"SHE KNEW THAT THE HAND WAS UPON HER" by Daniel J. Drazen Story copyright (c) 1997 by the author. The characters are creations of the author with the following exception: Sally, Dowager Queen of Mobius, is an extrapolation of the character of Princess Sally that is the property of DiC Productions and Archie Comics. Other situations and trappings based on "Star Trek: The Next Generation" are the property of Paramount Pictures. The quotation that ends this piece is excerpted from "Memorial" by James Thurber, and first appeared in "My World And Welcome To It". ================================================================= How do you measure time when there is nothing with which to measure it? Creatures who are bound by gravity to their homeworlds must rely on clues from those worlds to measure the passage of time: the shifting of tides, the rising and setting of suns and moons, the progression of seasons, the dance of constellations. Always there are methods of measuring the time a creature has lost. But what of those who spend their lives without such external prompts, those who sail the silent seas of space in metal ships that can outrun light itself? They get their warmth from central heating systems, not from a sun that rises and sets. Lights are turned on or off at will. Constellations that might mark the seasons change in a moment. Yet each creature carries within itself a sense of time and a desire to measure it. Even in deep space where time becomes a meaningless abstract, a philosopher's plaything. As far as the crew of the Federation starship al-Buraq was concerned, it was the third watch, the period between 2400 hours and 0800 hours when most of the ship's crew was supposed to be asleep. And indeed most of them were. Most, but not all. In the ship's empty Ten Forward lounge, one small figure sat at a table. She was only slightly more than three feet tall and her booted feet dangled above the floor. Her soft, auburn hair blended with the shorter, brown fur that covered the rest of her body. She was dressed in a Starfleet officer's uniform and wore the rank of Commander. A cup of tea sat before her untouched. Next to it lay a padd which she picked up, looked at, and set down again several times. The doors to Ten Forward slid open silently. Lieutenant Eddie Sant' Angelo walked across the room and sat down across from the only other being there. "You're still here," he said with a note of surprise. "I thought your shuttle left at 0100." "Not until 0130," she said quietly. Once more she picked up the padd, studying it half-heartedly. "Personal log?" he asked. "Uh-huh. I can't get past the first sentence: 'Have received word from Mobius that my grandmother is dying'." She let the padd fall from her hand. It clattered as it hit the table and the sound echoed across the empty room. "Are the doctors sure?" "They don't have to be; SHE'S sure. Unless it's by accident, all Mobians have a kind of premonition of when their deaths are approaching. To us it's a kind of...blessing, a chance to gather the family one last time. That's why they've called everyone together. Even me." "C'mon, you think they're still holding a grudge?" "Eddie, you saw my father and grandmother when they came to the Academy to attend my graduation. When they found out that I was required by Starfleet regulations to abdicate the throne if I wanted to keep my commission, it broke their hearts!" "I only remember the look on their faces when I walked into your room thinking you were there alone." "Yeah, with a bunch of flowers in one hand and a bottle of homemade synthahol Chianti in the other." She allowed herself to smile for a moment, but it soon disappeared. "Ever since then, I haven't heard a word from any of my family, except my brother Francis." "Maybe he passes your letters on to the others." "Maybe." She slipped off the chair, walked to one of the forward windows, and looked out as the distant stars rushed past. Eddie also got up from the table and stood next to her. "I just wish I knew how they felt." "You know how I feel," he said softly. He put one hand behind her head; she turned her face toward his. He tilted his head so he could duck below her muzzle to kiss her on the lips. It looked awkward but by now the move was natural for both of them. He slipped his other arm around her waist as both her arms encircled his neck. After a few seconds their lips parted silently. "Are you sure I can't come with you?" "You know you can't, even if Captain Matsumoto granted you leave. This is something that only family can attend. I'd better get down to the shuttle bay," she added after a pause. "You coming?" "Maybe not. I said 'Good-bye' to you once before; I don't want to get used to it." At precisely 0130 hours, the shuttlecraft Victoria slipped out of the al-Buraq's shuttle bay. It's pilot and only passenger: Commander Sally Alicia Acorn II, the first non- humanoid to ever graduate from Starfleet Academy. *** It was midday in Mobitropolis when the Victoria dropped out of orbit and entered the atmosphere of the planet Mobius. Sally tried to focus on the demanding task of taking the shuttle through to a safe landing without destroying the craft and herself as she entered the planet's atmosphere. It