1066: The French Connection

By Vol Tryst and Jariel Camen
100321.2300
After Fixing the Song
-=Paris, France=-

He waited outside the apartment in Paris, listening to the evening music that seemed to float down the streets with the gentle breeze, rather than emanate from any specific place. He had already been through two espresso con pannas and was in no particular hurry for the family to arrive.

With only a few other diners around, this was a rare moment of solitude. No one to counsel, no queries to answer, no friends to speak with. Just Vol Tryst on a quiet Parisian street watching the world drift by rather than swimming desperately to keep up with it.

The waitress stopped at his table, and broke his daydreaming. He lifted her eyes to her face and she smiled politely.

"Une autre?" She asked.

"Non, merci." Vol pushed the espresso cup and saucer away from him with a single finger, the waitress picking it up and smiling before walking away.

Resuming his aimless daydreams, Vol smiled to himself in his moment of solitude. The decision to remain on Earth was the best; it allowed the Counselor a small reprieve so that he might reboot himself and be able to serve at his best. However, as his gaze drifted skyward to the indigo curtain which covered the vast space above, he couldn't help but wonder what was happening on the Sera at this very moment. He found he missed the business somewhat, and the thought even made him chuckle to himself.

"What iz so funny?" Came Fleur's voice from behind him.

“Hmm? Oh, Fleur! Welcome back.” It was not easy to catch a Betazoid by surprise, as fleur just had. Much like non-telepathic species, when a Betazoid was truly lost in thought, they became unaware of what was transpiring around them, with even their telepathic sense being numbed. “Nothing, I was just thinking of how peaceful this place is, yet how I actually miss the daily life on the ship. I am a contradiction in terms.”

“Well, think of it this way,” Jariel said as he set Tress down, and looked up towards the sky. “The ship is probably just cruising around up there with nothing to do. I’m sure the crew is having a grand old time.”

The family had met with Hartcort and Schneider in the early afternoon is San Francisco, but it was nearly ten at night here in Paris. Despite being underneath the Californian sun just a few moments ago, Tress, having been on Paris time, was already yawning and thinking of the song Maman had sung her which she hoped so much to at least see her sing tonight.

“You did not just come for ze nightcap, no?” Fleur asked. “You are wanting to know our decision.”

There were no words exchanged, just glances back and forth between the adults and Gillan Pace. After several moments Vol nodded slowly.

“I understand,” He sensed the worry in each of their souls, and instinctively reached out to hug each member of the family. “Could I ask you something?”

“Of course.” Camen said. He gestured to the table, and the group each began pulling wrought iron chairs away from the table to sit down. The waitress returned upon seeing the newcomers joining the man who had looked far too alone for her tastes.

“Bonsoir. Une boisson pour n’importe qui? A drink for any of you?”

“Thè chaud avec citron, S'il vous plaît? Hot tea with lemon, please?” Jariel asked, then looked at Fleur to see how his pronunciation was. She rocked her hand back and forth to indicate so-so. He had the words correct, however the inflection was off. He was trying though.

The waitress nodded, having gotten enough of it to understand. Fleur ordered a coffee for herself, and a hot chocolate for Tress, to hasten the girl’s impending journey to dreamland. Pace simply asked for an apple juice, for it was the only words he felt confident enough to speak to the waitress without fearing her may butcher them.

The waitress thanked those assembled, and bustled off to prepare their order. Once she was out of earshot, Jariel looked back up at Vol. “So, Counselor, what is it you wished to ask us?”

Vol nodded in affirmation to Jariel's query. His eyes however darted to the children sitting at the table, he licked his lower lip before getting Fleur's attention.

"Do you mind?" Vol leaned forward on the table, motioning a finger to Tress. Fleur understood immediately.

"Oh, but ov courss." Fleur quickly signed to Tress that she would be interpreting for the Counselor. Once he saw that Fleur was ready, Vol began.

"Hello Tress, you remember me?"

Tress signed three letters back with her short fingers. [[V – O – L]]

"Good. Umm... I am going to talk about some things with your parents. It is about your surgery, do you mind if I do so? You are more than welcome to stay of course."

[[Tress stay with V – O – L]], she continued spelling out his name one letter at a time, unsure how to actually “say” Vol.

Vol smiled, in momentary wonderment of what it was to be a child. Once he received his approval, he sighed and laced his hands together, leaning his arms and elbows on the table.

"My first question is about Tress's identity. I believe it's necessary for her, as well as most children her age, to know who they are when they begin entering the world at large. After the surgery, will Tress be a Deaf child who can hear? Or a Hearing child who is deaf?"

Jariel pondered Vol’s question. No matter how well the surgery went, Tress would, assuming it worked, always be truly deaf from a biological standpoint. She would hear only as well as the device functioned, for as long as it functioned, which was hopefully forever.

“When I was unable to speak, I thought of myself as a man with a voice who could not speak. I believe the opposite is true for Tress. No matter how small the device that lets hear is, it will always be the device that lets her hear. The parts of Tress that truly let her process voices and sounds are lost forever. Are you saying it is important for her to know that?” Camen could see the direction Vol was taking.

