The Best And The Brightest Part 11

Dax ordered, "Close your eyes."

"I'm not allowed to run a simulation of the hearing," Moll reminded her.

Dax made a face. "You'll have to answer all those questions tomorrow, why bother to do it tonight? No, this is much better. Three hours from now, you'll be ready to take over the Symbiosis Commission single-handed."

As usual, Moll drew her brows together, as if unsure whether to trust Dax or not. Like a flash, it brought back all their years together at the Inst.i.tute. Jadzia hadn't been able to resist making friends with the shy, reserved genius. Everyone else had treated her like an untouchable icon, while Jadzia took perverse pleasure in treating Moll exactly like a younger sister-counseling her, bullying her, and basically treating her like a real Trill.

Now, with the added perspective of the memories of her Dax symbiont, she realized Moll had never understood why she had been so friendly through their years at the Inst.i.tute. Mostly, Jadzia had felt sorry for the girl who had been shuttled from one intellectual think tank to another University demonstration from a very tender age, never really having a childhood.

"Go on," Dax urged. "Close your eyes."

Moll closed her eyes, and she didn't peek even when Dax put her hand over her face to make sure. "Turn this way," Dax ordered. "Begin simulation Dax 9J. Okay, now you can look!"

They were on a meadow overlooking the baths of Cydonia. A nearby waterfall tumbled over the rocks to fill the upper pool, spilling down the curved walls that spread like petals over the gentle slope. Steam rose from some of the warmer pools as naked figures moved through the white mist, sliding into the water and gliding away among the ripples.

"You think this is going to help me?" Moll demanded.

"Well, it can't hurt," Dax a.s.sured her.

Moll let out an exasperated sound, turning back to the door. "Why did I trust you? I should have known you came here to make fun of me."

Dax caught her arm, stopping her from leaving. "I've never made fun of you, Moll! I only teased you a little because you never seemed like you were enjoying yourself."

"Thanks for your help," Moll said dryly. "I don't think now is the time to enjoy myself."

A male Risan approached, wearing only a smile and a towel over one arm. "Would you like a ma.s.sage?"

Moll turned away in disgust.

"Stop being so uptight," Dax recommended. "If you tell the Commission you're happy with the way you're living your life, they aren't going to force you to do anything. Forget all the witnesses. What matters is how you present yourself."

"That's easy for you to say!" Moll suddenly snapped. "You got what you wanted. You got the memories, the experiences. I wanted that, too, but instead all I got was this!" She gestured to herself. "Nothing changed when I was joined. Except I feel like I'm being watched every second, knowing that the next hosts will remember everything I say, everything I do. I'm just a starting point, a blank slate, as if nothing I've ever done is enough to cause a wave in that smooth pool where Enor sits inside of me, watching every moment."

"But you're the first-"

"Don't tell me what an honor it is! I believed all that, and I didn't even try to say no when they told me I would get Enor. I didn't even try to refuse," she repeated bitterly.

Moll left the holosuite as Jadzia sadly watched her old friend leave. She never realized how disappointed Moll had been over joining with Enor. But then again, she had sent at least a dozen messages to Moll after hearing she had been accepted to Starfleet Academy, but Moll had always replied with only a few brief lines, resisting even a shadow of their former intimacy.

Another Risan, this one androgynous, approached Dax with a towel over one arm. "Would you like a ma.s.sage?"

"Yes, thank you." As they began walking toward the cabana, Dax said, "Maybe you can give me some advice. What do you do when a friend won't let you help them?"

Moll knew she appeared extremely defensive, but she had to cross her arms to hold on to herself, to keep from shaking. She held her head high as the voice intoned, "Are there any final statements from the witnesses?"

So many of the Starfleet officers, as well as her cadet teammates, had already testified to her courage and skill. But Moll knew that wouldn't satisfy the Commission. Jadzia had done her best to prove that an allegiance to Starfleet was not detrimental to the well-being of the symbiont, pointing out the examples of Curzon Dax and herself. But the questioning had shifted to Moll's psychological ambiguity over her symbiont, and no one could help her there.

"We have a request from Lieutenant Jadzia Dax," the voice announced. "You wish to make a final statement?"

Dax's image flickered on. She stood up to face the unseen Commissioners. "Yes, I have something to say. Your investigators have been very thorough in digging through Moll's psychological motivations. And you've explored the issue of exactly how important the panspermia fossil is to the Trill. But you've forgotten the most important thing."

Moll sat forward, wondering what Jadzia could possibly be talking about. She was incapable of forgetting anything.

"Moll is the first host for Enor. Her life will be the moral and ethical foundation for every succeeding host. For those of you who are joined, you know what I'm talking about." Moll never remembered seeing Jadzia so serious. "The success of every symbiont relationship rests in part on the ability of the first host to establish a foundation that is both inclusive yet solid. That takes constant self-questioning, and inevitably some doubt about one's own choices. And I've never known anyone better at self-examination than Moll."

Jadzia paused to smile at her, and Moll Enor felt herself respond, relaxing in spite of herself. What Jadzia was saying felt right to her.

