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". . . .and I want purple roses on my cake." I tell Mommy one morning at breakfast. I have just described my upcoming birthday party in great detail to her. I will be turning six in only five days! There is something magical about the anticipation of a birthday. I will be older, bigger, and the attention will be on me.
"All right, all right," Mommy says. "I know you're excited, but you still have school this morning, young lady. We'll talk about this when you get home." She stands, gathering our bowls and takes the dishes to the replicator to be converted back into energy.
While she is cleaning up Eric, I run into my room to get my data padd and pencil. Now that I am in my second semester of school, Mrs. Dewberry expects me to practice writing words today and wouldn't be happy if I forgot the padd. Besides, I have some pictures I want to show Hope. She's the Andorian girl. She's very nice and agreed to become my friend when I approached her during recess one day. Returning to the table with my padd, I sit down to glance over the pictures to make sure they are all finished to my liking.
"Come on, Shannara. Let's go!" Mommy says as she walks toward the door, carrying Eric on one hip and a handle bag filled with his paraphernalia around her opposite shoulder.
Placing my data padd under my arm, I rush to catch up with her. It will be another day of boring normalcy, I'm sure, but it will get me one day closer to my special day.
"Be sure to invite everyone to your birthday party," Mommy says as we reach my classroom several minutes later.
"Everyone?" I question, stopping in the doorway. "Please, don't make me invite Tammy!" Week after week, Tammy has made fun of me and rarely gets into trouble for it.
"You know how you'd feel if you were left out."
"But some of the kids are mean to me."
"Maybe by inviting them to your party, you'll convince them it's a peace offering."
Some things parents just cannot understand. I decide not to argue with Mommy anymore, while at the same time firmly remaining against the idea of inviting Tammy or a few other of the kids to my party. It's my party and I'll invite who I want!
Mommy kisses me and then turns to walk away. I am getting used to this routine, aren't I? This dull, normal routine. But I'll never learn to like it.
"Good morning, Shannara." The teacher greets me as I step into the classroom. She continues to acknowledge her other students as they enter. She is a pleasant woman. At least, she makes school bearable.
I approach Hope and hold my data padd out toward her. "I drew some pictures for you, Hope," I say. "I thought they might cheer you up." Yesterday after finding out her beloved pet cat had died, my friend had not felt well all day. "They're pictures of you and Shadow, so you can remember him forever."
I can sense that she is overwhelmed with gratitude mixed with the grief she still feels. "Oh, thank you," she says as she takes my padd to look through the three pictures. "I'll copy them onto a data chip later." She hands my padd back to me.
"I'm having a birthday party in five days. I'm going to be six years old. Would you like to come?"
"Sure, I'd love to." She shrugs, not completely committed to the idea of having fun. Before I can think of another way to try to cheer her up, we are interrupted.
"Can I come, too?"
We turn to see Bradley standing next to us. I suppose, he's okay. "If you want to," I tell him. "I guess boys can come."
"You're not going to have a bunch of frilly girl's stuff are you?"
Somehow, his question makes me think of Tammy. That would be just the sort of party she would want. "No, of course not. We'll play games on the holodeck. How does Skip the Rock sound?"
"I don't believe I know that one." Hope says.
"It's fun," Bradley tells her. "You jump from rock to rock in a stream and the winner is the last one to stay dry."
"And we can use the holodeck to play Hide and Seek and all sorts of fun games." I say.
"Who else are you going to invite?"
I look around the room and realize I still don't know any of the other kids outside of my group well. How do I make friends with any of them? "I don't know."
"Well, you need at least five for a decent game."
"Then I'll invite Susan and Eddie," I say, walking away from them to catch my other playmate's attention. Both agree to come to the party on Holodeck Three at 1800 hours on Wednesday. My birthday. I'm so looking forward to being the special one.
The chime rings, indicating the beginning of the school day and all the children scrambles for their desks. When everyone is seated, the teacher announces, "Today class, we will first work on our spelling. Please activate your data padds and write your name at the top right-hand corner."
After I turn on my padd, I suddenly realize I have lost my data pencil. I look under my desk thinking I have dropped it. But it is not there! I look over at Mrs. Dewberry, wondering how angry she will be with me. I don't want her to yell at me for being forgetful, but if I don't get my assignment done I will probably be in even greater trouble.
I raise my hand and wait for her to call on me. "Yes, Shannara?"
"I don't have a pencil." I say and lower my eyes in shame.
"What is that on the top edge of your data padd?"
Running my hand along the data padd, to my further embarrassment, I discover my pencil. Yet I swear it wasn't there a moment ago! While others snicker around me, I do my best to ignore them. I flip on my data padd and as I write the letters of my name, I suddenly feel strange. It is almost as though I am not holding the pencil and that it is forming the letters for me!
