Rise of the Federation: Live by the Code by Christopher L. Bennett Page A
Authors: Christopher L. Bennett
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reminder of his still-estranged son. After a moment, T’Pol diplomatically resumed the earlier conversation. “Doctor, that would have left twenty-nine children and ten spouses. The total number of relationships among thirty-nine individuals taken two at a time would be seven hundred and forty-one.”
“Ah! Yes, well, you have to realize that Vesena’s son Kornob and his three wives had never met Bybix and the two wives he had at the time, since Kornob lives on B’Saari Two and Bybix lives on Tiburon. So that’s twenty-one potential relationships down.”
“So the forty-two romantic ones?” Dani asked.
“Within two tiers of myself, that includes all the marriages among me, my wives, and their other husbands—that’s ten—plus our children’s marriages, of which there were sixteen at the time. Plus the sixteen potential pairings between co-wives or co-husbands, among those who are receptive to such things.” He gave a wry grin. “I’ve always been a bit disappointed that Kovlin is only interested in females, given how Feezal praises his prowess. I wouldn’t have minded trying it for myself. But to each their own, as the humans say.
“And of course,” he went on, “we’ve had several more marriages in the years since then. Let’s see, Filoona married Tresc, Rabb married Dworra Sindar, Rempal married Morren and Dresp, and of course there were Vaneel’s first two husbands and now Pehle completing the triad. And my third wife, Nullim, has had two children since then—Doulin with her second husband and Kronna with her third. And that’s not even counting the grandchildren! Ah, such a blessing to have a large and growing family.” He smiled at Sato. “As I’m sure you’ll discover yourself in due time, Hoshi!”
Sato gave a feeble smile in response. Fortunately, she wasspared from further discussion of her engagement when an early-evening rainstorm broke out. The Denobulans cheered this as an auspicious omen for the impending marriage—not as a superstition, merely an acknowledgment of the vital role the monsoon rains played in sustaining the cycle of life. But out of deference for their offworld guests, they moved the festivities into the open-walled pavilion at the center of the roof. The resultant reshuffling of guests brought Phlox and the Starfleet group in proximity to the bride and groom themselves, and Phlox introduced them to one another with pride.
Vaneel’s fiancé, Pehle Retab, was a tall, robust Antaran man, pale of skin with a high hairline and a set of orbital and frontal ridges whose shape vaguely reminded Sato of the head and horns of an antelope. His long, tan hair was gathered into several tight, intricate braids that jostled one another between his shoulder blades as he moved and spoke with lively energy. Sato continued to approve of Vaneel’s taste in males. “I’m a xenobotanist,” he said to the group. “Once we began to normalize relations with Denobula, I welcomed the chance to come here and study the biosphere—not only the indigenous species, but the way the Denobulans had learned to coexist with them. Our own people have had more difficulty finding a healthy balance with our ecology.”
“Oh, we were far worse than that, my boy.” The speaker was Pehle’s father, Sohon Retab, an older, portlier version of his son with shorter, grayer hair but an impressive, braided beard. “We mismanaged our environment for centuries in the name of easy profit. We made the Denobulans our scapegoats for the mass famines of three centuries ago, but we were at least as much to blame.”
“You’re too kind to our ancestors, Sohon,” Vaneel insisted. “They were the ones who chose to unleash a biologicalweapon against your crops.”
“But they could not have anticipated how little genetic diversity we had in our key crops. They meant only to weaken our war efforts and our economy, but instead whole staple crops were wiped out planetwide, and twenty million died. The only
“Ah! Yes, well, you have to realize that Vesena’s son Kornob and his three wives had never met Bybix and the two wives he had at the time, since Kornob lives on B’Saari Two and Bybix lives on Tiburon. So that’s twenty-one potential relationships down.”
“So the forty-two romantic ones?” Dani asked.
“Within two tiers of myself, that includes all the marriages among me, my wives, and their other husbands—that’s ten—plus our children’s marriages, of which there were sixteen at the time. Plus the sixteen potential pairings between co-wives or co-husbands, among those who are receptive to such things.” He gave a wry grin. “I’ve always been a bit disappointed that Kovlin is only interested in females, given how Feezal praises his prowess. I wouldn’t have minded trying it for myself. But to each their own, as the humans say.
“And of course,” he went on, “we’ve had several more marriages in the years since then. Let’s see, Filoona married Tresc, Rabb married Dworra Sindar, Rempal married Morren and Dresp, and of course there were Vaneel’s first two husbands and now Pehle completing the triad. And my third wife, Nullim, has had two children since then—Doulin with her second husband and Kronna with her third. And that’s not even counting the grandchildren! Ah, such a blessing to have a large and growing family.” He smiled at Sato. “As I’m sure you’ll discover yourself in due time, Hoshi!”
Sato gave a feeble smile in response. Fortunately, she wasspared from further discussion of her engagement when an early-evening rainstorm broke out. The Denobulans cheered this as an auspicious omen for the impending marriage—not as a superstition, merely an acknowledgment of the vital role the monsoon rains played in sustaining the cycle of life. But out of deference for their offworld guests, they moved the festivities into the open-walled pavilion at the center of the roof. The resultant reshuffling of guests brought Phlox and the Starfleet group in proximity to the bride and groom themselves, and Phlox introduced them to one another with pride.
Vaneel’s fiancé, Pehle Retab, was a tall, robust Antaran man, pale of skin with a high hairline and a set of orbital and frontal ridges whose shape vaguely reminded Sato of the head and horns of an antelope. His long, tan hair was gathered into several tight, intricate braids that jostled one another between his shoulder blades as he moved and spoke with lively energy. Sato continued to approve of Vaneel’s taste in males. “I’m a xenobotanist,” he said to the group. “Once we began to normalize relations with Denobula, I welcomed the chance to come here and study the biosphere—not only the indigenous species, but the way the Denobulans had learned to coexist with them. Our own people have had more difficulty finding a healthy balance with our ecology.”
“Oh, we were far worse than that, my boy.” The speaker was Pehle’s father, Sohon Retab, an older, portlier version of his son with shorter, grayer hair but an impressive, braided beard. “We mismanaged our environment for centuries in the name of easy profit. We made the Denobulans our scapegoats for the mass famines of three centuries ago, but we were at least as much to blame.”
“You’re too kind to our ancestors, Sohon,” Vaneel insisted. “They were the ones who chose to unleash a biologicalweapon against your crops.”
“But they could not have anticipated how little genetic diversity we had in our key crops. They meant only to weaken our war efforts and our economy, but instead whole staple crops were wiped out planetwide, and twenty million died. The only
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