"Moll would never purposely endanger herself or her symbiont unless there was some overriding concern," Dax insisted. "If she had turned away from the fossil, knowing as she does how important it is-not just to her or her people, but to everyone in this galaxy-then you would have good reason to judge her actions."

"You question this entire hearing?" the voice asked.

"Yes! Being a first host is difficult; we all have the memories to prove it. We also know it's those memories that are most comforting when we're faced with difficult decisions." Jadzia's holo-image stepped closer to Moll's chair. "I envy Enor's future hosts, because they'll inherit a rich and varied lifetime of memories from Moll. And I recommend that you do nothing to interfere with her choices."

The kneading fingers pressed into Moll Enor's back, finding all the sore spots. She groaned in pleasure, twisting on the edge of pain.

"These guys are good," she told Dax. "I'm glad you talked me into this."

Dax murmured agreement as her own ma.s.seuse worked on her. Her eyes were closed and she looked almost indecently relaxed and happy. "Just consider it a reward for beating the Symbiosis Commission at their own game."

"You beat them for me." After a moment, Moll said, "Actually, it's poetic justice, because it was your fault in the first place."

"My fault? What did I do?"

"You know very well that I went into Starfleet because of the way you raved about it at the Inst.i.tute." Their eyes met. "Then when I saw that asteroid, I knew I had to try to save it, because all I could hear was your voice inside my head, insisting it was a once-in-a-lifetime find."

"It is," Dax agreed.

"Remember you told me about that cla.s.s you took with Professor Galen? I wanted to hear him lecture so badly, but he didn't teach my first two years at the Academy, then he was killed gathering DNA codes that proved his theory."

"The message of peace from our ancient progenitors," Dax remembered. "I think Starfleet finally convinced the Commission you have a serious talent in science."

"I love astrophysics, but I don't think I could take a steady diet of it like you do," Moll Enor demurred.

"Good, I think you should go into command," Dax agreed.

"Command?" Moll blurted out. "I'm terrible with people."

"Nah, you just need to have some confidence in yourself," Dax told her with a grin. "You're a natural leader. Look how you got the other cadets to do exactly what you wanted so you could save that asteroid. Someone who can talk Cadet Mantegna into something would be foolish not to pursue a career in command."

Chapter Six.

"HEY, t.i.tUS, UP HERE!" Jayme called out from the upper walkway. "What did you get for the summer?"

Hammon t.i.tus tossed the a.s.signment chip into the air and caught it with one hand. "Errand boy for the Federation a.s.sembly."

"Yeah?" Her voice went up in surprise and doubt. "Really?"

t.i.tus clenched his teeth, still smiling. He couldn't believe it either when he read the chip. All year he'd been stuck at the Academy while everyone else went off on exciting survival courses and temporary a.s.signments...o...b..ard science ships or remote s.p.a.ce stations. The furthest he'd been was New Berlin City on the Moon last summer while he was running the shuttle supply route. New Berlin City looked a lot like San Francisco without the bridge-not very exotic, if you asked him. He had talked to everyone he could about getting off Earth, including Admiral Leyton, but his requests kept coming back denied.

He slipped into galactic poli sci cla.s.s, barely beating the bell. As he sat down, he realized everyone was shifting in their seats, talking in hushed, excited tones.

"We have a guest today, cadets," Professor Tho announced. t.i.tus sat up to see better, as Captain Jean Luc Picard entered the room.

The girl in the chair next to him muttered, "No way!" Everyone was on the edge of their seats to see the man who had beaten the Borg at Wolf 359 when thirty-nine other Federation and Klingon starships were destroyed. Picard looked just like his holo-image, especially the way he nodded to them and briefly smiled as he took the lectern.

"Professor Tho asked me if I could speak to you," Picard began, his sonorous voice comfortably filling the room. "You all know of the recent developments between the Federation and Carda.s.sian Empire, resulting in the establishment of the Demilitarized Zone a few months ago. Unfortunately, this necessitates the shifting of some of our colonies, as well as some of those of the Carda.s.sians. The decision to formalize our borders has given rise to political and philosophical debates that will undoubtedly continue for centuries... ."

t.i.tus felt his eyes glaze over. Looking around, he realized everyone, including Professor Tho, was entranced by Picard's distinctive rhythmical cadence. There wasn't a sound in the room.

"The EnterpriseD shall depart tomorrow for Dorvan V to carry out the evacuation of the last of our colonists. Some of the Federation colonists have protested the treaty and are resisting recolonization, forming a protest group known as the Maquis. In the Academy newspaper this week, there is an insightful editorial on the rights of the Maquis, written by one of your fellow cadets, Harry Kim. Cadet Kim brings up some of the more germane questions we are faced with in this case, specifically, whether the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few-"

t.i.tus couldn't stand it anymore. "Excuse me, sir!"

The other cadets slowly turned, resenting the interruption.

"Yes, Cadet," Picard acknowledged. "Do you have a question?"

"No, a comment," t.i.tus said, ignoring the stares. "If I may be so blunt, I think you agree with the Maquis that the colonists shouldn't be forced to move from their homes."

Professor Tho was frowning, and whispers rose around him.

