Taking Wing - Michael A. Martin [131]
“That calms my spirit,” Mekrikuk said, smiling again, his sharpened teeth bared.
Troi flinched involuntarily, then did her best to return his smile.
“May I ask you something else, Commander?” Mekrikuk said.
“Certainly.”
He looked back toward the ceiling. “I sense that you are uncomfortable around me. Have I done something to offend you? Or is it because I am Reman?”
Troi felt twin fires of anger and embarrassment flare within her. “I understand that some Remans have telepathic abilities, Mekrikuk. Most cultures consider it a violation of privacy to use them on others without permission.” The irony of her own words hit her a moment later. I read people’s emotional states all the time without their permission.
“You misunderstand me, Commander,” Mekrikuk said, frowning. “I did not use the mind-touch to perceive your distress. The mind-touch requires much effort. But noticing your behavior in my presence does not. You seem to shrink away from me, as though repelled. I apologize if my question was intrusive.”
Troi blinked slowly, realization dawning on her. Throughout this entire mission, the horrific memories of the telepathic assault she had suffered at the hands of Shinzon—an act made possible by the psionic abilities of his Reman viceroy—had never been very far from the surface. Ever since it had happened, she’d managed to hide her feelings from everyone except Will. But this Reman had seen right through her pretenses, and her empathic talents told her that his denial of having used telepathy on her was sincere.
So much for my sanctimonious lectures on diversity, she thought. That’ll teach me to tease Will about being afraid of Dr. Ree. She had never felt so deeply ashamed of herself before.
“No, Mekrikuk, I should apologize to you,” she said. “I have allowed a past ordeal to color my view of all Remans, yourself included.”
Mekrikuk shrugged. “I suspect that Remans are no more like one another than are the members of other species. I have seen members of my people who were beauty personified. I have seen those who were pure, distilled hatred. And I have seen those who cross from one side to the other, and every shade in between.”
He looked back at her, and she saw an apparently bottomless well of pain in his hard, dark eyes. “But I believe myself to be unique. Not because I am a Reman who chooses to leave his people. Nor because of the experiences that have shaped who I am today. I am unique because I am Mekrikuk. Just as you are unique because you are Deanna Troi. Neither of us could be anyone else.”
Haltingly, trusting her empathic sense of his lack of ill intent, Troi approached the biobed more closely and deactivated the restraining field. She reached toward him and grasped his hand in hers. It felt cool and rough, like un-polished marble. Its nails were long and sharp, reminding her of the delicately tapered claws of Dr. Ree, whom she knew was one of the gentlest souls she had ever encountered.
“We’re all unique, Mekrikuk,” Troi said quietly. “And I will try to do my best to remember that in the future.”
“Will Uncle Ranul ever wake up?” Noah Powell asked, his eyes as big as saucers.
Alyssa Ogawa stood behind her son in the isolation room, stroking his sleek black hair. “We don’t know yet, sweetie,” she said. “Sometimes people in comas wake up, and other times they just sleep forever.”
“Rule of Acquisition Number One Hundred and Three: Sleep can interfere with…well, a whole lot of things.” The voice behind them was grating and female. Ogawa knew that it belonged to Dr. Bralik before she even turned around.
“Hello, Bralik,” she said agreeably.
“Hi, Alyssa,” Bralik said, pulling something from her tunic. She held it out toward Noah. “And how are you, little grub? I brought you some candy!”
Noah scowled. “I didn’t like that last stuff you gave me. It tasted yucky.”
Bralik’s eyes popped wide. “The honey beetle clusters? Oh, I’m