Star Trek - NF - 12 - Being Human Page 4

  Are you suggesting that we haven'-t known each other? That you don't know me? You know me, Zak."

  "Do I?" He kept his answers short, vague, and mini-mal. It would have been sufficient to drive an ordinary person mad with annoyance.

  Mark McHenry, however, was no ordinary person. That much was becoming quite evident to Kebron. It was also obvious to Kebron that much of McHenry's customary dreamy attitude had dissipated. Instead of speaking with a distracted, barely-mere air, McHenry seemed totally fo-cused on Kebron. That alone was enough to convince Ke-bron that something was dreadfully, dreadfully wrong.

  "Well," McHenry said after a time, "it appears that you believe you don't know me. That explains some-thing, though."

  "Does it?"

  "Heh," McHenry laughed softly. "You're certainly not one for showing his hand, are you, Zak? And yes, it does explain something, Zak." Then, very slowly, McHenry's smile evaporated. "It explains the activities you've been engaged in lately, all of them with the sin-gle purpose of trying to find out more about me. You've logged one hell of a lot of computer time lately, Zak. Much more so than usual. Now, one might have thought you'd been engaging in something truly worthwhile, such as trying to find cures for diseases, or researching our new vessel's capabilities, or even trying to deter-mine who, unh, who wrote the Book of Love. But ap-parently, none of these uniquely human-which you are not, of course-lines of inquiry had been of the slightest interest to you. Instead you've been spending an inordinate amount of time and energy investigating... well... the only person at this table who's a human being."

  "Are you?'

  The question hung there, unanswered, as McHenry's eyes narrowed. Then, with a smile that was not reflected in the rest of his face, McHenry said very quietly, "Are you questioning my humanity now?"

  "I am questioning," said Kebron, "how you knew I'd been researching you."

  "It wasn't hard to figure out, Zak. You've been keep-ing your distance from me lately. Looking at me oddly. I began to wonder. So I ran some diagnostic checks through engineering, investigating whether or not my files had been subject to scrutiny lately. Computer al-ways leaves a record of such things. Always. Imagine my surprise when I discovered they had been, and imagine my further surprise when I learned that it was being done by my old friend Zak Kebron."

  "What do you want?" asked Kebron in that same, calm monotone he always affected.

  McHenry signaled for a second drink to be brought" over. It arrived promptly, replacing the empty glass that had been in front of him moments before. "I want an-swers, Zak."

  "As do I."

  "You know what I mean."

  "As do you." Kebron leaned forward, elbows fully on the table, causing it to tilt. McHenry grabbed at his glass, just managing to prevent it from tumbling off the edge of the table. In a low, gravelly, rumbling tone, said, "You daunted Q. No mortal does that. He intended to transform you into some other life-form, but was un-able. Impossible. Are you of his continuum?"

  "I don't think so," said McHenry, apparently trying to sound reasonable about it.

  "Then what are you?"

  "Lieutenant first class McHenry, Mark, serial number 348-"

  Kebron started to get up from the table. This time McHenry didn't try to stop him. Instead he was on his feet as well, circling the table quickly so that he was standing directly between Kebron and the exit. This, mused Kebron, was a potentially dangerous place for McHenry to be, should Kebron choose to leave. "Look, what am I sup-posed to say?" asked McHenry plaintively, trying to sound reasonable. "You ask me things like 'what are you'? You know who, what I am. I'm just a human,.."

  "A human so attuned to the galactic axis that he can determine our location instantly. A human so 'merged' with the ship that he can sense it when the vessel goes off course by so much as a meter. That, McHenry, is not just any human."

  "Well, I never said I was just any human," McHenry said, obviously trying to sound modest.

  But Kebron was shaking his head, via swiveling his torso at the waist. "Your spatial abilities... they are su-pernormal. Because of the many oddities of your nature, these skills are lumped in with them and given no thought But only I have seen a Q prove powerless against you."

  "Well, then," McHenry said slowly, "if I'm all that-supernormal, and more than human, and all those other things-then I guess you should be relieved I'm on your side."

  "Are you?" rumbled Kebron.

  Mark McHenry actually looked taken aback by the comment. "My God, Zak... with everything we've been through... you'd ask that now? Now?"

  Kebron didn't flinch. "You are an unknown. Un-knowns present security risks."

  "And have you reported this potential threat I pose to the captain?" McHenry asked him.

  "Not yet."

  "You're waiting until you find some sort of definitive answer about me."

  "Yes." He paused. "Are you volunteering?"

  McHenry took a step back from him, his shoulders sagging. He seemed both tired and rather sad, "Zak... I cannot believe we're having this conversation. I'm human. My Starfleet medical records will attest to that."

  "I know."

  McHenry flinched slightly at that comment, since it reminded him of just how much research Kebron had been doing about him. "Except for my father and mother, my family's been in Starfleet for well over a century. I'm part of a family tradition of serving proudly. No one's ever questioned my loyalty..."

  "Nor do I."

  "That's a relief.

  "I question you yourself."

  Shaking his head, his eyes closed in what looked like I pain, McHenry said, "Do what you want, Zak. Believe what you want. I know you have nothing to fear from me..."