was second- nature to her by now. It wasn't that long ago that she was learning a different set of specialized skills -- the kind taught to the heir to the throne of Mobius -- and finding them to be tedious beyond belief. But learning them was expected of her. Sally Alicia II was the firstborn of King Charles I, the only child of King Sonic and Queen Sally. Though he was not of royal blood, Sonic had earned the right to join his beloved Sally when, after years of guerrilla warfare, they had finally overcome Dr. Robotnik and reclaimed Mobius. Sally had insisted on entitling Sonic before they married. Thus it was that Sonic, who had never aspired to royalty and who considered much of the court manners he had to learn to be "way past bogus", found himself named First Lord of the House of Ring and entitled to be crowned King. He regularly complained that the restrictions and expectations of royal life made him want to "chunk his chili," but being married to Sally more than made up for it. And even Sally was pleasantly surprised at Sonic's reaction to the birth of their son, Charles. Named for Sonic's uncle Sir Charles Hedgehog, who had not lived long enough to see the blessed event, he grew to be the very image of his namesake. He may have lacked his father's speed and attitude but he tapped into a part of Sonic that his subjects seldom if ever saw but with which Sally had become very familiar: Sonic's kindness, tenderness, and a playfulness that often struck others as mere flippancy. Charles grew to be a level-headed, sensible ruler. He was never spoiled growing up among royalty, nor was he adversely affected by having parents who were, quite literally, living legends. The only time Charles caused his father any serious consternation was when he fell in love with Marie de Coollette, the beautiful cousin of Sonic's fellow freedom fighter, Antoine de Coollette, and proposed to her. Sonic never stood in the way of his son's happiness, but he freely allowed that having Antoine as a member of the family was "mega-bogus to the millionth power!" Their union produced two children: Sally and Francis. It was expected that as the elder of the two, Sally would be the next monarch. This was, to some extent, eagerly anticipated: from childhood the family could see in her many reminders of her namesake, who with Sonic no longer actively ruled Mobius but had stepped aside to allow Charles to assume the throne. But changes had come to Mobius. They were never rushed into, for the memory of what Robotnik had done to their world and how long it was taking to undo that damage was still fresh. Still, it was the young Sally herself who asked that, instead of a traditional education followed by her assumption of the Mobian throne, she apply to study at Starfleet Academy. Despite grumblings in some circles that she was engaging in "a lark," it proved to be a very serious business to even apply. Entrance requirements to the Academy were structured in such a way that non-humanoids were effectively, if not intentionally, weeded out. Sally discovered this two years before she was even eligible to enroll, and this only served to fire her ambition not only to enroll but to graduate. Sally's family never sought to influence Starfleet in any way concerning their admissions policies, and it was to Sally's credit that her own hard work and perseverance eventually earned her the chance to enlist and to pass or fail on her own merits. Despite their noninvolvement, her family never ceased to encourage her in her goal; her grandmother in fact became her strongest backer. When her application was accepted, Sally repaid that dedication and support by taking her grandmother's birth surname, "Acorn." Her entrance into Starfleet Academy began what proved to be four of the hardest years of her life. Her being the first non- humanoid to enter Starfleet Academy subjected her to more publicity than she had experienced even as a member of the Mobian royal house. It was not always welcome, either, for conservative elements within Starfleet Command frankly resented a non-humanoid even seeking a command position. It was an attitude shared by some of her classmates who, outside the glare of publicity, harassed her and on more than one occasion almost drove her to resign from the Academy. During that time alone on an alien world, Sally kept to her classwork and her training. For a time it kept away the profound loneliness she felt. Eventually, however, it wasn't enough. That changed drastically when, in her third year, a first year cadet named Eddie Sant' Angelo asked her to help him study for a class. Reluctant to tutor him at first, she felt herself bound by the Academy's honor code to help him. She soon found herself attracted to the human as a friend, someone in whom to confide and whose practical knowledge of human nature -- what he called by the antiquated term "street smarts" -- made Academy life easier for her in several respects. In her fourth year at Academy Sally's life was altered forever by two developments. The first took place during a break in classes that lasted several weeks. The loneliness she had managed to keep at bay almost overwhelmed her, and despite the fact that she and Eddie had