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Chapter Text

Amsha Bashir squeezed her husband Richard's hand tightly as she lay in the final stages of labor, and, through tears and pain, pushed her unborn child from her completely exhausted body. He tried to support her as best he could.

"Breathe, breathe..." the midwife instructed the woman in labor. "Push!"

Amsha did her best; it took all her strength, but she knew she would endure any pain in the world for her child. They eagerly awaited their son and placed their hopes in him to continue the Bashir line.

"The little head is already peeking out. One more time!"

The expectant mother screamed in pain and pushed one last time. Richard Bashir returned the pressure of his wife's hand, internally battling his worry for her and the anticipation of his son's arrival. The midwife, along with the doctor, delivered the newborn. The room heard the cry of the baby as the doctor held it. "Congratulations! It's a boy," he said to the parents, holding the baby out to them. Richard, like his wife, had tears in his eyes at the sight of this small, naked human being, who was much smaller than he had expected.

"Would you like to cut the umbilical cord?" the doctor asked him, to which the father nodded and cut it. The baby was then examined, cleaned, and wrapped in something warm. Amsha asked for her child. "Is he okay? He's healthy, isn't he, Doctor?"

The doctor reassured her: "He's healthy, as far as I can tell. A little small, but he's complete. Here, your child."

He carefully placed the baby in her arms. She held him to her breast so he could drink. They had already performed the final checkup on the mother. She was doing well.

"Look at him, Richard." Her husband gently stroked the head of the child, who was suckling at the mother's breast.

"He's... beautiful," he said, overwhelmed by emotions he usually displayed quite sparingly. "There you are at last, Julian Subatoi Bashir."

Chapter Text

At home, the rest of their relatives were already eagerly awaiting them. In the partially open-plan living room, the Christian Christmas decorations of the past few days were displayed, interspersed with congratulations on the birth. Parts of the walls were decorated with family pictures and various religious depictions from Christianity, Islam, and Hinduism.

Richard Bashir's background was a mixture of Arab and English-speaking people from Great Britain, while Amsha's roots lay largely in India. However, she also had English-speaking ancestors who were Christians. Over the centuries, some of her relatives emigrated to other areas and lived with their families in completely different countries, but they continued their values and traditions.

The earthly poet Singh el Bashir was one of Amsha's 15th-century ancestors; she kept a volume of his poetry among her books.They both had the surname Bashir when they first met in England: she, a trainee teacher and aspiring teacher, and he, in the middle of pilot training. There was an instant connection between them. Richard nevertheless pursued her with some ambition, unsure whether her family would accept him. He had no reason to worry, however, since Amsha's relatives, like his, were quite open-minded toward other faiths. There must have been some Arabs among her ancestors who bore this name.

The parents carried their son in a baby seat and got out of the transport vehicle, which stopped in the street in front of their house. The vehicle continued on its programmed route; a driver was nowhere tobe found; it was an intelligent, self-driving model on a common route, transporting people.

December 29, 2341, was today's date. The day before, Amsha had given birth to Julian Bashir. How would the others react to the new arrival?

"Are you as nervous as I am?" she asked her husband.

"And how," he confirmed. "I'm a little worried they'll rip the little one out of his crib right away. He seems so fragile."

"They won't. They're just happy that everything went well." He opened the front door and they entered.

"I hear something. At the door."

"Where else would they come in, Sina?"

"You'd better get up and make room for my sister," she told her husband, Aidan. He looked at her, somewhat irritated.

"I know what's appropriate. She's had a child, of course I'm not going to leave her standing in the room!"

"You don't need to raise your voice. I can hear you well enough."

"With you, I have two children," he murmured quietly, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.

The rest of the family paid them little attention: the younger nephews and nieces were playing with their Christmas presents, the older teenagers were chatting, and aunts and uncles, as well as the grandparents, were staring at the entrance to the living room where they were. Then they entered with a small basket, looking quite happy.

"Namasté," Sina greeted them warmly, making a corresponding gesture with her hands folded in frontof her chest.

"Salam aleikum!" came from Richard's parents.

"Welcome! All the best to you," the rest joined in.

"You're all here," Amsha rejoiced. "Namasté, sister."

"Wa aleikum assalam!" Richard replied to the Arabic greeting.

Aidan offered his sister-in-law the comfortable armchair. She sat down with the basket on her lap. "You can look at him, but not all at once," she said.

"Would you like to see your grandson first?" Richard turned to the grandparents, both his and hers. The two older couples approached; Amsha gently pulled back the protective blanket. There he rested, breathing peacefully.

"He's so small and cute."

"Did you name him 'Julian'? Why not Jules?"

"Jules? It already says 'Julian Subatoi' on the birth certificate," Richard said.

"You can still call him Jules..."

"Come here, children, but slowly," said Amsha's mother. Little by little, everyone greeted the newborn. Then the mother withdrew with her baby to change his diaper and breastfeed him.

Her husband checked on them a short time later. His son was slumbering in the crib, while his wife was in the marital bed. He tucked her in and leaned over the crib. "Jules," he whispered softly and gently kissed the baby's cheek.

Then he lay down in bed next to Amsha. His eyes were drooping with tiredness. Today they were simply exhausted from the drive home from the hospital.

Chapter Text

"From a few simple lines, something emerged that could be named. Lo and behold, the first numbers were born, no longer abstract forms, but something tangible. For those who once engage with the theory of numbers, mathematics is no longer a closed book, but the gateway to a world of puzzles that must be solved." [1]

The fact that her ancestor, Sing el Bashir, composed this text as a short, unrhymed poem comme-morating mathematics said a lot about the poet himself. He wasn't talking about Roman numerals, which were more reminiscent of letters than the Arabic numerals used almost everywhere in the world, which were the subject here. They allowed complex calculations to be represented more quickly andeasily, which saved a lot of space when writing, especially in earlier times, because writing materials were expensive, and elaborately printed books were expensive.

Singh came from India. Amsha didn't know what caste he belonged to. 900 years later, in the future, there were no longer any castes in India that defined the social status of people there. After the Eugenic Wars [2], it had finally been recognized that everyone was equal and had equal rights, and that no life was better or worse than anyone else's. The view of money and wealth changed: abilities, what someone could do for the community, became more important; origin, wealth, or fame became secondary.

Religions, political leanings, gender, orientation, career choice, and marital status hardly posed any obstacles to shaping one's life. At least not in the Federation. Singh. A common Indian name. Just like Khan. Khan Noonien Singh...

Amsha didn't associate anything positive with this name; it rather frightened her. If there had been anyone who had represented a counterexample, it would have been Gandhi.

So close to the turn of the year, the Bashirs' relatives stayed there before returning to their homes. Her sister Sina tasted the dinner. New Year's Eve would be a long one. "Will you stay up past midnight?"

"I'm not sure I'll fall asleep again. Actually, I always sleep when Jules is."

"He's awake for long periods during the day, but he sleeps most of it."

"How did you manage to be pregnant twice and have a second one after the first?"

Sina grinned. "I have a husband and he likes sleeping with me..."

Amsha threw a kitchen towel at her. "Sina! I didn't mean it like that. I was in labor for almost 24 hours, and during the last one, I had the feeling something huge was coming out."

"But that wasn't the case. You had a petite flyweight. Jules will grow and get stronger. He's only four days old."

"Do you think we waited too long to get pregnant? When I was younger, I wanted to advance my career. Later, it didn't work out for years until this year. Now I'm 33 and Richard is 35."

"You've done the right thing. You're healthy, he'll want for nothing, and we all live close together. Honestly, I envy you."

"Why?"

"That's one of the best times for parents, from babies to toddlers. Okay, they'll develop their defiant phases, but they'll pass. Childhood − enjoy it while it lasts. When puberty comes..."

Amsha laughed. "Like Amira, who loves to wrap herself in transparent neon skirts?"

Sina shook her head. "I think my daughter is a nudist. I'm constantly having to stop her from doing stupid things. She wanted to go to school in winter in a see-through top. She agreed to wear clothes tothe family reunion so as not to upset the grandparents."

"Maybe you could talk to her about it. It's not easy, but if it helps," she suggested.

Richard bathed his son in the small tub. He seemed to enjoy it; he kept looking at his father and making gurgling noises.

"His eyes aren't quite as dark as yours. There's a dark green in them," said his brother-in-law Aidan.

"The color can still change."

"My parents said the same thing about my hair. It's stayed red."

"What do you expect? After all, you're Irish."

"You're English. That doesn't mean anything." They laughed. He got along well with his wife's sister's husband. "When the labor took so long, I was worried about Amsha and Jules. All I could do was stand by her bed and hold her hand."

"Sometimes that's all you can do as a husband. I've been through it twice. With Sina, the labor was quick."

"You love her."

"Of course. Would I be with her otherwise?"

"Your children are almost grown. She makes you look like a pig every time..."

"That’s just kidding. She loves me, you know? I know she's a little bossy, but I practically don't know her any other way." The father lifted the boy out of the water and dried him. Aidan held out a new diaper, which he put on Jules, along with a warming onesie and a hat for his head, which barely grew any hair.

"You wanted him named 'Julian,' not 'Jules,' after your brother."

"Yes, not the same name. My brother only died in late 2340. From the effects of diabetes. We thought it would be bad luck to give him the same name."

"But you're calling him that now."

"Yes. It just feels right. The document says something different. In the end, a name is just a name... Isn't it, Aidan Bashir?"

"You're right, my friend."

Chapter Text

His parents lovingly cared for their son, attending all his appointments, meeting his basic needs, talking and playing with him; Amsha pushed him in the stroller, Richard played with him, and the family generally hung around the youngest member of the family. The first six months passed. Jules grew, but not much, so he remained smaller than other babies his age. His muscles were weaker: he learned to lift his head and grasp things much later. Crawling was out of the question.

Amsha read textbooks and self-help books, and she asked doctors and physical therapists how they could help Jules with his development. As a biology, math, and English teacher, she simply had to be able to teach him something, or at least delve deeper into his condition. Her husband, Richard, began reducing his flying duties as a passenger transport pilot so he could spend more time with the family. His wife was currently not working in her profession.

He lifted Jules onto the pediatrician's examination table. His first tooth was coming through, which led to Jules whining more often, and his father had to calm him down. "He's teething. We can tell by the change in his tone of voice. He doesn't want to put anything in his mouth."

"When the first teeth come through, it can be uncomfortable for the baby. The inside of the mouth is very sensitive right now. Distracting him a bit can help. Other sensory experiences, speaking, singing, movement exercises."

"Doctor, we feed Jules a normal diet and attend special needs programs. When he was born, they said he was healthy. How come he's so small and less strong?"

The doctor looked at the father. "Some children grow slower and develop later. But he's still too young to make any far-reaching predictions. Physically, Jules is developing normally, only his height and weight are slightly below average. His muscle tone is weaker. But he's aware of everything. You have to give him time." Richard thanked him and took his son.

Some time passed; the first birthday followed, then the second: Jules grew bigger, learned to crawl and walk, babbled, and began to use one- and two-word sentences. The learning processes all took longer for him.

"Mommy, Teddy."

"You want your teddy? Where did I put it... wait." She fetched Jules's small, brown cuddly bear, who didn't yet have a name.

"What's your teddy's name? Does it have a name?" she asked him.

"Bear," said the two-year-old. She lifted him onto her lap.

"That's what he is. But what do you call him?" Her son's eyes widened, and his mother realized he didn't understand. She gently poked him with her index finger. "Jules. You're Jules." She took his index finger and poked the teddy bear. "Who is he?"

He looked at it. "Ku-Kla... Ka... Ku-Ka-La-Ka... Kukalaka!"

Amsha repeated the word. "Kukalaka. That's his name." She wanted to cry for joy that he had chosen a name for something on his own for the first time. He hugged Kukalaka. "Mommy. Kukalaka kiss."

She gave the bear a kiss. "You too?" He nodded. "We have to go to playgroup now. You can take him with you, come on."

Later that day, it was bedtime for little Jules as evening approached. His mother spread the blanket over him and read him a page from a children's book before turning out the light. She left the bedroom door slightly open.

Jules' parents noticed peculiarities in their son. He was sensitive to noises, slept best with a night light, took his bear almost everywhere, and disliked certain smells, but he tried all kinds of foods. Almost all of them except beets. For a while, Jules only drank certain beverages, like warm milk and still water. Eventually, he gave teas, cocoa, and fruit juices a try, even vegetable juice (but no beets). He started kindergarten. His speech improved somewhat; he remained clumsy in his movements, and outside of his family and friends, he felt uncomfortable in new, unfamiliar surroundings.

Jules had a hard time connecting with other children. They all seemed to be surpassing him in their abilities. Jules tried hard, he tried, but he fell behind. It made him sad, then he cried or got angry when things frustrated him. He noticed the other parents praising their children. His parents did the same, but these were mostly things that other children took for granted.

At four, Jules felt like a big boy, no matter how far the boys and girls towered over him. His older cousins took him to a playground where other children were playing, and one of them helped Jules climb a climbing frame. "Hold on tight, okay? Don't let go." He kept an eye on Jules, who was climbing around on the scaffolding. It was clearly an effort, but he wanted to climb to the very top. His cousin Maven reminded him that he should let them know if he wanted to get down.

"I'm already big. I can do it," he said defiantly. Maven was still considering whether to climb after him. Then Jules went off on his own and climbed way too far. Maven didn't notice in time that Jules couldn't hold on anymore. He lost his footing and fells creaming. Maven just barely caught him, but Jules's arm hit the ground hard, causing a huge scream.

Naturally, his cousin reacted with concern. Maven's brother came running over. "What did you do? What's wrong with his arm?"

"He climbed too high and fell. I caught him, but his arm hit the ground... We need to get him to the hospital."

"No, first to Jules's parents. They live just down the street." They rushed to their aunt and uncle's house with the crying four-year-old.

The arm was treated, Jules was asleep in his bed.

"Can't I expect a twelve-year-old to look after his cousin at the playground for half an hour without anything happening to him?" Richard asked angrily. His nephew felt ashamed at his uncle's words. His face burned with heat. The aunt intervened.

"Stop it, Richard! It was an accident. Jules is different from other children and you know that. We are responsible for him. You can't blame your nephew."

"I'm sorry, Amsha! I... didn't mean for him to get hurt. Jules is my little cousin and I love him." Maven wiped away a tear.

"It's okay, Maven. His arm is getting better. Jules is asleep now. He's not in pain. Do you want to check on him for a moment?" The boy nodded, and the two of them looked into Jules's room. He was asleep, with the teddy bear Kukalaka by his side.

"Are you going to get into trouble because this happened?" he asked his aunt.

"No. Jules doesn't know his limits. He needs encouragement. We'll take better care of him. Richard is very worried about him, you know. He doesn't want to lose him. Neither do I, because Jules is our child. Your uncle is still struggling with the loss of his brother, your father. He loved him very much."

"We miss our father too. But mother is still here." They went back to the living room, where Richard finished his prayer.

"Is he all right?"

"Yes. We talked briefly."

"I wasn't very nice earlier. Please, forgive me." Maven felt a little better. "No worries. Could I stay here tonight? Would that be okay?"

"If you want to and your mother says yes, that's fine. Your brother has been home for hours anyway. It's best to call her," Amsha said. Her nephew used the house's video communication port to talk to his mother.

"Are you still awake?"

"Can you hear that?"

"Sure. You breathe differently when you're asleep." She snuggled against his chest. He looked up at the ceiling. He hoped they hadn't made too much noise. But he didn't think so. Their lovemaking was restrained, tender.

"What do we do if something happens to us before Jules grows up and he can't take care of himself?"

"In that case, he'll live with Sina and Aidan. Sina would do it."

"Aidan too. I asked him."

"We haven't exhausted all options because of Jules. Genetic analysis was never done."

"I know. We could have the doctor do one. It will only take a little while. Maybe something will come of it."

"He wasn't afraid to climb up there." Richard smiled. "Maybe he'll be a pilot someday."

"Or a mountaineer. Or a teacher..." Amsha replied.

"He should see the world. Maybe one day visit a distant planet. I wish that for him."

