THE GIFT

The Gift


         Transporter room number three was alive with activity.  The arrival
 of the Venurian ambassador and her aide had caused the entire crew of the
 Enterprise to prepare an elaborate reception.  For years, the Venurians had
 refused all offers of contact with the Federation.  Finally, after much
 persuasion and many false starts, the Venurians had offered to meet aboard
 the Enterprise.  Captain Jean Luc Picard was known as a fair man, and the
 people on Venuria who were in favor or opening up to more trade and
 development with the outside had heard of his abilities to reach a
 compromise, even when vastly different ideas were involved.
         Arrangements to meet with Captain Picard aboard his ship had been
 made.  This was the first time in recorded history that this planet had
 offered to open up enough to trade information with any member of the
 Federation.  Records of the Venurian people were sketchy.  However from
 ancient Vulcan mythology there was one story of a race of people who
 sustained life by taking the life force of others.  Several such myths also
 existed in Earth history, and they were all directly linked in some way
 with the people of Venuria. It was very unusual for anyone from Venuria to
 leave that planet.  But from the few who had left, there were reports of
 humans who lived on blood.
         Protocol was at it's highest as the transporter began to shimmer.
 However, without any idea of what they were going to be meeting, the
 reception committee was on edge.  Only two images cohearsed into being on
 the transporter platform.  The first was a beautiful woman, dressed in
 shades of silver and gold.  The second was a powerfully built man.  Both
 had long dark hair and, upon looking closely, eyes that were the color
 purple.
         Picard advanced and raised both opened hands in a gesture of peace.
 The beautiful purple eyes of the woman scanned the room.  Then a gentle
 smile crossed her face.  But as her lips parted in greeting, all who were
 in the transporter room recoiled.  For the teeth of the beautiful dark
 woman were sharp, and the incisors on both sides grew into fangs.  A cold
 wave of foreboding spread through the transporter deck.  The Venurians were
 Vampires!


         News about the Venurians spread quickly throughout the Enterprise.
 The Venurians  met with Picard and his Officers for over two hours in the
 briefing room.  There, the humans  learned a little about this race.  They
 lived on an iron-based, instead of a carbon-based, system.  In order to
 remain alive, the Venurians grew a type of plant which provided most of the
 hemologian that was necessary as the basis for their existence.  But in
 order to live, the Venurians were required to have their nourishment every
 two hours.  If they did not sustain themselves, they immediately became
 anemic, and  within four hours, they would die.
         The Ambassador, Auralii DeManna, had brought a small case of the
 nutrients which could sustain her and her aide until they returned to
 Venuria.  Picard and his officers watched as she supplied both herself and
 her aide, Jussin LaBaar with the hand size plants which were necessary for
 their survival.  The plants resembled small Earth rodents, but DeManna
 assured the group that they were of plant, not animal extraction.  However,
 the small plants wiggled and squirmed in the hands of the Venurians, and as
 the group watched, the two sank their teeth into them and sucked until the
 plants became white and still.
         "We on Venuria have known for a long time of the aversion which the
 necessity of our way of life would cause many other beings.  We know of
 many myths on many worlds that speak of beings like us.  Ones who," and she
 hesitated for a moment, "suck the life from others.  Please, believe me
 when I tell you that our race overcame this necessity many hundreds of
 years ago.  We cultivate these plants, and we eat no meat of any kind.  We
 have found in our past experiments that we must totally abstain from meat
 in order to survive on these plants, but it is not a question of personal
 survival.  It comes down to a question  of racial survival.  If we used
 meat to live, then the craving for that fluid which you call 'blood' would
 soon overcome us.  We would return to cannibals, and our race would parish.
 We take blood only as part of certain..." and again she hesitated, "sacred
 rituals.