assured each other that they would reassess their relationship if things ever became "complicated," it wasn't enough to prevent the two of them from becoming lovers. For four heady months when they weren't in class Sally and Eddie spent every spare moment in each other's arms. It was finally Sally who, troubled by an off-hand remark of Eddie's, realized that the relationship had gone more than too far and convinced Eddie that they had to break it off. The decision had torn her up inside, but she worked hard to concentrate on the fact that she would graduate in two months' time. And then Starfleet intervened. Literally on the eve of her graduation, as if having tried everything else and failing to keep a non-humanoid out of a command position, she was informed that according to Starfleet General Order 27 she could not receive her commission as an officer unless she abdicated as successor to the Mobian throne. The Judge Advocate General's office explained that General Order 27 was drafted in order to prevent any Starfleet officers in her position from amassing a private army composed of Starfleet personnel and materiel. Sally found herself having to choose between a career in Starfleet and returning to Mobius. She chose Starfleet. She checked the forward window of the shuttle and saw Mobitropolis, gleaming like a diamond on the edge of Mobius Bay. She was within radio range. No sense putting it off. "Mobius Air Traffic Control, this is Federation shuttlecraft Victoria requesting verification of landing coordinates for Mobitropolis." "Shuttlecraft Victoria, this is Mobius Air Traffic Control. Your request is denied. The coordinates you have supplied would bring you too close to the Palace, and...Shuttlecraft Victoria, stand by." The radio went silent. Sally waited. "Shuttlecraft Victoria, this is Mobius Air Traffic Control. Set your navigational transponder to receive; we have been instructed to send you new landing coordinates on a secure channel." "Setting transponder. Can you tell me who authorized the new coordinates?" "Not at this time. Mobius Air Traffic Control signing off." Sally again looked out of the forward window. Her new course was taking her north, away from the city and over the Great Forest. Whether that was good news or bad news she'd know in a matter of minutes. The shuttlecraft touched down in a large meadow in the midst of the Great Forest, only a short walk from Knothole. Sally knew it well. As a child, the family would visit Knothole and her grandmother would tell her of the days she had spent in that clearing: playing games as a girl or watching and waiting for Dulcy the Dragon to use the clearing as a landing strip in the days of the fight against Robotnik. Sally opened the back hatch of the shuttle. She stepped out onto the ramp and down onto the lush, green grass. "Aunt Sally!" She turned to see two small figures running and toddling toward her from the edge of the clearing. Smiling broadly, she knelt on the grass and opened her arms wide. Her five-year-old niece Colette was the first to reach her, legs pumping and arms flailing wildly, followed unsteadily by her baby brother, Antoine. Sally had only known them from visual images sent to her by Francis; now she hugged them to herself as they covered her face with kisses. "Let me look at you two!" She let them go. "You're both so big!" "I liddow!" Antoine protested. "You sure are," she said as she mussed his hair. Somebody walked up behind the two children; all Sally could see of him was his boots. She then looked up into the face of her brother Francis, who had succeeded to the throne in her place. Francis wore the traditional blue coat of a Mobian king, but he wore it unbuttoned; it seemed to symbolize the open, easy spirit of his reign. He looked much like his mother, with the smoothe good looks of the de Coollette side of the family. He helped Sally to her feet and hugged her close. "I've missed you so much, Francis!" "Me, too." "Where is everybody?" "Waiting. Come on." Sally collected her things--an overnight case and a garment bag--and secured the shuttlecraft. Colette, for her part, couldn't take her eyes off Sally's uniform. "You always wear that much?" she asked. "Yes," she said with a smile, adding "Unlike some little girls around here." For Colette was wearing only a large, floppy straw hat with a broad brim. "I have an even fancier set of clothes in here," indicating the garment bag which contained her dress uniform. "Will you be wearing that when Great-Granmama dies?" "Yes...if I'll be allowed to...." "Here," Francis said to the children, cutting off further talk, "why don't you run on ahead and tell the others we're on our way." They didn't need to be told twice, but were off like the wind. Sally and Francis watched as they ran, laughing. "Will I be allowed?" Sally asked softly. "I think you'll have to ask Grandmama about that." "How is she?" "Soon, I think. Maybe even tomorrow." The two walked in silence for a moment. "When did it start, Francis?" "About six years ago. She seemed alright, and then...nobody knows why...she fell into a severe depression. And when she wasn't depressed she was raging! I'd never seen her like that before; NOBODY had! She never showed it in public, but