THE ANNIVERSARY WALTZ
PART FOUR
The exhibition of Ketarcha Prime artefacts attracted the attention of most Academy cadets as well as the teaching staff, and those at Starfleet Command. Housed in a special suite, the centrepiece of the exhibition stood in a small room about the same size as the darkened underground room in which Chakotay found the Primos Urn. He had created with the help of Rojan, his most trusted student and helper, the same conditions, and only the natural glow of the urn threw any sort of light in the room.
It did look aloof and distant, yet welcoming and warm at the same time, according to Rojan, who had acted as if he were the sole owner and benefactor of the exhibition. His eyes had already adjusted to the darkness whenever he stepped into the special room where only the Primos Urn stood. Most of the visitors were back in their classes or offices, with only one or two still lounging about. He'd have to wait until they have left before he could secure the place and enjoy the wonders of the holosuites.
Kathryn Janeway waited till the traffic subsided before she made her first visit to the exhibition suite. She hadn't deliberately avoided Chakotay, but kept busy most of the time they had been setting up the artefacts. She just didn't want to see him while he was still settling in with Annika. These days they were peripheral friends, and colleagues. While Annika Hansen was never proprietorial, her unconscious bearing was something that excluded the intrusion of others whenever they were together.
Business was getting prepared for the dance, then they could get on with their lives. This time, Kathryn was calling an official halt to the annual celebration. It was time it stopped. The only pressing thing was rehearsing for the dance. They were due for their practice session at 1700 at the Academy's holosuites, and she had programmed Luca and Loraine Baricchi as the dancers who took them through their paces. She had gone back to Paris to collect her dress and had been hugged by Raoul when she fitted on the completed garment, now with its glitter of rhinestones all over the bodice.
She thought of Chakotay again. He had only hailed her on her vid-com to announce their arrival in San Francisco. He had looked somewhat strained, but was friendly as he had always been towards her in the last three years. Their old friendship, the camaraderie, the intense satisfaction of knowing he was around was something that had to be stored away somewhere permanent. Their communication was short, just the normal arrangements for the anniversary bash. She understood. He was calling her from their apartment and no doubt Annika Hansen was with him. She thought how strange it was that they could never get back on the same footing they had been for so many years on Voyager. She just couldn't bring herself to appropriate Chakotay's time and demand the status quo. She had been too shocked three years ago, and the minute she recovered from her shock, had rallied and labeled it as an opportunity lost. What she felt, her love that still at times made her wake up in a sweat in the middle of the night, was irrelevant.
She gave a little sigh as she walked around, studied the pieces, then slowly made her way towards the Urn Room.
"I will be locking up shortly," a voice from the dark depths spoke.
"You must be Rojan," Kathryn said, her eyes immediately drawn to the urn in the middle of the room.
In the dark she could see the young man, and he stared at her for several seconds. Kathryn gave a little smile. Perhaps her rank was unfamiliar to him, though a number of admirals had already been on their first visits to the exhibition.
"Admiral...Admiral - "
"Janeway. Kathryn Janeway."
It wasn't that she ignored Rojan, but her attention was fixed on the object that seemed to beckon her. It reached for her with eager moving fingers, calling her forward, inviting her to touch it. She edged closer, and was about to touch the urn when Rojan's hand covered hers instantly.
"It is protected by a forcefield, Admiral Janeway."
"I know. It's just irresistible to want to touch it..." she said reflectively.
"You're not the first to have that desire, Admiral."
Kathryn smiled as she disobeyed his warning and held her palm close to the urn, careful not to touch the forcefield. She sucked in her breath. The urn was beautiful; it reminded her of ancient Earth artefacts. The figures - one couple in long flowing robes depicted in different poses - were caught in movement, or rather moments, it seemed to her.. It fascinated her and when she felt a slight vibration against her hand, she gasped and drew her hand quickly away from the urn.
"Admiral, did your fingers touch the forcefield?" Rojan asked, concern in his voice.
