|
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
Nothing more has been mentioned about my magic pencil or the incident in the holodeck. I
sense that my parents have forgotten the matter. Holodeck malfunctions happen all the time and
are nothing to because overly concerned about. Why can't I forget about it?
Continuing my boring routine over the next few days, I try to delve into its normalcy to forget
my turmoil. Since I'm cooperating more Mother no longer feels rushed when dropping Eric and I
off before going to work. I suppose I am getting used to this routine. I couldn't be learning to like
school. Yet as my life moves forward same as other children's, I feel different. I am the only
Klingon, but that is not the source of my frustration. My pain is coming from within.
As the turbolift comes to a stop, I ask Mommy, "May I walk to school from here by
myself?" I want her to think I'm a big girl now, no longer afraid. "It's not far."
"Yes, you may," she says with little hesitation. "Does this mean you're beginning to like
school?"
"I wouldn't quite say that," I reply over my shoulder as I make my way down the corridor.
The turbolift closes on Mother, leaving me alone. I am really *not* afraid, I realize as sudden
confidence fills me . All right. I can do this! My feet are practically gliding across the floor as I
walk toward the classroom. I am nearly weightless. Nothing Tammy tries today will
destroy my confidence.
I reach the door, sensing Tammy nearby. She has something planned for me, I believe. How
do I prepare for it? Can I wish her to be gone as I did the holograghic characters? I shudder as I
anticipate such an option. Shannara, I tell myself, you don't want to be as evil as she is.
I hesitate in the doorway, arms folded and watch the other children play. I don't feel any
animosity toward them and yet I feel superior. I am better than them, stronger, smarter, braver.
What is happing to me? I must be more alien than before. The other children will hate me more
than ever! Why does that not frighten me? I should feel guilty. Mommy tells me that it isn't nice
to treat others like they're not as smart as you. I am not treating them any way, I think. I
just know somehow that something within me has suddenly awakened.
I step forward, and sure enough, Tammy steps out in front of me. I sense a loathing in her,
and although there is nothing unusual about that, I want to knock her down now more than ever.
She thrusts something in my face. I do not flinch even as I anticipate a weapon. She can't hurt me!
I know this. I have become invincible. A moment later, I realize the object is a mirror.
"I have a magic mirror, just like Beauty," Tammy says. It looks like an ordinary mirror to me,
but before I can thoroughly examine it, she quickly withdraws it. "You're too ugly to look into it."
"I am not!" I protest. "You don't really have a magic mirror."
"Do to!"
"You can't replicate magic."
"I never said this one was replicated."
"Besides, if you did have a magic mirror, you'd be too stupid to know how to use it." So
much for treating her nice, I think, feeling only a flicker of regret. "You wouldn't see your face
when you look into it."
"Oh yeah? " she raises her arm and swings at me hard enough to knock me down. Yet I
remain standing! I don't even feel any pain. Tammy gasps in utter shock, dropping the mirror to
clutch at her injured hand. Miraculously, the mirror does not shatter, and I pick it up. I sense
Tammy's frustration as she watches me carry it back to my desk. After I sit down, I stare at my
reflection. It doesn't fade into an image of far off lands. Nothing magical about this mirror, I
think smugly. My triumph over Tammy is a greater prize than the mirror, though. I am invincible.
The magic is inside of me.
I am better than any magic pencil.
I look back at Tammy, who is still standing where I left her. "Sit down," I command. To my
amazement, she does not hesitate to obey me, crouching down on the floor. "Not on the floor!" I
exclaim. "--at your desk."
Other kids glance at me, startled by my outburst. I don't want to share my mirror with them
and quickly slip it into my desk. "We're just playing a game," I tell them. "Tammy's pretending to
be my slave."
Why does this power not scare me? I should not enjoy controlling Tammy like a puppet. I
decide to release my mental grip on her and closing my eyes, visualize a long bony hand crawling
away from my nemesis and back into myself. Maybe now she will realize she can no longer
threaten me, no longer bully me. I hope I won't have to use this power again. The mere
acknowledgment of its existence should be enough to control Tammy's behavior. I won't use it
unless necessary, I vow. Tammy better be smart enough not to provoke me! I don't want to harm
anyone or scare everyone away. I don't want to be alone.
