She'd noticed him immediately upon exiting the rear door of the medical building which was reserved for hospital staff. It wasn't exactly that he didn't belong in the park that was almost exclusively frequented by medical personnel and service workers on break, even though he didn't. It wasn't even the fact that he was human on a planet rarely frequented by humans, in part due to the environmental conditions which were taxing on human physiology, but also because of the reticence of the Da'al to mingle too freely with other species.
She could only surmise that this instinct to constantly survey her surroundings, looking for an exit, an escape route, something or someone out of place, was a leftover from her life… before. That was how she'd come to think of it. There was her life *here* and now, and then there was a vague notion that there *must* have been something before it.
She closed her eyes briefly and turned her face towards the sun. Da'al's ultraviolet levels were very high and in general this suited the planet's population just fine. It also had, as a side effect, to discourage other species from spending too much time there. The people of Da'al were more wary than xenophobic and they had good reason for that wariness. Their location, perched precariously between the aggressive Klingon and Romulan empires, had proven the prudence in their caution.
In more recent times, however, overtures had been made to Federation members as they gravitated towards stronger allies to fend off potentially aggressive factions of Romulans fleeing the looming destruction of their planet.
She had been lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time and was engaged full time researching how to combat the hyper-skin cell degeneration detected in most humanoids after visiting Da'al. If they were to formalise ties with Federation member planets, then they needed to be able to welcome other humanoid species without worrying about the effects of their sun on their visitors.
She had already made headway on a solution even before she was given the research position as, out of practical necessity, she'd been working on at least a temporary solution for herself. It was either that or face the potentially irreversible cumulative consequences of living full time on the planet. She'd also had contacts within the Da'al medical system smoothing the way for her appointment.
So, while the presence of another human on Da'al was not without precedence, the fact that one had turned up in the small provincial city of Tecra, in a park across the street from where another human just happened to be employed… All of these fleeting thoughts, this situational analysis, ran through her head in mere seconds and though she didn't in any way let on, she was aware of him, in the background, from almost the moment she stepped outside.
At first, she thought she was imagining things, that it was, yet again, another example of some lingering after effect of the gaping hole which was her until life until the moment, six years previously, when she'd awoken in a hospital suite in the very hospital across from where she now sat slowly unpacking her lunch and quickly applying a salve to her exposed skin. Some days Jentar joined her for lunch, but today he was on rounds and running a bit behind and so while waiting for him she was taking in the fresh air and sunshine after hours spent in the bowels of the medical complex.
She refused to let anything, or anyone cast a shadow over this much needed mental and physical breather. She thought of the man and considered, just for a moment, offering him some of the ointment to protect him from the intensity of the sun. Surely that was the point of her research, she reasoned.
She looked up just then to relocate the man that she'd allowed to leave her sight for just a moment, only to discover that he was standing before her, a strained expression on his face. She was shocked at how quickly he'd changed positions but kept her expression neutral. He had shown no signs of aggression or malicious intent and she refused to keep jumping at shadows. Six years was long enough. She would no longer let fear of the unknown control her. She was moving forward with her life now, trying to forget all of that.
"Beverly?"
"I'm sorry, can I help you?" When he didn't respond, she tried again. "Do you need assistance?" He shook his head at her, and she felt her unease rise in spite of herself and her determination to control her reactions.
"Beverly?" His voice carried more uncertainty now and his eyes reflected a level of emotion that was incompatible with a first meeting with a stranger. She quickly put the ointment back in her lunch satchel and stood up, sliding off of the stool and backing slightly away.
They were approximately the same height and she wondered if this was reflective of the average human, or just a coincidence. She hadn't come across many and for some reason she had tended to shy away from looking too closely into anything related to her own species as it tended to provoke that feeling of unease, of upset just over the horizon that she knew was constantly lurking just under the surface.
"I don't know you… Do you know me…?" He continued to stare at her, but when he reached a hand towards her, she reacted almost violently, pulling back from his extended hand and snapping, "I have no idea who you are, but I want you to stay away from me. You're…. You are frightening me. I don't know you… I don't know this, Beverly."
He was so stunned by her response that he didn't even try to say anything as she gathered her belongings and moved away from him, giving him a wide berth as she hurried out of the park and across the street, barely watching for hover-traffic and making him hold his breath until she made it safely to the other side.