Kathryn was absolutely certain that she hadn't touched it, yet it felt to her as if the figures wanted to communicate with her, wanted to tell her of some old, ancient ritual of Ketarcha Prime. She had read up the planet's ancient civilisation and cultures, but this surprised her.
"It moved..." she whispered, a little stunned. "It moved..."
"Admiral, you must be imagining it," Rojan suggested. "I can't see any movement."
"No, I can assure you it did - "
"I thought Admirals didn't believe in myths." Kathryn cast him a sharp glance.
"You don't understand. My fingers weren't close enough to the forcefield to activate it. I - I'm certain I felt the images move."t;
"Do you know the myth of the Urn of Primos, Admiral?" Rojan asked and Kathryn nodded, too mute to answer him, her eyes still drawn to the object in front of her. It became even more luminous the moment she had come closer to it, as if it responded to her or her body heat or, as improbable as it sounded, to her emotions.
"I've read the brochures. It said only that the Goddess of Virtue danced with a warrior in her attempt to bring about peace on Ketarcha Prime, eight thousand years ago."
"Admiral, you mean you haven't heard?"
"Heard what? This is my first visit here. I...haven't been very attentive, I must admit."
"There's a myth surrounding the urn. It says that when two persons of the same heart look at it, the figures will start to move into dance."
Kathryn was tempted to tell Rojan the idea was ludicrous, but her own reaction to the artefact and the way it seemed to radiate the closer she came to it... She wasn't certain anymore. She was a scientist; what she saw went beyond scientific belief.
"Of the same heart?"
"Professor Chakotay dismissed the idea too, Admiral, though he was the first one to tell me that there is always truth in myth. That was when he was still searching for the Primos Urn."
"You're saying I don't believe you?"
"I think - "
"Can't you see the radiance is stronger the moment I bring my hand closer? And I can tell you now, Rojan, it's not the forcefield emanating those signals. I know what I'm talking about..." She had no more words as she absorbed the strange power of the urn, allowing it to become familiar within her. What signs it portended she guarded intimately, for they were meant for her, she believed. It was an ancient myth of another culture, yet she felt an attachment as if she were Ketarchan, or Mesopotamian, or a priestess of the Ancient Oracles of Drugara. She was all of them and she was Kathryn Janeway, a scientist who was sceptical about myth and the mystical power of objects.
They were both silent for a few minutes, pondering on what happened. Rojan still appeared a little sceptical, although Kathryn could put her scientific mind aside and accept what she experienced. So she said, as if to emphasise her belief, "Something has happened, and the urn radiates more light in here..."
"Then I must tell you there must be some connection, Admiral. It is an emotional connection rather a tactile one?"
"Yes," she admitted softly, her heart still beating erratically. "It's wanting to tell me something..." Again she felt the urn beckon her, drawing her closer and closer. The figures looked lonely, cast in the silence of thousands of years, caught in a timeless moment. Something must set it into motion. Two hearts... Rojan looked at her keenly for several seconds, his mouth opening then closing as if something dawned on him and he wanted to say something, then changed his mind. Kathryn picked up the vibe instantly. The young man stared at her as if...
"What is it, Rojan? You look as if you've just seen the Goddess of Virtue..." Rojan was quiet so long that she touched his arm in a reassuring gesture. "It's okay. I'll not coerce you into revealing anything..."
Then Rojan, comforted by her words, found his voice again. "I have to tell you that they haven't danced yet, Admiral, although many couples have come in here..."
"That surely doesn't mean anything...it would be a bad day for business if couples failed the 'test'," she responded.
"Perhaps, Admiral. Then again, all who had been here before you know it is waiting." The young student was all of a sudden very enigmatic when he spoke again. It was in his voice, in the way he smiled, in the way his eyes locked with hers and held her gaze. "The Urn of Primos is waiting..."
"Waiting?" she asked, as if she didn't sense the answer already. "For what, Rojan?"
"For the two hearts that will make it come alive."