  "I know that."

  "You do?"

  "Yes," Kebron said, studying McHenry's face, as if he was capable of peeling the skin away and leaving the grinning skull. "No fear. You see... if it develops that you present a risk... I will simply squash you. Like a bug. No offense."

  "None taken," McHenry said hollowly.

  And Kebron, feeling that everything that needed to be said had in fact been said, walked around McHenry and out the door. He strode down the corridor, and was abruptly interrupted by the sound of running feet. He turned to see McHenry standing there, his skin redden-ing, looking angrier than he'd ever seen him. McHenry stabbed a finger at him, thumping it against the Brikar's chest.

  "I changed my mind," McHenry told him with as much force as he apparently could muster. "I..." He tapped Kebron's chest for emphasis. "... am going... to take it... personally."

  Kebron stared down at him. "You do that," he said.

  Then he headed off down the hallway, with McHenry's shouts of "I will do that!" ringing in the air behind him.

  TRIDENT

  I

  lieutenant commander gleau stared at his captain as if she'd grown a second head. Shelby did not lower her eyes or look away, but literally had to keep reminding herself that there was no reason for her to do so. She sat behind her desk, her fingers interlaced, her back straight, and her full attention on Gleau. God, he is beautiful was what she couldn't help but think, and then she mentally withdrew from that thought and forced herself back to the issue at hand.

  The Selelvian seemed to glow with such splendor,, both inner and outer, that it was everything Shelby could j do not to ask him to ratchet it down a few notches. She wondered if he was doing it deliberately, or if he could indeed "take it down" even if he tried to do so. "I want you to understand, Lieutenant Commander, this is noth-ing personal..." she started to say.

  "Nothing personal?" As irritated as he was, his voice still sounded musical.

  "Captain... you're asking me to take an Oath of Chastity, and you're saying that's noth-ing personal?" He was walking the length of Shelby's ready room, back and forth, with such grace that he barely seemed humanoid, but rather more like a caged tiger.

  "If it's good enough for Deltans, Gleau..." He waggled a finger at her, although he wasn't actually lookin
g in her direction. His focus instead seemed inward, as if he were talking to himself. "No. No, the Deltans take an Oath of Celibacy, not chastity. For all their legendary sexual techniques, Deltans are still a fairly conservative race. They only engage in such con-gress with those who are to be lifemates. The problem is that if they become involved with a non-Deltan, then sex with his partner becomes the only thing that the non- Deltan can live for. It consumes the non-Deltan's life. So they take their Oath of Celibacy, promising not to enter in the bond of lifemating with any non-Deltan Starfleet personnel. And since they won't become sexu- ally involved with a nonlifemate, chastity is simply an extension of that. But the oath doesn't apply to other

  Deltans..." "Very well. You're free to become involved with other

  Selelvians..."

  He stopped and turned to face her. "There are no other Selelvians in Starfleet."

  "Yes, I know that," said Shelby dourly. "Just as I also know the difference between chastity and celibacy. The problem, Gleau, is that Selelvians don't believe in mar-riage contracts of any kind. Which is fine. But that's

  why an Oath of Celibacy would be utterly useless in your case, and why I must ask for more than that."

  Gleau finally sat, looking like a balloon with the air released. "Captain, I cannot believe you are serious on this. It is an utterly unwarranted and unreasonable in-fringement on my private life..." Then his face folded into a frown. On a face of such beauty, a frown looked positively grotesque. "This is about M'Ress, isn't it. She complained."

  "That is correct," Shelby said levelly. "She lodged a formal complaint with me."

  "Captain," said Gleau, and he had never sounded more wheedling than at that moment. It was enough to get Shelby's defenses up in a hurry. "This is all just... just a huge misunderstanding, that's all. M'Ress, why... she just didn't comprehend about..." "The Knack?"

  "You know," laughed Gleau, as if they were sharing a chuckle over an old joke. 'There are so many misunder-standings and rumors about the Knack, it's really quite funny..."

  Shelby leaned forward, her fingers still tightly inter-laced. The longer the meeting went on, the more wary she became, and the more convinced that she was on to something. "Well, let's focus on my understanding of it, and you can then clarify it for me. As it relates to this particular instance, Lieutenant M'Ress claims that a fundamental attraction she felt for you was exploited via the technique popularly known as the Knack..." "Captain, that is a gross oversimplification of-" "A sort of mental manipulation," she pressed on forcefully, "in which already existing tendencies and de-sires, as they relate to a Selelvian, are 'pushed'-con-sciously or unconsciously on your part-so that the subject in essence loses her free will."

  "See, that is where the misunderstanding comes in," Gleau said quickly, leaning so far forward on his chair that he would have tumbled off it had it not been affixed to the floor. "The 'subject,' to use your own term, does absolutely nothing that she doesn't want to do. It just makes her... well... a little bit less self-conscious about it. And it's not something that we Elves-to use your popular nickname for us Selelvians-do deliber-ately. It's just, well... part of our natural charm."

  "I see," said Shelby, her lips thinning, looking very much as if she didn't see at all. "So you can't control it."