we were all bewildered. "Anyway, we put up with it for five years. Then last year, on the anniversary of Grandpapa Sonic's death we came out here as we usually do. That's when she made it clear that she wasn't leaving Knothole, period. "I had my doubts; I didn't think she could be properly cared for out here in the middle of nowhere. Fortunately I was mistaken. For Grandmama it was like getting a second life. She could only stand for short periods of time, and even then not without leaning on something or someone. But it was amazing to see her recover to the extent that she did. The place needed repairs in spots, especially the bridge over the river; it had almost been completely washed out by floods two years ago. But there was no aspect of the restoration of Knothole that she didn't have a part in. She was too weak to lift any of the tools herself, but she could tell you to the inch how long replacement timbers had to be. "Still, it was a little terrifying at times. During the winter, she could barely get out of bed and we tried keeping her warm with layer upon layer of blankets, but she'd end up throwing half of them off, saying they were smothering her. I was a little afraid that she was trying to die from the cold, but she was tough enough to get through even that! "Then about a week ago she stopped eating. We tried getting her to eat something, but she wouldn't. After a couple of days she admitted that she'd had a premonition. That's when I sent word to you." "Have you been here all this time? Who's been at the Palace?" "We've really been taking it in turns to stay with Grandmama. We're all here now only because we know she's seen her death approaching. Chamberlain Gaius of the badgers is taking care of the day-to-day activities at the Palace for the time being." Sally paused as they were about to enter the forest. "Go on ahead. There's something I have to take care of first." "Don't you think you should ask?" "And run the risk of being denied? No; I'm going to do my part, whether anyone else in the family likes it or not!" Francis smiled. "You always DID find it easier to ask forgiveness than to ask permission. Go on; I'll see you later, and I'll make sure and take my time!" And with that Sally left her brother and began walking. A short walk brought her to a grassy clearing just beyond the pool where Sonic had once gathered power rings. She was standing in the place that her grandmother had once called "the heart of Mobius." In front of her were arrayed five upright stone markers. These were the graves of the greatest heroes of Mobius, the Knothole Freedom Fighters. Sally studied them one by one. Antoine. The de Coollette family had spared no expense in raising what it considered a glorious marker to memorialize him. Everybody else thought that "ugly" was a more appropriate word to describe the gaudy, baroque marker. The family had proposed several other grandiose concepts, each one more elaborate and more lacking in good taste than the one before. Queen Sally had finally insisted on the "simple dignity" of the present stone, if only because she knew that this was as simple as the de Coollette family was ever going to get. Next was the grave of Bunnie Rabbot. Good old Aunt Bunnie. Sally couldn't help but smile. Bunnie was never successfully deroboticized, but that mattered little to her. Very little mattered to her as she got older. She seemed determined to defy the conventional wisdom which holds that a quiet maturity comes with age. If anything, Bunnie became more and more outrageous as the years wore on. She delighted in shedding one inhibition after another in her old age like a tree losing its leaves, and she didn't care whom she shocked in the process. Sally fondly remembered that weekend when Aunt Bunnie showed up on her doorstep for an unannounced visit and managing to turn the entire Academy upside-down. Skipping over the open grave that would soon be the resting place of her grandmother, she saw the simple marker of her grandfather, Sonic the First, King of Mobius, created first Lord of the House of Ring. Carved in relief into the stone was the image of a gloved hand grasping a ring. It seemed to symbolize the hundreds of stories about him, even the patently apocryphal ones. Next was a simple stone that always filled her with sadness. It was the memory stone for Tails. Not "Miles Prower," no matter how much the surviving members of the Prower family insisted. Queen Sally had finally allowed the compromise of "M. Prower" to appear in smaller letters beneath the name "Tails." "He hated that name in life," she once said, "I see no reason to burden him with it when he's dead." The death of Tails--the tragic, premature senselessness of it--was keenly felt by the royal family if only because, as everyone could tell, when Tails died a part of King Sonic died with him. Tails had become a test pilot as an adult, and had on one occasion told Sonic that now he finally understood the "need for speed" that Sonic used to talk about so freely. The very next day, while testing an experimental engine that its designers had considered only a few steps away from warp capability, Tails' plane had without any warning simply come apart. In a single moment