I manage to make it through the school day without attempting to use this control again. Yet
I can feel it building inside of me like a fist clenching and unclenching. I need to find a safe way to
release it before it explodes into disaster.
*****
After dinner, I accompany Father to the holodeck where he presents me with a miniature
bat'leth. It is shiny, smooth, and perfectly proportioned for someone my size. I grasp the weapon,
holding it awkwardly.
Trying to call up the magic inside me, I long to show Father a natural ability for this Klingon
sport.
"No, like this." Father shows me how to properly place my hands. He then retrieves his own
Bat'leth. "You must become one with the bat'leth. It is a part of you; and you a part of it."
Flexing my wrists, I test the feel of the weapon. I imagine that it is an extension of my arms.
"It fits you well," Father comments. "When you are older, you will graduate to a full-size
bat'leth. For today, I will simply demonstrate some maneuvers for you. Computer, run bat'leth
exercise program A."
The grid transforms into a white room with a large grey cushion underneath us. I squish my
feet in it, grateful it will break any potential falls.
Father circles his bat'leth in a sequence of figure eights, moving back and forth across the
cushion in a pattern. I attempt to mimic his movements, sure I am failing miserably.
"Nice try," Father humors me. "You will not go wrong with much practice."
"I am willing, Father," I tell him. I can sense his pride in hearing these words. Sacrifices are
sometimes worth making.
"Let's try the maneuver again."
We practice this exercise several times, my performance improving with each attempt. I grow
very tired and stil I continue, not wanting to ask him to stop.
"You learn quickly," he says finally, lowering his bat'leth and setting it back down.
I hold onto mine, not yet ready to give up its strength. I am invincible.
"We may continue this tomorrow if you like. Time permitting, you will benefit from one or
two lessons a week."
For how long? I wonder. Does he expect me to continue my bat'leth training until I become a
great warrior? I remember my brother's words about our Father. I don't know if Alexander is
correct. Will my Father push me into becoming a warrior? Even more importantly, should I let
him?
If only I knew what I wanted to become.
*****
One more day until my birthday, I realize as I open my eyes the following morning. A woman
steps into my room, and I am sure she is not my mother. I stifle a scream before instructing the
computer to raise the lights. Once I see who it is, I jump out of bed and run into her arms.
"Grandma, you came for my birthday!"
"Of course, I did Littlest One," she replies, running her hand through my tousled curls. "I
wouldn't miss your special day for anything. Not to mention the cake, the ice cream," she teases.
"I wish I didn't have to go to school so I could spend the whole day with you."
"But she does, Mother," my Mother says sternly. We turn to see her standing in the doorway.
"So don't either one of you get any ideas. There will be plenty of time after school and during the
weekend for you to visit."
"Of course, there will be," Grandma says. "And I will pick you up from school." She glances
at Mommy and I sense she has realized that Mommy hasn't given her permission.
"Please Mommy!" I beg.
"I suppose it would be all right as long as you don't neglect your schoolwork."
"Great! I want to give you your birthday present a day early."
I clap my hands, more eager to spend time alone with Grandma than to see my birthday
present. I want to ask her some questions only she can answer. If only mommy weren't here
now....
*****
Tammy is not in school today. After what happened yesterday, I wonder whether she's sick or
afraid of me. I feel sick over it now. Why did I feel pleasure over controlling her? My behavior
was more becoming of her. I cannot let it happen again.
I am afraid to play with the other children. What if I unleash this evil power on another one of
them? What if I unleash something worse? Trapped by this fear, I remain at my desk during recess
with my head bowed.
"Shannara, are you feeling all right?" Mrs. Dewberry asks, touching me lightly on the
shoulder.
"No," I admit. "I'm too tired to play. Is it okay if I take a nap instead?"
"Maybe we should see if your mother can pick you up a bit early today."
"My Grandma's on the ship. Why don't you ask her?" Again, I feel the same control I exerted
over Tammy flowing through me. Do I really have the ability to place suggestions inside people's
minds?