There were tiptoeing steps, and the bedroom door opened. "Jules? Can't you sleep?"

He came to them sleepily, holding his stuffed animal. "It's loud outside. There are beams of light..."

"Ah, the thunderstorm. Slide into the middle between us." He snuggled up to his parents. Amsha and Richard took their partner's hand in one hand; they placed it protectively over Jules.

Chapter Text

Visibly nervous, Amsha put down the pad she'd been working on. She returned to her job as a teacher. This didn't pose any problems for her, but rather the upcoming doctor's appointment with Jules for his genetic testing. She and her husband each had to provide a genetic sample; she had already taken one and only needed to bring it over. She prepared breakfast for her son.

"Mum, can you help me?" Amsha put down the knife she'd used to slice the apple and looked over for Jules. The boy tried to pull a green sweater over his head. His mother helped him. "You're all dressed. What'snext?"

"Um... comb hair?"

"Right. Then get your brush and stand in front of the mirror." He had to think for a moment about where the brush was and brought it from the low shelf in the bathroom to his height. Later, they had breakfast together. Richard had some flying assignments that would take all day.

"Jules, remember we're going to the doctor today. If you need to go to the bathroom first, please go now." He got up and went to the bathroom, washed his hands. Amsha grabbed her bag, quickly put on her coat and shoes, then helped Jules with his jacket. He could easily slip into his shoes. As he often did, he gave Kukalaka to his mother. He didn't want to go to the doctor without him. The bear went into her bag.

Jules clung to his mother on the seat of the transport vehicle. "What's going on, huh? You don't have to be afraid of the visit. He'll do a few tests, that's all."

"Why is this being done? I'm not sick..."

"We want to find out how your body can grow better and help you learn," explained Amsha.

"What about me?" he asked.

"We don't know. The doctor can find out. But it won't happen immediately. Some results take time. I'm with you like your teddy bear."

At the doctor's, she gave him the parents' genetic samples. The boy held his teddy bear in his arms and chatted with it. The doctor discussed the genetic analysis procedure with Amsha. Then he took a sample of Jules's saliva. "See, that was quick and easy. Now I want to do a few more tests. Your mum is waiting for you with Kukalaka." He looked at his mother.

"Everything's okay. You can go with him." They went into a room next door, where a small climbing course and other toys had been set up. The doctor explained to him in simple terms what he should do, such as climbing the climbing course. This challenged his gross motor skills. Jules paused in front of a climbing wall. "I'm afraid of climbing up there. I fell on my arm at the playground."

"I understand. We can do it like this: you climb as best you can, and I'll just hold on to the sides. The wall isn't very high."

He grabbed the climbing elements of the wall and stepped onto the first steps with his feet; the doctor held him by the sides of his waist. Eventually, Jules managed this exercise, even though it was quite strenuous. He played with a few toys alone and with the adult. There were fine motor tasks like drawing something, building something, or cutting along a line. He showed him picture cards with facial expressions as well as various everyday objects, animals, and nature pictures. Jules didn't know all the names and also had difficulty telling things apart. When all the tests were completed, they returned to Amsha.

"Did you participate well?" she asked Jules.

"Yes."

"He did well," the doctor confirmed. "I'll let you know the rest, Mrs. Bashir."

"Okay. ... Will you say goodbye to the doctor, Jules?" Her son turned to the doctor. "Good-bye."

"See you next time, Jules," the doctor said.

On the way home, the mother thought things were going quite well. Maybe she was worrying too much... Amsha held her son's hand as they walked back from the bus stop to the house. He could only remember familiar places within his surroundings, otherwise he would get lost.

"Mum, I was brave. I climbed a wall. The doctor helped me."

"You did well. I'm cooking us lunch. Want to help me?" Jules beamed with joy and ran into the kitchen. "Wait for me," she laughed.

Richard returned from his last flight. He had previously had a stressful business meeting. For the first time ever, he declined an assignment. "How was your day? You look stressed."

He kissed his wife in greeting. "I wish I could erase today from my memory. I hope you can cheer me up a bit."

"The doctor's appointment went smoothly. We'll have to wait and see. Some tests were conducted. Play behavior, communication, social skills, mental and physical abilities."

"He's probably playing in his room. I kept thinking about him during the meeting..." His rarely displayed vulnerability shone through; Richard narrowed his eyes. "Amsha..."

She reached for his hand. "What happened?" she asked him.

"I'm supposed to conduct interplanetary shuttle flights that fly close to Bajor, transporting people − primarily to and from a new space station. It's called 'Terok Nor.' I've heard a lot about Bajor, just like I've heard about Cardassia."

Amsha was horrified. "Bajor has been occupied by Cardassia. We've been hearing bad news from there lately. You didn't accept that assignment, did you?"

"No. I refused, I told them my opinion clearly. They want to conquer everything they can, those Cardassians. There's something amiss there, Amsha."

"What did your boss say? Did you get in trouble?"

"I was demoted," he answered her. "To shuttle steward." She could see the pain in her husband's eyes. Richard was a proud man who was hurting by the demotion. Now he had to submit to the orders of higher-ups.

"They didn't transfer me. I still have to fly there, only I'm no longer a pilot, but I report to a pilot. If the situation weren't as it is now, I would have quit. This is so shitty!" He fell into Amsha's arms, who tried to comfort him. She'd only ever seen Richard this distraught after the death of his brother less than six years earlier.

"My boss had the nerve to ask if I wasn't thinking about my family. I said, Of course I am. I don't want my wife to be left without a husband and our son because I'm flying to a conflict zone from which I might not return." He paused. "Then he said, 'It's okay. I knew you weren't stupid enough to risk your future... Speaking of which, I heard about some problems your son is having'."

"How dare this man talk about Jules like that?" Amsha fumed.

"I told him that Jules doesn't have problems, that there are just some things that are more difficult for him. I also said that he should keep my family, and especially my son, out of such discussions. It's not his place to talk about him."

"He should be glad he didn't mention it in front of me. I would have given him the appropriate answer, but I realize you had to hold back."

"Thank you, Amsha. I'm glad to have you."

"Let's have dinner. I'll get Jules; he's already engrossed in the game again."

Jules unconsciously cheered his father up a bit while they ate dinner. The boy knew that his father flew around, and in his childish imagination, he traveled to many places and even had to fight dragons or other monsters. In his eyes, he was a hero. His mother laid out pajamas and underwear for Jules; she ran a bath and they undressed. She picked him up to take him into the tub.

"Is the water okay for you? Not too hot, is it?"

"No, not hot." Amsha couldn't let her child bathe alone at his age. Whether sitting or lying  down, he could barely reach the edges of the tub to hold on. The risk of drowning in the water was too high.

He sat safely on her lap and eventually dozed off from the warmth and comfort, so she had to wake him. "Wake up, Jules. I'll take you to bed. You can sleep there." So Amsha got out of the tub with him, dried him and herself, got dressed, and brushed his teeth. Then he finally lay in his bed, asleep like a rock.

"You have to put up with that from your boss, that − pardon the expression − asshole?" His brother-in-law and friend Aidan ran beside Richard; they jogged through the city park at a moderate pace. In summer, the grasses and bushes there grew endlessly. Apparently, the gardeners couldn't keep up.

"What do you think I should do, huh? I'm employed by Starfleet. As a young man in pilot training, my request to complete the remainder of my training in England, excluding the exam, was approved. Otherwise, I would have had to have a long-distance relationship with Amsha. She studied and lived there, just like my family. Starfleet Academy did me a favor by doing that. I didn't want to leave Amsha, I was so in love with her... I still love her."

They jogged around the next corner. "I remember. That's where I met Sina. One night during the semester break, she threw me out of bed to see who was throwing stones at the window, only to discover it was you. You confused her room and, to make matters worse, climbed up. Climbed right into the open window. Fell right on top of me, made a lot of noise, and her father burst in because of it."

"Not exactly the best first impression I made. I didn't even know you, nor did Sina. She just stared at me, just like you and her father. When he asked me who I was, I said, 'Richard Bashir, Amsha's boyfriend. Isn't this her room?'"

Aidan giggled. "He immediately started laughing. Amsha's room was next door. He laughed at me because I looked so ridiculous lying on the floor with practically nothing on."

Richard took a break on the park bench. "It's a completely different time, carefree... He demoted me tosteward and is flying the shuttle I serve on to this place himself, where the situation is beyond tense. I have to fly with him, regularly."

"This is crazy. He knows you have to pay more attention to Jules right now. Amsha will be back teaching. You've always done a great job. His reaction is inappropriate."

Out of necessity, Richard made regular flights as a shuttle steward to the Terok Nor space station on Bajor. He received no precise information about the people being transported; certainly, there were occasionally goods and supplies included when he had to check the transport bay lists. In general, under his boss's command, he was only allowed to perform certain tasks. The longer he held the job, the more uncomfortable he felt. The massive station always hovered like something ominous in space before his outbound and return flights.

News of the test results arrived. A private consultation was requested. Amsha immediately went to see Jules's doctor. She sat opposite him at a desk in his office, where he had invited her in. On the desk surface was an orderly stack of papers and a pad.

"Mrs. Bashir, thank you for your prompt response. It took a little longer, but I had to be sure."

"Please don't keep me in suspense," she begged him.

"I have to tell you something that's not easy to bear, but it's still something you can live with. There are things you can't change, and others you can work on... Genetic analysis has shown that the combination of your parents' genes has led to certain malformations in certain areas of your son's genes due to certain factors. This affects physical and mental functions, such as inhibited bone and muscle growth or limited memory and information acquisition abilities."

"What are these factors?"

The doctor explained it to her. "The fact is, you and your husband are genetically related to some degree. There must have been some genetic overlap of ancestors somewhere along your lines." Amsha was lost for words, not knowing how to respond.

"None of you are to blame for this. You didn't know anything about it. I have to tell you something else about Jules."

"The other tests?"

"Yes. ... Jules's neurological functions, his perception, information processing, and retrieval differ from those of neurotypical individuals. His emotional, social, and, in some cases, language skills are far lower than usual for his age. These three things can be worked on with support."

"Are you telling me that my son will never do certain things? Read, write, arithmetic, graduate from school, get an apprenticeship, pursue a career, start a family?"

"It's possible that he might one day learn to read, write, and arithmetic..."

The doctor handed her a tissue, which she used to dry her tears. He tried to comfort her. "Despite all this, he is healthy and capable of living. Jules can live a good life, Mrs. Bashir."

It was already getting dark outside. Richard was worried about his wife. Where had she been taking so long? He had the day off, so he could look after Jules. The boy was already asleep. Just before he was about to call Sina, the front door opened. Richard stepped into the hallway.

"Amsha? Is that you?" He turned on the light and was startled at first. "Amsha!" He quickly approached her and held her tight. "Tell me, have you been drinking alcohol? Your eyes are puffy. Have you been mugged?"

She spoke slowly. "I actually did drink alcohol. For... the first time in my life. I know how wrong that is. No one mugged me, Richard. I went to the doctor for the results..." She had been crying. He led her into the living room and gently sat her down in an armchair.

"Can you talk about it?" Amsha shook her head. She opened her hand bag, took out documents from the visit and handed themto him. "He printed everything out for me again. Read it."

Her husband read through everything and looked at her. "No... that can't be true..." he murmured.

"It's the truth. My God, Richard." He took her in his arms. Now they knew. But what would that actually mean for Jules? What kind of life would he lead?

Chapter Text

Jules participated in the speech exercises conducted by his parents and the speech therapist to expand his vocabulary and improve his pronunciation. At kindergarten and elsewhere, attempts were made to integrate him more into sports activities. At times, this proved difficult due to his clumsiness. Precise movements were hard for him; his hand-eye coordination was delayed, and his stamina was low. For group and team sports, Jules was always the last child chosen. The exclusion by the other children did little to motivate him. He overheard an older boy using the term "retarded" to describe him. Other children laughed at him because, at five years old, he always carried his beloved teddy bear with him and often talked to it or kissed it.

Amsha couldn't get Jules to leave the bear at home for any length of time. One day, an argumentes calated between him and a boy who was trying to take Kukalaka away from him. The boy tugged on one of the stuffed animal's legs, causing it to rip open, while Jules desperately held the bear by its belly and screamed. Two teachers finally intervened. They separated the two boys; Jules did get Kukalaka back, but it had a clearly damaged leg, and the stuffing was already spilling out. He clutched it tightly, unwilling to let go, and howled, unable to be comforted. Amsha had to pick Jules up.

Seeing him like that broke her heart. Things weren't looking good for Kukalaka. Back home, Jules immediately retreated to his room. She heard him crying, but decided to let him calm down on his own for a while. A little later, she knocked on the door and went in. She found him lying on his stomach, his face towards the pillow, with his stuffed animal beside him. "Hey, my little one," she began gently. "May I sit next to you?"

He mumbled something unintelligible. "I didn't understand you. Please repeat it for me."

“No,” he whined. “I’m not little!” He sniffed loudly.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I want to talk to you. Do you need a tissue?” He rummaged in his pocket, sat up, and blew his nose, still turning his back on her. “Please look at me. I know you’ve been crying. You’re probably embarrassed that I see this, but you don’t have to be. You’re sad and probably angry too, I imagine, about what happened today.”

Jules slowly turned to his mother. A flush of redness remained on his face, traces of tears and moisture on his skin. "That boy hurt Kukalaka badly. He was mean to him." Amsha wiped her son's face.

"I'm so sorry for Kukalaka. He hurt him badly − judging by the way his leg looks." Jules ran his hand over the bear's broken leg.

"Kukalaka is my friend. He looked after me. I'm going to show that boy, I'm going to −"

“No, Jules,” Amsha interrupted him in a serious but composed voice. “You won’t use any violence against him. That’s not right. It’s against the kindergarten rules. In our family, it’s not allowed either, and it’s not allowed in many societies either. You mustn’t hurt anyone. We don’t want the boy to hurt you. Do you promise me that?”

“I promise, Mum. ... What will happen to Kukalaka?”

She sighed. “He’ll get a nice place where you can visit him.”

He burst into tears. “No, Mom! Please don’t take him away! He’s not completely damaged…”

“We’ll look at him together later. Cover him up for now.” With a heavy heart, the boy covered the bear up to his shoulders.

Sina visited her sister that day. They took Jules on a short trip to a zoo. Next door was a museum aboutairplanes, shuttles, and spaceships, which they looked at. He asked her which of them his father had flown. Sina came home with them, where she and Amsha talked about clothes and other things that didn't interest Jules. He went back to his cuddly toy and wondered how he could save it. Then he remembered that his mother had sometimes sewn up the odd hole in its clothes with a needle and thread.

If he played it cleverly, he could do it. He waited until his aunt and mother were so engrossed inconversation that he could go undisturbed into his parents' bedroom. There was a desk with compartments, and he searched in them: he found a needle with a larger eye of a needle and thread. Then he crept quietly into his room.

Jules managed to thread the beginning of the needle with some difficulty, leaving a long piece which he knotted. He stuffed the filling back into the teddy bear's body with his finger and made a small hole with the needle along the leg, through which he pulled the thread. He had to make several stitches to join the fabric of the teddy bear's skin together and close the wound. Finally, Jules tied several knots and cutoff the remaining thread with children's scissors. He had saved him.

She peeked into Jules's room. Her son was lying in his bed with Kukalaka in his arms. "Sina, I can't believe it," Amsha whispered. "He mended the teddy's leg with my sewing kit."

Sina smiled. "He must have been sneaking into your room. I still think it's sweet how he cares for his stuffed animal." Amsha gathered up the sewing kit, and she and Sina quietly left the room. Her sister drove back to her house.

At the end of 2346, Richard signed the termination agreement instead of resigning himself, or rather, before he was fired, six months after being demoted. He could no longer endure the boss's harassment. Added to this was the growing fear and unease he felt on every single flight. The political unrest in the border regions was escalating. No one on the various government sides of the planets seemed willing to talk to each other. He considered this dangerous. This can't go on much longer, he told himself.

So he sat on the express train with his bag packed full of the contents of his locker, which he had to empty...