Sonic lost whatever remained of the dash and recklessness of his youth. For the longest time he blamed himself for Tails' death, and it was only with great love and patience that Sally helped convince him otherwise. "He always spoke of Tails as his little brother," Queen Sally had once told her granddaughter. "It was never that simple. In all the universe, no brothers were ever as close as they were." Finally there was the smooth, white stone to mark Rotor's grave. She studied the lettering of it, the exotic polar Mobian alphabet she had promised herself she would learn one day. But she stopped herself. She had another promise to keep. Taking off her jacket, she jumped down into her Grandmother's grave and, in accordance with custom, began scraping earth from the bottom with her bare hands. Better to do this now, she told herself as she sent dirt flying out of the hole. While nobody's here to stop her. And stop her they very well might. But so what? After all, no matter how much she might be out of favor with the royal family Sally was STILL her grandmother! And nothing, not even the family, was going to stop her from helping to dig this grave... her grandmother's grave.... The reality of what she was doing flooded in upon her, as it eventually did upon all Mobians who undertook the traditional task of digging the grave of a family member with their bare hands. She threw herself on the ground, crying out in sorrow and pain. It was primal and inarticulate and done out of love. Someone she loved was dying and she was mourning her loss. At last, exhausted, she stood up. It was then she realized that the grave was just slightly too deep for her to crawl out. It was, in fact, deeper than she was tall. "Francis?" she called out hesitantly, not really expecting an answer. "What?" Sally sighed with relief. "I need a hand out of here!" Almost immediately she saw somone reaching down toward her. She seized the hand and was lifted up out of the grave. Yet she was startled to see that Francis wasn't standing near the grave, but several yards back from it. And the one who had pulled her out of the grave, the one whose hand she had clasped, was an older hedgehog with a long, bushy moustache. It was King Charles, her father. Sally only had a second to be shocked before Charles threw his arms around his daughter, holding her close. She felt his body tremble and heard a sob. He looked at her, his eyes full of both tears and pride. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then stopped. "Daddy?" "She wants to see you." Picking up her jacket and brushing the dirt off her uniform as best she could, she followed her father and brother out of the clearing and into Knothole. It was as if time had stopped. It looked like the Knothole of her childhood, the royal retreat where the days were spent in happiness and the evenings in recounting the acts of the Freedom Fighters. Yet she now only felt apprehension as they approached the hut that belonged to her grandmother, then known as Princess Sally. Inside the hut, against the far wall, there was a large bed. Sitting up in the bed at a slight angle, was that same Sally, now known as Sally, Dowager Queen of Mobius. She was no longer active in ruling her people but was still very much loved by them, even those for whom the fight against Robotnik was only something to read about in history books and to hear stories of told by aged Mobians on warm summer evenings. Sally gasped as she saw her grandmother. Even with her dark fur set against white pillows, she looked pale. Her large blue eyes were half-open and seemed dull, and her fur was ragged at the edges. One hand rested on the bed outside the blanket; it appeared to be simply bones and veins covered with a paper-thin layer of skin, as if the muscles of the hand were gone. She was still beautiful, but it was the fragile beauty of an autumn leaf about to fall from the tree. "Leave us," Queen Sally said in a half-whisper. "We need to talk." With that, the others in the hut--Francis and his wife and children, Charles and his wife Marie, and several others who appeared to be nurses--walked silently out of the hut. They cast glances at Sally, but she didn't feel reassured by them. Sally slowly walked across the hut's wooden floor. Her boots made a thudding sound she usually didn't hear walking on the deck of a starship. For an instant it sounded like a heart beating. At her grandmother's bedside she dropped to her knees, burying her face in her hands. She might have started crying had not Queen Sally spoken: "Child, look at me." Sally looked up. "Can you forgive me, granddaughter?" "What? Grandmama, there's nothing to forgive!" "Yes there is, child. I've treated you shamefully." "How?" "I may never have written to you, but Francis always shared your letters with the royal household. We all knew about your assignments, your promotions, your becoming First Officer of your ship. "But there was one letter Francis didn't share: one you wrote six years ago. I was old enough and foolish enough to be curious about it and to read it when I found it. In it you told of how you were attending some conference at a space station, and there you were reunited with this...with him!" Sally hung her head