Fur and Fathers

Chapter Twenty

“I am glad.”  Shiránnor smiled at them the next morning when they joined her at breakfast and told her their decision.  “But you must realize that the men and women who are chosen for the ceremony will dwell apart from today until the Tenth Hour.  They will be separated soon.  And in the meantime, although I have no doubt that it will prove no more than a formality, because you have not gone through the preliminary examinations I would suggest that you consult the First Among Healers.  She has come down with Hoshi, and I spoke with her but now.”  She turned her head and politely asked Vetherahi to fetch Grenyal.

“Is Hoshi okay?” asked Trip eagerly.  “And the baby?”

“Both are well.  You must meet the Small One as soon as possible, seeing that you are her ah’exi.”

“‘Ah’exi.’ ” Jathior was also present, and seeing the two Starfleet officers look blank she grinned and obligingly repeated the word more slowly so that they could hear it correctly.  “It is a very ancient Venel custom.  If a chick’s father dies when it is still in the egg, his lord is the first man to lay hand on the hatchling.  By so doing he takes on him the responsibility for the child’s welfare thereafter.  By touching Ag-nes in the way you did, you made her your ah’exa by Venel law.”

“I did?”  He could feel a delighted grin spreading itself over his face.  “So what exactly does that mean?  Do you know?”

The Singer shook her head.  “You would have to speak with one of the Lawmasters for that.  I know little more than I have already told you.  But I think you have a right to be consulted when her marriage is arranged, and you must be satisfied that her future husband is of appropriate status.”

“It is to be hoped that her mother has no objection to your unexpected elevation,” said T'Pol drily.

“Aw, Hosh’ knows me and Malcolm were buddies.  She’ll be fine.”  A slightly graver look superseded the grin.  “I didn’t mean it to happen, but … hell, I’m real glad it did.  It makes what I feel kinda … ‘official.’ ”

“On Kerriel it is very official.  Once you leave, of course, you may have difficulty establishing your claim.”  Jathior’s tongue peeped out.

“Nope.  I’ll put Hoshi straight on that right away.  Priestess Shiránnor says so and that’s good enough for me.”  He crossed his arms and elevated his chin loftily.  “I’m an official, fully-paid-up, card-carryin’ … whatever it is.”

“That will certainly sound very convincing to the authorities.”  There was a certain amount of irony in his wife’s remark, a fact which did not escape him.  Living with him had, for some mysterious reason, caused her sense of humor to develop.  Occasionally this was not exactly an advantage.

“Who could imagine any court rejecting so eloquent a plea?” Jathior’s tongue came even further out.

“Am I the only one thinkin’ I’m bein’ picked on around here?” Trip asked Shiránnor plaintively.

“You may be the only one thinking it is not appropriate.”  Her tongue came out too.

A tap at the door at that moment heralded Grenyal’s fortuitous arrival.  The First Among Healers bowed politely to Shiránnor and nodded to Jathior and the two other visitors.

“You summoned me, First Priestess.”

“Indeed.  Thank you for coming so promptly.  I know you are busy, so I will be brief.  The matter is this: T'Pol and Trip here have accepted my offer to allow them to participate in the Tenth Hour.  I thought it best that you examine them beforehand, since this is part of the normal procedure.”

“You have no objection to this?” The dark amber eyes turned to them with nothing but professional interest.

“I guess… if it’s necessary.”  He took his wife’s hand comfortingly in his.  The turn of the conversation had taken the laughter out of the situation, but they had to face this together.  “Do we have to go somewhere private?”  It was a rhetorical question – it was probably pretty unethical to expect visitors to strip off in front of everyone while they were still finishing breakfast, or at least he hoped it was.  Kerriel admittedly had some strange customs, but surely that wasn’t done even here.

“There is no need.  Sit quietly, and I can see all that I need.”

To his surprise, Grenyal simply padded to within a little less than a meter of the divan where they were seated, couched down, closed her eyes and became completely motionless.

He glanced at Shiránnor, lifting his eyebrows.  She nodded quietly.  He sat perfectly still, feeling nervous, but he felt absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.  T'Pol’s hand lay unmoving in his, though he felt the rigidity of their entwined fingers.

After a moment or two the Healer opened her eyes again and looked at her superior.  “First Priestess, may I speak with these two in a room apart?”

Trip hardly heard permission being given to use the Audience Chamber.  His whole heart had contracted into a terrified knot.  She’s gonna say it can’t be done, that we’re not suitable.  I’ve talked T'Pol into this for nothing.  I should’a kept my mouth shut.

Somehow he made himself stand, and the two of them followed Grenyal into another room, slightly larger, which was bare of furniture save for a low dais with another divan on it, this covered with beautifully marked pelts.

“Please sit.”  The Healer nodded towards the divan.  “There is no-one to see and be offended.”

Her examination evidently hadn’t been thorough enough to notice that Vulcans are strict vegetarians and have Views about hides, thought Trip.  T'Pol moved the pelts carefully from the portion she intended to sit on.  He himself hadn’t the attention to spare; he just plumped down on the lot, grateful to take the strain off his knees, which had begun to tremble slightly.

Grenyal stood before them, looking seriously from one to the other.

“In my official capacity as Healer, I am disqualifying you from taking part in the ceremony.  It would be pointless.”

The blow was horrifying.  For a moment he couldn’t deal with it.  After all the heart-searching, they weren’t to be allowed to do it anyway!  He forced speech into this throat.

