Ethics Pt 4

Posted on Tuesday, 17 November 2020 - 8:17am by Petty Officer 1st Class Siana Ilian

Mission: Operation: Ouroboros
Location: Jupiter Station
Timeline: MD2

When she was five years old, her brothers dared her to climb to the top of the tallest tree in the park and tie their mother's scarf to the highest branch. Standing at the foot of the tree, peering up, her brown eyes had grown wider as she kept looking up and up and up... Swallowing down her fear, her brother's taunts echoing in her head, the small child began the climb. While little, she had made a vow to never back down or look weak in front of him. To do so would be months - or perhaps - eternal torment.

Several times she almost lost her footing, scrambling to grab hold of the nearest branch and clinging to it for dear life. If she fell, her mother would be furious. Never did it occur to her that such a fall could perhaps break every bone in her body. Or worse.

Despite the many near falls, she finally scrambled to the top of the tree and reached into her back pocket for the scarf. She frowned when her hand found the pocket empty.... where was it?

She looked all around her, but she couldn't see the blue silk scarf anywhere. Cautiously, she left her perch, trying to follow the same path she had used to climb up. It had to have fallen out as she climbed, or got snagged on something. Her mother wasn't just going to be furious if they lost it. She'd likely kill them all with her bare hands. They shouldn't have sneaked it out, not for some stupid dare. Tears sprung in her eyes as her search continued without success. It wasn't just any scarf. It was priceless. Irreplaceable.

"This," her mother had once told her, her face transformed by the warm smile on her lips as she laid out the blue scarf on the bed, the flecks of gold sparkling in the morning sunlight, "belonged to your grandmother. See, this initial, J, is for her."

Siana remembered thinking how pretty it was. So soft. She recalled tracing her fingers over the inscribed letters in the corner. J and A. As every curious child would, she had asked, "who is A?"

At that her mother's smile grew a little sadder. "When your grandmother was young, younger than me, she was very much in love. His name was Aryn. He worked with your great-grandfather at the university and within a year they were to be married. He would always leave her a gift, like this scarf, if he needed to be away for his research. Sadly it wasn't to be. Your grandmother kept every gift, every message he sent to her. She missed him very much. But then she found a new love, in your grandfather. And in her children, and her grandchildren..."

The sound of a branch snapping under foot snapped the little girl out of her memories, her breath catching in her throat as, just for that one fraction of a second, she felt as if she were suspended in mid air. And then! With scream she fell, hitting into every branch on the way down, each impact turning her this way and that, the world a kaleidoscope of green, brown and her own arms and legs. And blue! Her hand snatched out, snagging the streak of blue before it was out of reach just moments before she hit the ground, the still wet and soggy grass providing a softer landing than she had any right to expect.

She lay there, panting, aching all over and squinting up at the sky. At least until a shadow fell over her, her brother peering down at her. Sure she was still alive, he grinned, his missing front tooth all too evident and grinned. "That was so cool Si," he declared. "But you didn't get the scarf on top. Too bad..."


***********



Everything was prepared. His lecture, complete with his own scribbled notes, was ready and now... now he needed people. Attendance was not mandatory, and he wondered if anyone on this station still had the same love for his work as he did. Of course, these days, such work was largely theoretical. And most work undertaken in his field, for the past ten years, had been to undo years of progress. It was most discouraging. And this, he knew, would be his last such appearance. Retirement beckoned. Forced upon him early by ill health, granted, but he was looking forward to returning home. Perhaps some time in the gardens of his home would help restore his tired and weary bones.

As the room began to fill, his grey eyes searched the assembled faces. A small smile played on his lips as he saw the woman slip into a space in the back row. Even in the now dimly lit auditorium, the resemblance was startling. It never failed to transport his memories back to a completely different lifetime. A time which had been full of promises and promise. Planning a future for himself, his wife to be and their unborn child. Of course the young woman was not the same woman who had so completely and utterly beguiled him. Jana, like his former host Aryn, was but a memory. Fortunately he still possessed many of those. Ten lifetimes worth, to be exact.

For his part, Verod had been an ideal host. Not prone to flights of fancy or to follow his heart in quiet the headstrong way Aryn had done. Two very different men. And his work, devoted to computer programming and engineering, had resulted in a long absence from his home. It had amused Ilian, somewhat, to find that it was engineering which had brought Jana's descendent to one of his lectures many years ago. He had resolved to not speak with her, deciding it would be best, when - upon her raising a hand to ask a question - he had replied, "yes, Jana?"

A slip of the tongue from a preoccupied mind, yes. Yet one which had opened the 'can of worms' as Human's often said. That expression amused Ilian even more. When she approached him after the lecture he had little choice but to admit he had known her her grandmother and, naturally, to apologise for any upset his mistake may have caused. Up close, he could see the differences in them. Not least in the fact that the woman before him was far more shy, more reserved than her grandmother had every been. Yet the fact she was on Earth and not remaining on Trill suggested she had some of that spirit. Perhaps just hidden.

Never had he told her of how well he had known Jana. And yet around a month after the lecture, a package was delivered. A handwritten note had declared 'this belongs to you, not in a box...' and inside he found the same silk scarf he had gifted to Jana. A small tear had been stitched up and he wondered about that - something he actually intended to ask about during dinner with Ms Deeson tonight. There was a story to the scarf, and he was curious to hear it.

Fate, however, had other plans.


**********



"It isn't too late to change your mind," Dr Murray pointed out as he appeared beside the biobed, once again head to toe in surgical garb. "This is a big decision, any doubts, now is the time to speak up."

Now in a surgical gown, one designed to expose the section of her abdomen where the surgeons would be focusing their work, Siana shook her head. She had made her decision and she was not going to start second guessing herself now. This was not only about her, but about a symbiont who was deteriorating with every passing moment. "I appreciate your concern, Doctor, but my decision is made."

She thought of her parents, her brothers... all the fights they had about joining the Initiate Programme. Siana had never entertained the idea. She had wanted to just get out of her small town and live. Sure she had earned some more bumps and bruises along the way but she had no regrets. And now, here she was, about to become a host.

In truth her mind could not quite wrap around the idea of it all. To be her, but not her. To have ten lifetimes of experiences. To be responsible for a legacy dating back hundreds upon hundreds of years. And the fear. If it did work. If it didn't.

"Alright," Dr Murray announced to his staff, "lets begin..."


OFF