“Isn’t that a reason to leave them alone, then?” Riker asked. “Let them develop their own technology in their own direction, instead of using ours?”

Vale glared. “I hate it when you play devil’s advocate.” Taking a slow breath, she went on. “Of course that’s what we should do. Hell, something tells me they wouldn’t tolerate anything else. But that doesn’t mean we can’t… keep them in the loop. We could recommend that the Federation open diplomatic relations. Just the occasional visit. With slipstream drive, that should be more feasible in a few years. And not just for the squales’ benefit. We could learn a lot from them about biotechnology, medicine…”

“Hmm, something tells me they wouldn’t take too well to the Federation’s policy against genetic engineering.”

“It never hurts to have a contrasting opinion. And like the Denobulans and Choblik, they seem to have adjusted to their enhancements pretty well.”

Riker studied her. “You’ve really come around, haven’t you?”

“Well, I didn’t have the chance for as much close contact with them as you did. They are an impressive bunch of people.” She lowered her head. “Especially for not blaming us for what happened.”

“Hey. Don’t blame yourself, Christine. You made a mistake, but you went above and beyond to fix it. The squales see that, and so do I.” He clapped her shoulder. “You did a fine job, Commander.”

“Thank you, sir.” She frowned. “Although wouldn’t ‘below and beyond’ be more accurate here…?”

EPILOGUE

HVOV MEMORIAL HOSPITAL, PLANET LUMBU

Nurse Mawson was glad to see things getting back to normal at the hospital. Not only was Administrator Ruddle due back from her rest cure soon, but the city was growing calmer with the war fears dying down. The Cafmor had done a fine job in the last round of debates, restating her position in the finest, most elegant traditional forms and thereby undermining the Kumpen challenge to her victory. Many Kumpen were crying foul, insisting that she had been coached, but the Cafmor had proven a subtler point: by making the same argument in traditional rhetorical structure that she had in more informal words, she had implicitly demonstrated that the form was irrelevant, undermining the Regent’s position enough that a majority of voters in both countries had declared the Cafmor victorious. So Lirht was safe now, and so was Kump, for what would the Lirhten want with that arid, mountainous waste anyway? All they had there were dilithium crystals, and what good were those?

And then there was the other thing. But Mawson and her fellow maternity nurses had little to say about that. And those who’d chosen to speak of it had soon learned there was little gain in doing so, for the government, the press, and the public were satisfied to chalk it up to mass hysteria, the people’s fear of a looming war manifesting in visions of spirits and monsters. Mawson and her nurses knew better, but they were content to communicate it in knowing looks and shared laughter. In years to come, they might get together and speak of it in reminiscence, maybe privately debate the true origin of the giant men and women and the scaled monster with the hands of a surgeon. For now, they were content to absorb the experience in their own thoughts. For Mawson, it had reaffirmed a faith she had begun to question in these uncertain times, this age of electricity and factories and motor carriages, when nature and the spirit world seemed more distant than they had in her childhood. Now she had confirmation that the spirits were there, and that they had children and loved and protected them just as people did. That reassured her, inspired her to put more passion into her work. But she also knew that the spirits had their own lives to lead, that people could not rely on them to interfere in mortal affairs—that it was up to people themselves to find their own solutions to their wars and plagues and so forth. That the only guidance the spirits could offer was by example. But these spirits had proven to set a fine example—after a rocky start, to be sure, but imminent childbirth tended to do that to people.

As Mawson left the hospital for the night, she looked up at the stars and wondered if the giant baby and her mother were happy.

DROPLET, STARDATE 58590.2

The capsule ascended on a pillar of wind.

Borne aloft on a thermal by huge, transparent balloons—related to the weather-balloon creatures and bred specifically for this purpose—the fairy-castle rocketship rose toward the tenuous reaches of the sky. When it had risen as far as it could go, a spark from its supercharged nervous system would fire its rockets, sending it…

Well, not far,Will Riker thought as he watched its ascent. The squales were nowhere near far enough along to get into orbit, since it had been less than two weeks since they’d begun the project, even if their ability to build on ancient knowledge accelerated the program considerably. This was merely a propulsion test, but it was a historic enough event that Riker had accepted the squales’ invitation to remain at Droplet until after the launch.

“Lovely weather for it,” Deanna said, and he lowered his eyes from the diminishing speck of the capsule to gaze upon her. She lounged beside him on a floater-islet beach, while Natasha Miana Riker-Troi nursed at her breast.

He smiled. “Beautiful scenery indeed.”

“Oh, you.”

“I just wish it could last.” He stroked Tasha’s head, but she remained focused on slaking her appetite. “We came so close to losing each other.”

“We have before,” Deanna told him. “And we will again. But we have a good crew, and I have faith that they’ll always bring us back together. Back to this…the three of us.”