Kathryn nodded again solemnly, the spell broken when she stepped away towards the entrance of the room. Her eyes had become accustomed to the dark almost the moment had stepped into the room, and the glow from the urn waned the further she moved away from it. Then she realised belatedly that the young Ketarchan student was about to lock up anyway, and she greeted him before making her exit from the Exhibition Suite. Her heart was full of the wonder of what she experienced, yet it left her also sad as she walked back to her office. The sky had turned grey, though not storm clouds that formed, but rather an overall dreary-like colour that she realised, suited her mood. She was deeply melancholy, thinking of Chakotay and of the lonely Goddess and her warrior waiting to come to life.
********************
"And you say you have found the one?"
Rojan nodded. The Ketarchan High Priest's eyes looked alert, although he was already more than one hundred and fifty years old. His pointed ears pricked constantly. Rojan could hardly contain his own excitement.
"I believe she is the one, Excellency. The urn trembled at her nearness."
"You have not told her anything about our Goddess of Virtue?"
"No more than what she knows already."
"Then she does not know that she is the embodiment of our Goddess?"
"I think she may suspect something, Excellency, although she said it in jest. I am afraid I must have given away much by my surprise. The Urn is responding to her emotions."
"But the real test must still be. It is the reason we have given Professor Chakotay permission to take the urn to Earth and to other homeworlds, so that our search for our Goddess can begin. There is no one on Ketarcha Prime."
"I know that, Excellency. I also believe that Professor Chakotay must be the completion of the Unification."
The old priest closed his eyes and when he looked at Rojan again, there was intense joy emanating from him.
"He does not know that?"
"I do not think that he is considering that possibility, Excellency. He already has a mate - "
" - but his heart is waiting."
"Yes, Excellency."
"Do not inform Professor Chakotay of anything yet, Rojan. He must discover the completion of his heart himself."
"Although I think, Excellency, that Professor Chakotay already knows."
"It shall be his test too, good Rojan. Encourage Admiral Janeway to visit the Exhibition again..."
Rojan smiled. It was getting very, very interesting. He was extremely keen to know how all of what must still happen that would affect a few Earthlings. He didn't think it would be any trouble encouraging the Admiral to come again. She had a mystical connection to the urn. Professor Chakotay's own mate, Annika Hansen, had already handled the urn and she didn't seem in any way attached to the artefact. No, it was not meant for Annika Hansen, even though she had done the work of securing the urn.
"Yes, Excellency. I think Admiral Janeway is finding her bond to the urn overpowering. She will be unable to stay away from the exhibition. I may not need to encourage her. I expect to see her here again tomorrow...."
"That is good. You have done well, Rojan."
"I thank you, Excellency."
A moment later Rojan sat back in his chair, still a little astounded at what he had discovered. They had not told Professor Chakotay of their mission. Knowing that it had to be as natural as possible without creating a flood of hopefuls, the inclusion of the urn as the primary attraction of the exhibition was mainly for them to find the one person who could make the Goddess of Virtue come to life. If the Professor knew, he would have become obsessed at finding someone who was far away from Earth. The mirror to his soul was right there, in full view of the Professor. It would have to happen as naturally as possible, otherwise... Rojan sighed with great contentment. No one, except the High Priest of Ketarcha knew what would happen. Even he didn't know much. The figures would dance, but how?
***********
"Computer, end programme."
In an instant Luca and Loraine Baricchi disappeared and the holosuite looked again cold with its yellow-grey grid. Kathryn gathered up her bag and towel and headed for the door of the holosuite.
"Kathryn..."
She gave an inward sigh. Chakotay looked unhappy, although the session had gone well. They had all their lines for the dance well memorised and practiced them for two solid hours, with Luca and Loraine patiently guiding, admonishing, then heaping praise when she had Chakotay completed three rounds without missing a step or losing their timing. They had been playing several waltzes in a continuous track and the music had somehow calmed her inside so that she didn't notice Chakotay's broad chest, feel his heartbeat quicken against her, or the way his fingers gripped her hand. She smiled, inclined her head, moved gracefully.