After the signing, the door to the office next to his boss's suddenly opened; a figure whose face was covered by a hood walked directly toward him. "Come with me." Richard complied with the stranger. The voice sounded young, perhaps in his twenties. They sat down at a table; the hooded figure in a chair opposite him. The room was very dimly lit, and the temperature seemed warmer than usual.

"Place your hands on the table," the voice commanded. He did so, albeit hesitantly. His counterpart touched the person's hands. Instinctively, he pulled them away. "Leave them there." The stranger's hands reached for Richard's: gray hands. He should have known, and yet he was surprised to encounter a Cardassian outside of Cardassian territory − moreover, in Federation space.

"You're Cardassian. I don't understand what you want here. What do you want from me?"

"Just a few questions about your work. Answer them truthfully. That's all you have to do."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then I'd have to force you. Believe me, you don't want that..." The man produced a small flask, which he placed on the table.

"I suppose if I drank this, I'd tell you everything."

"Something like that."

“Ask your questions. No need to help me…” The man placed a padd in front of him and jotted something down. The conversation was thus being recorded. “Your name and current job title?”

“Richard Bashir. I am currently retired. Before that, my position was shuttle steward. I was originally a pilot.” The other man noted this information. “What did you sign earlier?”

“A termination agreement stating that I am leaving my job.”

“Then you surely have a copy of it… Show it to me.”

“It’s still on the table in the other room. You didn’t give me time to take it,” he pointed out.

“I’ll have my colleague bring it.” He took out a small speaking device, similar to a communicator. The man’s face remained hidden. Minutes passed, then someone stood behind Richard whom he couldn’t see. The document was placed on the table, and the person disappeared as silently as before. The Cardassian briefly checked the contract and slid it to Richard’s side.

He asked further questions about Richard’s work, which Richard answered. Then his counterpart asked one final question. “Do you have anything here you need to take with you?”

“Yes, in my locker. I’ll empty it and hand over the keycard.” Richard started to get up, but the Cardassian held him back.

“There’s one last thing before you do. I can’t let you go otherwise…”

“Look, I won’t breathe a word about this conversation. To anyone. None of this ever happened,” he assured him.

“I may believe you… but it’s not enough. That’s why you have to drink the contents of this vial. It’s not much.”

“My answers to your questions would be exactly the same. So what’s the point?”

“That’s not what it’s for. The substance is meant to erase your memory of this brief exchange. It will have virtually no effect on your body.”

“I thought you were giving me a choice, but you were just pretending to get me to talk… I have no choice but to refuse… allow me one question, please.”

“One. Ask.”

“Will… will this substance embarrass me to the point of losing control of my bodily functions? I would find that very unpleasant.”

“I can assure you that such things will not happen.”

After the person drank the contents, he felt strange in his head. He slipped slightly off the chair, couldn't keep his eyes open, and drifted into a kind of temporary unconsciousness. The other man sat him up somewhat upright and monitored his condition while he was unconscious. He lowered the room temperature, put on gloves to cover the telltale staining on his hands, and erased all records as he and Richard left. Slightly dazed, he was helped into a chair by the unknown man. He waited until Richard Bashir was fully conscious again.

“I hope you’re feeling better now after your fainting spell.”

“I think so. I signed a termination agreement. That’s all I know…”

“Your boss said you didn’t look well. Perhaps it was the stress of the changes in your life.”

“You’re a medic? You’re wearing gloves. Did you take care of me?”

“Yes, I did. As far as I know, your locker is supposed to be emptied.”

He escorted him there, keeping a low profile. Richard took out his belongings and put everything in hisbag. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Then he was gone, and the Cardassian was certain he would never see him again, let alone set foot on that planet again. He and his colleague beamed away onto their shuttle, bound for their home planet.

Chapter Text

Richard stayed home for a while for a change, where he currently had no job, but wanted to return to professional life at another time. Not as a pilot anymore, but he had another idea: he was seriously considering becoming a diplomat. For this, however, Richard would have to study, achieve good grades, and educate himself in cultural, political, and historical matters. These concerned Earth and other known planets, including those outside the Federation. He would therefore have an immense amount to learn. Before beginning such studies, he took a personality test, which he passed.

Fortunately, Richard was able to complete most of his studies from home; this left him with enough time for his son, who was going through a difficult phase in the imminent transition from kindergarten to school. Jules was far from ready, as he couldn't count, not even write his name or hold a pencil properly. Amsha had told her husband about the Kukalaka incident and how Jules had repaired it on his own. That made the father quite proud. The teddy bear now always waited at home for Jules, where no one tried to damage it.

Gradually, Jules seemed to be developing a bit further. He recently wanted to dress himself, brush his teeth, even shower and bathe, all by himself, but he couldn't do that yet. They explained to him that he still needed help with washing. Presumably, his sense of shame was developing. He tried to use a replicator, which didn't work. His father showed him a few simple things on a children's computer.

Jules was actually a cheerful child. His relatives especially loved him. But his parents noticed that he was becoming increasingly withdrawn, quieter, and less talkative. When sorting his clothes, sometimes items were missing − not many, but they disappeared or were damaged − and this always happened at kindergarten. Richard didn't hear anything about it from Jules, and the kindergarten didn't inform the Bashirs either.

Finally, Jules refused to go there in the mornings; he said he had a stomach ache and felt hot. However, he didn't have a fever. Richard was seriously worried about him, so he wanted to take him to the pediatrician. Jules threw a huge tantrum; he didn't want to get dressed. Richard didn't recognize him at all.

By now, Richard was certain something was wrong. He went into the room of the boy, who was standing by the bed.

"Don't you want to tell me why you don't want to go to kindergarten? Have the other children been mean to you? You can tell us anything. You know that."

He looked sadly at the floor, not at his father. Richard approached him slowly and crouched down. "We all want you to be okay, Jules. Are you upset or scared?" He hugged him lightly, and Jules briefly grimaced as if he were in pain. Richard found this strange, since he was barely touching him. He let go. "Are you hurting? Did another child hurt you?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"Where does it hurt? Will you show me?" The boy made vague allusions. The father couldn't get any further.

"May I take a look? Will you let me? Maybe you have an injury that needs treatment..." Jules nodded, and Richard pulled off the top of his pajamas and lifted his shirt. From the front, everything looked normal. On his back, however, he had bruises and scratches. There were red and blue marks on his arms. "Were you pinched on your arms?"

His son buried his face in his father's chest, who stroked it. The pajama bottoms slid down. He saw the same injuries on the back of the legs as on the back and had a hunch about what Jules's bottom would look like. He still had to look. Exactly the same bruises and scratches. He put it back on.

“You never have to go back to that kindergarten. It’s not your fault. I’ll call your mum and ask the doctor to come and take care of you. We’ll find a solution, okay?”

It turned out that some of the children, boys and girls alike, were bullying him. Secretly, hidden, silently. They had occasionally stolen or damaged pieces of his clothing. That children occasionally roughhoused was acceptable, and minor accidents could happen while playing. But these injuries had been maliciously and deliberately inflicted on a boy who couldn't defend himself.

The Bashirs took Jules out of kindergarten and filed a criminal complaint against the institution for breach of duty of care and endangerment. They were only able to repair the physical damage through medical treatment. Psychologically, Jules had to learn to trust other children again. His cousins ​​and neighbour children played with him. The move to a different facility for children his age did him a lot of good. The outcry and outrage in Jules' family over the trouble at the previous kindergarten were palpable. They tried to make his time as pleasant as possible until he started school.

Aidan took him tochildren's theater performances, which he obviously enjoyed. He suggested they let him act in a few small roles. It didn't matter that he couldn't read yet. “Through the game, Jules is with other children his age, and he can express his feelings better. He's also learning how to put on a play with others,” Aidan said.

“Let's ask him.” Amsha asked her son, who was initially hesitant. He wanted to see it. The performance he and his mother saw was enjoyable. His uncle was good at running a children's theater and organizing performances.

“Can I participate in something like that?”

“Yes, you can. There are different roles. Not everyone has lines to speak. Sometimes a child plays a tree or an object.”

“Who decides that?”

“The director thinks about the roles and decides which role suits whom. This is rehearsed together and then performed in front of an audience.”

“Then I can be someone else for a short time.”

Amsha put her arm around his shoulders. “You slip into a different role, but you are still you. Your father, the rest of your family, and I love you just the way you are. Don’t forget that.” Her son looked up at his mother and hugged her happily.

Chapter Text

Time passed quickly at the new children's center Jules attended. There was a group for children with special needs, like him, which was also meant to help prepare them for school. He liked it there, but still noticed the difference between these children and those at the children's theater or in his own family.

In the support group, Jules was among those who could do the most: many had noticeable physical disabilities and also intellectual impairments, and could barely speak or not at all. Some were completely helpless, practically like babies. They would be dependent on help for the rest of their lives, while he was able to do some basic things independently.

The preschool teacher taught him how to hold a pencil and draw simple shapes like a circle, square, and triangle. They made crafts, played games, and went on outings. During his preparation for school, he was told he would learn many things there. There were lessons according to a schedule; one had to complete assignments, listen to the teachers, and do homework; tests were given in between, and school lasted for many years. At the end, one took an exam and received a diploma. Jules wanted to know how old someone was then. He was told 16 or 18. He couldn't make much sense of the numbers alone. His parents said that a person was considered an adult at 18.

Jules played small roles in the children's theater. He practiced a lot for it. His uncle Aidan made picture cards for him and drew scenes. He listened attentively when Aidan recited his lines and tried to memorize the plot, which wasn't easy at all. It wasn't just about what he had to do, but Jules also had to pay attention to the other characters' entrances. The others found it much easier.

Aidan drove his nephew home from rehearsal. "Are you all right? You were pretty quiet today."

"I'm thinking."

"What are you thinking about? The play?"

"Partly, but not only that."

“Tell me about it,” Aidan encouraged him.

The boy sighed softly. “You’re all so clever. The adults and the children from the theater, my cousins. I’m not that smart. Mum and dad can work in such difficult jobs.Dad reads a lot of books and writes a lot. Mom said he’s studying for an exam for another profession. I’m starting school soon, but I don’t know if I can manage it…”

“Listen, Jules. Nobody is equally good at everything. You need more time and learn more slowly. That’s not bad at all. It doesn’t make you stupid. In fact, I think you have great ideas. So you learn to read, write, and do mathematics in two years instead of one. What does that matter?”

“And what if I don’t learn it?” Aidan pressed the stop button, the vehicle stopped, and they got out.

“I’m sure you’ll learn these things and much more. If not, you can still lead a fulfilling life. Try it out for a start. If you find you can’t handle it, you can attend a type of school that’s better suited to you. There you’ll learn practical things.” They walked to Jules’s parents’ house.

“But I don’t want to go to a school with children like the ones in my kindergarten group. They’re all nice and everything, but most of them can’t speak, can’t move, and some have to be fed and wear diapers. That’s not me.”

“Yes, that makes sense. There are schools for children like you who have learning difficulties. Let’s just wait and see.”

Richard put down the pad. In less than a year, he would pass his diplomatic exam. That the terrible attack on Setlik III took place that year showed the deep divide between the people of the Federation and the Cardassian Union. A border war had begun, the duration of which no one knew. Sometimes he lost track of time because he was so busy studying. He was keeping up with the material.

In the kitchen, his brother-in-law Aidan was making tea. “Do you want some too? It’s been dark outside for ages, so because of the fasting, Ramadan, you can eat and drink without worry at this hour…”

“Thank you, pour me some of that herbal tea, please.” He handed him a cup. “I thought you were already asleep.”

“I just can’t seem to manage it. Too much on my mind… Richard, I need to talk to you about Jules.”

“I’m all ears. What’s up?”

Aidan looked at him. “Things are going quite well at the theater. On the way back here, your boy expressed his concerns about perhaps not being able to keep up at school. He’s worried about not being able to learn the basics. He’s aware that other children are more capable than him, and perhaps he thinks he has to be like his parents…”

“He said that?”

“In that sense. Jules certainly doesn’t want to go to a school with children from the special needs group where he is. They are much more severely impaired than he is. I explained to him that he can go to regular primary school, and if that’s too much, there are other schools for children like him.”

“He will go to school and learn. We know that Jules needs to try harder. Amsha and I aren’t sending himto a special needs school. The change to the other kindergarten happened because he was being neglected. Jules is much smarter than he thinks; he just lacks confidence. But I’ve seen that he’s capable of more, if I think about the incident with the bear.”

“Well, Richard. Jules is your son; you’re raising him. You never know how far he’ll develop. You should tell him what’s going on with him, though. He has a right to know.”

“He’s too young for that. It would discourage him, and he might even think he can’t achieve anything. I’m not going to do that to him.”

“How do you know? He might ask about it someday, and then what? Should I lie and play dumb?”

“If Jules asks you, say you don’t know. He can ask us.”

“As you wish… you want to protect him. I understand that. But please, Richard, don’t lie to him. Don’t do that. If it goes wrong and he finds out, he’ll despise you, and you’ll lose him.”

His brother-in-law was silent for a while. His words carried weight. “Aidan, you won’t find anyone in our family who loves Jules the way we do. We would do anything for him, absolutely anything.”

“Then please don’t hurt him.”

Chapter Text

His wife overheard the discussion between Aidan and Richard in the kitchen and initially didn't want toget involved. Eventually, she joined them. "I heard you were talking about Jules."

Her brother-in-law gave them an apologetic look. "I'm just worried, Amsha. My own children are quite grown up now, and they haven't had these difficulties. I see Jules at the theater. He's very hardworking and doing well. He's a lovely boy. You're his parents − you love him, but so do we. Otherwise, you wouldn't have asked us, would you?"

“We would entrust Jules to you if we died before he was independent. That hasn’t changed.” Aidan nodded and sipped his tea. Amsha and Richard ate a late dinner.

“Good night, you two. I need to sleep. There’s a performance tomorrow,” Aidan said as he took his leave.

“Good night.”

On the day he left kindergarten, Jules had mixed feelings: on the one hand, he was happy to have gotten a little older and to learn new things (and thus become smarter); on the other hand, he had grown accustomed to the group, the children, and the teachers. Then there was the fear of not knowing how things would go at school and how the new children would treat him.His father took him to kindergarten that morning. Jules got up when Richard woke him, and he washed himself, got dressed by himself, combed his hair in front of the mirror, and brushed his teeth. He watched as his father shaved the sides of his face beside him.

"Are you finished brushing?"

“Yes, I am.” He spat into the low children’s sink and rinsed his mouth. “Dad, why don’t you shave off thewhole beard?”  Richard smiled slightly. “I want to keep the part under my nose. I like it, and so does your mom. It suitsmy age, you know?”

“But you’re not that old yet,” the six-year-old pointed out. “How old are you?”

“I’m 42.”

“Oh. That sounds like a lot.”

“It’s a big number for a child, but when you’re grown up, you’ll think differently about it. … Now, let’s have breakfast. We’ll leave afterward.”

They took the transport vehicle for three stops to their destination. At the kindergarten, Richard dropped his son off with his group and spoke briefly with the group leader. “Today is Jules’ last day here. He knows that, too. Will there be any kind of farewell ceremony?”

“We’ll do that later today. It’ll be really nice.”

“He’s looking forward to it. I’ll pick him up again this afternoon.” Richard left while Jules played. He picked him up later; he had received a small package. At home, he wanted to know when he had to go to school. “In two weeks, when the summer holidays are over. Kindergarten is also closed for the holidays now.”

“I’m going to miss the group…”

“I know, Jules. At school, you’ll meet new children and make some friends.”

Jules attended primary school. In the class photo, he stood in the front row due to his short stature. He had to get used to not being allowed to play all the time and having to concentrate on learning. The children began learning the first letters and numbers. Jules paid attention to the teacher as she pronounced them, explained them, and wrote them on the board. Unfortunately, he found it difficult to correctly identify the letter or number by sound. Then he was supposed to draw the corresponding "picture" of what each symbol looked like.

That meant performing several tasks simultaneously: listening, watching, understanding, and writing things down. He couldn't manage it. Around him, his classmates worked diligently while he sat there, perplexed. Jules looked at the teacher and raised his hand. She came over to him. "Yes, Jules? How can I help you?"