“I’m sure you’re entitled to do that, but would you mind explainin’ exactly why it’s pointless?”

“I have every intention of doing so.  To take part in the ceremony would be superfluous,” her grave expression suddenly took on a glint of momentarily inexplicable humor, “given the fact that your wife is already pregnant.”

He thought he was hearing things.  He just sat there, gaping at her.  It was just as well he was sitting down, because the shaking in his knees had just got a whole lot worse.

“Would you mind repeating that?” T'Pol found her voice first.  He could tell she was trying to be calm, to be Vulcan, but she wasn’t succeeding very well.

“You are pregnant.  Or, to be accurate, your body contains a fertilized egg which is about to implant.  I see no reason whatsoever why it should not do so successfully, but to be absolutely sure I recommend that you avoid all unnecessary exercise and stress for the next couple of days.  I will monitor your condition hourly until the pregnancy is safely established.  This is exactly what I would expect to see after a Tenth Hour has taken place, and I perceive no reason why this should not be just as successful.”  She gazed enquiringly at their stunned faces.  “There is some reason why you are so surprised?”

“Well … we….”  They hadn’t even suspected it could happen outside of a laboratory.  Even inside one it had taken some effort and a great deal of expertise to bring it about.  Furthermore, what with one thing and another they hadn’t got around to making love for several days now.  Except…

… in a waterfall?

Oh, if this gets out they are gonna be soooo mad.  They’d probably think it’s worse than doin’ it in a church.

“Are you absolutely certain?” The tremor in his wife’s voice sounded like she was praying to a God that Vulcans didn’t believe in that the answer was going to be in the affirmative.

 “Yes.  Perfectly.”  A lifted eyebrow rather like one of her own said that the First Among Healers wasn’t used to having her diagnoses questioned.

“It’s just that we didn’t think it was possible.”  Trip didn’t want the Skair to think his wife was being unreasonably skeptical.

An airy wave of the tail dismissed any argument.  “It must have been possible, because it has happened.  There is no doubt whatsoever.”

She’s pregnant.  She’s pregnant!  We’re gonna have a baby!  The tidal wave of joy swamped his initial dismay over the unorthodox arena of operations during conception.  Hadn’t Shiránnor herself taken his clothes off and pushed him into the water?

Looks like another miracle for St Trip, said a distant British voice in his head, laughing.

You better believe it, buddy!  He turned his head to meet his wife’s eyes, and saw in them the identical incredulous joy, coupled with an instinctive apprehension that would not be fully allayed until they received confirmation from Hath’s medic, who would probably not be overjoyed to find he had another pregnant alien to look after.  In their shared white space he picked her up and whirled her around, laughing, incredulous, delighted beyond words.

“You know, you are gonna be so damned beautiful when you’re fat.”

“I am relieved that one of us will be of that opinion.”

He put one arm around her shoulders.  He was suddenly scared almost to touch her, scared that one wrong move would somehow knock that precious egg off course and break both their hearts all over again.  With a feeling of terrified exhilaration he put his free hand on her stomach, his touch lighter than a feather.  “You behave yourself in there, okay?  Your momma and I are gonna look after you.”  Then he kissed her, and the hot tears ran from between his closed lids whether he wanted them to or not.

*               *               *

“In cub already?”  The First Priestess’s jaw dropped.

“There is no doubt of it.”  Grenyal poured herself a cup of wine from the stone flask on a side-table and drank it gratefully.  It was early in the morning for such strong stuff, but she felt justified in saluting the news with something rather stronger than water.  “The egg has not implanted yet, but it will be simple enough to keep watch to make sure that nothing goes amiss, and indeed I see no reason why anything should.”  A wry glance at the astonished First.  “It seems that the Goddess was indeed capable of sending us a message about eleven couples taking part in the Tenth Hour.  Though it was probably not the one Jerhazy expected!”

“No, indeed.  It was certainly not the one that I expected either!  Who can predict Her actions?  May She be always praised!” Shiránnor exploded into laughter.  It was by the grace of the Goddess that Jerhazy had been so preoccupied with making sure that the Shrine was put back to rights after the chaos of the birth that she had not left it for some time – by which point Trip and T'Pol were sitting innocently side by side and fully clad in the Cave of the Waterfall.  And it was just as well that she had disgustedly stopped checking his memories at the point where he left the Inner Shrine, or she would surely have burst with pious outrage.

“I am not sure how Jerhazy would feel about people honouring the Goddess in Her very Shrine!” The Healer had had far too much experience with the stages of pregnancy not to have put two and two together regarding the time of conception, and she joined Shiránnor in guffawing.  “She might think it was taking worship too far – much too far!”

“They honoured the Goddess in the Shrine?” Jathior’s jaw dropped too.

“In the Holy Fall itself!” Shiránnor confirmed, beaming with unrepentant glee.

“O, Mother of Stars!” The First Among Singers almost went into convulsions at the idea of how the ultra-conservative priestess would react if she ever discovered that.  Fortunately she herself was not nearly so easily shocked.  Another thought occurred to her, and she gurgled, “And what if Horlath found out?”

“Or practically anyone else either!”  The First was almost weeping with laughter by now.  “But at least it means they will be comforted when I tell them there will only be ten couples at the ceremony after all!”

“So the sky will remain in place.  The Mother has made Her will known, and Tradition continues on its way unchanged.” Grenyal shook her head solemnly.  The effect was spoiled somewhat when she burst out laughing again and gasped, “I only trust She may not have started another one!”