         "We have learned the ways of peace.  Our main object or goal in
 life is to attain enlightenment.  We wish to harm no one.  And, over the
 years, many of us have come to believe that we are now advanced enough to
 interact with other races peacefully.   I, myself, have lived on a starship
 for a year, and there were no problems.  I was able to learn about
 different cultures, and the outlook it gave me has been invaluable.  We
 have come here now to learn of your 'Federation', and to see if we might be
 able to work together for the good of all of our species."
         The woman's beautiful purple eyes held a note of pleading.  Her
 aide stood behind her. Only Picard, who usually picked up on unspoken body
 language, could see the barely controlled anger in LaBaar's manner.  The
 huge Venurian stood stock-still.  But his hands were compressed in back of
 him, and his jaws worked back and forth, as if holding in remarks that were
 better left unsaid. It was obvious that LaBaar did not share all of the
 ideas of his ambassador.
         "Ambassador DeManna, would you like to accompany me on a short tour
 of the ship?" Picard offered.  "And after that, we could talk more about
 the possibility of Venuria learning more about the United Federation of
 Planets."
         The beautiful ambassador smiled and nodded.  "I'd love to, Captain
 Picard."
         Suddenly the ship lurched and Picard, the only one standing,
 grabbed for a hand hold.  Slapping the communicator on his chest he asked,
 "Lieutenant, what is the problem."
         "We're having trouble keeping the ship stabilized, Sir.  It seems
 that there is a large magnetic storm developing and some of our electrical
 systems are destabilizing."
         Picard's brow knitted.
         "Captain, we often have these storms around our planet.  They can
 sometimes be very violent.  I am not trying to tell you what to do in this
 situation, but it might be in your best interest to make sure that
 everything is ready in case of an emergency." The ambassador looked around
 nervously.  She was ill at ease being on an alien vessel in such an unsure
 situation.
         Picard immediately tried to reassure her.  "Please Ambassador,
 don't worry.  I will go to the bridge and make sure that everything is in
 order.  This is Mr.  Data.   Please, allow him to show you around the
 Arboretum of the ship until I can re-join you.  I assure you, all is well."
         Ambassador DeManna gave an unsure smile, being very careful not to
 show the long fangs, and nodded her head in assent. "Thank you, Captain."

         Data guided the Venurian ambassador and her aide toward the
 Arboretum.  Ambassador DeMarra was visibly shaken by the lurching aboard
 the Enterprise.  LaBaar carried the container which held the nourishment
 which the two Venurians required.
         The Arboretum was silent as the three entered.  The ship had
 steadied and the Ambassador let her eyes adjust to the brilliance of the
 artificial sun.  "Mr. Data, this is beautiful!  I'm surprised that more of
 the crew aren’t' here."
         "I believe that many of the crew have been called to their
 stations, Ambassador.  With this magnetic storm becoming so severe..." but
 Data stopped when he saw a new expression on the Ambassador's face.
         Turning to see what had caused this look of intense emotion, Data
 saw Lieutenant Reginald Barclay.  The lieutenant stared at the Ambassador
 as if he had seen a ghost!  She, in return, only whispered "Reg!"

         "You know Lieutenant Barclay?" questioned Data.
         "Yes." Her voice was filled with a gentleness which had not been
 there before.  "We met on the Zhukov.  Mr. Barclay was onboard the shuttle
 that brought me aboard.  I was there for 6 months, learning about other
 life forms and cultures." She hesitated.  "We were...close friends."
         Reg had not moved.  His face, usually a map of panic and nervous
 agitation, had only a look of old pain and hurt.  Data, never sure of
 himself when judging the emotions of humans, could only guess as to the
 reason.
         "Auralii," The name was whispered so softly that Data was not sure
 he had heard it.
         Then, suddenly they were tipped nearly sideways as the Enterprise
 was violently shaken by a new current from the magnetic storm which now
 raged all around them.  Both LaBaar and Barclay were thrown to the floor,
 but Data managed to catch the Ambassador and keep her from falling.