In front of him lay a blank sheet of paper, and next to it, a pen. “Teacher, I don’t know how to write that letter. I paid attention and watched you write, but I don’t really understand it. Now I’m stuck.” His teacher was a young woman with shoulder-length, dark brown curly hair, a fair complexion, and a friendly face. Her name was Ms. Frixton. “Were you able to hear the letter correctly?”

“Not quite, I think. I can hear well, but I’m unsure about this.”

“Are the other noises too loud or distracting?”

“Not too loud. I can hear them, but I can concentrate on your voice.” She asked what he had heard. His retelling didn't quite match hers, and Jules couldn't remember the letter. Ms. Frixton knew about Jules's diagnosis that he was neurodifferent, as well as the specific difficulties he had with learning, communication, and interacting with others. His mother had mentioned this during the initial interview and provided a copy of the medical report. With him, she had to take a simpler approach if he was to learn anything. Hurdles in information intake, storage, analysis, and application had to be overcome.

"I'll give you a sheet of paper with lines and large boxes. The letter is shown in one of the boxes. I'll give you headphones with a voice recording. You listen to the name of the letter, look at the letter on the paper, and draw it several times in the empty boxes. As an aid, you should quietly say the letter to yourself to practice."

So Jules practiced writing this way. The children continued with the next letter. At the end of the lesson, Ms. Frixton reminded him that he had to go to break. He showed her the sheet of paper on which he had scribbled some writing attempts. He still needed practice with his fine motor skills. "I couldn't do any better, I'm sorry," he apologized.

"I can see what this is. You don't need to apologize for that. You're just starting out and you've written your first letter. Well done. Now go outside to the schoolyard to play and eat your breakfast. When the bell rings, the next lesson will begin." He went to break.

Later, back at his parents' house after school, he showed them the piece of paper with what he had written. His teacher wrote a short report and a practice assignment for Jules in his homework book. Somewhat embarrassed, he kept his head down, ashamed in front of his parents that he hadn't managed to do more that day.

"That's fine, Jules. You should practice this again on the second sheet. I'll pronounce the letter for you, we'll say it together, and then you'll read it by yourself. We'll practice that for an hour. But now we're going to have lunch."

"You're not angry with me?"

Amsha shook her head in surprise. "Angry? Why would I be? You tried your best, you participated, and you did the best you could. Ms. Frixton wrote some very nice things about you in your book." He looked up and was pleased. They ate lunch, and Amsha practiced reading and writing with her son.

Richard immersed himself in his studies. He was taking the exam in a few days. "How's he doing?" Richard asked.

"Well. He's trying very hard. We knew it wouldn't be easy. Jules doesn't hear the pronunciation of letters correctly and has to learn to match each symbol. That's exhausting, and of course, the other children have already surpassed him. He's given easier tasks. A teaching assistant will probably be hired to help him with his studies at school."

"Okay. That could help him."

Despite all this support, Jules continued to fall further and further behind in his learning. He had trouble remembering letters and numbers, and even less so distinguishing between them, similar to differentiating everyday concepts like animals. Reading, let alone writing words, counting, and mathematics were completely impossible. It increasingly frustrated him; he also didn't have the energy for children's theater at the moment.

Jules wanted to understand why these things were so difficult for him. One day, he confronted hisparents. "What's wrong with me? I had a medical examination once. What did the doctor say?"

Richard and Amsha both looked at each other. The question they had been dreading had been asked. They had given the answer considerable thought.

“When you were very little, you got quite sick. Your immune system didn't have time to build up enough defenses, and as a result, some important cells in your body were damaged. That caused problems there. Your mind is also affected, which makes it so hard for you to learn. The doctor said there were things we could help you with, and we did. But even he didn't know how you would develop later on.”

Jules fell into his father's arms and cried a little. He wanted to comfort him, tell him that everything would be alright and that he shouldn't worry. It hurt him too; Amsha held back her tears until she was alone with her husband. That night, she lay awake in the bedroom, crying into her pillow.

“Amsha.” Richard gently turned her toward him.

“What if I did something wrong during the pregnancy −” she began.

“No. You didn’t. We know the reason that led to this. It was determined at procreation.”

“I can’t bear to watch him suffer any longer. We have to help him somehow…”

He sat down and put hishead in his hands. “As a diplomat, I recently had dealings on Adigeon Prime. I learned a lot about the inhabitants, and there’s a procedure that can be carried out there. It’s illegal on Federation planets…” Amsha sat down as well.

“You’re talking about… genetic manipulation…”

“Yes,” he swallowed. “Listen. I don’t want to create an Augment like Khan Noonien Singh. Absolutely not. Jules should get a chance and be happy. Aidan himself said that Jules doesn’t want to go to a school for severely disabled children. There are schools for children with learning disabilities, yes. You saw how the children in the first kindergarten treated him later on. Cruelly. They despised him for no reason. I don’t want Jules ever to be treated like that again, not even despised or pitied. As you can see, he’s terribly unhappy.”

“If we seriously consider this, we have to deal with all the risks, consequences, and repercussions. A lot can go wrong. Our son could suffer negative harm, in the worst-case scenario, even die. You understand that, right?”

He looked at her. “I know!” he wept. She took his hand.

“I need to know everything about it. Until we know enough, we can’t make a decision. If we do, there’sno going back. We’d have to move, maybe leave our family for a while. And it must never come out…”

“I’ll gather every piece of useful information and do my research. If you say no, we won’t do it. I promise.” He squeezed her hand. “I’ve never been this scared, not even when Jules was born,” Richard admitted.

“I feel the same way. But we’ll get through this together, like we always have.” They kissed and fell asleep together.

Chapter Text

Diplomatic status brought certain advantages, as it represented a prestigious position. When Richard traveled to planets for professional reasons, no one questioned his motives. Research into technologies on non-Federation planets was equally unquestioned. He proceeded discreetly and also utilized contactshe had established. Meanwhile, Amsha, a biology teacher, conducted her own research into genetic engineering, including its benefits and risks. She now offered her services as a private tutor in the three subjects she taught (biology, mathematics, and English) and also gave private lessons to students.

One of these students had a father who was a scientist and knew a lot about genetics. The student came to the Bashirs' house for tutoring; conveniently, he lived nearby. Inevitably, he ran into Jules, who lived there.

"Your son is a funny little boy, Mrs. Bashir."

"Oh yes, he is."

"May I ask how old he is?"

"Jules is six, but he'll be seven in two months."

"He seems younger to me." Something changed slightly in Amsha's eyes, and the young man noticed itimmediately. "Is something wrong?"

“My son has some physical and mental disabilities. He’s in first grade. So far, he’s finding learning very difficult. Jules is trying to learn to read, write, and do math, but he’s hardly making any progress.”

“I didn’t know that. It must be very hard for you as parents…”

“It’s even worse for Jules. He’s suffering because of it. My husband and I have been trying to figure out how we can help him. The options are limited.” The student paused briefly before asking what was wrong with Jules. Amsha wasn't quite sure why she was talking to this student she was tutoring, but she trusted him and told him about the diagnosis, the steps they had taken, and the limitations.

"I've been looking into genetics; Richard meets with people from other worlds. I really shouldn't be talking about this..."

"You've been a great help, Mrs. Bashir. My father is a geneticist. Perhaps you'd like to meet him sometime?"

"Are you serious? Do you know what we're talking about?"

"I'm completely serious. I understand you're desperate. Think it over. You have my number."

“He really seems to want to help us. At least it can’t hurt to talk to this scientist. I haven’t called him yet. Or do you want to meet with him?”

“I want to find out more about him first, to make sure we’re not in danger of being reported. We’re not just risking jail time; the government will take our child away if our plans get out. Even if the man doesn’t intend to do that, we need to make sure he really knows what he’s doing,” Richard insisted.

“Good. I have another tutoring session with the student next week. If you find out more about his father by then, I can give him an update.”

“I can manage that. ... Um, Aidan is celebrating his birthday on Saturday. Of course, we're all invited. I see him much less often because of work; he's our brother-in-law and my best friend, so we're going. It's not easy for me to have to keep the genetic modification a secret from him, or rather, from our entire family…” His wife felt the same way, but it had to be done. They were both in agreement about that.

Everyone ate birthday cake at the party; Aidan had blown out the candles in the shape of the number 45. He was happy to be sitting with family and friends: his wife Sina, his daughter Amira, his son Meron, his nephews Maven and Ferrin with their mother Loraine, Amsha, Richard, Jules, as well as the grandparents and two friends of Sina and Aidan.

Afterwards, the guests dispersed, chatting, music playing, and dancing − especially the teenagers and young adults, who were having a wonderful time. Jules ran through the house and played hide-and-seek with his Aunt Loraine. Richard was talking to Aidan in a quieter corner.

"It's strange not seeing you as often since you became a diplomat. How are you?"

"I miss our runs through the park, just doing things together or chatting. At the same time, I really enjoy this job. It's demanding, but at the end of the day, I know what I'm doing it for. ... How am I? Well, I'm naturally worried about Jules's difficulties at school, as you know."

“I understand it’s too much for him to have to rehearse for a theater role on top of schoolwork. So, I don’t hold it against any of you. I think the picture he painted for me is lovely. How is he?”

“Jules seems very cheerful here, and maybe he is at the moment, but at home and at school he behaves completely differently.”

“That bad?”

Richard nodded. “He throws tantrums or starts crying.”

“Richard, this can’t go on. Should Jules just suffer for the rest of the school year?”

“No. Amsha and I are going to look for another school. We might have to move.”

Aidan patted him on the shoulder. “Go ahead. Anything that helps him is important. Just tell me where we can reach you when the time comes and you’ve found a new home.”

“Sure,” his friend smiled at him. “What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done for your family?”

“The craziest thing? When I went on vacation with my family to a clothing-optional hotel after Amira revealed to us that she’s a nudist and only wears clothes because of societal norms and for our sake. I tried to put myself in her shoes. At first, I felt a little strange on that vacation, but I got used to it quickly. She’s grown up now, lives in her own apartment, is doing an apprenticeship, and is happy. If you had to move to another planet, I’d be okay with it, but please stay in our quadrant if possible.” He laughed. Richard joined in.

Within a few days, Richard discovered quite a bit about the geneticist, such as that he was an expert inthe field of genetic research, had already published several papers, and had even worked for a Starfleet institution for years before leaving and retiring. The man's address was not on Earth. He couldn't trace where the man had moved. Amsha was to speak to the student about it; he would be there. After class, she did. Her husband introduced himself at the same time.

"Nice to meet you. My name is Richard Bashir. We'd like to find out more about your father. We already know a few things about him." The student told them more about the scientist. Mr. Rufford lived outside Federation space on Adigeon Prime, where genetic enhancement wasn't prohibited. The inhabitants of this world had a reputation for performing such manipulations, as well as plastic surgery.

"Why did your father leave Starfleet? According to the articles, he was highly regarded. How come?" Richard asked.

"He was primarily concerned with hereditary diseases and how to counteract them. At some point, other scientists and doctors felt he was overstepping the boundaries of what was 'ethically justifiable.' They forbade him from experimenting with or even researching genes. Our family was persecuted, sowe moved to Adigeon Prime. I went to school there and wanted to study human medicine after graduation and become a doctor. Hardly any people live on the other planet, and they don't specialize inhuman medicine there. So I changed my family name to be able to study on Earth undisturbed. I will settle here as a doctor. I had some gaps in my biology knowledge, which is why I'm taking lessons from your wife. ... Have you gathered enough information?"

“We have that. Richard has already visited the planet for work. He would meet him there.”

“I’ll speak with my father. He will contact you. You and Jules will probably travel to Adigeon Prime shortly after the meeting.”

The response came quickly via coded message to Richard's padd. Specific information about Jules's diagnosis, kindergarten history, and school report was requested. He sent the data back using the same encryption code. Then he received a reply telling him to come to Richard with Jules on a specified date.

There were two versions of the story: for outsiders like the school and the rest of the family, it was said that Jules had been struck by such a severe illness that it could not be treated by doctors on Earth. It had broken out suddenly. Allegedly, Richard had infected him during one of their trips, acting as a carrier. They told their son that he was traveling to another planet where doctors would help him become smarter and taller. He would have to stay there for a while. His parents couldn't both come with him, and his father would visit him occasionally, but he also had to work. Later, he would bring him back to Earth.

"Your mum calls you all the time, Jules. I'll help you pack your suitcase." The boy was a little hesitant but agreed anyway because he wanted to be like the other children. He packed Kukalaka. "He'll look after me when you're not here, Dad."

His father stroked his head. "I love you, Jules."

"I love you so much too," he said. Amsha put her son to bed; she saw him for the last time that day before he left with Richard the next morning. She had spent every day with her child until then. "He's fallen asleep." Tears welled in her eyes; she already missed him. Richard hugged her comfortingly.

"I'll take good care of him. I'll miss you," he whispered to her.

"I'll miss you too. We'll talk now and then, and I want to talk to Jules as well."

"Of course." They went to bed early. Richard and Jules had a journey ahead of them...

For the first time in his life, Jules saw space when he looked out the window: a dark background, stars, ships, and many other things he couldn't identify. They were leaving the Milky Way, their solar system ,in which Earth was located. Richard told him that they would meet a scientist from Earth on the planet who would help with the treatment. "The inhabitants aren't human, though; they're aliens. They look different and speak a strange language. You don't need to be afraid of them. They won't hurt you."

"Will what's being done hurt me?" Jules asked him.

“No, absolutely not. I wouldn’t allow that. You’ll feel different afterward. You might get a bit of a headache, maybe you’ll feel your bones and muscles more intensely. That’s nothing to worry about, okay? You can play there and the residents will take care of you while I’m gone.”

“Is it still far?”

“It’ll be a little while yet. Would you like something to eat?”

“Yes.”

They reached Adigeon Prime and landed in the designated spot. Richard took his documents and luggage. Jules pulled a small rolling suitcase. They transferred to another vehicle that took them to Mr.Rufford's accommodation. A hospital was located nearby where the scientist worked. Among otherthings, genetic manipulations were performed there. The man greeted them and led the two into the living room.

"Please, have a seat, Mr. Bashir. You too, Jules." Mr. Rufford seemed a little older than Richard; a few gray strands ran through his blonde hair. He had apleasantly calm, slightly deep voice.

"How do you know my name?" the boy asked.

“Your parents told me a few things about you. That way I can prepare with the doctors so we can help you.”

“Doctors?” he asked anxiously. Jules reached for his father’s hand. “Dad…”

“It’s a hospital where they do it. But it’s really nothing serious.” His son sniffed and trembled slightly. Richard promised to come with him, which reassured him.

The hospital seemed enormous to little Jules. You could easily get lost in it if you didn't know your way around. He was lying on an examination table. A cap with numerous openings was attached to his head, to which small measuring units were connected, like an EEG, which measures brain waves. Richard was holding Jules's hand; his cuddly toy was perched next to him on the table. Mr. Rufford was standing with two doctors at a machine that was connected to the measuring units by cables."It'll start as soon as I press the button. The first time, at the beginning, it might feel strange for you. That's normal, but it will be over quickly. You have to stay lying down for that long. It takes about twenty minutes. After that, that's it for today."

His son looked at his father and squeezed his hand. Jules' birth automatically came to mind as he held Amsha's hand. The next moment, the machine started. The boy grimaced slightly and squeezed his eyes shut. His discomfort was noticeable, especially since he was whimpering. Richard placed the teddy bear in the crook of his free hand.

The whimpering stopped after a few minutes; he was now breathing much more easily, and his body relaxed. The pressure of the child's hand lessened. "Is everything alright, Jules?"

"Yes, Dad." After the first treatment, Richard had to help him sit up. He remained seated for a while.

“Mr. Bashir, during DNA reorganization, new neural pathways are formed in the brain. The body needs a certain amount of time to adjust to the change. This growth requires energy. The brain's metabolism is initially slightly disrupted, which is why he feels a bit dizzy and possibly nauseous. Let's wait and see how things go for the next few minutes.”

Jules was allowed to get up. A nurse walked him down the corridor. “Will it be twenty minutes each time?”