  "Not as such. I mean, some of us can, more than others. But ultimately, it's simply part of the overall package that is a Selelvian. We never hurt anyone, though, Captain, you have to understand that. Hurting someone, taking ad-vantage of them, trying to force them to do something that they would not ordinarily do..." He looked utterly ap-palled at the notion, as if he could barely form the words since they were so distasteful to him. "Why, that would be anathema to us, Captain. Total anathema."

  "I see." Shelby drummed her thumbnails on the desk, appearing to consider what he was saying. When she spoke it was with the air and attitude of someone who was thoroughly on Gleau's side, hoping perhaps to somehow settle a delicate situation before it spiraled completely out of control. "And yet... M'Ress feels as if she was taken advantage of."

  "Well... Captain," and Gleau visibly relaxed. He leaned forward, elbows on the desk, blinking his golden eyes, adopting a "strictly between us" attitude. "Let us remember... our dear Caitian scientist is just a bit out of her time, since she fell through the gateway that brought her to us. We're seeing mores and attitudes that were appropriate to over a hundred years ago."

  "Really. I had no idea that people were such prudes a century ago."

  "Oh, yes! It was scandalous, how conservative they were," he told her, dragging out the first syllable of "scandalous" so that it sounded like three.

  "I see. M'Ress served under Captain Kirk, you know. Are you saying James T. Kirk was a prude? That doesn't exactly jibe with anecdotal evidence."

  "Well, whatever you heard, trust me. The man was a notorious conservative."

  "Kirk slept with my great-great-great-grandmother."

  Gleau blinked. "Oh."

  "And her sister."

  "Oh. Oh dear. Well, I-"

  "And, years later, her daughter."

  "Ah. I see. Well, uhm... that's..." Gleau suddenly looked as if he'd much rather be anywhere else. "... that's very interesting, and I-"

  "Gleau," Shelby said in as no-nonsense a tone as she could muster. "Bottom line, I turned a blind eye toward what I had heard about Selelvian tendencies, because you're correct: That is getting involved in the personal life of my crew. It's a realm that I feel rather shaky entering. Unfortunately, this situation has pushed me through the door. Now,.maybe you're right," she said a bit more loudly, speaking over Gleau, who looked as if he was about to interrupt. "Maybe what we're seeing in this situation with Lieu-tenant M'Ress is a bit of provincialism on her part. On the other hand, perhaps she's bringing into stark relief something that we in Starfleet should have noticed and attended to earlier."

  And Gleau's golden face, seemingly incapable of any sort of anger, clouded over like a thunderhead draping itself across the sun. "Need I remind you, Captain Shelby, that you are simply one individual, and not Starfleet. You are not entitled to make fleet policy."

  Shelby immediately sensed the change in the atmos-phere of the proceedings. "Yes," she said carefully. "You are right about that, Lieutenant Commander. But I am entitled to make policy decisions regarding personnel of this ship. You are of course entitled to ask for a review through channels, and I'm sure it will be granted. Aver-age review time is between nine months to a year, Earth Standard Time. In the meantime, I'm afraid that I must insist on your taking an Oath of Chastity."

  "This is grotesquely unfair, Captain!"

  "On some level, Gleau, I agree. On another level, however..." And she leaned forward and her voice dropped to a place that indicated extreme warning. "You may have taken advantage of a fellow officer who didn't know the truth of your nature. I am willing at the mo-ment to believe that you did not do so intentionally. On that basis, I will not be bringing you up on charges of rape..."

  "Rope!" As opposed to Terrans, who became decid-edly pale when shocked, Gleau became an even shinier gold. "You can't be serious, Captain-!"

  "Do I look at all like someone who isn't serious?" she demanded. When he didn't respond, she continued, "As I was saving, at the moment I am willing not to bring you up on charges. Nor is M'Ress asking me to do so. She has, however, made her displeasure known. Now I am making my displeasure known to you. I've adapted the intended oath based upon the Deltan Oath of Celibacy. I suggest you take it and then stick to it."

  "Or... ?"

  And there it was. The single word, hanging challeng-ingly in the air between them. Her eyes narrowed and Shelby said, "Or I will consider your intentions toward Lieutenant M'Ress to be hostile and act accordingly. It's your choice."

  "This is blackmail!"

  " 'Blackmail' is such an ugly word," Shelby said. "I prefer 'coercion.'"

  "And as such, Star-fleet will not consider it binding."

  She shrugged. "Perhaps.
But that's a matter for the appeals process... by which time we will have, at some point, put in at a space station or dry dock for repairs, and you may decide you want to transfer to somewhere you find more welcoming. In the meantime, make your decision, Gleau. And make it now."

  She swiveled the computer screen around so that the vow of chastity was displayed upon the screen. She watched his face carefully, saw his gaze flicker to the screen, saw him recoil slightly like a vampire faced with garlic or holy water. Then, somewhat tQ her surprise, his irreverent and annoyingly attractive smile reappeared upon his face. "Anything," he said with as much suavity as he could muster under the circumstances, "to main-tain harmony in the family."

  Gleau leaned forward and said, "Computer... iden-tify via voiceprint and retinal scan."