Synthesis - James Swallow [151]
Elsewhere in the room, Pava found her fingers knitting together over the edge of the table. She watched Y’lira Modan’s golden expression shift to a grin as she turned over the second of the oval cards.
“A pair of kais,” said Ensign Fell with a frown. “You win.”
“Ah, ‘The Pillars of Wisdom,’ ” noted Torvig. “An auspicious hand. In Bajoran mythology, a female who plays such a combination should expect the blessings of the Celestial Temple and the boon of a clear journey ahead.”
“Plus all of our money,” Pava retorted. “That part of the blessing is very clear.”
“Did you not suggest that you would no longer participate in games of kella, Lieutenant?” Tuvok asked, reaching out to gather up the cards and shuffle them.
“Perhaps, sir,” she admitted, “but then again, I’ve developed a morbid fascination for the question of how many times I can lose at this bloody game.” She glared at Torvig and Modan. “No card counting this time, right? It’s like playing against those machines.”
“Not so,” said Torvig. “Perhaps on a purely technical level, yes. But if anything, the synthetic intellects we encountered share several humanoid traits.”
“Such as?”
“Emotions,” Tuvok noted. He paused before starting to deal out the cards once more. “Curious. One could consider it ironic that a civilization of artificially intelligent beings, constructed on the basis of a logical thought process, could develop the emotional responses exhibited by the Sentries.”
“Well, good for them,” Pava replied. “A bit of passion never hurt anyone.”
Tuvok paused, answering her statement with a raised eyebrow.
The Andorian sighed. “Just deal. Sir.”
Across the table, Fell toyed with one of the cards—a brightly rendered kai—and looked up. “What was that you said, Torvig? The boon of a clear journey ahead?” The Deltan nodded to herself. “We could use that, I think.”
Pava glanced out of the mess hall port as a shaft of light from the primary star climbed over the curvature of the planet beneath them. In a day or so, perhaps less, Titan would be on her way, pressing farther into the unknown. A smile formed on her azure lips. “But then, it wouldn’t be as interesting, would it?”
He put down the plate and utensils on the dining table and stepped away, looking for his wife. “Deanna?” he called, walking back through their quarters to the lounge area by the viewport. “Where did you put the… oh.”
She turned to him and smiled, their daughter feeding quietly at her chest. “What?” Deanna asked. “Tasha has to eat as well.”
He moved to her and ran a hand over the baby’s head. “I guess so.” The smile that hovered at the edges of his lips didn’t come, however. Instead, his gaze crossed to the window and the sights beyond it.
“Will?” she said gently. “Talk to me.”
“Just when you think you have an inkling of how precious it all is, of how much you would give to keep the things that are important to you, something comes along and makes you think again.” He sighed. “Christine talked about the lessons the Borg taught us. I think we’ve learned another one here.”
“I know it was hard for you, to let her go. But you did the right thing.”
“Is that your professional opinion, Counselor?” He gave her a humorless smirk. “They always say a captain has a close relationship with his vessel. How many of them can say they thought of her as…”
“Family?” Tasha was done. Deanna closed her blouse.
“She was like a child. Needful and bright. Temperamental and vibrant. All of that’s gone now. We’ll never know what she could have grown into.”
His wife met his eyes. “You looked at the avatar and you saw our daughter. She reflected everything about parenthood and growth that you’re afraid of… that we’re both afraid of.” Deanna held Tasha tightly, smiling at the child.
“I don’t know all the answers.” Will nodded, stroking the little girl again. “I don’t know what questions my daughter will ask of me, what challenges she’ll put to us. I don’t think I really understood that until now.”
When Deanna spoke, her