The teacher nods her approval. "That might be best. We wouldn't want to unnecessarily
interrupt your mother in the middle of a counseling session.
As the teacher turns her back toward me, I smile. Already, I feel better.
Now I will have time to ask Grandma those questions without worrying about anyone else
overhearing.
*****
"Now that we're a safe distance from the classroom," Grandma begins, "are you really sick,
Shannara?"
"I'm starting to feel better," I reply, tapping my data padd against my thigh. If she'll let me sit
and talk and draw a few pictures, I know I will get into a much better mood. I hope she doesn't
ask me to explain why I wasn't feeling well--or worse, tell me I have to go back to school. "Just a
little bit. You're not going to make me go back to school, are you?"
Looking into Grandma's eyes, I can sense understanding. "Well, I don't think it'll hurt to miss
a little school just this once. We can spend some time in my guest quarters until your Mother
finishes her work. You can try on the birthday dress I bought for you. What else would you like
to do?"
I wait until we step onto the turbolift before answering. "I have some questions I want to ask
you, Grandma. You're an expert telepath, and I could really use your help."
"Really?" She looks at me amazed. I sense that she is surprised. She probably expected me to
ask to play a game. But I think having some answers right now is more important. We can play
games later. "Expert isn't quite the right word. 'Gifted' is more like it. What would you like to
know?"
"What's it like being a full Betazoid?"
"My, my, that is such a philosophical question from someone not quite six years old."
I'm not sure what philosophical means, but I think Grandma's telling me, in her own way,
that she's proud of me.
"Well, I know that you're different from Mommy. She's an empath. She senses people's
feelings. You read people's thoughts. Does that make you better than Mommy?"
The turbolift door opens before she can reply and we step out, walking toward her quarters.
"My abilities are different from your mother's, yes, but different does not always mean better."
"What if people don't want to share their thoughts with you?"
"Ethics are one's perception of what is right and what is wrong."
I think about her explanation and wonder whether my treatment of Tammy was unethical.
"Can you make people do things--I mean things they wouldn't do on their own?"
"While your mother does accuse me of trying to have too much control over people, the truth
is that people ultimately do what they want." We step into her quarters, and I am amazed by how
well decorated it is, considering Grandma will only be using it for a few days. "No telepath I
know has that power."
This is not the answer I expected. I was sure my unexpected control over Tammy had come
from some newly developed Betazoid part of me. Should I tell Grandma about it? How would she
react if I did?
"Shannara, has your Mother told you anything about the Akodians?" Grandma steps up to her
replicator and orders two bubbly drinks.
"Mommy doesn't want to discuss it with me, but I've heard her talking with Daddy about
them." Accepting the drink, I sniff at it before taking a sip. It is very sweet. How can Grandma
drink such a concoction?
"What have you heard, Dear?"
After setting my drink and my data padd on the endtable, I plop down on her sofa and grab a
pillow to clutch for comfort. "She's afraid." I bite at my lower lip as I remember some of the fear
I've sensed in Mommy from time to time whenever she is thinking about these unknown aliens.
"Oh my! No wonder you're confused." Grandma sits down and places a loving hand on my
arm. "My dear child, the Akodians are a telepathic race much like Betazoids. They created a
phenomenon known as pocket wormholes and when your Mommy was pregnant with you,
contact with these wormholes was very distressing for her. Our *only* problem is that our
interaction with them is usually quite distressing for us."
"Why?"
"I wish I could answer that. What I do know, however, is that because of that contact, you
were born with your empathic ability turned on. Most Betazoids show no signs of telepathy until
they reach their teen years."
I am curious about these Akodians and hope to learn more about them. Maybe they are
responsible for this magical power inside of me. I wish I could give it back to them.
"Grandma, do you believe in magic?"
"What type of magic?"
Again, I need to think about how much to tell her. "The kind used in fairy tales," I say,
deciding it is a safe approach. I don't want her to realize that I am referring to myself when I
speak of magic.