He continued to watch as she quickly took the steps up to the staff entrance and pulled a keycard out from beneath her uniform, swiping it distractedly against a console mounted next to the door. Just as she finished putting the card back and was reaching for the door, it was pushed open from the inside and a Da'al male exited.
The man took in her distraught state and Picard saw him place both hands on her biceps as she gesticulated in controlled but jerky movements. He saw the man turn his head in the direction of the park and locate him. He seemed to speak soothingly to Beverly then, and pulling a keycard from his own pocket, he swiped it against the console and manoeuvred her inside of the building.
As he turned to make his way down the stairs towards the park, Picard took in his appearance. The Da'al average height was at least 6 feet, their skin varying from grey to porcelain to a deep slate colour and their hair a dark rich purple. This male's skin tone was a delicate porcelain colour with a purple undertone as was common in the planet's southern hemisphere. As he approached, Picard could make out his eyes which were an indigo or perhaps a deep violet colour. His face seemed open, unthreatening.
"Good afternoon." Picard nodded in greeting and took the outstretched hand. He wasn't certain if shaking hands in greeting was a custom on Da'al or if the man was simply humouring him, but he preferred to believe that the gesture was offered in good faith.
"You frightened my colleague…"
"It wasn't my intention to frighten her. I am Starfleet Admiral Jean-Luc Picard." He conveniently decided to omit the fact that he had resigned and was now retired, figuring that this conversation would proceed more smoothly with his credentials intact and out front.
He cursed himself for allowing his emotions to overrule logic in coming here on the off chance that he would spot her. He should have waited until he'd gained access to the background information provided in the dossier. All of this could have been avoided. He was terrified that he'd spooked her and that she would make a run for it. The Da'al man looked at him closely, seeming to come to a decision. Picard vehemently hoped that it was one which was favourable to him.
"I am Dr. Jentar Zeneth. I am a physician here at the Tecra Medical Centre. How do you know Elspeth… Dr. Aitken?"
"I… Dr. Aitken?" Making a snap decision, Picard decided not to reveal his personal connection with Beverly, instead choosing to emphasise the professional, even if he had to stretch the truth somewhat. "I am searching for Dr. Beverly Crusher. She disappeared without notice or leave from our flagship. The woman you know as Dr. Aitken was my colleague for over a decade. Since I am currently retired, I had the time to devote to the search for her. Starfleet has been looking for her for almost six years…"
He congratulated himself for not straying too far into the realm of fantasy. Everything that he had related to this man was easily verifiable, he'd simply related it in such a way (focussing on titles and ties to Starfleet) as to justify his presence here in a professional capacity.
Dr. Zeneth paused and Picard could see the man thinking over everything that he had just been told. Picard hoped that the newly found interest of the Da'al to establish relations with the Federation would add weight to his argument rather than dissuade this man from aiding him to successfully make contact with Beverly.
Jentar was considering this man carefully. He did not want to upset Elspeth, but the likelihood of another human just happening to arrive on their world, in this small provincial city, looking for a missing human woman, and it *not* being related to Elsie was astronomically low.
"Things are… delicate, Admiral. There are certain medical issues about which you, and Starfleet, are not yet aware… If I can… I'd like to suggest that we exchange contact information. I can then act as intermediary…" he could read on the Admiral's face that the man was less than receptive to this suggestion. "As Dr. Aitken's *physician*…" He placed a slight deliberate emphasis on his role. "I would ask that you trust me to bring the doctor up to speed regarding your presence here on Da'al."
Two can play the professional title game *Admiral,* he thought. He could see that Picard understood his meaning and, relenting, the Admiral handed Jentar a small PAAD he'd pulled from the canvas bag he had slung across his chest.
He just couldn't leave it there though. What if it was a ruse? As outlandish as it sounded, he wondered if her supposed ignorance of his identity was nothing more than a diversion so that she could disappear on him once again. He wouldn't be surprised if her colleague knew *exactly* who she was. Jean-Luc Picard of six years ago would not have been so paranoid, would never have questioned Beverly's motives or behaviour but, for good or ill, he was no longer that man. He wasn't willing to risk it.
So, he found himself, four hours later, still seated at the park. He had taken the time to return to the shuttle and replicate a pair of light pants and a short-sleeved top in an attempt to find relief from the worst of the heat but also to help him blend in a bit better. He'd decided that he would return to his rented room after having seen for himself where Beverly was living.
