Consequences

by Kari Robinson (karirob@yahoo,com)

This is an amateur publication, and is not intended to infringe on the rights of the Tribune

Company, or any other holders of Earth: Final Conflict copyrights.

Author's note: This was written as a sequel to "The Joining" shortly after I first heard that Kevin Kilner would not be returning for the second season. It represents one suggested resolution to what I see as a serious dramatic problem created by the loss of William Boone at that point in the ongoing story of Taelons and Humans. Regardless of what actually happens in the second season, I still see this as one possible alternative reality for these characters. And as someone once said, there are always alternatives. As always, my thanks to my beta reader, Jan White.

Consequences

Washington D.C. was in the middle of a cold spell. The city which was known for being uncomfortably warm and humid, even in December, was in its third week of cold, dry days. This morning had dawned bright and clear, with stunningly blue skies and a definite snap in the air. The snow which had fallen the previous night sparkled like diamonds in the early morning sunlight.

FBI Special Agent Ronald Sandoval, currently on assignment as attach‚ to the North American Companion, noticed none of this as he sprinted across the Mall towards the Taelon Embassy. He was almost late. Today of all days, he had overslept--something which had not happened since he received his first CVI more than three years ago--and he had been forced to run the last few blocks. He had often tried hinting to Da'an that he should be allowed to move into the Embassy, rather than living in the apartment the Taelons provided for him, but the Companion had never picked up on his implant's meaning, and Sandoval had been reluctant simply to ask outright. But perhaps now he could broach the topic.

Lassiter was waiting for him when he entered the building. He tossed his overcoat at the man and had started up the ramp toward Da'an's audience room when his subordinate's voice reached him. "Agent Sandoval, they're not ready for you yet. Da'an said they would contact me when you could go in."

Startled, Sandoval froze in his tracks. Never before had he been denied access to Da'an, not even when the Companion was in conference with the Synod. For the first time, he felt a tremor of indecision. How had Da'an reacted to the news?

It had been three days since Sandoval had witnessed the disappearance of William Boone from the stasis tank in the Taelon home ship, and he still didn't know exactly what had happened to the big security chief. Boone's unconscious and badly wounded body had been floating in the regeneration fluid in the tank one moment, and was gone in a flash of light the next. Zo'or may have killed him, or cured him, or transported him halfway across the galaxy for all Sandoval knew. And even if his motivational imperative had allowed him to question the Taelon about his strange behavior, he wouldn't have done so. He wasn't the least bit curious about what had happened to the other implant. Boone was finally gone from his life, and that was all Sandoval needed to know.

Almost involuntarily, his mind went back in time to the search they had conducted for Dr. Clark after he had stolen the alpha skrill. Captain Marquette had insisted that Sandoval delay releasing the poison gas until Da'an was informed that Boone was still in the tunnels and would also be killed. His response to her reverberated in his memory with perfect clarity, thanks to his CVI: He knows. He grieves. The lie had come easily--instinctively--to his lips, but he had never actually wondered if the Companion would indeed mourn for his favored implant.

Suddenly, that was a question to which Sandoval desperately wanted an answer.

The audience chamber was absolutely silent as Sandoval walked up the ramp. The first thing he saw was Zo'or who--incredibly--stood at the virtual glass window, apparently studying the view. The Taelon turned gracefully and smiled at Sandoval as he entered the chamber. It had never been a smile which Sandoval particularly enjoyed seeing, even at the best of times, and this was certainly not the best of times. He drew no comfort from it now. Nevertheless, he bowed deeply to Zo'or before he turned to address his own Companion.

And received a surprise which shook him to his core. Da'an was seated in his chair, but had completely dropped his human body and clothing. The deep blue of his real form was punctuated by flashes of light--lighter blue, red, and a deep purple--in a pattern of bright colors and rapid movement that Sandoval hadn't seen before in any Taelon.

Da'an stood as the implant approached the chair and Sandoval received a second shock. Gone was the inviting demeanor which had attracted so many humans to him in the past. The overall impression was of a very alien, very powerful, very unhappy being. For the first time, the almost overwhelming love that Sandoval experienced whenever he was in Da'an's presence was tinged with a slight tremor of fear.

"Agent Sandoval," he began, even his voice sounding different to the nervous implant, "Zo'or has

told me, in exquisite detail, of your service to him over the past few months. Such devotion is rare, even in an implant. You are to be commended."

Sandoval released the breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. "Thank you, Da'an. It is always my joy to serve you." He hoped that Da'an--who was more adept at picking up human nuances than most Taelons--would hear the slight emphasis on the 'you' and would release him from his assignment to Zo'or. He glanced over at the other Taelon for an instant and found Zo'or watching him with a slight smirk on his face.