“Approximately, yes. Sometimes more, sometimes less. That's the amount his body can handle daily. I don't want to overtax him.”

“I’m glad you’re concerned about Jules’ health and well-being. Unfortunately, it’s not always possible for me to visit him here every day. I work on the planet, but I’ll still be here several times a week.”

“Don’t worry. I want to help your son. I want him to be comfortable during his stay. I can put in touch with your wife so Jules can talk to his mother. I’m grateful to her for teaching my son. He’s getting the chance to learn the profession he wants and work where he chooses. Parents basically want their children to be happy, don’t they?”

Richard agreed.

Over the next two weeks, Jules' IQ increased by five points every day. He underwent tests and adapted to the accelerated growth of his nerve cells. Further genetic adaptations took place: height, weight, eyesight, hand-eye coordination, reflexes, and stamina were optimized. He was thus fundamentally transformed into a new person. In total, he and his father spent two months on Adigeon Prime.

On his seventh birthday, he returned to Earth. The Bashirs moved to a different city, and Jules attended a new school with forged certificates. Meanwhile, Amsha's tutoring student began medical school.

One thing remained with Jules that, in the past of human history, had been seen as a flaw or impairment, but was later renamed a different way of perceiving and interpreting things: his neurodifference. Over time, he became increasingly articulate, but his socio-emotional abilities lagged behind those of a person his age. Thus, a remnant of the former Jules still existed, which could not be corrected and should not have been changed, even if it had been possible.

Chapter Text

“I want to go back to the drama club with uncle Aidan,” Jules begged his parents. “Please, let me. It was fine before.” It became increasingly difficult for them to deny his wish. Switching to a new school in another city mid-year no longer caused him any problems: he learned to read, write, and do arithmetic in no time, became much more agile and athletic, and his height and weight were now in line with those of his peers.

“I miss him. I miss my aunts, cousins, and grandparents too.” Their son caught up on all his deficits and even improved. Acting in the plays hadn't harmed him. They knew they couldn't keep Jules hidden from the rest of the family forever.

“We'll allow it, but before you talk to Aidan, there's something important you need to know. He'll ask you where you've been and what happened to you − that's what we want to know…”

“What did you tell him?” Jules asked.

“That you weren’t feeling well and needed help quickly. They couldn’t help you on Earth. That’s essentially true. Your problem had to be solved on another planet.”

“You could have told him that.” Amsha took her son’s hand.

“Unfortunately, it wasn’t that simple. Look, some things are made unnecessarily complicated. We didn’t get the support we needed from the Federation, so we had toturn to another government. You’re still too young to understand the terminology, but that’s okay. The Federation doesn’t need to know. It’s just our business. You did receive medication on the planet for the symptoms you experienced, so you could feel better. You can tell Aidan about that.”

“Can’t he know that the doctors made me smarter and taller?” The question hung in the air like a heavy burden.

“He and the rest of the family don’t need to know. You’re better now, the rest is unimportant. It’s nobody else’s business where we’ve been and that you were in a hospital. Or what was done there. … Do you understand, Jules?” Richard looked at him intently.

“Yes, Dad, Mum. I’ll keep this to myself. Then I can get back to practicing my roles. I’m studying, doing my homework, and getting good grades. You’ll always be proud of me…”

“We are proud of you, Jules. You’ve been very brave undergoing the treatments. Two months awayf rom home…” Richard explained.

Jules’s suppressed emotions surfaced. He hugged his father; his mother put her arm around him.

The other Bashirs thought about the boy every day during his absence. Amsha's parents and her sister regularly inquired about him with her. The answers were not very satisfactory, but since she couldn't be there herself, they accepted them. Sina's husband, on the other hand, desperately wanted to speak with Richard when he simply flew away with Jules and he heard nothing more from them afterward. Fine, if a child becomes so ill that he needs to be cared for outside of Earth, he accepted that. If Richard himself carried the pathogen without becoming ill, but didn't want to infect his wife or have one of them and himself treated by doctors, that made sense. But why did he leave them all (except Amsha) in the dark?

They usually told each other everything, had known each other for 22 years, and had been friends forjust as long. Aidan thought about writing him a letter, asking the questions that were burning in his mind. He didn't have an address to send it to. After work, he spontaneously drove to his sister-in-law's house, whom he hadn't seen for a month. He rang the doorbell; even though he had a spare key, it was good manners for him not to enter his friends' home without reason. Amsha opened the door; her face changed from surprise to slight concern. Perhaps a guilty conscience?

She invited him in. He tried not to show his displeasure with the situation. “Aidan, have a seat. You could have called.”

“I know, Amsha. If you don’t have time −”

“No, it’s fine,” she waved it off. “You must have your reasons.”

He sighed. “I was afraid no one would answer. I can’t reach Richard. They’ve been gone for a month already, and I don’t know how they are.”

“Didn’t Sina tell you? We’ve been talking about this…”

“Of course she does. It doesn’t do me any good. I won’t have anything from it,” his voice sounded unusually harsh. Amsha instinctively flinched. She hastily cobbled together an explanation to appease him, but Aidan still seemed hurt. Finally, he pressed a letter into her hand.

“This is for Richard. Make sure he gets it. He should read it and reply. I’m his best friend. It’s not right of him to ignore me. I haven’t done anything to him. I’d understand anything, but I won’t be dismissed like this…” His hands clenched in his lap.

“He’ll get your letter,” she assured him. “I don’t know much more myself.”

“You would never leave Jules alone somewhere for so long. Don’t tell me anything. I’m not a monster who wants to make your pain worse. You’re moving, aren’t you?”

“We’re moving. We don’t really have a choice. This is for Jules.”

Aidan stood up. “Tell Jules we miss him. I’m going home now,” he said as he left. She closed the front door after he left. The letter on the living room table piqued her interest, and so she read it. He deserved an answer to his questions.

She activated her pad to contact her husband andtold him about Aidan’s visit. “I’ll write back. When he arrives, give him my reply.”

“I will.” She continued. “Were you with Jules today?”

“Yes. He’s starting to work with letters and numbers. His bone growth is progressing rapidly now. He’s getting stronger, too. His sense of balance isn’t quite right yet. The doctors are giving him medication for dizziness. But he can sleep. I was worried about that.”

“I miss you.”

“We feel the same way.” The transmission ended.

Sina and Aidan imagined their reunion with their nephew Jules as follows: they would recognize him immediately by his typical appearance, his gait, and the reserved, shy manner that gradually subsided. The illness must have weakened him, because it sounded quite serious. He knew Richard's reply to his letter by heart, having read it so many times. They were still friends, but he couldn't understand the secrecy surrounding their whereabouts.The boy in front of them was two heads taller. He politely extended his hand to his uncle in greeting. He smiled at her and hugged Sina. Jules's parents greeted them reservedly.

“I missed you,” her nephew said to his uncle and aunt. Their expressions softened his statement.

“We missed you too and worried about you and your father.” Aidan glanced at Richard. Jules seemed fine, judging by how he looked now. He asked about the children’s theater group he wanted to be in. His uncle was pleased. “The current play will be performed in a few days. After that, the season for a new one will begin. If you’d like, you can join the next one.”

“Oh, great! I’m so excited!”

“We don’t live in the same city anymore, but Amsha or I will take him.”

“Good,” Aidan said. “Can we talk in the kitchen?” He gestured in that direction; Richard followed him inside. Sina was playing something with Amsha and Jules in the living room.

The bright orange of the walls and kitchen tiles was strongly accentuated by the artificial light from the ceiling and wall lamps. They looked much better in natural sunlight.

“What really happened? Did you get into trouble? Did it have anything to do with your job? Why does Jules seem so… changed? His height, the way he talks… I want to understand.”

Richard remained silent for a long time. Finally, he revealed the truth on one condition: Aidan had to keep it to himself at all costs.

“…you had Jules genetically enhanced on Adigeon Prime? I… can hardly believe you had something like that done… Richard, that’s been declared illegal, and for good reason! His body and mind have been fundamentally altered. How could you do that?”

“Aidan, you didn’t have him with you day and night. He suffered every day at school and outside of it. It just kept getting worse.”

“You could have sent him to a special needs school, but you didn’t want to. Can’t you accept your son for who he was?”

“We did it because we love him. What would you have done in our place?”

"Well, I wouldn't have subjected my child to such a life-altering, risky, and illegal procedure! Jules wasn't in any danger. What an ordeal he must have endured. He's not even old enough to grasp the full implications. He'll have to lie for the rest of his life. I'd love to report you to the authorities, but firstly, I gave my word to keep quiet. Secondly, I don't want you in prison. Jules shouldn't grow up without his parents and the rest of his family, with some strangers or in state custody. His life shouldn't be ruined. But I won't lie to Sina. She won't betray me, I know that. And you and Amsha have something else to do."

“What?”

“You’re going to tell the rest of the family the truth as soon as possible. They’d realize something was wrong eventually anyway,” Aidan demanded.

“I can’t −”

“Yes, you can. Do you think our family would want you locked up? Your parents? It’s not just about your future. We’re all affected…”

Richard swallowed. “I’ll talk to the others.” He got up and left the kitchen. “Amsha, please let us go,” he asked his wife, turning toward the front door.

“Okay,” she replied. “Jules, will you come?”

“I have to say goodbye. Until next time, bye,” the boy said.

“Take care,” Sina said. Aidan came out of the kitchen.

“What did you talk about? Was anything wrong?”

“Richard told me the truth about his and Jules’ absence. I made him tell the rest of the relatives. But no one else is allowed know. Promise me.”

“I promise. Tell me everything you know.”

The rest of the family was equally unenthusiastic when Jules' parents told them about the illegal gentrification. Nevertheless, they remained silent. They couldn't undo what had happened. The blame rested on Amsha and Richard's shoulders. Their only consolation was that Jules was now coping better in many areas and progressing so quickly that he could soon have skipped a few grades.

They kept himin his current grade level so he could find friends his own age and make social connections. There was alot of catching up to do in that regard.

Over time, he played more demanding roles in the theater. He was interested in sports, where he could move around and let off steam. His parents gave him more schoolwork, as they noticed that his capacities and need for learning were expanding. Jules was already reading twice as fast as the average reading speed of a primary school child. Eventually, he knew all the children's books by heart.

His father's stories about visiting alien worlds captured his attention, and space became interesting to him. For his next birthday, Amsha and Richard gave him a tome about space, planets, solar systems, galaxies, and the universe itself. He would have plenty to read for a while.

The range of topics grew incessantly. He realized that he had learned more than his classmates. Could one perhaps know too much? He didn't want to stray too far from the other children. A friend of his played tennis, so they signed him up for tennis. He enjoyed it.

The next two school years flew by. Jules wished to travel to a new planet. Soon he was asking Richard every day to take him. Jules had almost finished the thick book about space. Amsha thought he was old enough to accompany Richard on this trip. They set off early.

The night before their departure, he had trouble falling asleep. The name of the planet was Invernia II.

Chapter Text

Jules celebrated his tenth birthday at home in England with his family and a few school friends. His friends heard about the trip Jules and his father were embarking on the next day, far from Earth. Each of them envied him for being able to have such an adventure. He absolutely had to tell them all about it as soon as he got back.

"It was great that you were here." Jules waved to the last friend, who was being picked up by his parents. His mother was standing in the doorway. "You'd better come inside now, it's cold outside."

Family members were still inside. His older cousins ​​were almost all leading their own lives as adults. His cousin Maven had graduated from high school that year; he was studying at a university and, at 18, was considered an adult. Because Jules had no siblings, he considered his closest relatives from his generation to be his siblings. He only knew Sina and Aidan's children as teenagers and young adults, with whom he had little in common. He felt closer to Maven and Ferrin, especially Maven.

"Tomorrow it begins. I know December 29th is hard for you, like every year. Dad and I will already be in space." His cousin patted him lightly on the shoulder.

“Father’s death anniversary was eleven years ago. I was just a child who couldn’t understand it. Ferrin doesn’t remember our father, he was so small back then. It was only a few years ago that I was able to grasp it…”

“Do you miss him?”

“Yes, but it’s different when you get older. He had an illness.”

“Why do you think my parents called me ‘Julian,’ even though everyone always calls me ‘Jules’?”

“Because your father loved his brother, as my mother always emphasizes. As the older brother, he looked after him. They say our father became ill as a child. He gained weight and suffered because of it, so Richard played sports with him when they were young. That helped, but our father’s heart eventually became too weak.”

“He had dark green eyes. You can see it in a photo. I inherited part of his eye color.”

“Are you excited about tomorrow?”

He thought about it. “A little. But I’m looking forward to discovering another world.” Maven looked around Jules’s room, where they were sitting undisturbed. “Do you know that you left Earth for a while three years ago?” The secret that every Bashir knew… The memories were rather faint.

Jules repressed some things from the past, including this chapter. “Yes. I don’t like talking about it. I had problems.”

“Just be careful when you’re on Invernia II. Don’t stay away for so long again,” Maven asked him.

“How long were we gone last time?” Jules asked.

“Two months.”

“That long?” It startled him for some reason. He suddenly burst into tears without knowing why. Maven took him in his arms, comforting him until he calmed down. “You’ve been through a lot. Your mother wasn’t with you, even though you could see and talk to each other. It must have been awful for you.”

Jules ran the back of his hand over his face. “Thank you, Maven.” The other smiled weakly and hugged him one last time.

“I hope you have a great time there. Unfortunately, I can’t come with you. My studies. I’m an adult now, Jules, and a man. In a few years, you will be too. You should enjoy these years as much as you can. Don’t forget that you can always come back to your family.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” His cousin went downstairs while he lay down on the bed. His teddy bear lay beside him. “You stay here and watch the house and mum for a while. Dad can protect me there. I’m not so little anymore, Kukalaka.” It took Jules some time to calm down before he could fall asleep.

Someone must have tucked him in, Jules thought as he woke up. He didn't want to waste any precious time, so he went through his morning routine and packed his things. Early on, Jules sat at the kitchen table with his parents. They had breakfast, and then Amsha checked her son's luggage to make sure he had everything. Saying goodbye wasn't so hard, since they were only going away for a few days.

Richard piloted the shuttle himself, which Jules found convenient. He observed what was happening outside the window. They passed planets, stars, moons, and other celestial bodies, maintaining the greatest distance from suns, whose unbearable heat, radiation, and light intensity proved hostile to almost every living thing in their vicinity. The ten-year-old associated this flight with boundless curiosity.

Of course, he also had to behave, which wasn't as difficult for him as it had been in the past. His father explained things to him related to his work as a diplomat. One needed patience, open-mindedness, and tact in this profession. “When we arrive, it will be late afternoon on Invernia II. We'll take our things to our accommodation. Not much else will happen that day. Tomorrow I have to work, but not all day. I've already managed to organize most things. While I'm away, you'll be in childcare there. You'll like it. There are other children from the Federation and from this planet. I'll pick you up after work.”

“Okay. Are there those invisible universal translators that translate languages?”

“Yes, they're found in most places where technology is installed. That's why you don't notice them. However, they don't exist here in nature. In my work, I often have to learn and speak other languages. There are cultures that require it.” Richard piloted the shuttle while Jules studied schoolwork and did homework. They reached the planet quite quickly and took their belongings with them. Jules absorbed his first impressions of the place. Evening fell. Jules was pleased to discover a replicator. His father used it to replicate a meal for both of them and something to drink. They usually said grace at the beginning and end of a meal, giving thanks for the food, as they did for this dinner. Richard thought about taking a bath after the day, something his son probably intended to do as well. The bathroom had a bathtub and a shower, but Jules felt it was wasteful for them to use two different bathrooms at the same time, since two of them could fit in one.

“As you wish,” Richard said. “I thought you’d like some peace and quiet. You have to decide that.”

“We can bathe together.” He got his pajamas and underwear, laid them out, and undressed. Richard had placed his nightclothes on the shelf in the bathroom and started running the water.

“You’ll get cold, Jules. It takes a while to fill the tub. Put on your bathrobe while you wait.” That's exactly what he did. Then they were finally able to get in. Jules leaned his back against his father'sbelly; he also liked to spend time alone with him. Richard sensed this, which was why he had taken him on the trip. Jules didn't remain a child forever and, as time progressed, developed into an independent being. The father was grateful for the moments when he still needed him.

