The Eyes of the Beholders - A. C. Crispin [10]
“Yes?”
“Her clan doesn’t want her. They said they had no facilities for the care of a disabled child.” Beverly Crusher’s mouth tightened bitterly. “They were very blunt about it. They don’t want Thala, and they don’t give a damn about what happens to her.”
“What do regulations dictate in a case such as this?”
The auburn-haired doctor sighed. “I’m afraid they’re quite specific. If there is no family to return the child to, she is to be taken to the nearest world containing a majority population of her people and handed over to the planetary authorities as an orphan.” She shook her head. “In Thala’s case, that would be Thonolan Four, I suppose.”
Selar experienced a pang of distress at the thought that within days she might never see the little girl again. “But the people on Thonolan Four are hardly likely to welcome her, either,” she pointed out.
“But they would have to take her. I suppose she’d wind up in some kind of foster care.”
“Or an institution,” Selar said bluntly.
“I hope not.” Crusher shuddered at the thought. “Oh, God, I hope not. Thala’s such a bright little thing!”
“Is there any legal alternative?” Selar asked. “If someone were willing to pay her passage to Earth—or Vulcan, for that matter, would that be permitted? Even though Thala has no family there, I can assure you that institutional facilities on Vulcan would be far preferable to any found on Thonolan Four—or any Andorian world. Vulcans value children, and Thala would be no exception. The child’s mind would be challenged on my world. She would receive good care and excellent schooling.”
“I don’t know whether sending her elsewhere would be permitted or not,” Crusher said wearily. “I can ask Lieutenant Greenstein. He’s the regulations expert.”
“Please do so,” Selar said. “In the meantime, I suggest we say nothing of this to Thala. There is no need to frighten her with our concerns for her future.”
“I quite agree.”
Long after Beverly Crusher’s image had faded from her viewer, Selar stood staring at the blank screen. It is not fair, she thought, her mind filled with Thala’s image as she remembered it from yesterday, laughing as she ate her dessert. A smudge of orange sherbet beside her mouth had contrasted ridiculously with her blue skin. You have so much to offer, if only they would give you a chance …
The Vulcan doctor sighed, reminding herself that the universe was not, and never had been, known for its fairness.
“Commander Riker … excuse me?” Data’s voice reached the preoccupied first officer just as the turbolift’s doors began to close.
The tall man, whose handsome features were enhanced, not obscured, by the beard he wore, turned at the hail. “Lift hold,” he ordered. “Doors open.” The lift obeyed. “Sorry, Data,” William Riker said as the android joined him in the turbolift. “I was … thinking. Resume,” he added, to the lift.
“I quite understand,” Data said as they whizzed along. “I, too, have been puzzling over what may await us at our destination.”
“It’s the wrong quadrant for Gatherers and too far from the neutral zone to be Romulans. Renegade Klingons?” Riker guessed. “Maybe they dispatched more of those sleeper ships, in addition to the one Worf and K’ehleyr were able to head off at the pass.”
“Perhaps,” Data said. “But if so, why have they not left that sector? Why simply prey on a few merchant ships? Klingon honor of a century ago would demand an assault on Federation space and Federation vessels.”
Riker shrugged. “You’re right.” The turbolift stopped. “I’m heading to engineering for an inspection,” Riker said. “Where are you going?”
“At the moment, nowhere in particular,” Data replied. Will Riker noticed that he was carrying something folded in one hand. “I suppose that I will go up to the bridge, since I will be on watch in an hour. But, Commander …” The android trailed off with an almost human hesitation.
Riker regarded him curiously. “Something on your mind, Data? I mean, besides our mission?”
“Frankly, yes, sir.” The android seemed to brace himself. “I Would like your