"I am concerned..." Vol spoke slowly in order to allow Fleur the time she needed to keep up with her interpreting. "...that Tress will feel like she belongs to neither one community or another because of the procedure. I—" Vol bit his lip as he chose his words carefully. "I believe Tress is a perfect the way she is, to change that may suggest that..." Vol ended his attempt to express himself as he realized he was simply reiterating what he had told Fleur at the spa the other day.

Vol sat back in chair, pondering to himself. There was so much about this that rubbed him the wrong way but there was no squashing the possibility that his concerns were unwarranted. Tress may be completely fine after the procedure and have no difficulties regarding her deafness for the rest of her life. It was difficult to draw on his own case studies and experiences, because Vol had learned quickly that one child's reaction could be expected to be replicated in another.

Vol heaved a sigh, looking up to both of the parents.

"Let me just ask this. Do you believe that the procedure is best for Tress, or is it best for you?"

Jariel felt a sting when he comprehended the words asked of him.

"I beg your pardon?"

Vol licked his lips. "She was born Hearing, just like the both of you. Something changed and the both of you have adapted to that change. However, it isn't inconceivable that you may still resent the change, and would do whatever you could to revert back the way things had been."

The statement hung in the air for a moment. Finally, Fleur spoke.

"Counselor, I understand what you are saying, but hearing or deaf, Tress iz our daughter. That will never change."

“I don’t resent the change, but I do resent how it happened. It wasn’t fair, and it wasn’t right. Tress misses her mother’s voice, and she deserves the chance to have it back. Me she can take or leave, but her mother? There is no separating these two.” Jariel laughed.

Jariel noted Pace’s reaction to his use of the words “her mother,” or rather, his lack of a reaction. Pace had not only reached the point where he accepted Fleur as Tress’s mother, but also was so comfortable with the idea that it could be mentioned in casual conversation without him bristling.

“You are awfully quite Pace.” Camen observed.

“I’m just concerned. Concerned something may go wrong; concerned we are slamming a door shut on her forever if we refuse. I just wish I could look a year into the future to know what would happen so we new what to do right now.

“Well, that is a luxury we don’t have but all want.” Camen replied. Indeed he wished he had the ability to see what was to come, but like everyone else was left to fend for himself with nothing more than the experience he had. Experience that, when it came to fathering, was blossoming at best. “So we do the best we can and hope the future will show us we were successful in our endeavors.

Vol drummed his index finger on the table; his right canine tooth was just barely visible as it was biting down on his lower lip. Vol felt that there was not much else he could say, to push the matter further would be irresponsible and may provoke animosity where it was not merited. Still, there was still one more thing he was curious of, and he thought himself foolish for not having the courtesy of asking this before.

"How did the meeting with the Doctors go?"

“They were impressive,” Jariel sighed. “It was hard to find any fault with what they were telling us, which sort of scares me to death my friend.”

"How did they seem?"

Jariel's eyebrows scrunched and he and Fleur exchanged glances. Fleur spoke up, "What do you mean?"

Vol's tongue pushed against the inside of his cheeks, still struggling to find the right words. The effect made Tress giggle.

"There is a theory, that doctors and scientists exercise what is referred to as instrumental reason. It is the desire to discover how the world works, to pursue experiments if only to see if it can be successful. Many great milestones have been reached because of this ambition and I would be a fool to say that I do not owe some of the comforts of my life to this way of thinking.”

"But what instrumental reason lacks is an ethical element. On Earth, in the early 20th century, someone wanted to know if it was possible to manufacture a weapon of mass destruction. The pursuit of it was more or less well intentioned, to see if it could be accomplished. The aftermath, which I'm sure you know, resulted in the Cold War. The ethical problem with creating such a weapon is obvious. Ethical reason poses the question; should it be done.”

"In the case of this endeavor to make Tress hear again, I myself am concerned with the aftermath. If it can be done, if it is successful, it creates a dangerous precedent for those like Tress in the future. Science will never regard those with a hearing impairment the same again, they will be viewed as those with a defect, but with a course of treatment available to them. The idea that someone may want to remain deaf will become preposterous, and..."

Vol trailed off, waving his hand in the air as if he were warding the rest of his rant away.

"I have taken up too much of your time and am rambling on like an idiot about monumental concerns that shouldn't be a part of this discussion."

Vol sighed, then lifted his arms off the table and propping his elbows on his knees as he bent down to look at Tress. The Betazoid spoke slowly, so that she may be able to read his lips more easily.

"Tress, if you want to go through with the procedure, you will hear nothing more but support from..." Vol smiled as a thought came to him. He summoned what he remembered of his USL alphabet and spelled:

[[V-O-L.]]

***********************************************

Lt. Vol Tryst
Ship’s Counselor
USS Serendipity NCC-2012

&

Jariel Camen
Ship’s Chaplain
USS Serendipity NCC-2012