The preparation for the talks between the two parties was worthwhile. Both sides held different view-points, but Richard got them to present their arguments and listen to those of the other side. Afterwards, he picked up Jules, who had spent a lovely day with the children at daycare. They spent time in town; towards evening, they went to a restaurant. “Many of the children also have parents who are diplomats. Some have already been to several planets.One boy had blue skin, white hair, and antennae on his head. I played with him today.”

“An Andorian. You must have read something about them in your book about the planets.”

He nodded. “What are we doing tomorrow for New Year’s Eve?”

“Tomorrow we’ll explore the natural beauty of Invernia II. It’s supposed to be an interesting area, or so I was told. Let’s finish our meal so I can pay, and then it’s back to our accommodation and off to bed. You need to sleep, otherwise you’ll be too tired to go for a walk tomorrow.” And so they set off on their way back.

New Year's Eve morning dawned sunny and pleasant. For their outing, Richard gathered some provisions, packed a picnic blanket, two jackets for cooler weather, and a first-aid kit, just in case. Beyond the village, there were hills, forests, hiking trails, bodies of water, and animals. Jules was excited to explore them all. Time passed so quickly that he didn't realize until later how long they had been hiking. A glance at the sky revealed a rapid change, bringing clouds, followed by a drop in temperature and strong winds. They put on their jackets and took refuge in a mountain cave.

The weather changed rapidly, turning into a storm. Rain showers poured down. They had to wait. Just as his father was about to get some food from his backpack for both of them, a sound broke through the air, seemingly coming from inside the cave. His son heard it with his enhanced hearing, which had always been sensitive enough to notice the slightest noise. "There's something in there, dad. Listen."

"I'll take a look. Please stay here for a while. If there's something dangerous in the cave, I don't want to put you in danger. If something happens to me, run away and try to get to town to ask an adult for help. Just tell them what's going on, and they'll help you."

"Then you'd better not go in there."

"It could be something harmless, or maybe someone's lost. I'll be right back."

Jules sat by the entrance, watching his father's darkening silhouette. He moved away until the boy could no longer see him. Despite his jacket, a chill ran through him; he shivered, feeling very uncomfortable being alone without an adult in this situation. He mentally recited number sequences, familiar songs, and lines from children's theater to distract himself. It wasn't long before Richard appeared with a girl in his arms who was about Jules's age. He gently laid her on the picnic blanket. His father explained to Jules that she came from this planet and that she wasn't well.

The sounds from the cave were coming from her, the boy realized, as she made further cries of distress. He was worried about the girl; Richard was communicating with her in Invernian and translating into English for Jules. She had gotten lost while playing in the cave after the weather turned bad and accidentally strayed too far from home. She had started to feel unwell.

"Has she lost her parents?" he asked.

"She can't find her way home. Her parents must be there. ... I have no idea what's wrong with the girl. There are herbs growing in the cave, but I don't know anything about them. We'll have to wait until the storm outside passes before we can get help." Richard placed a hand on her burning forehead. He gave her water from his bottle to drink. Jules tried toget the girl's attention by reciting clapping rhymes, in which you had to clap your palms together quickly in a certain way. He had observed girls in his class playing such games.

The storm subsided, but in her current state, Richard couldn't take her with him. It was anything but easy for him to leave the two children in the cave, but at least they wouldn't be alone. “Jules, I’ll come back as quickly as possible with some locals, but I must ask you to stay with the sick girl. I know that’s asking a lot. She’s too weak to be carried around.”

“I’ll stay with her. You must hurry, okay?” His eyes were filled with fear.

“I’ll hurry.” Richard placed a comforting hand on his son’s shoulder and left the two of them.

While Richard ran madly through nature, desperately trying to remember the way to their shelter, the ten-year-old stayed with the girl, who was growing weaker. He took her hand and stroked it. He searched his mind for any information on how to help her, but found nothing. All he could think of was a song in his language, which he sang to her. After a while, she blinked, her body twitched, she gasped for air, and tears streamed down her face.

Jules felt an overwhelming fear for her, unable to do anything. He cried out for help. The pressure of her hand eased, and she no longer moved. Jules let out a pained cry, aware that she was dead. In the distance, he heard noises from outside. Several men were gathering around them. One of them took him tightly in his arms: his father.

"My boy. I couldn't come here any faster, please forgive me..." He wept for the girl's death, which he had witnessed.

“Mr. Bashir,” one of the guides said to him in their language, “we arrived too late. My colleague found herbs that would likely have alleviated her illness for a few hours. During that time, she could have been taken to the hospital for further treatment, where her life would have been saved. You didn’t know that. Please don’t blame yourself.”

This realization didn’t really help him; instead, it crushed him. The men carried her body out and took it away; a guide escorted Richard and Jules back. His son now knew the truth about what would have helped her.

The boy kept crying, which his father couldn't blame him for. Sleep was out of the question so close to the New Year, because of the terrible emotions they were going through. He spoke from his connection to Amsha, who thought it best if they left for Earth, since he had finished his work on Invernia II and no one would hold it against him after what had happened.

"Do you want to go home? We can fly back anytime, you hear?"

"Yes, I want to go back to Earth. I can't sleep here," Jules whimpered. "Are we flying right now?"

"We are. Our things are already packed. Come on, let's go." Outwardly, Richard appeared composed, but inwardly he felt deep regret. The destination entered, their shuttle flew on autopilot. He had to take care of Jules, who only fell asleep hours later from exhaustion.

Wide awake, he stared at the displays; midnight ushered in the new year. He sank into the pilot's seat, where the tears finally found their way out and he began to sob uncontrollably at the top of his lungs.

Chapter Text

Several weeks passed during which Richard Bashir withdrew from his position as a diplomat and decided to give up the post altogether. Although he enjoyed his work and was good at it, he had failed as a father on Invernia II in his duty to protect Jules from the traumatic experience of witnessing the death of another inhabitant. A girl they couldn't save. He was occasionally plagued by nightmares, and Jules fared little better.

He no longer touched the thick book about space that his parents had given him. In the summer of that year, the boy was moving up to a higher grade at secondary school. His parents knew he would soon enter puberty. They wanted to talk to him about it. Sex education was coming up at school anyway.

Jules put down his pen when there was a knock at the door. “May we come in?”

“Yes, of course.” Amsha and Richard sat down on the edge of the bed. He turned to face them in the chair at the desk.

“My homework is done. I wrote a little bit in my diary…”

“You’re quite diligent, as we know. We’d like to talk to you about something that will become relevant to you in the next few years. To everyone your age. The time when children mature into adults. It’s called puberty. People between about 10/11 and 17 are usually called teenagers; young adults are sometimes called "growing ups". They’re roughly between 18 and their early 20s. There are a few things you should know about when you enter puberty. It’ll be talked about it in class soon. We want you to know that you can talk to us about it and ask questions. We’ll answer them. You should be informed in an age-appropriate way.”

Jules looked at her. “I recently read one of your biology books, mum. There was a chapter about the human body, the differences between men and women in their anatomy. Then about reproduction, pregnancy, and birth.”

“It was only a matter of time before you wanted to learn about it. I'm sure you still have questions about one thing or another, or there are other topics you'd like to know more about. That's what we're here for.”

“Well, I do have a few questions…” He blushed slightly. Instead of speaking, he scribbled on a blanksheet of paper he handed them. They briefly glanced over the things Jules wanted to know about.

“That’s really detailed. I’ll start then,” Richard began the explanatory conversation.

His parents were able to answer his questions. What surprised him was how easy it felt to talk to them about it. Jules now knew more about the changes his body would undergo in the coming years, as well as the social and emotional aspects of growing up. Certain hormones that his body would begin producing more of would also affect his mood. Sooner or later, Jules would feel attracted to others and fal lin love.

"Can I have children naturally later on as an adult if I want to?"

"That shouldn't be a problem, I think. You still have plenty of time." Amsha smiled at him.

"Why did you choose this particular time to discuss this topic?"

“We think you’re at the age where you’re gradually being confronted with this. Your classmates at the new school are going through the same process as you. It can’t hurt for you to learn things from us that aren’t in books. We also want to help you make smart decisions.”

“It’s kind of preparation for life. If you know how best to react in certain situations, you can act accordingly. Now you also know what’s okay and what isn’t.” He was beginning to understand that they were giving him more freedom.

Jules was able to travel to school and the children's theater independently, using the familiar routes either by bike or the programmable transport vehicles or the train. Tennis took place twice a week in the school gymnasium in the afternoons. Because of his age, he moved to the youth group of the theater. His father often saw the plays, as he was no longer involved in his profession. They would then travel together.

After today's rehearsal, Richard took him with him and told him that he was taking a course in landscape architecture to work in that field.

"You're not a diplomat anymore?"

“No. I gave up that position. I work here on Earth as a landscape architect. There’s a need for landscape design. I noticed it while jogging through the city parks with Aidan.”

“I’m glad you’re staying here. Otherwise, I’d have to worry about you when you’re gone,” Jules confessed.

“You don’t need to worry about me. That’s not your responsibility, it’s your mother’s and mine to take care of you. When we’re old and you’re grown up, it’ll be different. Still, that’s a very thoughtful though tof yours.”

“Does it take long to learn what you want to do?”

“Not as long as my previous studies. I’m looking forward to it.”

“I think I want to learn something practical later on, something I’m good at and enjoy. Then one job will be enough for me.”

“You still have years before you have to decide on a career path. Until then, you can study and pursue your hobbies.” They walked the rest of the way home. At home, Amsha cooked something to eat. During dinner, she shared the news that she was switching from private tutoring back to teaching at a school. She wanted to teach students in the upper grades, from 5th grade through graduation.

“Which school will you be going to?”

“The school you’re going to has a very good reputation. I’ll be working there, but I won’t be teaching you because we’re related and I’m not allowed to grade you. I hope that’s okay with you.” Jules needed time to process this; he hadn't expected it. Out of politeness, he agreed. He didn't want to hurt his mother by giving the impression that she might be unpleasant to him. He admired her for her intelligence, kindness, and beauty, but he didn't want to tell her.

Changes were coming his way. But his parents were finally able to fulfill their potential. They did a lot for him.

Toward evening, Jules lay awake. The pages of his diary filled up. What profession would I choose? Jules ended his diary entry with this question. His faithful teddy bear sat on a shelf above the bed, where he could see it. He no longer took the bear to bed with him. It seemed silly to him. He looked at the stitches he had sewn through the fabric years ago. Since then, an eternity seemed to have passed.

He had never completely broken the habit of sleeping with the nightlight on. He hadn't needed the light for a long time. He could cope with the darkness, so he turned the light off.

The next morning, Jules inquired about the student Amsha had been tutoring at home for a while. He wondered what had become of him. "The young man is studying medicine so he can become a doctor."

"Oh, I see." The boy noticeably paled. The medical profession filled him with respect. On the one hand, these people possessed the knowledge to heal and treat the sick and injured. On the other hand, they could just as easily use their knowledge to cause harm. To him, doctors wore coats, sometimes facemasks, gloves, handled syringes, medical instruments like scissors or knives, and administered mysterious mixtures, remedies, and medicines.

“Are you okay, Jules?” Amsha felt her son’s forehead.

“It’s nothing. I was just thinking about something that scared me.”

“What were you thinking about?” Should he tell her?

“I’m afraid of… doctors.” A silence fell over them.

“I didn’t know that. Has it always been like this?”

“No, not always. I wasn’t afraid of my previous pediatrician. It’s only been like this since we traveled to this planet, to Adigeon Prime. Every day I lay on the examination table with a cap on my head, connected by wires to a strange machine that sent signals to my brain, and I couldn’t understand what was happening to me. I didn’t like it at all, but I endured it because it was expected of me…”

“Jules, I’m sorry I wasn’t with you during that time. I can tell you that the Federation doctors have sworn a Hippocratic Oath to do no harm and to respect life. Generally, most of them adhere to it.” He had no choice but to trust his mother’s words and believe her. It wasn’t easy for him to entrust his health to someone else after his stay on Adigeon Prime. He would take care of his well-being, consciously eat a healthy diet to avoid getting sick and, if possible, not develop diabetes like his father’s brother, who died prematurely at the age of 30.

Jules began to focus on health and, besides tennis, took up other sports, such as jogging with Richard. He even got his uncle Aidan to jog with Richard again, since the two of them hadn't been able to do it together anymore, probably due to the distance between them. With increasing activity, Jules almost managed to keep up with the two adults; it hardly tired him out anymore. He attributed this to the result of running regularly. Things were going well for him at school and at home.

Richard completed the course. Jules was soon able to admire the fruits of his father's labor when he visited the central city park. A truly beautiful park where visitors felt comfortable. The park became his place of recreation and retreat. He was proud of his father, who could transform neglected and barren places into something flourishing.

Chapter Text

When Jules transitioned to secondary school, some of his friends ended up in the same class, while others were distributed among the parallel classes. Depending on their academic progress and grades,the students could take advanced courses instead of basic courses. Jules thus participated in the advanced courses in most subjects.

Occasionally, he ran into his mother at school, whom he greeted; sometimes they chatted briefly. His ability to learn quickly, read, and remember improved again. Over time, his physical fitness became so robust that he could engage in athletic activities for hours without tiring. Gradually, he, like his classmates, began to experience the first signs of puberty, which his parents had discussed with him and which Jules covered in sex education classes at school: he examined his body in front of the bathroom mirror. His genitals began to grow, and the first pubic hairs appeared. He now definitely wanted his privacy at home, which is why he showered and bathed alone. However, Jules tolerated contact with peers in this regard after school sports, swimming lessons, or leisure activities when they used communal showers.

He now spent a lot of time with friends, somewhat less with family, but he still enjoyed visiting his relatives and maintained a close relationship with his uncle Aidan, who always supported him. For some inexplicable reason, a distance developed between Aidan and Jules' father, Richard, during which they hardly saw or spoke to each other. Jules was all the more relieved when the two men resumed their shared hobby of jogging.

One afternoon, he helped Aidan prepare the scenery on stage. “People forget how much work theater requires. It’s not just about writing a play, casting roles, and supporting the actors. Sets have to be conceived and built, backdrops painted, props made, sound effects and music created, organizational tasks… the list goes on.”

“Costumes are another thing,” added Jules, who was painting a piece of wood.

“That’s right. The years in the theater have taught you a lot. I hope you enjoyed performing here. As a small child and later at school, it wasn’t exactly easy…”

“Yes, I know. I enjoyed it and still enjoy playing a role.”

“That makes me happy.” Aidan smiled to himself.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure. Go ahead and ask.”

“Did you and my father ever have a fight about anything? Because you didn’t do anything together for a while. I find that strange, since you’re good friends.”

“We did have a fight. Actually, it was about one person. It was a few years ago,” Aidan admitted openly.

Jules thought for a moment. “It wasn’t about me, was it?” His uncle’s face became serious.

“Uncle Aidan, please!”

He cleared his throat. “Richard and I had a disagreement about your earlier difficulties in primary school. Perhaps you remember something about it.”

“I talked to you about my concerns when I started school. You told me not to worry. I could go to a special needs school if school became too difficult for me.” He paused. “It was too difficult.”

“I know. Richard told me how hard you struggled to learn the basics. You just couldn’t manage it. You struggled so much.” The boy clenched his fists. “Jules, it wasn’t your fault, do you hear? Your parents didn’t want to send you to a special needs school. They were convinced you could manage. I asked your father not to hurt you by pushing you too hard.”

“I was ashamed in front of my parents and my teacher of failing at school. It was clear from the very first day. It didn't get any better, no matter how much my mother practiced with me. I was miserable and sad.”

“That's what Richard told me, and I told him they had to come up with something to make you feel better. I thought they would find a special needs school for you, but they didn't. Instead, your father lied to all of us with a story to explain why he had stayed away from Earth with you for so long. After your return, I realized something was wrong. I confronted Richard, and he confessed what really happened. He shouldn't have done that. That's why I was angry with him, but never with you. You were far too young to understand what had happened to you. It changed your life.”

