Epilogue

“Darya, I’m so sorry I’m late,” said Tyvan, as he hustled into his office and tossed a pile of datadisks onto his desk before dropping into his chair. “I just couldn’t tear myself away from medical. It’s good luck we put in for repairs at Starbase 12 because there’s a child trauma specialist here working with that Naxeran boy, Pahl. So I stayed on, watched her work a bit and time passed and…why are you laughing?”

“Because it’s nice that even psychiatrists have problems. Anyway, it’s fine.”

“Then I’ll stop apologizing. You’re looking good, by the way.”

In the past, Bat-Levi would’ve felt self-conscious, as if Tyvan were trying to compensate in some oblique way for the very obvious fact that she didn’t lookvery good at all. But now Bat-Levi smiled. “Thanks. I feelgood. I think I know why.”

“Oh?”

“It was having to come front and center. When the captain made me XO, I didn’t have the luxury of worrying about what how I looked or what people thought every time I gave an order, or had to make a decision.”

“To put it bluntly, all eyes were on you.”

“And then some.” Bat-Levi exhaled a half-laugh. “It’s very strange how you said I wanted people to notice me but in a negative way. I was so angry with you, but you were right. I kept telling myself that I just wanted to be left alone, but the way I am…” She made a helpless gesture. “I can’t help but attract notice.”

“Do you know why?”

“Yeah. I think it’s something like, as bad as you feel, I feel ten times worse. And I just dare you to make something of it.”

Tyvan folded his hands over his lap. “And now?”

The left side of Bat-Levi’s mouth tugged into a wry grimace. “There are a lot of times I’d still rather hide in a closet than get out there and be with people. But when push comes to shove, it seems that here,at least…” She used her left hand—the one without nails—to gesture in an all-inclusive way. “On thisship, with thiscaptain and thiscrew, it doesn’t matter what I look like. What matters is that I do my job, and if I fail or succeed, it will be because of the way and how well, or poorly I do that job. How I look has nothing to do with it.”

“And when did you come to this conclusion?”

“Honestly?” and then Bat-Levi laughed again. “That’s dumb. Like I’m going to lie, right? When I was on the bridge, and the captain asked me what the hell I was doing, and when Kodell pissed me off.”

“Kodell was provocative?”

“Sort of. Not overtly, but he nagged me, and that made me mad. In retrospect, I understand now that he was pushing me to take a chance…hell, to do something downright dangerous.” Bat-Levi’s gaze skittered away, to a spot on the floor. “Kind of a dare, like, come on, it’s up to you, are you up for it, or not?”

“So you took the dare. Why?”

Because I like him, a lot.Aware, suddenly, that she felt uncharacteristically warm, Bat-Levi shook her head, shrugged. Gave a small, embarrassed laugh. She directed her answer to the floor. “I don’t know.”

“I don’t believe you.”

He might as well have said he’d caught her out. She knew she was blushing— reallyblushing—but this time she met those brown eyes square on. “There are some things I want to keep private for now, even—or maybe especially—from you. It’s not that I’m angry, but…remember when you’re a kid and you discover something for the first time? Part of you is just busting with wanting to tell someone, but another private part wants to keep the secret either because you don’t quite believe it, or it just feels good to have something that’s totally yours and doesn’t belong to anyone else.”

“A delicious secret.”

Relieved, she nodded. “So we’ll just leave it at that about Kodell, okay?”

“Fair enough.” Tyvan laced his fingers over his middle, slouched down, and put out his long, slender legs. “And what about the captain? What happened with her?”

Bat-Levi smiled at the memory. “She got on the horn, told me to back off.”

“And you didn’t.”

“I knew I was right. No, that’s not quite true. I thoughtI was right, and the rest of the bridge crew—even Castillo, who probably thought I was certifiable—they did what I said.”

“Well, you could say they’re just professionals doing their jobs.”

“Which they wouldn’t if they didn’t have faith,” said Bat-Levi, “especially if the XO didn’t have faith in herself. You’re on the bridge, you can tell these things. So I was right there, up front where Kodell essentially told me I had to be. We make it, we don’t—it’s my call. No place to hide, no one else to blame and…”

Bat-Levi halted then. A wave of sadness washed over her, and she half-expected Tyvan to ask her what she was thinking, but he let the silence go. Bat-Levi shifted, crossed her right leg over her left, kept her eyes averted. (Another part of her mind remarked on the fact that Tyvan hadn’t commented on the obvious, but she ignored it for the time being. Maybe he’d notice, maybe he wouldn’t.)

Then Bat-Levi said, as if she hadn’t fallen silent, “And then I realized that I didn’t make Joshua’s choices for him. He’d made them. I told him not to go down into the pod, but he did it anyway and it was the wrong decision to make, and he died.”

Now her eyes sought Tyvan’s. Held. “Just like the captain and me. She argued, and then she got behind me, and I did what I thought was right. Kodell told me I had to make a decision, and I did. It was my decision, not his. Mine. If I made a mistake, there wouldn’t be anyone to blame but me. Oh, the captain might blame herself for putting me in charge, but she had faith that I’d make the right decisions. I just had to have faith in me.”

Tyvan gave her a frank look. “There’s only one thing I take issue with. You said Joshua made the wrongdecision, but it’s like I’ve always said. We have choices, but sometimes we don’t like the ones we have. So Joshua made adecision, Darya. You’ll never know if it was the wrong one because you’ll never know the alternative. Perhaps, in the end, his choice was best for you.”

Bat-Levi was silent. What could she say when she knew he was right? In the quiet, she heard the tick-tock of the pendulum clock, and she suddenly realized something.

“It’s been five sessions,” she said. “You’re supposed to make a recommendation now, aren’t you? About my being on probation?”

“I already have. In fact, I’ve given it to the captain, though I doubt she’s had much time to read it.”

She felt an unpleasant jolt of surprise and then wariness. My God, she’d been absolutely awfulto the man for the majority of their time together: a basket case, she thought grimly, and then considered that would be an expression she ought to quiz Glemoor about, if she got the chance. She watched as Tyvan twisted around in his chair, rummaged around a pile of datadisks, and then tweezed out one between his thumb and forefinger.

He offered it to Bat-Levi. “Would you like to read it?”

Her anxiety fluttered in her throat, like a trapped bird. “Why don’t you just tell me?”

“All right. I’ve recommended no further treatment or evaluation, and I’ve recommended that you stay on.”

Shock made Bat-Levi’s mouth drop. “But, but I missed sessions, I yelled…”

Tyvan held up a hand. “First of all, we’ve been kind of busy. Second, you made a choice. You took responsibility, and you told me where to get off. Good for you. I don’t need you to agree with me, Darya. I’m glad you feel better, but I don’t needyou to feel better, nor do I need you to have an operation, fix your scars, get a new face, pony up for the latest prostheses, or do anything you don’t want to do. All I want is for you to know whatyou’re doing, and why,and the rest is up to you, because it’s your life, Darya, not mine.”