What struck her most, as she considered the day’s observations, was how lacking in arable land this planet was. It was astonishing that the population had proliferated as well as it had, considering. Yes, Vanìmel had five primary continental masses and hosts of island chains. Faults, toxic levels of minerals leeching into the water sheds from constantly shifting land plates, and geological instability (such as the volcanoes) made utilizing the planet tricky for sentients like the Yrythny, whose life cycles required both land and water. The degree to which they’d adapted the oceans for their use was a tribute to their cleverness. Yet at some point, Vanìmel’s capacity to sustain life would be maximized.
Adding more modules to Luthia or farming more square kilometers of the oceans would work, but not indefinitely. During their first year, Yrythny hatchlings required thousands of kilometers of open seas. Confined spaces inhibited their maturing processes. Consuming ocean acreage to feed a growing population would only bring another level of complications.
Ezri had caught her first glimpse of “newborn” Yrythny about an hour before, when a school of hatchlings swimming close to the surface had been pointed out to her by Jeshoh. Longer tails and the un differentiated limbs indicated these hatchlings had been in the water only for a short time. He’d explained that during the first year, hatchling respiratory systems gradually matured beyond utilizing gills to extract oxygen from the water, to lungs requiring gaseous oxygen. By the time they came ashore as younglings (as Yrythny in their first five years out of the water were called), the Yrythny were dependent on the atmosphere. Vanìmel’s geography made it difficult. Even with the aquaculture villages, Luthia, and other communities built over the water, dry surfaces were difficult to come by. Maybe she’d been correct in her hypothesis, that indeed, caste customs, especially those related to reproduction, had arisen out of a fragile planet’s needs.
When she noticed the hydrofoil slowing down, she turned to one of her Yrythny escorts for an explanation. He had said simply, “Force field ahead,” and left it at that. Ezri guessed that they might be entering a section of the military reservation. McCallum, Candlewood and Juarez, her companions on this trip, emerged from the lower decks to see what had stopped the hydrofoil. Together, they walked over to the port bow. From there, they had a clear view of multistory towers extending out of the water at kilometer intervals directly in front of them. Signal lights on the top of each tower flashed orange. The lights continued blinking for a moment longer, dimmed, and began flashing blue. The hydrofoil moved forward, between two of the towers, across the waters beyond.
A representative Ezri knew as Lesh approached the four Starfleet officers and indicated that she wanted them to follow her. Ezri found she needed to jog to keep up with Lesh’s bowlegged amble. Thankfully, Lesh was impossible to lose in a crowd, her distinctive mottled brown-yellow striping running from her forehead, beneath her headpiece and down her neck, setting her apart from the others. Color and striping, she knew, unlike the distinctive ridges of the Klingon crest, were not necessarily indicative of an Yrythny’s House affiliation. The real test of a returning hatchling’s identity was the distinctive chemical taste of its skin. Hatchlings with the “wrong” taste were raised in the Houses they came to, but as servants.
A Wanderer, clearing dirty plates off deck tables, had coloring similar to Lesh’s and Ezri wondered, not for the first time, how it would feel if you knew where you were supposed to belong, but were unable to do anything about it. “Can’t you simply send the lost younglings home? If a youngling from House Fnoral swims ashore to House Soid, why not send the lost one back to Fnoral?”she’d asked.
Jeshoh had looked at her like she’d sprouted another head. “Because if they can’t find their way home in the first place, there’s something wrong. Isn’t it compassionate that the Houses take in one that’s not their own instead of casting it back out to sea or killing it?”he’d answered. “A thousand years ago that’s what the
Houses used to do: club to death any hatchling that wasn’t theirs. We’ve come quite a distance from those days, Lieutenant.”
As she watched the servant Yrythny scrape food scraps into the recycler, she wondered if the distance they’d come was as far as Jeshoh believed it to be.
Keren offered no explanations as to their destination. They passed the university, the health sciences center and the Aquaria before arriving in a nearly abandoned cluster of offices; none bore signage. Even the nondescript foyer—beige chairs, pale green carpets and white urns overflowing with flowers—provided little hint as to what the facilities’ purpose might be. A flecked-skinned Yrythny female floated across the floor to greet them. Clasping Keren by the elbows, she said, “Come in, come in, Delegate. So pleased to see you. Your presence blesses us.”
“Mresen.” Keren nodded graciously, interlinking her arms with those of her hostess. She indicated Shar. “My companion, Ensign Thirishar ch’Thane.”
Shar proffered the traditional greeting to Mresen. Her bejeweled skirt and the multicolored braids streaming to her waist marked Mresen as a high-ranking Houseborn. Rarely do Houseborn—even Keren’s colleagues—treat Wanderers so politely,Shar thought, puzzled. A glance at Keren informed him that she expected his surprised reaction.
“A beverage perhaps? Take a seat where you’re comfortable—” Mresen fluttered to an armoire, removed a serving tray from a cupboard. A click of her tongue brought a gaunt but more elaborately dressed Yrythny bearing baskets of braided seed crackers and pollen spread. Mresen poured coriander-scented water into the finger basins when Keren halted her.
“Ensign ch’Thane has come to visit our lost ones,” Keren said, gnawing on a cracker.
Mresen clicked her tongue against her teeth, the skin drooping off her jaw jiggling apologetically. “Of course. You know where to take him.” She reached for Keren’s arm again. “Thank you, Delegate. For honoring us.”
“The honor is mine,” Keren replied, bowing.
When they’d left Mresen, Shar wasted no time in questioning Keren. “She’s Houseborn.”
“She is. House Soid, in fact. Her aide is House Yclen.”
“And yet—”
“There are some aspects of Yrythny life even Houseborn and Wanderer agree on. Here we are—” A door hissed opened onto an arboretum, bordered on all sides by water gushing over fish ladders. They hiked up a carpeted ramp to where two rows of invalid chairs, suspended in the air before the floor-to-ceiling windows, provided their inhabitants an unobstructed view of Vanìmel. Where benches might be, Shar saw biobeds and in each, Shar discerned Yrythny patients. Medical attendants shuffled around efficiently, carrying trays with medication and nutritional supplements. Keren searched the residents’ faces, honing in on one specifically.
“Witan!” she exclaimed, brushing her cheek against the ailing Yrythny’s scaly scalp. Squatting down beside him, she checked out the view. “Are there storms in the archipelago today?”
The gnarled figure, prone in bed, twisted toward Keren’s voice and garbled unintelligibly. The loose patient robes failed to hide the twisted vertebrae, the stump where an arm should have been. Witan’s legs splayed limply on the mattress. Around the room, Shar saw Yrythny in similar physical states in every bed and chair. A few had smooth indentions where eyes should have been. Some lacked legs or arms. Others were attached to biobeds by sensors and life support mechanisms. He understood that Yrythny technology hadn’t yet attained Federation sophistication, but he was curious as to why little had been done to surgically correct the maladies these individuals faced. A VISOR transmitting sensory data to an optic nerve could provide sight. Biosynthetic prostheses could replace deformed bones. Even a vocal synthesizer properly implanted could allow a mute, bedridden patient to communicate. Perhaps we might share some of our medical knowledge with these people, help them ease the suffering of their disabled,Shar thought.