She raises her eyebrows at me, thinking I'm not being completely honest with her. I can pick
up on Grandma's thoughts better than I can anyone else. "There are many things out in the
universe that we don't understand. A lot of people perceive what they cannot explain as magic.
Do I believe in magic? I believe in love and laughter and generosity. I suppose there is a bit
of magic in that."
"But what about someone who can control another person. Is that evil magic?
"There are beings out there who have used their abilities to manipulate others."
"Do the Akodians manipulate?"
"Oh Heavens no!"
I am confused. Why is Mother so afraid of them, then?
"I didn't mean to scare you," Grandma continues. "The Akodians have become our allies.
They did not wish to bring us any harm and when they learned of their effect on Betazoids, they
did every thing within their power to eliminate the problem."
Awkwardly, I pick at the lace on the pillow, wishing desperately for a way to move on to a
more pleasant subject. Just as I think to ask Grandma about my birthday dress, however, she
speaks up again.
"Shannara, what has brought this on? Did something happen in school?"
I hesitate, grappling for a way to tell Grandma enough truth to satisfy her. "There's this girl
who likes to bully me. She makes fun of me every chance she gets, and she usually doesn't get into
trouble for it. All I want is for her to leave me alone!"
"What happened between you and this other girl?"
"I don't know." Well, that isn't entirely true, I realize. I don't know *how* it happened
is more like it. I pick up my data padd and start a new drawing to avoid eye contact with
Grandma. "She was acting really weird, pretending she wanted to be my friend. She's never been
nice to me before"
"Shannara. . ." Grandma is not buying it. Is she reading my thoughts?
"I didn't hurt her, honest! All I did was take her magic mirror. She was teasing me with it and
saying bad things about me." I draw thick lines on my data padd, punctuating my words.
"I thought you said she was acting like she wanted to be friends."
"That was after I took the mirror--because she wanted it back and thought she could
manipulate me. I didn't want to give it back, not after the way she treated me."
"Manipulate. Where did you learn such a word?"
"Daddy uses it sometimes when he talks about defeating an opponent. He says you don't
have to be as strong as your enemy that win if you've mastered the art of manipulation."
"It's certainly not a nice accusation."
"Well, Tammy's not a nice person. I took the mirror, because she won't stop teasing me."
"Does that make it right?"
"No. . .but I was angry! So I made her sit down and refused to give her back her mirror."
"What do you mean you made her sit down?"
"I don't know how--I just told her to sit down and she obeyed me."
"Aha," Grandma says, a great deal of doubt in that single word. "Sounds to me like you
frightened the poor child. Don't you think you should return the mirror to her? Shannara, just
because someone does wrong onto you, doesn't make it right for you to do likewise."
I don't like the thought of giving up the mirror. Yet I feel so guilty about it. Why? Tammy
never feels guilty about the way she treats me. In fact, I usually sense a sinful pleasure from her.
"She doesn't deserve to have the mirror back," I say. "But I will give it back to her, because it
is the right thing to do. I don't want others to think I'm as evil as she is."
"My, are you sure you're only going to be six tomorrow?"
I giggle. I am nothing like Tammy. Let her have the mirror, so she can stare at her pretty face
all day. I have something better--a grandma who will play games with me, let me play hooky from
school, and take mud baths on Shiralea VI while sipping at papalla juice. I am beautiful from
within.
"I think it's time for that birthday dress," Grandma says, standing up and retrieving it from her
bedroom. It is yellow with lace and a tie that wraps around my waist.
"Oh thank you, Grandma!" I exclaim as I accept the new outfit. Removing my jumper, I slip
into the dress. Grandma helps me zip it up and ties the bow.
As I twirl around, Grandma says, "My aren't you beautiful."
She's probably just saying that because she's my grandma. Grandma's always think their
grandchildren are perfect. I wonder if Tammy has a grandma and if her grandma ever gave her a
beautiful dress. I decide I don't care. Grandma gave this dress to me, and I love it!
"Thank you, Grandma Lwaxana," I say, hugging her waist. "Can we play a game now?"
"As soon as you change back into your other clothes. We don't want to get your dress dirty
before tomorrow." After I change back into my school clothes and neatly hang up my new dress,
Grandma asks, "What would you like to play? Laughing hour?"
