Spirit Walk_ Old Wounds (Book 1) - Christie Golden [61]
Fortier stared at the items, reaching to trace a pattern with a long forefinger. She let him keep the silence until he was ready to break it.
At last, he spoke. “I’m afraid to do this, Sekaya.”
“Why?”
“I’m afraid that if we design a ceremony for the dead, then we’ll find them dead. I’m afraid that if we design a ceremony that is joyful, Fate will laugh in our faces. It’s silly, I know, but there it is.”
He turned haunted eyes to her. “I’ve kept this dream alive for years. More times than I can count, I have imagined transporting down to Loran II and embracing my brother, seeing the buildings—the homes—that we were forced to abandon standing ready and waiting for us. I’ve asked my people to hang on to that hope. What if it’s not there?”
Gently, Sekaya placed a hand on his arm. “Then you grieve. You honor your dead. You decide if you want to stay, and if you do, you start over.”
He placed his own hand, strong and warm, over hers and squeezed it gently. “You sound as if you know exactly what that’s like.”
She looked him full in the eye. “I do, Marius. I do.”
Chapter
16
JANEWAY AND TUVOK were not permitted to transport down to the surface of Boreth, but Commander Logt granted permission, albeit grudgingly, for B’Elanna to beam up to say hello to her old friends.
Paris let out something perilously close to a whoop as he and his wife materialized on—
“The Delta Flyer!” he exclaimed in delight. “Oh, sweetheart, am I happy to see you!”
“Do I get at least a hello?” came a warm voice.
“Absolutely,” Tom said to Admiral Janeway, stepping forward for a handshake and finding himself pulled into a friendly hug. Janeway embraced B’Elanna with equal enthusiasm. Tuvok merely quirked an eyebrow slightly higher than usual.
“Now, B’Elanna, let me see this precious little girl,” said Janeway, holding out her arms for Miral. Paris said a small prayer that his daughter would be on her best behavior. You could never tell; sometimes Miral was an angel and sometimes she was…well, not. Fortunately, all seemed to be well for the moment, and Miral rewarded Janeway’s beaming smile with an intent, focused look. Tom sneaked another look around, pleased beyond his expectations to see the Flyer again. His fingers itched to touch the controls, but for the moment, he had to be satisfied with running his hand along the back of a seat.
“My goodness, little one,” the admiral said. “You are so much bigger than when I last saw you.”
Janeway traced the subtle brow ridges with a finger, smiled as the baby blew a spit bubble, kissed the little hand, and handed the girl back to her mother.
“She’s beautiful. How is life on Boreth for the parents of so young a baby?”
“Surprisingly good,” said Paris. He told Janeway about the imposing Kularg and his tender care of the children entrusted to him.
“Better than her godfather?” asked Janeway.
Paris’s face softened. “Nah,” he said, suddenly realizing how much he missed the EMH and his other friends. Six months on Boreth had been a long time. “No one’s better with Miral than the Doc. Not even us.”
“How’s he doing?” asked B’Elanna. “We haven’t heard much about any of you here.”
Janeway’s smile faltered a little. “Less well than we had hoped,” she said. “Seven is in her element, of course, as you can imagine, and the Doctor is too, truth be told. But he can’t shake his association with Baines and the HoloRevolution.”
“Partially,” Tuvok interjected, “because he continues to advance his cause.”
Paris’s blue eyes went cold. “Hey,” he said, gently but firmly. “Doc’s not a murderer.”
“I am not suggesting that he is,” replied Tuvok, unflappable as always. “But the Doctor has an agenda that is deeply personal to him, and continues to work toward the desired end.”
“He’s not in any trouble?” B’Elanna asked. Her brows drew together. “Because if he is—”
“No,” Janeway reassured her. “Nothing like that. But Tuvok’s right. The Doctor isn’t going to let the issue of holographic rights disappear as if it had never been brought up.”
“Nor should