The Many Facets Of Ourselves
Posted on Tue Nov 27th, 2012 @ 2:25pm by Commander Patrick Leroy
Faye... That’s her name. After the ruckus in the lab I’ve accompanied the newly found Aleksandra and the child to medical and then we all had a brief encounter with the counselor: Commander Swift. That was in order considering the special situation we all find ourselves in.
Aleksandra seemed sad finding out that I’m not her real husband. Its’ stupid but the look in her eyes in that moment made me feel guilty. Still she managed to smile, she’s Starfleet after all. Even in the other reality.
After a short exchange of informations it was deemed better to bring her and the child to a place safe to distract their minds. I remained with them for a while watching for long moments from the balustrade over the kindergarten as Faye played with her mother.
The discovery has been most unexpected on me. Shocked is the right word to define my current emotional status. Even the genetic mapping is astoundingly matching. Still I’m not the father or am I?
The existence of a mirror universe, and the theory for endless others like the one we’ve found now, has been largely known in Federation territory. It has been also subject of study at the Academy from the time captain Kirk of the Enterprise accidentally found the first one along with some members of his crew more than a century ago.
Still I'd never bothered with the thought, until now.
The other Aleksa has depicted a scenario of war and death on the other side of the veil and I’ve been unable to keep a door open long enough. I’m feeling guilty for that too. Where are admiral Wegener and Li now? Fighting for their lives? Dead? shaking hands with their doubles?
Their doubles...Yes, I’m shocked by having to accept the existence of another myself. All of us are. Aleksandra from beyond, Aleksandra from here, My parents, while Kh’ali... I’ve yet to tell her.
“At least there’s a Leroy out there that is not a complete fool.” has been ‘real’ Aleksandra disheartened comment, her stare fixed in amazement on the child and the other self in the garden.
I’ve avoided to respond to the last (in chronological order) of Aleksa’s stinging remarks, my mind lost on implications. I watched her walk away then, to her current companion… Norman I think is named, the one from Merchant Marine. He was standing next to the door and didn’t come over to see.
I bear no grudge on Aleksa I think she’s hit as much as me, maybe worse. It is a rare opportunity… No, a unique one. To be put in front of a ‘what if’ in your life. A thing that all other people can only dream of and I wonder if it isn’t better that way.
The situation is weird enough to me but I needed Counselor Swift advice to make it weirder:
The child has to be protected. While you adults can somewhat understand and manage the exceptional quality of this situation she cannot. She’s too young to cope with the concept of multiple realities, of parents that are not parents and so on... You’re just ‘father’ to her and you should act like one.
Of course this until we’ll find a way to fix things and send them back where they belong recovering the Admiral and Li in the process.
When I explained to my parents the situation and that we had to recreate something of a protective atmosphere as Faye had known on the other side, mother remained mouth agape for long instants and father perked an eyebrow. I could read it in his eyes. At least real Aleksa stinging is openly spoken.
I have to admit that I never thought about that before… But by looking this little child I have to admit they have a quality to make you feel different not an easy thing to explain.
I wonder if what we fail to accomplish in our lives (or that we are thinking to fail) is in someway realized by some ‘ourselves’ in some distant reality and viceversa. A question destined to remain unanswered.
The doors are hissing open now. Faye’s happy shrill clearly audible as Aleksa tries to quiet her down. A Borg walking into my quarters would scare me less… She’ll be here any instant now…
And I don’t know what to do.
END OF LOG