Now, his voice sounded urgent, even lost. So she turned round to face him, her movement deliberate that he know he was holding her up.
"What is it, Chakotay?"
"We never talk, you know," it rushed from him.
"What should we talk about?" she asked, using the towel to dab her neck. He came closer to her, reaching with both hands in some entreaty. When she didn't respond to his gesture, his arms slumped to his sides.
"We were friends, once, Kathryn."
"And that qualifies for open-hearted sharing now, three years later?"
She knew she sounded shrewish, but the image of Seven of Nine's face when she entered Chakotay's office and saw them kissing... It rocked her up hard. They had both succumbed to the temptation of touch and it was wrong...
"What happened to the camaraderie we had, Kathryn?"
"Why don't you add to that the odd visits to my quarters or your quarters, or the evening talks over coffee, or you massaging my aching muscles, or - "
"Kathryn, please..."
"It's no longer there, Chakotay. You made a choice three years ago. I - "
"I know what you feel. It was there, in our kiss last year. You can't deny it." He stood closer to her.
"Back off, Chakotay. In three days we will dance, for the last time. I'll make that announcement. It serves no purpose anymore."
"That's it? You see this as a chore? Not something we enjoyed every year, even last year? Kathryn, please... It's - it's all I have...to - to make a memory for another year..."
She stepped closer to him and touched his cheek. It was a gentle touch, and Kathryn felt him lean against her palm. She wanted to cry, knew that her eyes were moist. A lump formed in her throat. She swallowed hard.
"A memory..."
"Yes..." he said softly, closing his eyes.
"It's all I have, you know. Making a memory of our waltz..." A flash of a photo-album, nine photographs... Mariah Henley's warm, shy smile...
"I was a fool..."
Did her heart want to break in those moments? Something - a fist - squeezed her heart. It was a pain so fierce that she stifled the urge to cry out. For a few moments she breathed erratically until she could settle again. Her hand that had cupped his cheek was taken in his and held tightly against his chest. She prayed for the moment to go away. It was wrong. They were giving in to temptation again.
"Chakotay..." she whispered, opening her eyes to look at him. She saw her own pain reflected there, saw the honour. He would never hurt Seven...
"What is it?"
"You were not a fool, Chakotay. You waited. I don't blame you..." There was a long pause and for a moment only, she rested her head against his chest. Sighing, she stood away from him, breaking the contact and the connection. Picking up her bag again and slinging it over her shoulder, she straightened up and held his gaze. "For what it's worth, Chakotay, I'll share this with you. I know what I did. I always thought I had the best reasons in the universe for shying away from intimacies such as I knew you deserved. Suddenly now, it all seems so easy, as if they never should have existed, or that I should have allowed it to - to rule my life. I'm sorry I hurt you. I was the one who was a fool. A first class fool..."
He smiled, looking a little relieved at her revelation. He knew how she felt. No words were needed. But the silent barrier would always remain. She held her hand to him. He grasped it in his. They could continue with the air a little cleared between them, even resume being friends again. When Chakotay spoke, the old teasing was back in his voice.
"So are you going to tell me what your dress looks like?"
"No."
His eyes were warm as the rested on her. They relished the moment, knowing that when they exited the holosuite, they'd be Admiral Janeway and Professor Chakotay again with the renewed parameters of friendship. They walked to the doors and as the doors slid open, Chakotay looked at her.
"I take it you've been to the exhibition?"
"I have. You've done marvelous work on Ketarcha, Chakotay. The Federation is proud of you - "
"I don't need their commendation. I love my work."
"I was intrigued by the main exhibit," she said.
"Did Rojan rustle up some myths and legends for you, Kathryn?" This time she stopped in her tracks and Chakotay stopped too. "What? He didn't?"
"Rojan didn't, Chakotay. I got all my legends from you..."
***********