         A loud crash followed and then everything was silent and dark.  In a
 matter of a few seconds, emergency lights returned, dim but at least making
 the damage visible.
         Laying shattered on the floor was the box which had held the
 Venurian's food.  The plants which had been kept alive inside, now
 shuttered and, one by one, stopped all movement.  Their color paled from
 the usual scarlet red to a pink and then to a white.
         Lt. Barclay and LaBaar scrambled to their feet.  Behind the group,
 the door to the Arboretum had been jammed closed.  Data released Ambassador
 DeMarra.  Her eyes remained fixed on  Lt. Barclay.  LaBaar, however,
 grabbed for the plants which lay still on the floor.  Data immediately
 touched the communicator on his chest.
         "Data to bridge."
         At first there was no answer.  Then the channel opened and Riker's
 voice came back.  "Data, where are you?"
         "We're inside the Arboretum, Sir.  It looks like the doors are
 inoperable.  I don't think we can get out."
         "I'm afraid your little group may be there for a while.  We've
 taken some major damage and we're still getting reports of casualties.  All
 the transporters are down, and security hasn't cleared it's way to the
 Arboretum yet."
         "Sir, I understand.  But, I should mention that the container
 holding all of the Venurian's food has been destroyed.  Both Venurians will
 need  nourishment within the hour."
         Riker was quiet for a moment.  "Is there anyone else with you?"
         "Only Lt. Barclay, Sir.  He was here in the Arboretum when we came in."
         Riker hesitated again.  "Keep everyone calm, Data.  We'll be there
 as quickly as we can.  Riker out!"
         Data looked at the small group in the room.  LaBaar knelt on the
 floor beside the shattered storage box.  The plants which lay on the floor
 had now turned an ugly brown color.  Ambassador DeManna still stared at
 Lieutenant Barclay.  The two had not moved since the Arboretum had been
 sealed.
         "Reg!" her voice was so soft she could barely be heard.  "Reg, I've
 missed you."
         With those simple words, Barclay turned his back to the Venurian
 ambassador.
         "You were the one who left, Auralii."
         "You know why!  You know if we had stayed together much longer, you
 would have died.  I was so young then!  I couldn't control it!  Reg, I had
 to leave! Your life was too important..."
         In fury, Barclay spun around to face the ambassador again.   His
 fury erupted. "My life has been NOTHING without you!  I would have been
 better off dead!"
         This time it was DeManna's turn to look away.  "Reg, it was from
 you that I learned everything about love.  I knew I hurt you, but you were
 at least alive.  I could survive knowing that."
         Barclay closed his eyes.  Somehow, he had to stop the pain that
 seeing her had brought back.  Somehow, they had to survive this encounter.
 He had come to the Arboretum knowing she would be on board the Enterprise.
 He had hoped that she would never see him.  Never know he was even here.
         Long ago aboard the Zhukov, they had been lovers.  Auralii DeManna
 was the only woman who Barclay had ever called a lover.  Making love to a
 Venurian could often be deadly  for a human.  The stories of the vampire
 lover had come from somewhere, and it was probably Venuria!
         To make love with a Venurian was often beyond the limits that a
 human could endure.  There was a total giving.  And with this giving came a
 total commitment to one another.  Those humans who survived were forever dedicated to their Venurian partners.
         In his mind, Barclay could feel her fangs as they had softly
 stroked his neck.  She had always been gentle, never taking too much, never
 pulling so deeply that he lost consciousness.  Their love making had been
 exquisite.
         But she refused to stay with him.  She had said that she could not
 trust herself to hold back any longer.  By the time he found out that she
 was gone, it was too late.  He nearly died when she left him.  For days he
 had refused to see anyone.  He could not eat or sleep.  When they had
 finally forced him to see the counselor on the Zhukov, he had been near
 suicide.
         And since she had left, Barclay had refused to trust anyone else.