Jules nodded. His eyes burned; he tried to pull himself together. “It wasn’t always pleasant. I wasn’t in pain, but there were still side effects. Sometimes my head ached, I felt nauseous, occasionally I had to vomit. From time to time I suffered from dizziness and balance problems. Worst of all was not having my mother with me.”

Aidan handed him a tissue. “You needed her at that age. She’s one of the most important people in your life. Come here.” He hugged Aidan tightly and for a long time. He dabbed his moist eyes with the tissue. “I’m twelve now. Even though I’m older and have learned a lot, I still need my parents. Why is that?”

His uncle pulled away from the hug. “They’re helping you through an important developmental phase you’re going through on your way to becoming a man. A child needs their parents’ love. They love you. Your whole family loves you.”

“Thank you, Aidan. I love my family too.”

For the next three years, there seemed to be nothing in school, sports, or theater that Jules couldn't achieve. His friends were now forming romantic relationships with people they were falling in love with. He certainly felt interest in girls his own age. However, the feeling of being in love didn't develop. A few days ago, his voice had changed, becoming noticeably deeper. The growth spurt had begun, but he was hardly getting more muscular. Jules was rather thin. He worried that he might be producing too little testosterone or that he looked too feminine. His father then reassured him that everything was fine.

“I don’t think girls find me attractive. And I haven’t fallen in love yet either,” he said, hanging his head.

“My son, you’re a handsome young man with good manners, a big heart, and a brilliant intellect. The girls will recognize that. You just haven’t met the lady of your dreams yet. I fell in love with your mother when I was 21.”

“Haven’t you ever been with another woman before her?”

“No. It didn’t come up. I can’t complain.”

“Does that mean you didn’t sleep with any other woman before her? So you were a virgin when you had sex with her?”

“That’s right. Admittedly, I was nervous. Who wouldn’t be? Amsha told me she felt the same way. Our first time was relatively short. We needed some practice. That didn’t harm our relationship.”

“Last year you celebrated your silver wedding anniversary.” His son smiled.

“A lovely memory. Along with our wedding and your birth, those are the most beautiful experiences for us. Did you know that Ramadan starts the day after tomorrow? Exactly on Christmas Day this year.”

“No way, right? You’re going through with it like this − fasting until Christmas Eve? Aidan isn’t fasting, but Sina is. I don’t understand it. They’re married, after all.”

“Aidan is Christian; Sina, like us, practices Islam alongside Hinduism. It is his right to follow the faith he identifies with.”

“Then why did Aidan get circumcised? It’s common practice where we come from, but less so for him.”

“He probably wanted it that way… We fast during Ramadan. If you want to, you can fast too. From the age of 15, you are free to do so or wait. I know you won’t be 15 for another five days. The decision is yours. From a health perspective, there’s no reason not to. In our faith, you’ll then be considered an adult. Legally, only at 18.”

“If I do this, will I automatically fast during the following month of fasting, once a year?”

“Yes. There’s no reason not to observe the religious fast, unless it endangers your health. For example, pregnant women don’t fast.”

“I’ll do it.”

“We’ll help you. You get used to it.”

December 25, 2356, two days later:

This Christmas, they met at the home of Amira Bashir, Jules's only female cousin, the daughter of Sina and Aidan. The grandmothers and their daughters, as well as his aunt Loraine, crowded the kitchen, while the grandfathers and the remaining men gathered in the living room, where there was much to talk about.

In the midst of it all, Jules spotted Amira in a maternity dress; her belly was clearly visible. He hadn't known anything about her pregnancy. He greeted her joyfully. "You've pulled off a surprise."

"I wanted to surprise the rest of the family who didn't know yet," Amira beamed. "Mara is so happy that we're having a baby."

“So you got pregnant through a donor, I assume, since you’re both women,” her cousin concluded.

“Yes. We want to get married after the baby is born, about a month later.”

“Then you’re obviously not fasting, unlike me…”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, that means your parents have allowed you to fast. They think you’re mature enough. I’m happy for you.” Jules looked at her belly. “If you ever want to feel…”

“Really? May I?” he asked cautiously.

“You may.” He placed a hand on her belly. He felt movement from inside.

"Your baby is kicking quite a bit." She laughed. "Oh yes, it is. A lively child."

Her brother Meron joined them. "Well, Jules, do you know the good news now? My sister is going to be a mother!"

"I bet it'll be the only thing anyone talks about for months, knowing our family."

"That's just how they are. Their grandchildren are already grown up. Even our Jules here. You were quite a tiny baby when Richard and Amsha showed up with you in the basket. Really cute," Meron said. His cousin waved him off, a little embarrassed.

"That was a long time ago. I'm not really one to dredge up old stories. My parents are having a meditation session soon, and I'm going to join in. How aboutyou?"

"I'd love to."

Meditation helped Jules focus on the purpose of the religious abstinence from food and drink during the day. Because of the cold season, he felt his thirst less intensely. With his eyes closed, he isolated his thoughts about these basic needs, pushed them away, far away. His body felt light, as if floating; completely relaxed, he let go, relinquished control.

"Oops, what just happened?"

"What...?" blinked Jules, coming out of meditation.

“It’s okay,” he heard Meron say beside him. “Don’t stare so obviously.”

At first, he didn’t understand what was happening until he saw the obvious with his own eyes. A bulge formed in his crotch, which became wet. The next moment, the semen spilled into his pants.

“No!” he cried, jumping up and storming out of the room, the door slamming shut.

“Someone should go after him.”

“I’ll do it, he’s my son.”

“Wait, I’ll come with you,” said Meron.

They searched the house for him. “The bathroom door is locked. I think he’s in there,” Richard whispered. His nephew opened the door with a spare key; they went inside. Jules was squatting in the bathtub, fully clothed, with his back to the door. He rested his head in his palms.

“Jules?” He didn’t answer. “It’s not as bad as you might think. It’s human. Our bodies don’t always behave the way they should,” Richard told him.

“None of us can claim that something similarly unpleasant has never happened to us in front of others,” Meron added.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” Jules replied.

“Nonsense. I was serious. You're almost there. One hour until breaking the fast. I'll get you some spare clothes, you can take a shower, then we can have dinner with the others. No one will say anything to you about it.” His cousin put a hand on his shoulder.

“Meron is right. Can you manage? I think so. We'll leave you alone for now and he'll bring you the clothes, okay?” Jules nodded weakly.

A short time later, the teenager had calmed down and ate dinner with the rest of the family. A thousand thoughts raced through his mind about the numerous changes that were happening so quickly. Was it normal to ejaculate without consciously triggering it? He hadn't even been aroused beforehand. It confused him. What good were the conversations if he was ultimately at the mercy of his body's whims?

After sometime, they all went to bed; sleeping arrangements were made. Meron turned to Jules to check on him. "Are you feeling better?"

“A little. I’m pretty tired.”

“I believe you. Rest. Tomorrow can only be better.”

He closed his eyelids and fell asleep. When he woke up, he was refreshed and ready for the second day of his fast.

Chapter Text

The rest of the year 2356 passed rather uneventfully and mostly peacefully: Jules celebrated his 15th birthday, they commemorated the anniversary of Richard's brother's death, and celebrated New Year's Eve. The Bashirs watched the grand light show outside in London with great interest. They wished each other a Happy New Year.

That night, the stars and moon were clearly visible in the cloudless sky. A shooting star streaked past Jules, causing him to pause for a moment and make a wish. "You saw it too, didn't you?" he asked his parents.

“We did. If you believe in it, it’s supposed to grant a wish. For my part, I have everything I ever wanted. A wife, a son, friends, a home on a beautiful planet, and a job I love.” Richard kissed his wife warmly.

“My wish for every year is that we all do well, that we stay happy and healthy, and especially our son,” explained Amsha, looking directly at Jules. “That’s a lovely request,” her son said softly. “My request is more about the near future, what I’m going to do. I’m not entirely sure yet, though. There are several options; I’m still a little undecided.”

“When you’re ready, let us know so we can talk about it. The school also has information about career paths and internships.”

“I’ll let you know.” The three of them started back home as the last lights of the New Year’s celebration danced across the sky.

Back home, Jules went straight to sleep. He had eaten and drunk so much that it was enough for him.

School started again in a week after the Christmas holidays. An important topic was to be discussed in history class, the sound of his teacher's voice echoed in his head. He found history topics interesting. The Earth's past held a certain fascination, but future developments interested him no less. Back at school, Jules listened attentively to the teacher, who presented them with a lengthy text from the 20th century, which they worked through. There were many pictures and recordings from that time.

They had finished the major wars, the First and Second World Wars, which took place on Earth. They had also completed the next topic, the Cold War, so now they were moving on to the Eugenics Wars.

The subject matter somehow preoccupied him. It belonged to another dark chapter of human history. They had to write an essay about it, for which he researched in the school library. In addition to the historical aspects, Jules researched the scientific facts of that era as well as the legal implications of genetically modified humans. Above all, a certain Khan Noonien Singh.

He soon had gathered all the information he needed for his essay − almost all of it. He was missing one tiny detail: who could actually carry out such genetic manipulations, which were only permitted in extremely exceptional cases. Strangely, Jules couldn't find anything about this. He wrote something down about the prohibition and the penalties. His text seemed incomplete to him without mentioning those who were capable of doing it. He assumed they were scientists; perhaps doctors also had something to do with genetic manipulation. He put the document in his schoolbag. If he didn't find a satisfactory answer to his question in the books, then perhaps he would in the computer database. The computer science courses Jules was taking were paying off.

To be on the safe side, and also for legal reasons, he accessed his father's information resource, which his father frequently used during his time as a diplomat, instead of the public school server. With it, he could, for example, retrieve necessary information about other planets, file work reports, and much more. Although he no longer had the diplomatic license, his son managed to recover some old data that Richard had once saved. In fact, it seemed his father had dealt with it himself. He found the information he was looking for, but at the same time, quite a bit more that made him stop and think.

Suddenly, Jules was reading a medical report about himself, written when he was four years old. He couldn't stop himself from reading everything that was written about him, and the more he learned, the clearer Jules saw the harsh truth about his past, his parents, himself, why he was on Adigeon Prime, what happened to him there, and the reason for the distance between Richard and Aidan. All his improvements, from a learning-disabled schoolchild to a highly gifted high-flyer, to... superhuman, an Augment. Was there any proof of that? How could he verify it? On the other hand, the documents noted what changes had been made to him on the alien planet: quite a few...

Jules felt shaken by the extent of what they had done to him through genetic manipulation. They had used him for their experiments, creating a completely new person. A new Jules?  No, his old self had been destroyed. Jules no longer existed; instead, there was Julian.

His real name from birth. He couldn't possibly be Jules, because the real Jules died in 2340 from an illness. His uncle, whom he never knew. I am Julian, the unnatural freak, the monster!

He copied the data to his USB drive and erased all traces. Then he leafed through the script of his current theater role. He wanted to ask Aidan for a more suitable role in this play. Knowing his uncle, he would give him the part without asking too many questions. Actually, Julian would have loved to become a professional tennis player, but he could forget about that for good. Any sports career was out of the question.

What alternatives did he have left? he asked himself. This role will be the last one I play at the theater. No more pretending. Everyone should know what he really was...

Julian knew the lines for his new role by heart, he had internalized the character, and rehearsed the scenes of the insane figure. The final scene, in which he used the harmless prop knife to cut the white fabric he was wearing in two, was crucial. The school performance took place in the auditorium. Aidan instructed the lighting technician on the settings. The audience sat in their seats, with Julian's parents in the center. At the beginning, Aidan stood in front of the stage, and the play began. Underneath his costume, Julian held the knife, which he had secretly swapped for the prop. He had to do it. He wanted proof that a remnant of humanity still remained within him, that he was vulnerable and mortal...

He was called up and played his part in the final scene. His heart pounded unusually fast and violently in his chest due to the fear coursing through his veins. Even while playing tennis, his pulse only increased minimally, which was abnormal. The sheer fear of pain was now driving him on.

Julian took a deep breath, let out a mad man's scream, and with a practiced movement, slashed his clothes. The knife slid further through the bare skin into his abdomen. He gripped the handle and moved it before a tremendous pain gripped him. The terrified expression of his uncle was imprinted on his mind just before black spots danced before his eyes and he collapsed unconscious.

When the audience realized that the knife was real, just like the blood gushing from the wound of the young man who collapsed before their eyes, screams rippled through the crowd. Other actors crowded around their colleague, wanting to help. Aidan ran onto the stage.

“Call an ambulance, now!” he shouted, bending over his nephew, who was lying on his stomach. He and another student gently turned him onto his side. Someone called the ambulance. Amsha and Richard were now standing right next to Aidan and their son.

“He’s naked,” a student remarked.

“Make way for the paramedics!” the headmaster instructed those standing around. Richard covered his son’s naked body with his own coat.

“Hang in there, Jules. You have to hang in there,” Aidan pleaded with his nephew. Amsha was crying.

The paramedics arrived and administered first aid with blood transfusions, then he was taken to the nearest hospital. His parents followed. His uncle first had to bring order to the chaos at the school stage. As soon as he had finished, he also planned to go to the hospital.

Dr. Burgen, the assistant doctor, took over coordination of the emergency department today. They received an emergency call about a seriously injured teenager, so everything was prepared. According to the report, the injuries were self-inflicted with a sharp knife in the abdomen. There was significant blood loss, which had to be compensated for with two units of O-negative blood.

"Patient's name?"

"Bashir, Julian Bashir."

"Age?"

"15."

The ambulance arrived with the injured person, who was covered only by a piece of clothing; the knife was still embedded in his body. The doctor and his colleagues focused on providing medical care to the patient. A nurse obtained a surgical gown and underwear for Julian. He was operated on immediately and taken to a hospital room.

His parents had arrived in the meantime. Due to the significant blood loss, Richard donated half a liter of B-negative blood, Julian's blood type. Amsha kept vigil at the bedside of her deeply sleeping son. Examination of Julian's internal abdominal organs revealed that they were already healing. Dr. Burgen spoke with Richard Bashir, who was recovering from donating blood.

“Mr. Bashir, your son is a medical miracle, do you know that? He was incredibly lucky.”

“Doctor, we don’t know why Jules injured himself. He was acting in a play in the school production. He’d never done anything like that before.”

“I believe his motive lies within himself.”

“What do you mean? You don’t even know him.”

“Mr. Bashir, it’s been many years since I first met Jules. He was very young then, six years old. I was taking private lessons from your wife, who told me about his difficulties. My father, the genetics scientist, helped your son on Adigeon Prime…” Richard finally understood and looked shocked. “Mr. Rufford is your father. You were the student, and you know the secret about Jules…”

“Yes. I’m now an assistant doctor at this hospital and practice under a different last name than my father. He was being pursued by the authorities, but thankfully he was able to find a new home on Adigeon Prime. You don’t need to worry about the illegal augmentation. No one will find out. I’ll down-grade Jules’ injuries in the medical report.”

“I’m relieved. What happened to him?”

“I think he figured it out, which triggered his crisis. Your son will initially be admitted to a psychiatric hospital after his recovery, as he was a danger to himself. I will make contact with him there and talk to him. Once he is mentally stable, he can be released back into your care. I sense that you both love him and will take care of him when he returns, don’t you?”

“We will. I’d like to see Jules in his hospital room now, please.”

“This way.”

Chapter Text

The nurse on duty checked the young patient's vital signs in his hospital bed. Two thin tubes were draining fluids into and out of his body. He was still asleep but would soon wake up. The blood loss and the procedure were taking their toll. "Under the circumstances, he's quite stable. His blood sugar is a little low."

"That's due to the fasting," Dr. Burgen explained to the nurse. "You told me that your son, like yourself, is currently observing the month of fasting. He hasn't eaten nor drunken anything during the day, is that correct?" the doctor asked the Bashirs.

"He hasn't. Is that a problem?"

“Not generally, but we’ve already given him blood, painkillers, and more fluids. He’s also receiving the nutrients he needs, so for health reasons, Jules can’t continue fasting.”

