Seven of Nine - Christie Golden [51]
Seven didn't think so, but she held her tongue. The memory would come back.
Over the next several minutes, Seven's mind gave her images she had forgotten. The agony of her first few hours of separation from the Collective. A toy she had been given on her fourth birthday. A fragment of a nursery rhyme about rings, roses, and failing down.
Nothing of import, but vivid and real memories just the same.
As each one occurred, she described it for the Doctor. He nodded and recorded the information.
Finally he sighed. "That's enough for one session.
How do you feel?"
"A little tired."
"That's to be expected. Seven... I have a question." She nodded, indicating that he might proceed.
"Did you assimilate the Skedans? Not you personally, but-" "Yes.
Personally. I have experienced the memories of one Rhly, Species 4774.
Known as the Skedans. A race of telepaths with a protective ridge of bone on the skull that protrudes down the back. Non-aggressive.
Resistance was minimal. The young are inefficiently nurtured-" "Telepaths? That would explain it. I noticed that their young ones emitted certain measurable bursts of mental energy and there's an extra organ in their brains. Tamaak said it was just a species anomaly. I wonder why he didn't let us know they were telepaths."
Seven searched Rhiy's memories. "They had been met with fear by non-telepaths in the past. They do not often exert their will on others. They have a highly detailed code of ethics involving mental contact with other species, divided into forty-eight-" "That will do, Seven. Thank you. Come back in twenty-four hours and we'll continue our work. If anything out of the ordinary happens, contact me at once."
"Shall I return to duty?"
"No. You won't be thinking as clearly as you ought to, after this.
Why don't you return to your alcove and regenerate?"
"I have done so within the last few hours. I wish to work."
"Then stay in Astrometrics. You can't do too much damage there."
Seven stood at her console, efficiently tapping in information and watching as the computer changed its images according to the new directives. Normally, the intricate maps she constructed pleased and interested her. Tonight, though, she found no satisfaction in the work.
Her mind kept drifting. She thought of Keela, and Rhly-Rhly who had been paired with Tamaak Vrs, who was here on this vessel. Perhaps that was why she had done what she could to avoid interaction with the Skedans.
The birds were a nuisance. They fluttered, hopped about, squawked, picked on one another, and generally distracted her. She remembered Neelix's pouch and reached to touch it.
Instantly the birds froze. As one, they turned to stare at her, expectant.
Her heart sped up. This was foolish. Offering birdseed to fictitious birds. And yet She licked her lips and spoke. "The Doctor says you are a part of me. Neelix thinks that you have things to tell me. H will listen. I will take care of you. Here."
Seven poured the contents of the bag into her hand, knelt, and made a small pile of birdseed on the floor.
Then she rose and stepped back, waiting-for what?
For a long moment, the birds didn't move. Then, by ones and twos, they hopped forward and began to peck at the seed. They ate, and yet the pile was not diminished. Finally, they seemed satisfied and regarded her with sharp yellow eyes.
A sudden pain throbbed in Seven's temple. She groaned, involuntarily, and pressed her fingers to her head. The pain increased. She slitted her eyes against a bright light that appeared from nowhere, a light that she knew existed only in her troubled, hyperstimulated mind.
A murder of crows. An unkindness of ravens.
Unkindness.
Murder.
Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye,-four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie. When the pie was opened, the birds began to sing. Wasn't that a tasty dish to set before the king?
She