"Of course. But you have contributed to the events of the past week in ways which transcend normal service. You should be rewarded."

"My greatest reward would be to continue to serve you." Surely Da'an must understand the intent

of that statement.

"And you shall do so. The Synod has determined that the functions performed by," he paused

slightly, "Commander Boone will now be divided between two people. Based on the quality of your recent service, you will assume the position of Chief of Interspecies Relations vacated by the," this time the pause was longer, "death of Commander Boone. Agent Lassiter will be implanted and will become Chief of Security."

Relief flooded him as be bowed to his Companion. "Thank you, Da'an. I am honored by the trust

the Synod has placed in me."

"As well you should be." Zo'or finally spoke. "William Boone's failure to capture and destroy

Ha'gel immediately could have seriously endangered the lives of all Taelons, both here and on the home world. We expect no such failures from you."

Da'an spoke again, before Sandoval had an opportunity to respond. "In addition, the Synod has agreed that the Chief of Interspecies Relations should no longer be located in the middle of the continent, but rather at a location where representatives of all Earth's nations regularly meet. Accordingly, you are to move immediately to New York City, where you will report to the Synod through Zo'or."

For just an instant, Sandoval wished that the Earth could open up and swallow him. He drew himself to his full height and bowed to the motionless Companion. "I am honored to serve in this capacity, Da'an. How often shall I return here to report directly to you?"

The Companion regarded him silently for a long moment, his expression--without his human face--completely unreadable to the implant. "You shall not. As I said, Zo'or has told me of all your service to him. It is my wish never to see you again, and the Synod has granted me this request. Good day, Agent Sandoval."

Stunned, the implant simply stood rooted to the spot until he heard Zo'or's voice calling for him to

