CHAPTER VII. THE LOGIC OF THE HEART

«Doctor, I really don’t think I am, in any way, shape or capacity,  even remotely suitable  to talk to Commander Dax nor Dr. Kahn about their love lives. As far as I am concerned, I have already done more than enough…»

Ferrari and Dr. Bashir were seated at one of the Promenade‘s tables, with two half-full cups of Raktajino in front of them, accompanied by some traditional Bajoran pastries previously unknown to the woman, who had found herself appreciating them, despite the fact that in some cases they had totally different – and unexpected – flavours from what she was used to.

They had met almost by chance that morning, despite the fact that Bashir had confessed to her his wish to contact her once his shift in the Infirmary was over – the doctor had almost missed her entirely, considering that Ferrari had come down to the station later than usual, having been forced to attend her first meeting with the command staff. Dr. Kahn, in fact, had returned so furious from her own chat with Jadzia that even her brother, who had been discharged that very evening and had been waiting for her to return, had not ventured to approach her, preferring instead to go to his assigned quarters in the base housing area. He would return to Sickbay for a further check-up in the afternoon, but otherwise should have no further problems.

«Apart from the fact that I’m a pilot, not Cupid,» the woman continued, «I think the situation should be handled by you, Doctor, or someone equally close to the two women, not by me. My intervention was already something of a stretch the first time, now it would be seen as an interference, and I would be risking if not a court martial, then something similar or very close. Considering,» she added, emptying her cup in front of her, «that I have just been promoted, as you can plainly see, I would prefer to avoid it.»

Bashir leaned back in his seat sighing,, even though he already knew he could not lean on the woman any further to try and settle the situation: if he had managed to pull her into it the first time by virtue of the leading role she had played during the rescue of the passenger transport, on this occasion she had no reason to get involved in a situation that did not concern her.

He shook his head, thoughtful: «I will admit that while this is a situation I never expected to have to face. I’m surprised at Jadzia’s reaction: in the past, she has never questioned whether or not she was influenced by her symbiont, not even when, a couple of years ago, she left the station to fulfil an old blood pact that Curzon, Dax’s previous host, had made with some Klingons, following the death of their first-born sons.»

«Doctor, we have already once broached the subject of Trill customs,» Ferrari observed, «and your advice was to leave Trill culture to the Trills, considering that it would be difficult to be able to satisfactorily answer some of their taboos.» Bashir nodded: he remembered that conversation, albeit he only contributed briefly, before he persuaded her to intervene with Jadzia at Quark’s . Ferrari continued: «All things considered, Doctor, the question I asked you at the time is the same one I’m asking you now: how can we be sure that Commander Dax’s emotions are not purely of the person Jadzia, not influenced by her symbiont’s previous memories? Of course,» she raised a hand to call out to one of the waiters, to whom she asked for soda, to wash down the strong taste of the Raktajino they had served her, «one can always make a way to endanger the two lives and, in this way, momentarily separate the two entities, as was done with Lenara and Kahn, but I seriously doubt it is a recommended procedure.»

The soda arrived at that moment and Bashir waited for the waiter, a usually very chatty Bolian, to go off to get new orders and serve other tables, before replying: «I remember we touched on the subject, Lieutenant. And my words are the same as they were then: I cannot give you a satisfactory answer, because I don’t have one. Although I am acknowledged to be highly competent in the field of Trill physiology, I am not so well versed in the questions more closely related to the relationship between symbiont and host, nor how the host’s brain chemistry changes.»

«What does it matter, factually? Does it change the feelings felt by Commander Dax? Does it change Dr. Kahn’s feelings? Is it really so necessary that, in order for Dax to be safe, there must be a trauma equal to that experienced by Kahn? I don’t think so, Doctor. If you must know, I believe that, even in the case of your colleague, the symbiont may have had a negligible influence, precisely because the host is strong enough not to allow such a situation. But, – she added, before Bashir could intrude, – all this I cannot tell the person concerned.»

Both of them left the table, having finished their breakfast and being on the doorstep of the morning shift. Ferrari went a little way with Bashir, as she had to go to one of the hologram rooms at Quark’s: she had set aside a couple of hours to devote herself to a whole series of programmes which, in the preceding days, she had had the opportunity to learn about and go over with Worf.

«I’ll leave you here, Doctor.» Ferrari began, in front of Quark’s Bar, «Keep me updated on developments. I will, however, make sure to stop by the Infirmary before returning to duty, to coincide with the departure of the Europa scheduled in a few days’ time.»

*

Once in Sickbay, Bashir found a nervous Jadzia Dax waiting for him: if possible, the woman was even paler and tighter than the last time they had seen each other, the day before, and seemed not to have slept a wink during the night. And so, Julian found himself thinking, it was up to him to do the thankless task of making her see reason. And to think that, once upon a time, he would have done anything to get a similar reaction from her.

«Jadzia,» he called her, by way of greeting, «What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be on duty?»