"Laughing hour?"
"You mean to tell me your mother hasn't taught you about the Betazoid laughing hour?"
"No, but I would very much like it if you would teach me." Fully dressed, I close my eyes.
"Read the thought I'm sending you, Grandma."
"I love you, too, dear." Grandma picks me up to hug me and lets out a hearty laugh. "That's
the sound of a Betazoid laugh," she tells me.
I attempt to mimic her. More than ever, I want to be full Betazoid.
*****
"You had no right, Mother," my Mother is yelling at Grandma. "She should have stayed in
school if she was not ill. I can't believe Mrs. Dewberry allowed you to take her without my
consent."
I'm sitting on the floor, helping Eric play with his connecting blocks. I try to ignore the
argument and draw within myself to avoid the bombardment of emotions floating in the air. Eric
has no problem managing this, tasting each of his blocks before stacking them. I don't think he can
sense emotions. Maybe he's more like our father and will never have the ability.
"The poor dear was upset," Grandma responds. "She wanted to talk with someone about a
girl who has been bullying her. You're the counselor, dear. I thought you would understand the
need for mental health."
Mother is further angered by this, but also hurt and humiliated. She is humiliated, because she
is beginning to see Grandma's viewpoint. "Mother, at the very least, you should have paged me,
so I could take care of my own daughter."
"There was no point. You were busy and I wasn't. I managed to get the situation under
control. Besides, I seldom have the opportunity to spend time with my granddaughter. Shannara
knows what she needs to do. Don't you Shannara?"
Both of them turn toward me, and I look up at them, our eyes locking like Eric's blocks.
"Yes," I say weakly. "I need to say I'm sorry and return Tammy's mirror to her."
"You see," Grandma says turning back toward my Mother, "Problem solved."
Yeah right, I think. Tammy won't let it end.
*****
Sitting at my desk with the lid raised, I peer down at the mirror. I almost hope that Tammy
won't be in school today, so I can hold onto the mirror for one more day. Especially since it is my
birthday.
She enters the room, and I close the lid to my desk. Maybe I can wait until recess to give her
the mirror back.
She does not look at me as she sits at her desk. She talks to no one. My stomach begins to
rumble. Why are my emotions so mixed up right now? How can I want to get this over with as
quickly as possible, while at the same time be so unwilling to give up the mirror?
The teacher begins class, postponing my decision. I try to concentrate on my lessons for the
day, but find myself more intent on probing Tammy's thoughts. She is afraid of me now, and
although my mind scan is gentle, I watch her grow tense. She folds her arms and stares at her
desk. Minutes later, she is startled when the teacher asks her why she is not working with her
data padd.
"I-I'm sorry," Tammy stammers.
"Are you not feeling well, dear?" the teacher inquires.
"I'm okay. I'll get to work." She puts on a brave. With a tap of her finger, she activates her
padd.
"I'm glad to hear that, Tammy, because once we are finished with this lesson, we are going to
take a break to have cupcakes in celebration of Shannara's sixth birthday."
I beam at this unexpected announcement, but I do not miss Tammy's reaction. For a moment,
she drops her guard and is filled with utter disgust. With just a thought, I could vanish her from
this existence. I don't know how I've achieved this power, only that I am certain I'm capable of it.
Back off, back off, I warn myself. Just as I am retreating from the urge, I sense that Tammy is
slipping back into her own emotional cocoon.
I'm no longer smiling and even wish the birthday cupcakes had never been offered. However,
when everyone is finished with the assignment, I accept my birthday gift from our teacher
graciously and she lets the younger kids sit on the rug to eat them. I bring the mirror with me and
sit down beside Tammy. She scoots away from me.
"No, wait!" I say, holding the mirror out to her. "I want to give this back to you." I sense that
she does not believe me and probably thinks I'm trying to trick her. I place the mirror in her lap.
"I'm sorry for what I did to you the other day. You can come to my birthday party this evening in
the holodeck if you like."