"My personal feelings are unimportant," Picard replied quietly. "I am merely performing my duty."

"But isn't it our duty to protest when we feel our orders are wrong?" t.i.tus knew he should just let it drop, but that comment about Harry Kim got under his skin. Kim was one of the last-year cadets that professors were always holding up as an "example." Kim was a nice enough guy, but sometimes they piled it on enough to make t.i.tus choke.

"Our elected officials create policy, not Starfleet captains," Picard gently chided him. "While I may have quite a different opinion as a citizen, it would be arrogant in the extreme to think that I know what is best in such a complicated and far-reaching subject."

t.i.tus nodded, at a loss for what to say.

"Cadet," Picard added, almost with a smile, "you will soon find that the essence of command is not to lead, but to follow orders."

"Yes, sir," t.i.tus agreed.

He sat back and folded his arms, wondering why he felt so deflated. Maybe it was that hint of amus.e.m.e.nt in the captain's smile that was so humiliating. But he was convinced he was right. Maybe none of the others could see it, but he knew that Picard didn't agree with this policy. h.e.l.l, t.i.tus knew he would fight it if someone told him that his family would have to leave the Antaranan colony.

The guy behind him kicked the seat and hissed, "Nice going!"

t.i.tus clenched his teeth, staring at Picard as he calmly, methodically discussed the volatile political situation and what that meant for the security of the Alpha Quadrant.

Jayme Miranda saw t.i.tus later that day, tilted back in a cafe chair, his head resting against the brick wall. His jacket was slung over the back and his eyes were closed as he soaked up the afternoon sunshine.

"Hey," she called out, stopping at the low fence around the patio of the outdoor cafe. "I heard about your argument with Captain Picard."

Sleepily, t.i.tus opened one eye. "You again? Where do you get your information? It wasn't an argument."

"Oh? That's what everyone's saying." She grinned. "Were you kidding me when you said you got Federation a.s.sembly duty this summer?"

"Yup."

Jayme couldn't help but admire how smooth he was, acting like he didn't have a care in the world, and pulling it off, too, when she knew he was dying to get off-world. In a burst of sympathetic goodwill, she told him, "You know, you should volunteer for projects or studies or something. It's sort of an unwritten rule. They like to see that stuff on your record."

t.i.tus raised his head. "I volunteer. Last month I organized the second-level Parrises Squares compet.i.tion."

"Yeah, and how hard was that?" she shot back. "It's not just a matter of keeping busy. They like to see you challenge yourself."

Now she had his attention, but in typical t.i.tus-fashion, he wouldn't admit she was right. "What are you doing right now?" he asked. "I've got tickets to the Ventaxian chime concert."

One brow went up. "You're asking me to the chime concert? Now I know you need to get off-planet."

His expression was wounded. "We've hung out before."

"Not listening to Ventaxian chimes. What happened to Qita?"

t.i.tus shrugged and looked away.

"Oh, I see. Sorry, but I can't help you put another notch on your belt. I'm going to the Maquis debate, so you'll have to ask someone else."

"I thought they already did that."

Jayme nodded. "This is another one. I better hurry, or I'll be late meeting Moll Enor."

"Enor?" He rocked slightly in his chair, laughing. "Don't tell me you're still infatuated with that Trill!"

Jayme flipped her hair over her shoulder. "You don't know anything about loyalty, do you?"

As she walked away, he called after her, "I know plenty about loyalty. I also know when to give up."

"Never say die!" she tossed over her shoulder.

When t.i.tus got back to his Quad, after going to the chime concert alone, he softly whistled the falling tones to himself as he got ready for bed. His roommate was still out. She was probably at the quantum physics lab studying for finals. This year's Quad project was protectively wrapped and sitting on the table next to the door, unlike last year's fiasco, when they didn't do a final test run until the night before the Board review. But that had been Starsa's fault more than Jayme's.

Jayme Miranda might have her own personal problems-just look at that infantile crush she carried for Enor, while the Trill obviously barely tolerated her attentions. But with at least half a dozen relatives the grade of commander or higher, Jayme certainly knew Starfleet like it was her own family.

Idly, t.i.tus called up the volunteer lists. He quickly keyed past the psych courses. There was no way he was going to let anyone mess around with his head. One of the endurance courses sounded interesting, but he remembered what Jayme had said about challenging himself.

He volunteered to be considered for a few different projects. By the time he checked the computer before going to sleep, he had received notification that he had been deemed "suitable" for Communications Project #104. If he chose to accept this duty, he would have to report to the lab the weekend after finals.

His finger hovered over the cancel square. There were at least four great parties happening that weekend. One was in a friend's habitat bubble in the Antarctic Circle. He was hoping to have a little fun before shipping off to the Federation a.s.sembly where he would be at the beck and call of some ancient legislator for two months.

He pressed the key to volunteer. He didn't care if he missed twelve parties and a trip back in time, he would do anything to get a good field duty a.s.signment.

This volunteer stuff isn't too bad, t.i.tus thought to himself. He leaned back against the soft turf, his hands behind his head, waiting for his partner to get through the light-beam obstacle. He had walked across the wide river without a stumble, but Eto Mahs had fallen five times already.