and bit her lip. "That letter made me angrier than I'd ever been before. I didn't take the news of your being reunited with your...lover... very well. I hated you, my darling. I hated myself for the way I felt. Most of all I hated the humans, ones like Dr. Robotnik whom I'd fought against when I was younger even than you. For five years I clung to that hatred, until it wore me out. "Then when I insisted on spending my final days here in Knothole, I had a lot of time on my hands. That's when I reread your letters, all of them. And not just with my eyes, but with my heart. And I saw, for the first time, how happy you were to be reunited with your human, your lover, and how he made you feel. And I realized that the anger and resentment I felt wasn't because you loved a human, but because you were so happy...a happiness I haven't known since your grandfather Sonic died. I was foolish and wrong; THAT is why I ask your forgiveness." "You have it. Gladly!" she said through her tears. "But I thought you were angry with me for abdicating the throne instead of resigning my commission." "I felt that way for a time. But then I remembered something, something you yourself were probably too young to remember. It was when Mobius was first approached to join the United Federation of Planets. Your grandfather Sonic and I, along with your father Charles, had spent the day in discussion with two Starfleet officers. When the meeting was over, Sonic and Charles met together to discuss what to do about their proposal while I escorted the officers, Captain Moore and Lieutenant Picard, to the place where they would return to their ship, the Stargazer. "We turned a corner of the palace and who should we run into but you, my child, just a toddler at the time, no older than Antoine is now, leading your nanny a merry chase. You stopped and looked at these two officers; they might have been giants to you. But you looked at them with awe and wonder and absolutely no fear. "On the day you graduated from the Academy, and all your classmates rose to salute you, it wasn't just because you were the first non-human to graduate. It wasn't because you were graduating at the head of your class. You had earned their respect. And I saw the look on your face when you returned their salute. It was that same look I saw when you were a child: there was joy, but there was also awe and wonder and not a trace of fear. Then I knew you were meant to sit in a captain's chair and not the Mobian throne." Sally wiped her eyes. "Grandmama, I...I was so afraid of what you might....I feel like such a fool." "Then we two fools should forgive each other's follies. I love you, granddaughter, I'm very proud of you and I always have been." "I love you too, Grandmama." She embraced her namesake. "Shall I tell the others to come back inside?" "Not until you answer something." "Anything!" "I...I just can't imagine what it's like to sleep with a human!" "Well, what he lacks in stamina he makes up for in... imagination." *** It was late morning the next day when Sally awoke. For a brief moment she thought she was back on the al-Buraq listening to the dull roar of the forced air ventilation system. Then she remembered that she wasn't beathing recycled air, and that the rushing noise in the background was neither the ventilation system nor the warp engine. It was the river. Looking around, she remembered. She was in Knothole. She'd spent the previous afternoon and evening with her family, doing more listening than talking. They had spoken not of Mobian affairs, things which would normally have preoccupied the royal family. Instead they had spent the time talking about family. Unconsciously and without effort, the fabric of their family had been rewoven that night, and Sally knew she was a part of it once again. She had been put up for the evening in the hut that had once belonged to Bunnie Rabbot. At first it was awkward being there; she felt as if she were being asked to sleep in a museum exhibit. Soon, however, she had drifted off. Now she saw that it was late in the day. Her body's rhythms had yet to fully adjust to Mobian day and night. Getting out of bed, she started to put on her uniform, then stopped. There was something lying on the top of the chest at the foot of the bed, something blue. It turned out to be an old vest, well-worn in spots yet so well made that it was still wearable. She put the uniform aside and slipped into the vest. It was soft and fit surprisingly well. She turned to look at herself in the full-length mirror in one corner of the hut. "Scared?" Startled, Sally turned. Francis was standing in the open doorway. "Only by you." She looked again in the mirror. "The resemblance IS kind of unsettling, isn't it?" "Like all those pictures we used to look at when we were kids." "Maybe I'd better leave this here," she said as she began to slip it off. "At least let Grandmama see how well it fits. After all, it was her idea that you should have that." "What!? Francis, I COULDN'T! This is an...an heirloom!" "Exactly; a FAMILY heirloom. And speaking of family, you ARE planning on joining the rest of us, aren't you?" Sally smiled, then slipped on the boots that were part of her Starfleet uniform. Most of the rest of