The Red King - Michael A. Martin [16]
“You appear to have little cause for worry, Ensign. In fact, in a few weeks’ time, you may even be able to begin administering little Totyarguil’s feedings yourself.”
“Alyssa has already shown me how to work the feeding tube.”
“You misunderstand me, Ensign. I was referring to mammalian autotrophic feeding.” Ever since he had first read about it as a young pre-Healer, the strangeness of this uniquely mammalian trait had always utterly fascinated him.
The ensign blinked several times, apparently confused by his terminology. “You’re talking about breast-feeding.”
“Of course,” Ree said, dipping his head forward rapidly and repeatedly in what he had learned was an affirmative gesture. “It’s really the best thing for him, nutritionally and emotionally. I would greatly appreciate being permitted to observe, once you begin—I am contemplating writing a paper on the practice for one of the medical journals on my homeworld.”
Her response took a moment to arrive, but sounded cheerful enough when it finally did. “Oh. Good. Great. Well, we can discuss that later.”
Ree chuckled in appreciation. “I would be particularly interested in witnessing your mammalian feeding behaviors once the little carnivore’s teeth begin coming in.”
As he spoke, Ree took a medical tricorder from its place on a nearby shelf and scanned the child more thoroughly than the incubator’s sensors could manage. The readings scrolled down the screen, but he had to refresh it and read them again; his eyes were becoming dry and tired.
“I’ve confirmed that his biosigns are strong indeed,” Ree said. “With the exception of size and weight variances attributable to his premature birth. Totyarguil seems to be responding well to the lung- and skin-tissue stimulation treatments Dr. Onnta has been administering.”
Olivia’s face beamed with happiness. “Thank you, Doctor. Axel will be relieved to hear that as well.”
Ree pointed one of his long, clawed fingers over to the sleeping conn officer. He regarded the man’s blissfully closed eyes with a faint sense of envy. “I suggest you let him rest now and give him the good news later.”
He turned to leave, and then turned back. “Dr. Onnta will be in to check in on you in a few hours. I must go get some rest of my own.” After paying my respects to Commander Ledrah.
As Olivia waved to him quietly, Ree turned again to leave. He fully intended to sleep soon, but first he had to get some food. He wasn’t entirely joking when he had told Captain Riker recently that the sight of small mammals tended to make him hungry. In another context, on his home planet, a warm-blooded creature about the size of Totyarguil Bolaji would have made for a nice predormancy interval snack.
It’s probably best that I keep that to myself, though, Ree thought, wishing his patients well, and dreading the sad ceremony that was to come.
Every detail must be perfect.
K’chak’!’op turned her head segment upside down, and used one of the six tentacles that protruded from the right side of her head to tap the instrument panel. They left a slightly moist smudge behind on the display.
The holodeck shimmered into life, and a placid scene from the world of Tiburon took form. Nidani Ledrah had hailed from the north quadrant, a land that was in a perpetual twilight for half the Tiburoni year due to the planet’s extreme axial tilt. According to K’chak’!’op’s research, the area was largely devoid of modern technology and large cities; its tribes lived in small, independent settlements. The native Tiburon did not mix with the Suliban settlers or the Vanoben, who had arrived more recently.
K’chak’!’op clicked her mouth pincers together several times, vocally reminding herself that the caves nearby would have featured rust-colored rocks, not the dusty orange ones that she had just programmed. Her tentacles moved fluidly as she altered the scene.
Her four eyes swiveled independently, looking for other flaws. Some of the