And then there was the other thing. But Mawson and her fellow maternity nurses had little to say about that. And those who’d chosen to speak of it had soon learned there was little gain in doing so, for the government, the press, and the public were satisfied to chalk it up to mass hysteria, the people’s fear of a looming war manifesting in visions of spirits and monsters. Mawson and her nurses knew better, but they were content to communicate it in knowing looks and shared laughter. In years to come, they might get together and speak of it in reminiscence, maybe privately debate the true origin of the giant men and women and the scaled monster with the hands of a surgeon. For now, they were content to absorb the experience in their own thoughts. For Mawson, it had reaffirmed a faith she had begun to question in these uncertain times, this age of electricity and factories and motor carriages, when nature and the spirit world seemed more distant than they had in her childhood. Now she had confirmation that the spirits were there, and that they had children and loved and protected them just as people did. That reassured her, inspired her to put more passion into her work. But she also knew that the spirits had their own lives to lead, that people could not rely on them to interfere in mortal affairs—that it was up to people themselves to find their own solutions to their wars and plagues and so forth. That the only guidance the spirits could offer was by example. But these spirits had proven to set a fine example—after a rocky start, to be sure, but imminent childbirth tended to do that to people.
As Mawson left the hospital for the night, she looked up at the stars and wondered if the giant baby and her mother were happy.
DROPLET, STARDATE 58590.2
The capsule ascended on a pillar of wind.
Borne aloft on a thermal by huge, transparent balloons—related to the weather-balloon creatures and bred specifically for this purpose—the fairy-castle rocketship rose toward the tenuous reaches of the sky. When it had risen as far as it could go, a spark from its supercharged nervous system would fire its rockets, sending it…
Well, not far,Will Riker thought as he watched its ascent. The squales were nowhere near far enough along to get into orbit, since it had been less than two weeks since they’d begun the project, even if their ability to build on ancient knowledge accelerated the program considerably. This was merely a propulsion test, but it was a historic enough event that Riker had accepted the squales’ invitation to remain at Droplet until after the launch.
“Lovely weather for it,” Deanna said, and he lowered his eyes from the diminishing speck of the capsule to gaze upon her. She lounged beside him on a floater-islet beach, while Natasha Miana Riker-Troi nursed at her breast.
He smiled. “Beautiful scenery indeed.”
“Oh, you.”
“I just wish it could last.” He stroked Tasha’s head, but she remained focused on slaking her appetite. “We came so close to losing each other.”
“We have before,” Deanna told him. “And we will again. But we have a good crew, and I have faith that they’ll always bring us back together. Back to this…the three of us.”
“Sir?” It was Lavena, swimming up into the shallows. Two squales were behind her; Riker couldn’t tell them apart, but he suspected they were her young friends. “They’re ready.”
“I think it would be diplomatic,” Deanna said, “if we joined them in the water for the occasion. After all, they’re extending their first toe into a new sea.”
“But the view is better here.”
“A few meters won’t make any difference to the view. Besides, it’s even more humid here than it was in the holodeck. I’m dying for a swim,” she said, meaning it this time.
Shrugging, he acceded to her wishes. They stayed in the shallows, with Deanna keeping the baby close but letting the water bear much of her weight. But they knew Tasha would be safe so long as the squales surrounded them. Indeed, the squales seemed intrigued by the child, coming up close, extending their tentacles to touch her with great delicacy, and flashing color patterns that Riker imagined were the squale equivalent of doting baby talk.
But soon the big event came. Riker could see little more than a sustained point of light and a distant streak of white vapor, but that was enough to tell him the test was successful. Eventually, the remote roar of the rocket reached his ears. He knew that Titanwas monitoring the event with full sensors, that Vale and the others on the bridge were seeing it in rich detail, preserving the image for history. Riker would enjoy reviewing that in time. But there was a greater wonder in being here with the squales themselves, experiencing this first step as they did, without any machines—any unliving machines—in the way.
As the distant roar faded, Riker turned back to his own first step into new seas. Tasha was splashing around, making little cooing noises that sounded like enjoyment. He met Deanna’s eyes, and she sensed his impression and nodded. “She likes the water,” she confirmed. “She’s curious about the new environment. Yes, that’s my girl, isn’t it? My daring little girl, all ready for adventure!”
“Just like her namesake,” Riker said.
“Like her father,” Troi replied. “She’s going to be quite the explorer, this one.”
Yes,Riker thought as he saw the tiny child testing her abilities, stretching her arms feebly toward the flickering squales as though eager to quest into the unknown. This one will go boldly.
APPENDIX
Who’s who on the U.S.S. Titanin Over a Torrent Sea