the day revolved around Queen Sally. Few words were exchanged as Sally helped bathe her grandmother and as she sat next to her as her fur dried in the sunlight. The Queen dozed and woke repeatedly throughout most of the rest of the day, but was fully awake when her granddaughter spent the early part of the evening answering the million questions Colette had about Starfleet. The two children were especially attentive as she explained the meaning of her ship's name. "The al-buraq is the name of a legendary Earth animal. He was supposed to have carried one of the Earth prophets on his back between one city and another. It was ordinarily a journey of many days, but the al-buraq did it in one night!" "How fast WAS he?" Collette asked. "Well, I've read that the al-buraq could look at a spot on the farthest point of the horizon, and in just two strides he'd be there!" This answer didn't satisfy Colette. She wanted to judge the speed of the al-buraq against the true Mobian standard. "But was he faster than King Sonic?" "That depends," she said with a sly smile. "With or without a power ring?" "With!" "King Sonic...no contest." "Without!" "It would have been close, but..." She drew it out for maximum effect. "King Sonic would have been faster." "Hooray for King Sonic!" "All right," Francis said, "it's bedtime for you and Antoine." "G'night, Mama," Colette said as Francis took her hand and led her out of the hut. "That was as good a place as any to stop," Charles observed. "If we'd have gotten to telling stories about King Sonic they'd NEVER get to sleep!" "I know," Queen Sally managed to say. "There are so many stories...." "And we must have heard them all when we were growing up," Sally added. "Not all. Not the ones Sonic and I kept to ourselves." For the next two hours, as the sky outside deepened to indigo and then to black, Queen Sally recounted several stories that Sally and Francis (or, for that matter, any other member of the royal family) has never heard before. These weren't stories that detailed momentous events in Mobian history, or celebrated heroic exploits. They were, instead, incidents in the lives of two young Mobians struggling to find their way toward adulthood while busy waging a guerrilla war and, in the process, learning how much they really cared about each other. Sally recognized at once the feelings of which her grandmother spoke, for she indeed had felt them herself when she was with Eddie. She went to sleep that evening realizing how much she missed him, and how much she shared with her grandmother. *** The next morning, Sally was up shortly after sunrise. She didn't think twice about what to wear, but slipped into the vest and boots before walking to her grandmother's hut. "Good morning, mother," she said as she entered. "Well, look who's in time for breakfast!" Francis chimed in. "Good morning, Sally," Marie said as she kissed her daughter on the cheek. "I was just about to fix some tea for mother." "I can do that. Looks like Francis could use some help," she added, for Antoine had apparently decided that he wasn't partial to the breakfast menu and was making his displeasure known. Sally measured some tea into a pot, into which she added some water which had just come to a boil. As the tea steeped, she took a knife and an orange and cut off a section of the skin about as wide and long as her finger. After a short wait, she poured the tea into a cup, then twisted the orange skin so that the oils from the skin dropped into the tea. Stirring them together, she set the cup down next to Queen Sally's bed. Cradling her grandmother's body in one arm, she held the cup while Queen Sally slowly sipped from it. Indicating that she was satisfied with half the contents of the cup, the Queen was set back against her pillows. She managed a smile and gave her granddaughter's hand a gentle squeeze. "You remembered," she said, almost in a whisper. "Of course I remembered, Grandmama. Rose hip tea with a twist of orange peel was always your favorite." She leaned over and gave her grandmother a quick kiss on the forehead, then took the cup back to the table. "At least it's not like some of those other Earth teas you sent us," Marie said. "I know. Some of them are really vile!" "What was the name of that one kind of tea you sent us, 'Earl Gray'? It tasted like swamp water!" "I think it's more of a men's tea." "They can have it!" Sally laughed, then turned back to Queen Sally. "Are you sure you won't try and eat a piece of toast or something, Grandmama?" Sally didn't answer. Her head was tilted forward so that her chin rested upon her breast. Her right hand, which had been in her lap, hung limp at her side. Her chest neither rose nor fell with the rhythm of breathing. There was still a trace of a smile on her lips. "Grandmama?" *** It was during the third watch that the shuttlecraft Victoria eased back into the shuttle bay of the al-Buraq, docking next to its companion shuttle, the Albert. Sally had hoped that nobody except those on duty would be there, but two other figures were waiting: Captain Matsumoto, and the ship's counselor Tal Thorin. Sally walked down the shuttlecraft ramp and onto the deck of the shuttle bay. Turning to the captain, she bowed from the