The teacher walks by each beginners' desk to check that we have spelled our names and formed the letters correctly, and stops for a closer look at mine. "Well done, Shannara," she says. "Your handwriting is really improving."
Smiling, I take note that she doesn't comment on the handwriting of the others in the group. Maybe today, I'm not the one getting into trouble.
Later during recess, I decide to draw a picture for Alexander on my padd. After a delay in completing his degree, he will be returning shortly. Father says it is because Alexander's teacher failed to inform him of some graduation requirements. It has been almost unbearable waiting to see him and I want him to know I welcome him home. He has a pet Targ named Wynie. She is a funny-looking creature with a pot belly and natty fur, but he really cares for her, so I draw a picture of Alexander walking Wynie on the streets of Q'ronos.
I wish I could go to Q'ronos. I wish I could go anywhere. Since their duties are far too important to my parents, they rarely take any shore leave time. Sometimes Mommy takes me on shopping trips or to visit famous sites, but only twice have I spent more than a few hours off the Enterprise; once on my fourth birthday, and then later when we visited Grandma Lwaxana for a week. I have explored popular planets inside the holodeck, but somehow I imagine it isn't the same. I hate living on a starship. When Alexander comes, I'm going to ask him all--absolutely everything--about living on a planet.
As I save the picture to a file, the figures on the screen begin moving! I blink my eyes several times to clear my vision, but they are still moving and I swear I hear the Targ mewing. Glancing around the room, I search for one of my friends.
"Susan, Susan," I exclaim.
She rushes over from the clubhouse where she has been playing with some dolls. "What is it?"
I point at my data padd and to my disappointment, she looks confused. Turning back to the picture, I realize it is unchanged, unmoving--the same drawing that I made for Alexander. I examine the pencil in my hand, rolling it with my fingers. Surely, I had imagined the whole incident.
"Nothing," I finally say. "I thought you'd like to see the picture I drew for my brother."
"Oh nice." She replies with little feeling. I can sense she doesn't care.
I clear the screen on my data padd. Maybe Alexander will like it. Maybe he will even let me play with his Targ.
When Mommy comes to pick me up from school, she says, "I have a surprise for you, Shannara."
"What is it?" I ask, refusing to take her offered hand and skipping ahead down the corridor.
"You'll see when we get home." I turn around to probe her mind gently for any hints. She has a smirk on her face. Oh how I wish I could read thoughts like Grandma Lwaxana!
"Patience, my dear." She says well aware of my mental touch.
We do not stop at Deck Eight. "Mommy, aren't we picking up Eric?"
"Because Eric is already home with Daddy."
"Daddy's home early!" I exclaim. "Is that my surprise?"
"Part of it." Mommy replies mysteriously.
When we walk through the door, I see Daddy and Eric play wrestling, but no sign of any surprise. I half turn back toward Mommy, about to ask her again when someone jumps out from the corner and startles me.
"Surprise!" Alexander exclaims. He looks different, older. After staring dumbfounded at him for a long moment, I realize why: He is beginning to grow hair on his face. More than before, I recognize his resemblance to our father.
I leap into my brother's arms, and he spins me around. "I can't believe you're finally here." I say and giggle.
Daddy gets up from the floor and comes to us. "Welcome home, Alexander," he says, patting my brother on the shoulder. "It is good to have you back."
"Yeah!" I agree. "Are you going to stay here from now on?"
"I don't know. I'll have to think about it. But I can promise you a trip to the holodeck tomorrow." I clap my hands, excited that I will not have to spend Saturday at the daycare. "That is if it's okay with you, Deanna."
Mommy smiles and nods her agreement.
That decided, I lift my data padd, still clutched firmly in my hand. "I drew this for you. It's a picture of you and Wynie." As he accepts the padd, I consider telling him that it was drawn with a magic pencil, but change my mind. They would not believe me.
"I brought Wynie with me if you would like to see her later."
"May I?" I ask, turning toward my parents.
"After lunch," Mommy says. "Now go in the bathroom and clean up."
Alexander sets me down, and I dash into the bathroom. I step up to the sink but rather than run the water, I reach into my pocket and pull out my pencil. I study it in my hand and in the mirror. Is there anything special about it? I tap it against the countertop and spin it around. When I lose my grip, amazingly, the pencil continues spinning for several seconds. I gasp, covering my mouth so no one can hear me.
Finally, the pencil drops and rolls to the sink handle, reminding me of what I came into the bathroom for.
I turn on the hot water and watch the steam rise to the mirror. Why am I standing here, not washing my hands?. I fear something I cannot see is keeping me glued to this spot. Letters begin to form on the mirror, spelling out my name.
I scream, snapping out of my trance and run out of the room to plow into Daddy.
"What has upset you?" He demands.
"There's someone in the bathroom!"
Daddy does not question my belief, and although I am still afraid, I follow him into the bathroom, remaining in the shadow of his protection. The water is still running, of course, and the room is filled with steam.