Dax jerked – she hadn’t heard him coming, engrossed as she was in her own thoughts – and delayed her own reply by a fraction: «I asked for the day off, Benjamin granted it to me without objecting much. Listen,» she continued, «I need to ask you a very big favour.» Bashir bent his head slightly to the side, curious: «What can I help you with?»

Jadzia took a deep, almost shuddering breath before asking, all in one breath: «I need you to find a way, possibly safely, to inhibit my symbiont for a few hours. I… I need to understand something that would otherwise be impossible for me to comprehend.»

Bashir gave her a look that bordered on the scandalised: «I hope you’re joking, Jadzia. Mark my words: there is no remotely safe way to do such a thing. And,» he added, preventing the woman from intruding, «if you’re going to tell me that Lenara was, briefly, separated from Kahn… believe me, I’m the best person to tell you that that was not safe and that I was forced to do it only because every other conventional treatment wouldn’t have succeeded. That was a calculated risk, a risk that would have weighed on my conscience if it had failed.»

The very fact, however, that she had found the courage to ask him such a thing, according to Bashir, denoted such desperation that she was willing to risk anything in order to remove the doubts that now gripped her deep inside.

For a moment Jadzia merely stared at him, as if she had not heard what had just been said, then, defeated, she slumped against the wall, face in her hands and sobs shaking her shoulders. Gently, Bashir sat beside her, hugging her and somehow trying to console her. He didn’t say a word: during his studies at the Academy, he had been able to take some specific courses in psychology, useful for his career as a councillor, so he knew how to behave in certain situations. Moreover, he knew Jadzia: he knew when it was appropriate to goad her and when to let her off the hook before saying anything.

Finally Jadzia seemed to calm down enough to stand up straight, leaning fully against the wall behind her, allowing Bashir to hazard a question: «This is about Dr. Kahn, isn’t it?» After a moment, which seemed to the doctor to be never-ending, Trill replied with a nod: «When you and Lieutenant Ferrari,» she gave him a questioning look, to check that she had not made a mistake, «left our table, at Quark’s, Lenara asked me to go somewhere quieter to talk, ‘secluded’ I would say.» She took a deep breath, then continued: «We went to my quarters, despite the fact that I had suggested other, probably more ‘suitable’ places to her, considering everything. She… declared her feelings to me. In a way that caught me off guard.»

Bashir took a few moments: «Jadzia, whatever way Lenara declared herself to you, I don’t think suspending contact with the symbiont even momentarily will help you resolve the issue.»

«Julian… it is Lenara who has those feelings, her symbiote has nothing to do with it.»

«And you,» he told her in a tone somewhere between question and statement, «are afraid that your own feelings are less true, possibly influenced by Dax.»

Jadzia barely nodded, her head still leaning against the wall behind her, her eyes closed. Neither of them noticed that Lenara, leaning against the same wall but in the next room where she was an inpatient, was listening to the exchange of banter.

«You know, it’s ironic,» Bashir observed, «but this talk has been coming up a lot lately. Yes,» he smiled at the questioning look Jadzia gave him, «You see, it just came up with Lieutenant Ferrari, who wondered what the significance of having a symbiont was. We discussed how one could be sure that the host was influenced by the symbiont. Of course, she first admitted that she didn’t understand much about Trill culture and your physiology, especially about the relationship a host has with its symbiont, but it got me thinking.»

«About what?» Jadzia was genuinely curious: Bashir was, by necessity, one of the most knowledgeable on the subject, despite not being a Trill, precisely by virtue of the fact that he had found himself dealing with Jadzia herself and her symbiont on several occasions.

«About you. You are an incredibly strong-willed and talented woman. It’s also the reason why you went through the whole rigmarole to become a possible host and why you were assigned Dax, despite the fact that Curzon had removed you from the programme. If you hadn’t shown tremendous willpower, Jadzia, not only would you not have gotten Dax, but you wouldn’t have even finished the programme: you wouldn’t have been picked up at all, regardless of the fact that Curzon had removed you for personal reasons.»

Bashir smiled at her: «Assuming and not conceding that Dax had an influence on you, Jadzia, I don’t believe that the feelings you had are any less true or any less yours. I know you, and I know how you think, your feelings are yours, there’s no doubting that. And nothing can ever make them less so.»

Lenara inhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a moment: the slap she had given Jadzia stung her more than the other Trill. She looked at the hand with which she had made that gesture and regretted using it. Jadzia’s suffering was no different from what she had felt only a few days before: Lenara did not want to betray her own culture, Jadzia did not want to betray herself. But by continuing to chase each other without finding each other, they were betraying the love they felt for each other. She decided to step through the door separating the two rooms, ready to do whatever it would take to convince Jadzia, even though she thought, with all her heart, that a single embrace would be enough to solve everything. She took a first step, then was stopped by another voice.

«Lieutenant, what happened to you?» Eva Ferrari had appeared at the door of Sickbay, before an astonished Bashir and an uncaring Dax. The woman, harnessed in training vestments for one of a variety of Klingon martial disciplines, limped forward a few paces clutching her right shoulder with her hand, her arm dangling down her side: the Klingon training must have taken a rather spirited turn.