follow. Sandoval moved quickly down the ramp behind his new master. He dared one look backward at the Taelon he worshiped, and was rewarded with a last glimpse of Da'an, still in his natural state, standing alone in front of the large window, looking out at the Capitol building.

~~~~~~~~~~

William Boone drifted upward toward consciousness and slowly started to become aware of physical sensations. He seemed to be floating on something which supported all parts of his body. Almost involuntarily, he took a tentative breath and discovered that the blazing pain in his side was gone. Cautiously, he took another breath--a bit deeper this time--and found that the pain still didn't cut through him. Encouraged by the lack of pain, he took a chance and tried wiggling his toes. Feeling the movement of the sheet against his skin, he relaxed. He had avoided his worst nightmare yet again. With a small sigh of relief, he settled back and relaxed into the softness which supported him, content to drift in the comfort.

The next thing he became aware of--some indeterminate amount of time later--was the soft touch

of a cool hand on his forehead. The contact electrified and soothed him at the same time, and he

basked in the sensation. Only a few times before had he felt a hand so cool or so smooth, but this

one couldn't belong to the same person. Or could it? Perhaps he should open an eye and take a look.

Before he could translate that thought into action, a soft voice spoke directly into his ear. "Boone?"

"Da'an." His voice was so faint, really only a whisper. It didn't even sound like his voice. He

must be much weaker than he realized.

Da'an stroked his brow. "Do not speak, Boone. You came perilously close to death, and although you have survived, you are still extremely weak. You must conserve your strength for your recovery. Sleep now. I will be here when you wake."

And he was. Twice more Boone drifted up to consciousness, only to hear Da'an's voice make soft, soothing noises and urge him back to sleep.

The third time he awoke to feel the Taelon's hand holding his in a loose grasp. Boone summoned his strength and opened his eyes. What he saw was his Companion sitting next to him, slumped in his chair with his eyes closed, looking rather like a wilted flower. Boone mentally cleared his throat and spoke aloud. "You look tired."

What in the world was wrong with his voice? He could understand the raspy quality; he'd bet he'd been unconscious for quite some time, probably breathing oxygen through his mouth for at least part of it. but the pitch sounded wrong too. Higher somehow.

Da'an blushed blue under his implant's unwavering gaze. "I am not fatigued, Boone. I am, however, quite gratified that you have been returned to us. That you have done so is due in large part to the actions of Dr. Miranda Carmichael."

Boone's gaze drifted upward to include the woman standing behind the Companion. A striking

brunette, she looked vaguely like someone he should recognize, but just couldn't seem to place. He made the familiar mental twist necessary to use his CVI to recall the information which eluded him, but nothing happened. Alarmed, he blurted out, "My CVI . . ."

Da'an and Dr. Carmichael exchanged looks, and the physician spoke. "Your implant is not working at the moment, Commander. But you are in no danger from its malfunction. We will explain everything soon, I promise. Right now my main concern is to get your blood pressure up a few more points so you can sit up without passing out."

She leaned over and pressed a hypospray to his neck. "That should do the trick. I'll be back in a

few minutes to see how it's working. In the meantime, perhaps our Companion will fill you in on some of the news you have missed. And, Commander, it's critical that you not speak above a whisper. Your voice box and vocal cords were both seriously damaged by your injuries and if you speak before they're completely healed, you could lose your voice permanently."

The doctor moved out of his range of view, so he shifted his gaze back to Da'an and raised an eyebrow. Da'an took the silent hint and began to fill him in on some of the world events which had transpired since his injury.

Some time later--he seemed to have lost his time sense as well--the physician came back into his

field of view and appeared to study something over his head. Whatever she saw seemed to please her, for she nodded at Da'an.

The Companion, who was still holding Boone's hand, reached with his other hand to smooth Boone's hair off his forehead. "Boone . . ." He paused, clearly hesitant. "William . . . Some of what we are about to tell you will seem fantastic to you. You may not believe it at first. I ask only that trust me. Everything I will tell you is true."

Suddenly apprehensive, Boone nodded mutely, his grip on Da'an's hand tightening. Some part of

his mind recognized that this was highly unusual, but he was beginning to get the distinct impression that something was very wrong and he found the pressure of his Companion's fingers strangely comforting.

Apparently satisfied, the Companion regarded him for a long moment before speaking. "May I presume that the last thing you remember is your battle with Ha'gel?" At Boone's nod, he continued. "You were severely injured by a blast from his shaqarava and nearly killed. Fortunately, Dr. Belman instructed Captain Marquette to transport you to the primary Taelon/Human medical facility in San Francisco. Eh'lan, a Taelon scientist you have not met, has been working there with Dr. Carmichael since Ne'eg's death, and they both found your condition sufficiently severe that they requested you be moved immediately to the home ship where you could be placed in a regeneration chamber for treatment."

He paused, turning his head slightly to the left and blushing blue, both of which Boone had learned to recognize as indicative of unpleasant emotion. He squeezed the Companion's hand lightly in encouragement as Da'an continued with his narrative. "I was unhappy with the arrangement. As you know, there are some among my people who do not agree that it is important to maintain the lives of individual Humans. I was . . . concerned that you might be in some danger."

"I had been aware of the growing antipathy between you and Zo'or for some time." Da'an looked reprovingly at Boone. "You did not bother to hide your disregard for him, and that is something he will not tolerate. It was only a matter of time before he struck out at you in retribution." He looked down at their clasped hands, and when he spoke again his voice had dropped in volume. "In addition, harming you would have the added attractiveness of injuring me as well, something which Zo'or could not resist."

Da'an looked away from his implant. "Some months ago, I contacted Dr. Carmichael and asked

her to undertake a special project for me. After some discussion, she agreed."

The human physician took over the narrative. "As you may know, I've had some success with the cloning of human tissue for organ replacement. For about a year prior to Da'an's request, I had been working with Ne'eg on processes which I thought might improve our skills and success rates in that area. When Da'an came to me, he informed me that the Taelons have had the capability of cloning humans for some time and had simply not told us. He asked me to clone you." She began to pace. "I won't go back through all the moral and ethical arguments I raised--you can probably come up with all of them. Suffice it to say that--rightly or wrongly--he convinced me of the need. Using their techniques, I cloned you from a tissue sample Da'an provided."

Stunned, Boone shifted his gaze to the human physician; she smiled slightly and nodded reassuringly at him. "With Taelon techniques, we have been able to speed up the rate at which a cloned body develops. This is your own body, Commander. It was ready for you two months ago, and has been waiting for you in stasis since then."

Da'an spoke again. "This body has not yet been implanted with a CVI. That is why you could not

access it earlier. We will implant you again when you are stronger."

Now that was something that would have to be dealt with. But there was something else Boone

wanted to know first. "How?"

"Remember, Boone, we Taelons are composed of energy. So is the Human mind. I carried your

shree-kaa within me for several days." He looked at Boone out of the corner of his eye, as if he was unsure of what Boone's reaction would be.

It took several moments for the full impact of that statement to sink in. Astounded by the implications, but elated at the same time, Boone smiled at his Companion. "Thank you, Da'an," he whispered. "You've saved my life yet again." Damnation!

His frustration must have shown on his face, because Dr. Carmichael touched Da'an's shoulder

and nodded in Boone's direction. When the Companion didn't respond, she spoke. "There's one other thing you should know, Commander. For security reasons, I altered your appearance by making a genetic change in the nucleus of the initial cell." She took a deep breath and answered the question that must be showing clearly on his face. "Specifically, in layman's terms, I changed your Y chromosome to an X. This body is female."

Stunned, Boone looked from the doctor to the Taelon, who stared back at him with an obvious

air of calm that Boone found more than a little infuriating. "It was necessary, Boone. This way we can 'hide you in plain sight', as the Human saying goes. You will be safe."

Boone tore his eyes away from Da'an's face, and looked down at their clasped hands. Slowly he

released his grip on his friend and held his right hand up. The hand in front of him was smaller than his own, almost delicate in appearance, with long, slender fingers. He slowly folded his fingers around to make a fist, and watched as the woman's hand did the same. His gaze slid away from the strange hand up to the doctor's face. Expressionless, she stared silently back at him and nodded slowly.

His gaze drifted back to the stranger's hands, turning them so that he could look first at the backs,

then the palms. There was no skrill on the right arm. It occurred to him then that they looked rather like Sarah's hands, and he noticed that they were beginning to tremble slightly. Very slowly, with a mounting feeling of dread, he allowed his gaze to drift upward. There was no mistaking the shape under the sheet. It was the truth. This was a woman's body.

Shock. He must be in shock. This total absence of any feeling must be the numbness that nature provided to humans to help them begin healing after a trauma. That must be why he could turn his head and look directly into Da'an's eyes and feel absolutely no emotion at all.

Da'an was looking at him oddly. "Boone? Are you well?" He reached to take the human's hand again.

The sound of his Companion's voice jolted Boone out of his daze, and he snatched his hand away

from the Taelon's. The look he turned on Da'an was almost a weapon. "I suppose this was your idea?" Well, at least this voice had a pleasant timbre to it.

The Companion blushed slightly and tilted his head in confusion. "As I said, this change is

necessary for your safety. We cannot allow Zo'or to know that you have survived."

"And so you simply decided--on your own--to change my basic identity?" The icy bitterness in his voice surprised even him. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillows. "I'm awfully tired now. I think I'd better rest for a while."

He remained in that position, silent and motionless, through the small sounds of Da'an rising from

his chair, a whispered conversation, and finally the sound of the door closing. He continued to listen as someone came back into the room and moved to stand by the side of his bed.

"Commander."

He opened his eyes to see Dr. Carmichael frowning down at him.

"That was cruel."

Boone sat up slowly. "And changing an integral part of my identity--without any warning, I might add--wasn't? How could you have done this?"

She motioned for him to move over and sat down on the side of the bed. "I tried to explain it to him, Commander. Believe me, I tried." She sighed heavily. "But Taelons are androgynous. Da'an simply has no frame of reference for understanding how important gender is to our sense of self. And he was desperate to save your life." She gave him a long, hard look. "I had been under the impression that the Companions are not capable of strong emotion. But judging by his actions, I'd say that you are extremely important to Da'an. Perhaps you should take that into consideration."

Boone stared at his hands clasped in his lap for a few moments before raising his eyes to meet hers. "I don't know how to be a woman. I don't even know if I can."

She grinned at him. "Oh, it's easy. It just takes a bit of practice. I'll help you."

His grin was more than a bit strained, but it was a grin. "Well, it's not as if I have much choice in

the matter." Amazingly, he felt laughter bubbling up within him. "So I guess the first thing I

should do is pick a new name."