"Okay." She is beginning to relax now. Maybe she is still a little afraid of me, but willing to
chance being around me. I think I'm starting to feel good about this idea of making a peace
offering.
*****
Grandma Lwaxana comes to take me to the holodeck an hour before the party and promises
to help me design the scenery for the games. I choose a program with a long stream running
through a growth of trees. Once I am satisfied with the formation of water, I begin instructing the
computer where to place each rock.
"My dear," Grandma says, "I think that gives you far too much tactical advantage.
"Computer, randomly assort the rocks."
I laugh as I watch the rocks vanish and reappear in new locations.
Shortly afterward, my parents arrive along with Alexander and baby Eric in tow. Mommy is
carrying my cake, which I am delighted has the hugest purple roses I have ever seen! I run up to
admire it as Mommy brings up a holographic table to set it on. I feel like Beauty as she received
her rose from her father.
I dance around for a time, laughing and watching my yellow dress swirl. Everything is ready
for my guests to arrive. I consider skipping across the rocks to pass the time, but change my mind
as I realize I could fall in and lose the game before it has even starts. How would my guests treat
me if I greeted them in a soaking wet dress?
The holodeck door opens a while later, signaling my first guest. I rush over to greet
Commander Data, who is holding a rather large package. Mommy invited some of the adults she
works with to the party. I don't mind. Commander Data is lots of fun!
"Can I guess what you got me?"
"No," he replies. "That would spoil the surprise."
Mother walks up to us with a big smile on her face. "Thank you for coming, Data. You can
set your present over on the table beside the cake."
Father comes up just as Data is walking over to the table. He places his arms around my
Mother's waist. I can sense that they are happy and at peace today. The argument over how much
Klingon heritage to teach me has passed.
Within the next few minutes, the rest of my guests arrive. Even Tammy shows up with a
present for me.
"My Mom says I should--I should tell you thank you for--for inviting me," Tammy says,
unable to stand still.
"Okay," I respond, not sure what else to say. I address the whole group, "Let's play skip the
rock!"
Their response is filled with laughter and squeals as every child dashes for the water to find a
suitable rock. The creak is several meters wide and the rocks scattered across its surface will
provide us with questionable footholds. Who will remain standing last?
"I'm rooting for you, dear," Grandma says as she dips her feet, sans shoes, into the water. I
take my time in selecting a starting point as the others are insisting that I hurry up. It's my party,
though, and for once, I feel both the right and the need to take my time. Finally, I see it, my stone
setting away from where the others are standing. I jump onto it, almost losing my footing and the
game before it has even begun.
We walk from rock to rock in a snake-like fashion, one step, two steps, three. Plop, Eddie
falls on his fourth rock. This sends us kids in a fit of giggles as we watch him scramble for dry
land. Once he's out and Alexander has offered him a towel, we resume our game. Around and
around we continue. I begin to fathom that this will go on forever when suddenly Susan screams
and grabs Bradley with her flailing arms, taking him with her.
"That's three down," Tammy exclaims. I sense some of her hostility toward me returning.
As I glance toward Mother, I realize she senses it, too. Yet she mouths "it's okay," to me.
"Think you're going to win, Shannara?"
I try to ignore Tammy, but it is difficult to hide my annoyance. I make an effort to walk in a
different direction from her and end up closer to Hope.
"I forgot to thank you for inviting me, Shannara," the Andorian says.
"You can come to all my parties forever. I'd like it if you were my best friend."
I notice her antennas droop slightly. "I wish that could be so, but my father is being
reassigned. We will be leaving the Enterprise in two weeks."
I cannot believe this! How can I make friends if they leave just as we're beginning to like each
other?
After two steps, Hope realizes I am no longer following her and says, "Hey, don't you know
it's cheating to stay on one rock?" She flips around on one foot, gasps, and loses her balance.
Once she is over her shock, she looks up at me. "Don't let Tammy win."
Tammy and I turn to face each other, both of us glaring. More than anything, I don't want her
to win. She would gloat forever! Yet I don't even look at the rocks as I move toward her. I am
confident. I cannot lose.