With a grimace of pain, Ferrari replied: «On the fourth attempt I managed to land Fek’lhr, but I think I dislocated my shoulder.»

At the word ‘Fek’lhr’ Jadzia, still leaning against the wall, looked up at the Lieutenant, with a glimmer of interest in her eyes, asking in a hushed voice, «One of Worf’s programs?»

As Bashir checked her limb with a medical tricorder, Ferrari replied to Dax – also now standing by the duo’s side: «Yes, the one about rescuing some soul from the Gre’thor.»

It was only at that moment that Ferrari realised she had interrupted something between the two officers: Dax still had a vaguely distant look on her face, despite her interest in the Klingon programme, and Bashir had left the stack of PADDs with the night shift reports still untouched on his office desk. She backed off: «I think I can solve the problem by myself, after all: all things considered, I’m not in such a dire situation, I’m sure I can make it to Europa Sickbay…»

Was it that the Doctor was finally talking to the Trill to try and smooth over the sentimental complications from which she so ardently wanted to stay out?

Bashir looked quizzically at Jadzia. Implicitly he was asking her if he could talk to her about the situation, even though in reality Ferrari herself knew as much about it as they did: Dax waved him on.

«I need to have you laid out on a biobed, Lieutenant, and the shoulder isn’t the only thing that needs treating.» Trying to support her without touching her aching limb, Bashir escorted her towards the door to the recovery area. But before the sensor made it open he stopped, suddenly aware that Lenara was on the other side: «On second thought,» he said, «I might as well give you the first treatment here.»

Ferrari protested slightly and Bashir tried, with just a glance, to make her understand what they were both getting themselves into: were they really ready for the two Trills to meet?

Ferrari gained one of the chairs in front of the doctor’s desk and, while waiting for the latter to adjust a hypospray, launched into an uncomfortable question: «Commander Dax, were you able to clarify with Dr. Kahn?»

«That is precisely what we were talking about,» Julian interjected, «Though we had not reached a conclusion, yet.»

«I take it that things didn’t go well…» In addition to the practical and decisive nature, the pain in her shoulder made Ferrari rather blunt. Not that, usually, the woman was less direct… generally, though, she used more tact. Or, at least, she tried to be tactful.

«The problem here, Lieutenant,» Dax walked from the wall and wiped away the last of her tears with the palm of his hands, «Is that Dr. Kahn has discovered that she loves me, sure that she has not been influenced by her symbiont,» Jadzia paced slowly and grimly, almost menacingly, «Which, as far as I am concerned, I cannot vouch for myself.»

Dr. Bashir, having injected a painkiller into Ferrari’s shoulder, was preparing to make a drastic manoeuvre that would put the joint back in place.

«I really don’t understand this reasoning, Commander.»

«Lieutenant!» Bashir half-whispered her back, speaking close to her ear: «Try to be tactful, if you can.»

Ferrari looked at him crookedly and, in response, got a sudden rotation of her arm and a worrying clatter of jarring bones: she gritted her teeth, that the pain, though dulled by the drugs, was still there, to the point that a few tears escaped from the side of her eyes.

«Done!.» – Bashir looked particularly pleased with himself – «The rest of the treatment can be finished, later.»

Ferrari held his breath for a few seconds. Jadzia, meanwhile, had moved closer to the two, to the point where she found herself facing the other woman and not so much further away than Bashir: «What don’t you understand, Lieutenant?»

«I do not understand the importance you Trills give to who feels what and who does not.» Ferrari made to get up from her chair, but the Doctor kept her seated: despite everything, despite the safety protocols activated in all holosuites by regulation, the woman seemed to have walked into a steamroller. That didn’t stop her from proceeding: «You boast of the perfect blend of memories from so many lifetimes, of respect for the will of the host and the uniqueness of each of you, but I have seen people, Trill, change tastes, learn to do new things overnight, and forget others since receiving a symbiont.»

Dax and Bashir exchanged a puzzled look, and the doctor released his grip on the Lieutenant, who took the opportunity to rise to her feet, despite her exertion and pain, but continued to speak: «I don’t care if all this is right or wrong, it’s your culture, it’s fine. But then you should accept that feelings can also be altered, that the love you are talking about between you and Dr. Kahn can indiscriminately come from Lenara, from Jadzia, but also from Kahn or Dax.»

Jadzia tried to protest, «But…», but Ferrari wouldn’t let her speak – when it was too much, it was too much. «Celebrate it instead of opposing it. You both have the good fortune to feel it for each other, and your symbionts agree… or say nothing… I mean, it’s fine. You have already risked losing everything once. Don’t make the same mistake again.»

At that moment, the doors to the medical area opened: Ferrari looked up, attracted by the sliding of the doors, and Bashir turned as well. Jadzia was the last to turn towards the entrance and the first to meet Lenara Kahn’s eyes.