~~~~~~~~~~

Six weeks later, Da'an was reclining in his chair in the audience chamber replenishing himself in an energy stream, when he sensed the presence of his head of security, David Lassiter. He sat up and addressed the implant. "Yes, Agent Lassiter?"

"Please forgive the intrusion, Da'an, but there is a Dr. Carmichael wishing to contact you. She

says it's urgent."

Da'an dismissed the implant and opened a datastream. "Dr. Carmichael."

The physician smiled at him. "Good morning, Da'an. I'm sorry to disturb you so early in the day, but a certain young lady of my acquaintance has asked me to request an appointment with you for her."

The surge of emotion he experienced at her words was quite unexpected, and the Companion went perfectly still for just an instant while he composed himself. "This young lady . . . Is she well?"

"Quite well. And most anxious to meet with you, if you will allow it."

"I will come to your location shortly." Rising from his chair, Da'an closed the datastream and opened another one. "Agent Lassiter. Cancel my appointments for the rest of the day, and have Captain Marquette ready the shuttle immediately." He waved the datastream closed before the implant could reply, and moved with undignified speed toward the shuttle bay.

Less than twenty minutes after their conversation ended, Miranda Carmichael opened the front

door of her house to find the North American Companion standing there. "My goodness, that was fast." She stepped back to allow him room. "Please come in."