She is surprised by my quick advancement, and I sense an animal-like fear in her. "No!" she
screams.
I raise my arms, prepared to push her into the water. Do I care that I am cheating? "Be
gone!" I exclaim as my hands make contact with her chest. Tammy opens her mouth to scream as
she falls off her rock. But she is cut off . I expect a shower and remain dry.
Tammy has vanished.
I stand there, clenching and unclenching my fists as I try to mentally cool down. I am in big
trouble, bigger than I have ever been. I am always the one getting into trouble. I don't immediately
hear the uproar around me, and it is not until father grabs me firmly by the arms that I snap out of
my trance.
"What have you done with your friend?" he demands.
"I don't know," I reply. Do I dare tell him Tammy is no friend? I have never been more afraid
than at this moment, staring up at Father's fierce unforgiving eyes.
Bolting, I skip across the rocks and run along the path with no destination other than to just
get away. I glance back after several strides and am surprised that Father is not chasing after me. I
slow down and search out a climbing tree. Once I find it, I hide on the highest branch that will
support my weight. As my breathing begins to slow, I think about this power consuming me.
How did I use it to make Tammy disappear? Could it also work in keeping someone here? I don't
want Hope to leave! Without her, I have no one who truly understands me.
"Shannara," someone says.
I peer down to find Captain Riker. Why has he come for me and not my father? I am really in
trouble! What if Tammy never comes back?
"I think you better come with me."
*****
I have never seen a conference lounge room. I'm not even sure what the crew does inside one,
but Captain Riker has now ordered me to talk with him in this room. My parents and Alexander
are here along with Commanders Data and La Forge. Mommy clutches at my hand. She offers me
no reassuring smile, no words of comfort; just a hand to let me know she is here for me. We are
waiting for Tammy's parents to arrive. What will I say to them? "Sorry, I sent your daughter
away." That would not take away their grief. It would be better to say nothing.
The door opens and they step inside. I gasp in utter fright as Tammy's father approaches me
and kneels down in front of me. "Please, you have to bring her back!" he begs.
"I don't know how."
"What do you mean? You have to!"
Tammy's mother is too upset to speak. I try to block out her anguish, but it is enormous. I try
to speak, to explain that I didn't mean to dispose of their daughter, but my lips are trembling so
badly that I can only mutter meaningless sounds.
"Please, sit down," the captain says in an even tone. "Commander Data and Commander La
Forge will explain what they believe happened to your daughter, and we will work out a rational
plan to bring her back.
Although Tammy's parents obey the captain, they do not stop staring at me. I cannot look
away from them either. I feel evil. I have done far worse to Tammy than she ever did to me.
I listen to the commanders' report, though there is a great deal of what they are saying that I
don't understand. "We have completed a Level One diagnostics of Holodeck Two and have found
no anomalies and no signs of malfunction," Data says.
"We also found no traces of a transporter device or weapon," La Forge adds. He looks at
Tammy's parents. "So we can rule out kidnapping, at least by any conventional means."
"Then what does that leave?" her father demanded.
"The only other probability we can deduce," Data began, "Is that she was cast out of our
plane or rather out of our universe."
"Which could still constitute some form of kidnapping," Riker observed.
The distraught father stands and pounds his fists on the table. "Is our daughter still alive?" He
points an accusing finger at me. "And is *she* going to pay for what she's done?"
"Please, Mr. Reeve," the captain says, trying to maintain some order.
"Yes, I will," I reply. Oddly, I feel another wave of confidence at this moment. Why in my
time of greatest trouble? I sense both agitation and fear from my parents and wonder why they
haven't spoken.
"Can you bring her back to us?" her father asks of me again.
"No."
"You mean you won't!"
"Mr. Reeve," the captain says, raising his voice slightly. "You must consider the possibility
that even if Shannara is responsible for sending your daughter somewhere else, she may not
realize how she did it and more importantly how to bring Tammy back."
"Is this true, Shannara?" Father asks, finally breaking his icy silence.
"I ordered her to 'be gone' and in the next instant, she was. I'd take it back if I could!" I feel
my confidence slipping away and tears taking its place. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()
![]()