Daddy turns off the water and as the steam begins to clear, he says, "There is no one in here." I am afraid he will accuse me of lying. Instead, he gently grasps my shoulder. "Do not be afraid. You should be brave and strong. Many enemies cannot be seen. You will have to--"
"Worf?" We turn to see Mommy standing in the doorway. "Are you trying to frighten our daughter?" She is smiling, but I can sense her growing angry at Daddy.
"I'm not frightened anymore." I say in Daddy's defense.
"No, of course not," Daddy responds. "I was only trying to instill a sense of prowess in her so she might defend herself if necessary."
"I don't want her to deny her Klingon heritage, but don't you think she's a bit young to be taught the ways of a warrior?"
"I was given my first bat'leth for my fourth birthday."
"Mommy, Daddy." I say, raising my voice.
They glance at me, and Mommy says, "We'll continue this discussion later. We don't want to spoil Alexander's homecoming." She steps out of the small room, abruptly ending the argument.
Now I know I don't want to tell anyone about my magic pencil. "Finish up quickly," Daddy says "we do not ant to keep Alexander waiting."
After Daddy leaves, I turn to retrieve my pencil and discover it is no longer on the counter. I look under the sink, circle the room, searching the entire floor. It's gone! My magic pencil is gone! I should be glad, for all the trouble it has caused me. Yet I feel quite sad. I want to see what else it could have done for me. At least the excitement is over and we can enjoy a peaceful dinner.
*****
The snout of the small beast tickles my fingers and I giggle. The Targ runs away from me and I chase after it, both of us squealing. Life can't get any better than this. I don't need any magic to keep me happy. My big brother is home!
Alexander is staying in a one-bedroom quarters. He says I can visit whenever I like. What could be better than having family around?
*****
Saturday afternoon, Alexander takes me for a trip to the holodeck. He instructs the computer to load a program of Q'ronos. "You can step through the doors first, Shannara," he says. He is eager for my reaction.
As I enter the holodeck, the ground squishes against my shoes and a nearby waterfall roars against my ears. Animals, which I cannot name, are splashing in the water. I turn to my brother. "It's beautiful."
"Would you like to see the area where I was staying?" He asks.
"Oh yes!"
He points to my left. "It's in that direction."
Around some flowering bushes, I see a path that winds down a hill. This is Q'ronos? Where are all the flying vehicles and advanced technologies? I voice this question.
"This is Q'ronos," my brother replies, "but it is the Q'ronos of fifteen hundred years ago."
"Why are you showing me the past? I thought you were going to show me the places where you were and what you did?"
"Because I want to teach you a bit of what I learned about Q'ronos. You see, we Klingons value our history. It is a significant part of the honor each Klingon feels--to know we are descendants of Kahless' people."
"The Unforgettable," I mumble. Daddy has told me the story of Kahless so many times that I could repeat it word for word. Still it is a fascinating story, and I would not mind hearing it from Alexander.
"Yes, this is the period when he lived and died an honorable death. He fought Morath for twelve days and twelve nights to restore his family's honor and to guide other honorable Klingons to Sto-vo-kor--the afterlife."
"Daddy told me about Sto-vo-kor, but what is the afterlife?"
Alexander is uncomfortable with the question. He does not wish to answer it. Why do I always ask such stupid questions?
"I think Father should handle that question." He finally says. " Let me show you the battleground."
"I thought you were going to show me where you stayed."
"I am, only as it was. In our time, the building is nearly two thousand years old and still standing proud."
I don't understand how a building can be proud, but am sure Alexander knows what he is talking about.
He leads me down the path until we reach a village where people of all ages are cleaning the debris from an accident. Even the elderly, who are barely able to walk, and children barely out of diapers are joining in on the cleanup.
"What has happened here, Alexander?"
"This is the scene after the great battle. These people are the honorable followers of Kahless."
"Really!" Daddy never told me much about what went on after the battle. He is always so intent on the battle itself. He loves every movement, every swing, thrust, and parry. He knows how Kahless fought bravely against Morath. Die with honor.
"These people are sad over the loss of Kahless, but even more than that, they are honored to have known him, to have served under him. Throughout history since, it has been the goal of many Klingons to master the art of the bat'leth and to become a great warrior like Kahless."
The villagers, filthy and exhausted, are manually picking up the pieces and tossing them into a bin. How many hours have they been working already? I wish I could sense their feelings, but holograms have no emotions. They can act out the motions of those from times past, but they cannot feel the pain, the anguish and they certainly aren't experiencing the sense of honor that the real people must have felt.
"Is that what you want, to become a great warrior?"
"No. I do not wish to engage in warfair."
"Then why did we come here? Why are you showing me this?"