"Where is Boone?"

Miranda allowed herself a moment to study the being standing before her. The Companion's appearance was changed significantly from what it had been when they first met ten months ago.

Back then, they had been approximately the same height--she had been able to look the Taelon in the eye--and if asked, she would have said that her overall impression was of a feminine, slightly frail being.

But now . . . The being standing in her hall was nothing if not sturdy. He was taller than before, perhaps a few inches over six feet. His shoulders were broader than she remembered, his waist thicker, and his hips more narrow. This time, Da'an definitely struck her as male. Idly, she wondered if such alterations were the norm for Taelons.

Finally she answered him. "In the other room actually, making some travel arrangements." She smiled gently. "I understand you like gardens." At his nod she continued, "Why don't you wait in my rose garden while I go tell her you're here."

Da'an was staring at--but not quite seeing--a bank of beautiful salmon-colored roses when he sensed someone come up from behind to stand next to him. When he turned to look at his companion she continued to stare straight ahead, hands clasped in front of her, as if to give him a chance to examine her. She was tall for a human woman, and very slender. Her dark red hair was short and framed her face with curls. She finally turned to look at him, and he was relieved to see that her eyes were the same clear dark green ones he remembered so fondly. When she smiled up at him, he felt control of his human facade begin to slip.

"Boone . . ." he began.

She raised her hand to stop him. "Erin. Erin Delaney." She grinned. "Like it?"

The Taelon considered the question for a moment. "Does it reflect your ancestry in any way?"

"Well, Erin was my great-grandmother's name, but I picked Delaney just because I liked the

sound of it."

"Then I concur with your choice."

"You are in an agreeable mood today." The smile left her face and she rested her hand on his arm. "But before we discuss anything else, Da'an, I must apologize to you for my behavior. The last time we spoke I was horrible to you. Please forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive. You had just received an enormous shock--a much more serious one than I recognized at the time. I have been studying this aspect of Human psychology since our last discussion, and I have come to realize I was wrong not to consult you."

They stared at each other for a long moment before Da'an raised the issue which had been occupying his thoughts as he waited for her. "When I arrived, Dr. Carmichael said that you were making travel arrangements. Are you not returning with me to Washington?"

"Not right away. I'm going to travel around the world for a while, working as a news photographer. Miranda's husband Ian is a photographer and he helped me obtain the credentials I will need."

"Photographer?"

She laughed at his confusion. "Actually, I've always been pretty good with a camera. Remember the pictures of Kate I had in my office? I took all of those."

"Why? For how long?"

"Several months at least. I am recovering, Da'an, but I'm not through this yet. I need more time

to deal with this change. I'm getting comfortable in this body, but it still feels odd to me much of the time. And I'm still male in my dreams." She sighed. "I won't be any good to you until I can accept this change at the very core of my being."

Da'an blushed slightly as hope swept through him. "Then you do mean to return to Companion

service? As an implant?"

Erin smiled. "I do intend to return, to your service. But I will not accept another CVI. Never

again."

"Not even if the CVI is exactly like your last one?"

Her look of surprise was most gratifying. "How long have you known?"

"I had suspected that something was wrong for some time; your behavior was highly unusual for an implant. My suspicions were confirmed shortly after the incident with the cyberviral infection of our systems. By that time, however, I had come to trust you completely, and your lack of a motivational imperative seemed inconsequential." He looked at her out of the corner of his eyes. "It had also occurred to me that this could potentially be an asset for us."

"I have never intentionally betrayed your trust--I always acted in accordance with what I saw as

the best interests of both our peoples. But I must know the whole truth about why your people are here."

“You will eventually. But for now . . ."

She interrupted him. "For now I have a plane to catch. And I'm sure Sandoval is chomping at the bit to get you back to Washington."

"Agent Sandoval is no longer assigned to me, at my request."

"But, Da'an, he'd do anything to protect you. You know that as well as I do. Get him back."

"Agent Sandoval had been assisting Zo'or with his plots to harm the Human race--and you—for some time, and he was present when Zo'or destroyed your body. I do not wish to look upon him again."

"Please, Da'an, get him back. If I can't be here to protect you myself, I'll sleep better knowing Sandoval is on the job."

"This is important to you?"

Erin smiled. "Very."

The Taelon regarded her seriously. "Very well. I shall request that the Synod reassign him to my

service."

"Good." She reached up to gently touch the side of his face. "I will be back, Da'an. I promise you that. In the meantime, keep your eye on the news." She winked at him, much to his dismay. "You never know where I'll turn up."

With that she turned and walked away, leaving him alone, surrounded by the roses.