He continued to try to reason with himself that he would have all of that information and more if he would just wait until he could access the building where the secure locker was located tomorrow. The argument was in vein. His instinct, his gut, refused to allow her the opportunity to disappear yet again.
He'd been closely observing the garments worn by the Da'al who wandered down the street in front of the park, noting the style and colour of the clothing they wore as well as any headgear which might help him distract attention from his bald pate. He had yet to see a hairless Da'al and wondered if perhaps baldness did not exist in the species. He was confident now, that with his wardrobe change, that he would blend in with the surrounding citizens as much as was possible.
He did wonder fleetingly what would happen if Beverly decided to depart by another door; the medical complex was vast after all. He forced the thought away. There was only so much he could control, and he could potentially accomplish more sitting here in this park than sitting in his room perusing, yet again, the vague Federation records pertaining to the planet and its people.
Just as he was about to shift his weight yet again to ease the ache in his legs caused by the backless stool-type seating upon which he was sat because it provided the best view of the door while also allowing him to remain somewhat hidden by a large bush… he saw her.
As she exited the door she looked back over her shoulder, and it was then that he saw Dr… Zeneth, that was his name, who was holding the door open for her, his arm extended over her head. Both had changed into civilian clothes of light colours and no doubt lightweight fabric in order to reflect the waning yet still intense rays of the Da'al sun.
Picard gave them a bit of a head start then followed, wondering if this Dr. Zeneth always escorted Beverly home or if he'd scared her by approaching her earlier in such a careless manner. He came around a corner just in time to see them enter a building surrounded by fairly high hedges. He couldn't tell if it was an apartment complex or some other type of building as the path disappeared into shaded darkness.
Glancing around himself, he took a seat at what was obviously an outdoor cafe. Hoping to blend into the scenery he ordered something cool to drink after consulting with the server. As he waited, he sipped the icy beverage which tasted vaguely fruity, and reflected on how grateful he was for the large awning stretched out from the front of the building to the edge of the sidewalk which provided both shade and concealment.
How humans could ever live full time in this environment was a mystery to him, and yet Beverly seemed to be managing. His mind wandered as a slew of questions floated to the surface. Had she been living here this entire time? Six years was a long time to spend in this climate. What exactly was her position at the medical complex and what were the "medical issues" that her colleague had hinted at earlier?
Afterwards, he would never know what had made him look up at that moment. By all rights he probably should have missed their exit entirely, so caught up was he in his own thoughts. But look up he did, and in that moment, as his eyes landed on them, he felt all the blood in his body rush to his feet leaving him dizzy and grasping the table in front of him for support.
In high stress situations during his career, he had, several times, experienced what was overwhelming him now, but usually after the immediate danger had passed. Time seemed to slow, the steady beat of his own mechanical heart the only sound he could make out. All around him, activity continued at its normal pace and yet his body seemed almost to be under water. Sounds from the outside were muffled. The low hum of some sort of engine, heels clacking dully on the pavement, a woman's voice hailing someone in greeting…
And just as quickly, input from the outside came rushing back in and he found he couldn't draw a breath. Dizzily he forced his lungs to function, attempting to restore the oxygen to his brain. He'd thought fainting from shock was a myth, something that happened in melodramas or to helpless heroines in Dixon Hill holoprogrammes…. He sure as hell knew better now.
Catching sight of Beverly and Dr. Zeneth on the pavement had left him incapable of speech or movement or anything else at all. Had he been an android he could imagine it would have blown every circuit in his brain. Before the pair turned to the right and moved down the sidewalk in the direction away from the location of the medical centre, he had spotted a small hand almost completely enveloped in Beverly's larger one, held securely by her long slender fingers.
His erratic thoughts wondered what Will Riker's son was doing here, with Beverly, on this obscure little planet. But this was simply his brain misfiring and superimposing one image over another because when else had he had occasion to encounter a small boy in the last several years.
Riker's son was not fair-haired like this child. He could see, even in his small glimpse and at such a great distance, that the child's eyes were not the dark penetrating Betazoid black of Thad Riker's eyes. This boy's eyes were lighter, possibly blue, or green or… grey… And it struck him that the boy showed absolutely no outward physical characteristics of the Da'al race, and he forgot how to breath all together.
He forced himself to bend over, putting his head slightly between his knees, trying not to draw undue attention to himself. When he finally had himself under control, he glanced up into the still too bright sunlight only to discover that they had disappeared.