"That's a very intelligent question, Shannara. I spent time on Q'ronos to study our history. If I am to help bring peace to our people, then I need to understand our past."
"How do you plan to do that?"
"It will not be easy, but I intend to run for the position of embassador in a few years. I haven't yet told our father. I am not sure how he will react. I don't think Father has ever quite gotten over my refusal to become a warrior."
"I could become his warrior."
Alexander kneels down and grasps me by my sides. "No, Shannara!"
"Why? Aren't girls allowed?"
"Quite the opposite. In the Klingon culture, females are encouraged to show aggression. I don't believe in the values of a warrior. Father thinks he wants to be a warrior and more importantly raise warriors, but deep down, I think he wants more. Promise me something, Shannara. Promise me you'll be more, that you will live up to your fullest potential."
"How do I know what that is?"
"You have to search within yourself."
"Like ask myself. . . .who am I?"
Every time I ask myself that question, I do not know how to answer it. All I know is who I am not and what I don't want to be. "I don't want to be Klingon." I announce.
"What! That's not the message I'm trying to give you. It's okay to feel pride for your people; for who you are. This is a part of our history and we cannot forget it. Why do you wish not to be Klingon?"
The holograms stop what they are doing, waiting for my explanation. I cannot stand their eyes on me like lasers trying to rip me apart. I cover my ears with my hands and scream, "Be gone!" Suddenly, the villagers vanish. I gasp in shock. How is that possible when I didn't call on the computer?
"Computer," Alexander says, "please reactivate holographic images."
"Unable to comply. Holographic images have not been terminated."
I don't understand what is happening, and it frightens me to see my confusion mirrored in my brother's eyes. He's older and is supposed to guide me away from chaos. He doesn't really believe I did anything.
"What did you do?" His words accuse me, but I sense fear inside him. If the holodeck is malfunctioning, we could be in danger! "Computer, terminate program."
The scenery melts into the holodeck walls.
Maybe there never was a magic pencil. What if the magic is inside me? I don't want any part of it. "I want to go home!" I run away from Alexander, calling for the computer to open the exit door.
Moments later, I am sitting on the sofa in our quarters with Mommy and Daddy beside me. I am trying to catch my breath. I don't know how to explain what has happened to me today. I don't understand it!
"Please, tell us what has frightened you, Shannara." Mommy says in a soothing voice, but I can sense turmoil inside her.
Anxiously, I meet my Mommy's gaze.
"Alexander paged us with his communicator. He told us about the holographic characters disappearing," Daddy says. "Is that what frightened you?"
"Yes." I respond slowly, afraid to elaborate
"Go on," Mother encourages.
. "There's more to it. It's been going on since yesterday at school. I thought I had a magic pencil that could write my name perfect. Ask Mrs. Dewberry! She really likes how much my handwriting has improved."
"That's wonderful, Shannara," Mommy says. "I don't understand how you can equate that to having a magic pencil, though. Everyone improves with practice. Are you telling us this to change the subject? If there's something bothering you, it'll make you feel better to talk about it."
"I'm not changing the subject. Honest! Then I drew that picture for Alexander with the pencil. It started moving across the screen and--and the Targ was mewing at me."
"You certainly have a healthy imagination. Did your teacher give you this pencil?"
"No."
"Shannara," Mommy replies as she gets up to remove something from a desk drawer, "I don't know where you got this magic pencil of yours, but you left your data pencil on the table this morning." She hands the pencil to me, and I stare at it as though I've never seen it before. "Whoever loaned you a pencil, please try to remember to return it to them tomorrow."
"I lost it."
"Very well," my father interjects. "We will replace the pencil. Right now, we need to discuss the incident on the holodeck further."
"Do we have to? I'm really not frightened anymore. . . .Father." I'm not sure why I'm calling him by a more formal name. Perhaps, I'm attempting to be more like Alexander. I think I sound older, braver. As his expression softens and I sense his mood shifting to one of pride, I decide to call him Father from now on. "It was only a malfunction. It couldn't hurt me."
"You are a brave and honorable young lady." He glances at Mommy before continuing. She doesn't mind the direction he is taking, unlike before in the bathroom. "Your mother and I have discussed it, and we have decided you are old enough to be taught some bat'leth techniques. If you are willing, I shall offer you a miniature bat'leth as your sixth-birthday gift."
I'm not sure I want to learn anything about fighting, but don't want to disappoint my Father. "Thank you, Father," I say, making eye contact with him and hoping he looks sincere. I can sense Mother's doubt. She knows I am agreeing only to please my Father. I wish I were more like my Mother. I admire her devotion to her Betazoid qualities and wonder what she could teach me about my empathic abilities. I want to ask her whether my experiences today are normal for a Betazoid. Yet I am afraid of what her answer might be.
"Good," Father says. "We will begin your first lesson tomorrow evening."
Great. . . another trip to the holodeck.