waist while maintaining eye contact. "Permission to come aboard, sir," she said. One of Captain Matsumoto's eccentricities was his observance of some of the customs of his homeland while on duty, and the ritual of bowing in greeting was one of them. While some aboard the al-Buraq made light of it and ridiculed the captain behind his back, Sally understood--now more than ever-- why he held onto these small gestures. "Permission granted, Number One," the captain answered, returning the bow. "I'm sorry about your loss." "It was a loss for our whole world, sir." "Sally, I'd like you to wait at least 24 hours before resuming your duties. Ship's counselor Thorin will be available whenever you need him." "I'm fine, sir. Really." "I'm serious; I don't expect to see you on the bridge until tomorrow at the earliest. The ship will get along without you, believe it or not. For now, take care of yourself." With that, the Captain bowed and left the shuttle bay. As he left, Tal Thorin approached Sally. "Tal, please," Sally said wearily, "I'm not in the mood for any of your curbside psychiatry right now. I'm fine." "I don't think so," the Betazoid said as he glanced at the Victoria. Sally turned back toward it. As if coming out of a trance, only then did she realize what Tal was looking at. When the family had brought Queen Sally's body back to the palace for the state funeral, the shuttlecraft's insignia and markings -- everything except its registry number -- had been masked by solid black rectangles. It was accepted practice to "strike the colors" in this manner when a Starfleet craft bore the body of a noted personage. Sally had never unmasked the shuttle. Sheepishly she turned toward Tal. "OK, so maybe I DO need to talk." "Step into my office," he said, pointing to a bench along the shuttle bay wall. Sally sat down, and Tal sat next to her. "How did your grandmother die?" "I'd joined the family for breakfast. I'd just given her some tea, prepared the way she'd always liked it. She drank some, then looked at me and said You remembered.' I kissed her and then made some small talk with my mother. The next thing I knew she'd...just slipped away." "What was it like when you realized she was dead?" "We all just stood there, all of us inside the hut. My father must have heard the silence and he stepped inside. He walked over to my grandmother's body and bent over her. I guess he checked her pulse; it was hard to tell because he had his back to us. Then...then he dropped to his knees, wrapped his arms around her and started weeping. That's when we all started crying." "What do you think your grandmother was talking about when she said 'You remembered'?" "The tea, I suppose." "You're sure she was talking about the tea?" "What do you mean?" "Sally, you've felt estranged from your family for all the time I've known you. Maybe she was trying to tell you something." "What?" "I've gotten the impression that you felt that by choosing to be a part of Starfleet you were no longer a part of the family, or even a true Mobian. Your family may never even have said in so many words that you had rejected them, but that was how YOU felt." "Yes," she said quietly. "It seemed to make sense at the time, but to hear you say it...." "Emotions have a way of doing that. Anyway, I get a sense now that the feeling of estrangement has been replaced by a sense of wholeness, of belonging. It feels as if the conflict has been resolved." Sally looked up at him and smiled. "You're good." "It's what I do," Tal shrugged. Sally rose. "I'll be contacting you to set up an appointment. There are still a few things I feel the need to talk about." "Any time you want to see me, let me know." Sally left the shuttle bay and entered the nearest turbolift. Despite the fact that her quarters were on Deck 5 with those of the rest of the senior staff, she instructed it to take her to Deck 3. Walking down the empty hallway, Sally stopped in front of a door. Pressing a spot on the door frame she could hear the familiar two-tone chirp inside. She also heard Eddie sleepily mumbling "What?" She let herself into the room. Eddie sat up in bed at once. "When did you get back?" Without answering, she walked to a short shelf of books along one wall. She pulled down a volume--a collection of stories, essays and cartoons printed on the 500th anniversary of the birth of James Thurber. She opened the book and handed it to Eddie. "Read this to me. Just the last paragraph." Eddie's brow furrowed as he studied it. "Listen, I don't..." "Please?" "OK." Sally slipped out of her uniform. Climbing into Eddie's bed, she lay her head upon his chest. With one hand Eddie held the book while with the other he started stroking Sally's hair. He cleared his throat and began to read: "The poodle kept her sight, her hearing, and her figure up to her quiet and dignified end. She knew that the hand was upon her and she accepted it with a grave and unapprehensive resignation. This, her dark intelligent eyes seemed to be trying to tell me, is simply the closing of full circle, this is the flower that grows out of Beginning; this--not to make it too hard for you, friend--is as natural as eating the raspberries and raising the puppies and riding into the rain."