“Of course. His recovery is more important. We understand that.” Richard Bashir held his wife in his arms; she had placed one hand on their son’s. Her husband tried to comfort her. “We want to talk to Jules briefly as soon as he wakes up. He shouldn’t feel alone in the hospital after this incident.”

“Jules should be awake soon. The pain medication might make him drowsy, and he might not fully understand you. This effect is temporary and will go away. You can talk to him, but please don't say anything long or complicated. He needs to recover. You may visit him again tomorrow.”

A hand grasped his. He felt the slight pressure along with another sensation somewhere in his abdomen. “Aah…,” Julian groaned. It hurt. Automatically, his free hand moved toward the wound, which was wrapped in bandages. It didn’t get that far. Someone stopped him.

“Don’t. You mustn’t take the bandages off,” he heard his father say. Julian blinked dazedly through a veil of tears and whimpered.

“You’re in the hospital. We’re here with you.” His mother dabbed his eyes so he could see.

“It… hurts,” he muttered in pain. “My stomach.”

Richard pressed the call button. The nurse appeared in the room. "He's complaining of pain. Can you help him?" She gave him another dose. "That's all we can do today. We've reached the maximum. The machine only delivers a certain amount to prevent an overdose. If he doesn't get better, a doctor will have to adjust the dose."

"Thank you, nurse." He became quieter, unable to really talk to his parents, let alone listen to them. Looking up at the ceiling was the easiest thing he could manage. Amsha neatly smoothed a few strands of his hair, Richard sat on the left side of the bed without speaking. After a while, Julian fell asleep. They told the doctor they were going home.

Dr. Burgen received a call from patient information about another visitor for Julian Bashir. Visiting hours were ending in an hour, so he allowed it in light of the special circumstances.

"I couldn't come earlier, unfortunately, because I'm in charge of organizing theatrical productions and I had some tidying up to do. Besides, I'm his uncle."

"Your nephew made it through, but only just. He's asleep now. Please sit with him." He sat down by the bed; the doctor left them alone.

In the following days, Julian's physical recovery progressed. Several family members visited him, in addition to his parents and his uncle Aidan. The transfer to the psychiatric ward worried him because hedidn't know if the augmentation had been discovered. What if he had to live in such a facility for the rest of his life? But he simply lacked the energy to rebel. So he followed the instructions, underwent tests, filled out questionnaires, and swallowed the pills he was given. The emergency room doctor, Dr. Burgen, came by to check on him.

"You're noticeably better, I've been told. I'd like to take a look at the injury, if that's alright." The other nodded and pushed up the top. The doctor removed the bandages. The skin left no scars, as if nothing had happened. He palpated the area, scanning the inside with a medical tricorder. "I know that wasn't an accident with the knife. Your wound isn't healing as usual, and we both know why. You maybe different, but you're not invulnerable. A little deeper and you would have bled to death. Fortunately, your father has the same blood type and Rh factor, so he was able to donate blood to you. Tell me, why did you hurt yourself like that?"

He shook his head, the fear of being exposed overwhelming him.

“It’s important. ... Julian, I know your secret and I know what’s going on. Your life isn’t forfeited because of this. You know it yourself by now, don’t you? I’ve assured your father that I won’t tell anyone, and I’m happy to repeat that in your presence. You’ll get out of here without facing any consequences, and neither will your parents, as long as you’re careful. Please give me an answer.”

Julian could hardly believe that the doctor hadn't wanted to report them. "I simply had to find out how much of myself was left, whether I could survive this. I'm unsure whether someone like me is even allowed to exist. At school, we talked about the Eugenics Wars. While researching for a paper, I came across documents about myself, and they mentioned the connection with Adigeon Prime..."

"You're not a war criminal. Of course you're allowed to live. Your parents wanted to help you overcome your mental and physical limitations when they had these modifications done, modifications you had no control over."

"But there's practically nothing left of me except maybe my gender and my name," he said, agitated. Dr. Burgen looked at him.

“Even though I’m not an Augment, I can imagine that this upsets you and frightens you. You can really trust me.” The doctor’s words convinced him. A heavy weight fell from his shoulders. With it, the fear of doctors that had haunted him for years finally vanished. On closer inspection, the young doctor radiated a certain confidence, and Julian felt − perhaps for the first time in his life − a strong attraction to someone of the same sex, one that seemed completely new to him. The doctor jotted something down on a pad.

When he looked up afterward, raising his head, Julian spontaneously leaned toward him and kissed him somewhat clumsily on the mouth. A quick movement, lasting only a few seconds, that did not fail to have its effect. Julian's stomach felt a flutter.

The doctor kept his distance and made it clear that he couldn't do such athing for professional reasons, that he didn't want to have anything to do with patients, and certainly not with minors. He was also already in a committed relationship. The teenager was now somewhat embarrassed by what he had done, so he apologized. "I don't usually do things like that, kiss someone so spontaneously. It just came over me. I've never kissed anyone like that before..." he blushed slightly.

Dr. Burgen smiled. "That's alright. I was a teenager myself once. Hormones can sometimes go haywire. Nevertheless, at 26, almost 27, I'm too old for you according to the law, and I want to keep my job."

Julian was released from the psychiatric ward. His parents drove him home. “Are they going to expel me from school because of what happened at the performance?” he asked.

“No, you can continue going there and finish your studies. However, the drama club has been disbanded, and the head of the tennis club doesn’t want you involved anymore for safety reasons.”

“Sure. I’m sure some people are angry with me. But are they really punishing uncle Aidan for something I did?”

“Your uncle suggested disbanding the drama club in consultation with the principal. He needs some time away. It’s not that he’s giving up his job.”

“I still feel awful about it.”

“You can talk to him anytime. His door is always open.”

He entered the house and went straight to his room. There was something comforting about the familiar smells that Julian needed to absorb. The bed, shelves, books, the desk, the USB drive in the drawer, the wardrobe, the teddy bear − nothing changed except him. He grabbed the USB drive where he had saved the documents and went to talk to his parents. ...

"...that's how I found out that you had me genetically enhanced. I also learned about my diagnosis through the recovery of my father's files. Actually, I was just looking for information about the people who can perform genetic enhancements and didn't even suspect that I could be affected. But afterwards, I realized at some point that I'm different from the other children, teenagers, and adults... Would you have even confessed to me?"

“We originally wanted to tell you much earlier, at the time we gave you sex education, but then we thought you were too young for the topic. Now we know we were wrong. We’re sorry we lied to you and the rest of the family. It was for your protection. We wanted to give you a safe childhood and youth and tell you after Eid al-Fitr, after Ramadan.”

“Do Aidan and the others know?”

“Yes. Your father had to tell them after your return when Aidan became suspicious. The family kept quiet so we wouldn’t be arrested and you wouldn’t be taken away from the family.”

“You put me and the others through a lot. I need time to process it.”

“As much time as you need, Jules.”

“I don’t want to be called ‘Jules’ anymore. ‘Julian’ is my name. The changes have made me a new person.”

“I’ll have to get used to that.”

“By the way, since tennis and any other sports are no longer options for me as careers, I’ve decided to study medicine and become a doctor. The idea has been on my mind for many years. The death of the girl on Invernia II has never completely left me. I want to help people. I still need to figure out exactly where I want to do that. It’ll be a while before I graduate, at almost 18.”

“Doctors are always needed. It’s a sensible choice,” Amsha said.

Richard cleared his throat. “Well, unless you’re planning on working as a doctor for Starfleet. Genetic manipulation is strictly forbidden there…”

“Father, if I want to work there, I’ll do it. As if I’d let some stupid prohibition like that stop me.”

“How do you intend to do that?”

“By fitting in and not drawing negative attention. What was my mind modified for otherwise? I’ll work hard to make up for the social and emotional deficits. After all, they weren’t fixed.”

“Whatever you decide, we won’t stand in your way,” Amsha said, giving her husband a stern look. “Richard, let’s go for a short walk. Our son will probably want to talk to Aidan in private.” She pulled him along. His mother seemed to sense how much Julian missed his uncle.

Instead of calling him, he drove to see him. He wrote his parents where he was.

Aidan felt mixed emotions about his nephew. Primarily relief that he was healthy again. At the same time, Aidan blamed himself for Julian's actions in the play: the sudden role change, the secret exchange of props, the years of secrecy and manipulation.

"You really became a true actor. Only your last performance went too far. You almost died..."

Julian looked down guiltily. “I messed up. I didn’t mean to do that to you. ... I found out about the augmentation. It totally overwhelmed me. I was just talking to my parents about my desire to become a doctor.”

“I think it’s good that you’re doing what you want to do. It’s probably best to finally know. It’s a shame not to be able to talk about it with outsiders.”

“I’ll have to live with that. Aidan, will you promise me something?”

“What?”

“Please don’t fall out with my dad, okay? You two need to work on your friendship. I’m keeping my distance from my parents right now because of the whole revaluation thing. He could use a friend.”

“Richard will stay my friend. He knows all the best running routes in London and puts up with my rehearsals while I’m jogging,” Aidan laughed.

“In that case, there’s still hope,” Julian grinned. They chatted for a while before he drove home.

Chapter Text

The students and teachers never fully recovered from Julian's performance, as no interest was expressed in continuing the theater at the school. Some of his friendships with classmates even broke down, while others endured. In the time leading up to graduation, he focused primarily on completing his schooling with good grades and accumulated as much knowledge as possible. The word "nerd" was sometimes used behind his back, which hurt Julian, and he distanced himself from such people.

A friend from his computer science class cheered him up. This friend enjoyed programming various things, such as short holographic sequences, which he demonstrated to him. "What is that? It's similar to a 3D movie."

“These are holographic images, strung together. You could compare it to a 3D movie. I find it very exciting. I'm going to specialize in this area professionally. Holography, software, and the like are really taking off.”

“So you've already thought about your professional future. What do your parents say? Do they support you?” he asked his friend Felix.

“They’re absolutely thrilled, especially my father. He hopes that holodeck technology will be further developed. In Starfleet, holodecks are already being installed in the modern systems of larger starships and on space stations. There are countless possibilities. You’ll see, they’re working on making it possible for people to create their own personal programs for them. One day, I’d like to set up ready-madeprograms for it.”

Julian smiled. “I’m really looking forward to when you’ve achieved that. ... I’m going to be a doctor. I’ve made up my mind about it.”

“Where do you want to work? In a hospital, a private practice, or perhaps some other kind of facility? Are you staying here on Earth or going into space?”

“Honestly, I’m racking my brains over it. If I decide on a direction, I’d like to do at least a student internship in that field beforehand to get a general idea. Depending on the specialization, medical school takes up a lot of time. You know, my father changed careers a few times in his life when something about them didn’t suit him. I don’t want that to happen to me…”

“Talk to the career guidance center for students. They can arrange internships.”

Julian contacted the relevant office, obtained brochures, and applied for a student internship in nursing at a local hospital. He received a positive response. “It’s a block internship lasting several weeks. The school has agreed to convert part of the school time. The remaining internship will take place during the first three weeks of the summer holidays.”

“That means you’ll miss the last few weeks of the school year. How is that supposed to work?” Richard criticized him.

“Are you serious? I’ve already taken the preliminary exams. My grades are outstanding. I’ll catch up onthe material, for goodness’ sake! It’s a student internship in the hospital, in nursing.” His son could hardly contain himself.

“Didn’t you want to be a doctor? What do you want in nursing?”

“Goodness, Dad! I want to see the field where I might work later. As a student, they can’t put me with the doctors. That’s only possible as a third-year medical student, and I need a high school diploma for medical school. Nurses work alongside doctors with patients. Of course, they won’t let me see patients yet, but I can learn something there under the nurses’ guidance.”

“No one can stop you from doing anything anyway. But you should learn to control your impulses when you talk to authority figures. Patients and nurses won't be as lenient as I am. That's not how we raisedyou.”

“No, you took me to a distant planet as a child to be with strangers who tinkered with my brain and body,” Julian replied quietly. “It's in my nature to learn and question things. I just can't help it. My peers bully me because of my ambition or my physique. I want to achieve something in at least a few are as that I can be proud of.”

Richard nodded and apologized. “I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. You should be successful and lead a fulfilling life. Do the internship. You can do it. It’s just hard for your father to let you go.”

“Father, don’t say things like that. I’m not gone.”

His son completed his student internship on several wards of the hospital, which he enjoyed. His academic performance didn't suffer at all. He was determined to find fulfillment in the work of a doctor in the hospital, where he could specialize. It took him just under a year to complete his internship. Soon he would have to apply to medical school.

He lay awake again on an unusually warm, starry night. The remnants of an unpleasant dream had awakened him. Invernia II, the cave, and the girl. He couldn't forget her. Automatically, Julian slipped into his day clothes and shoes, quietly crept out of the house, and went for a walk outside in the night. So many opportunities to work as a doctor...

“As long as you don’t plan on joining Starfleet,” his father said. He thought of the stories Richard told him as a child: of distant worlds, stars, alien beings, adventures. Where hadn’t his father traveled as a shuttle pilot, steward, or diplomat? They gave him the thick encyclopedia about space, which had been languishing on a shelf in his room for years. “Is it really that dangerous out there, or am I just imagining it?” Julian asked himself. Lost in thought, he sprinted so far that he covered several kilometers. London suddenly seemed incredibly small to him.

“I will never be like those who aren’t Augments. I will always have to suppress my abilities to some extent. I don’t know if one day I’ll end up like father and change jobs because I’m under challenged or bored. What am I going to do?”

“The answer is obvious, isn’t it?” an unfamiliar voice called out from directly behind him, making him jump in shock.

“Who are you?” Julian turned around. Before him stood a man in uniform with a badge on his chest, the emblem of Starfleet. His rank was that of a captain. The stranger had slightly receding, dark brown hair, combed back, a noticeably high forehead, dark brown eyes, a prominent mouth and a dimple in his chin, and no beard.

He spoke with a slight nasal twang. “Who am I? You humans, what a primitive species you are. I've taken your form so your minds won't be overwhelmed. And you're supposed to have such a brilliant intellect? I should check that out…” The man changed his form for a moment and invaded Julian's mind uninvited. “So that's how it is. Someone's been messing around with the nerve cells in the brain and with a number of other things. Don't you humans ever learn?”

Julian shuddered uncomfortably. “Get out of my head! You have no right to do that.” He studied Julian with a stern expression.

“You're not human, are you?”

“Very good. No, I am Q, from the Q Continuum. I and my kind exist on another level, detached from space and time. Our powers far surpass those of humans. Even those of genetically engineered augments like yourself.”

“You are an alien. Why are you visiting Earth?”

“Presumably for the same reason humans visit alien worlds − to get to know them and their inhabitants. We have been observing your species for a long time.”

Julian studied Q with interest. “What conclusion have you drawn about us?”

“Not necessarily for the best. Your ways should respect life more. You treat it too carelessly. You can see that in your…” The human felt caught out and looked away. “You know about this?”

“Of course. I was just glancing at your memories. You believe there’s no place for you in society. Why do you think that?”

“Because I’m different, and you know that. I want to know the answer. You said the answer was obvious.”

“Humans are among the most curious and inquisitive creatures I have ever met. You are no different. You can either lead a life on Earth as a doctor with your routines, or you can explore the realms beyond this world, where you will encounter unknown creatures, as well as unexplored places and diseases. It is up to you. It certainly won't be without danger, but you will definitely experience something.”

“You won't stop me? I have a choice?”

Q grinned at him. “I would be capable of it, but my current task is observation, not intervention. You decide the next steps.”

“Then I know my answer. I’m joining Starfleet.”

“Well then, good luck. ... I’ll take you back home with a snap of my fingers.” As soon as Q had done this, they were in Julian’s room.

“I can’t believe it,” the human exclaimed. Q was amused by his reaction; he stepped in front of him, tapped Julian on the head, erased the memory of the encounter with Q, and suggested he fall asleep.

"First contact with humans is postponed. You lack the necessary maturity. You are currently searching for yourselves. Perhaps we will meet again in a few years. Farewell, young human..." Q withdrew into his continuum while Julian slept, oblivious. Nothing stood in the way of his desire for change; he applied to Starfleet and was accepted in 2359, even before graduating from high school.