 He kept his life stark.  He was free from attachments of any kind.  That
 way, there was much less chance of being hurt.  He knew that he never
 wanted to live through that kind of pain again..
         "Mr. Data, I'll check the panels.  There may be something I can do
 to help get these doors opened." Hurriedly, he moved away from the Venurian
 ambassador.
         "Thank you, Mr. Barclay."
         Pulling herself back from her thoughts, Ambassador DeManna turned
 to Data.  "Mr. Data, it might be better if Jussin and I sit down.  It is
 getting near the time when we usually take nourishment, and I think that if
 we remain calm and quiet, it might be better.  You are in no danger from
 either LaBaar or myself..." but she hesitated when she looked at Lt.
 Barclays’ back as he knelt to work on the door panel.  Nervously, she looked
 toward LaBaar.
         "I do not have the same physiology as a human," Data responded.
 "But we should take some precautions in regards to Mr. Barclay."
         "Reg is safe.   No one will harm him," she whispered. "I'll make
 sure of that!"

         For over an hour, Reg worked desperately on the panel which held
 the door closed, but with no success.  When he turned to look into the
 room, panic filled his chest.  Data had gone to the far end of the
 Arboretum to see if he could find water for the Venurians.  The ship still
 rocked wildly and there had been no sign of help from the outside.  The
 ambassador leaned limply against the base of a tree and LaBaar swayed at
 her side.  Barclay stood.
         Silently he approached the two and knelt beside Auralii.  "You need
 food," he said. With those three words, he offered her his life.
         "NO!" Her reaction was swift and firm.  "No.  I will not.  It's
 been too long between feedings.  I don't think I could control it.  I will
 never take that  chance!"
         Barclay gently picked up her hand.  It lay at her breast. Raising
 it to his lips, he kissed it.  He fought to hold back unshed tears.  Tears
 saved from so long age.
         "It's my gift," he whispered.  "My gift to you." Before she could
 object, Reg gently placed one hand on either side of her face.  First he
 stared into her gentle purple eyes.  Then he bent his head back and firmly
 placed the lips of the ambassador on his neck.  At first she tried to
 refuse.  But she could smell the blood which rushed, like a river, just
 beneath the skin. She could see the pulse of it in his exposed neck.  Then
 she heard the strong beat of his heart.  Without thinking, she opened her
 mouth and let her incisors brush against his jugular vein.  "No," she
 thought, "Not there.  I might kill him.  I can't..." but she couldn't stop.
 Before she knew what she had done, her teeth had punctured his skin.  With
 a rush, she tasted his blood!  She was so hungry and the taste, the feel of
 him becoming part of her was impossible to resist. She began to suck, too
 strong at first.  She felt him tremble, but then he stilled himself while
 she greedily pulled on his life blood.  Reg could not stop a moan of
 pleasure mixed with pain.  Auralii could feel the life-beat in his body.
 His gift sustained her. It had been so long since she had taken someone
 like this.  And she had missed him so much!
         But then she felt him sag slightly.  She realized that she had been
 pulling with all her might.  Quickly she let him go, and her saliva
 staunched the flow of his blood.  Reg swayed and let his head drop.  His
 eyes were unfocused for a moment, but he turned his head so she could not
 see.  "You have given me the gift of life," she breathed.  Barclay only
 sighed, his eyes still closed.
         "Will you be all right for a while?" he asked in a whisper.
         "Yes, beloved."
         "Then I'm going to check on Mr. Data.  He should have been back by
 now.  Maybe he's found something that might help us."
         At first unsteady, Reg stood a moment beside the tree to catch his
 balance.  Then he went in the direction that Data had gone.  Neither he nor
 DeManna noticed that LaBaar was gone.
         For several minutes after he left, Auralii breathed deeply.  The
 taste of his blood was still on her lips, salty like tears.  One of her own
 tears, tinged with red, dropped onto her hand.  She had loved him beyond
 compare.  He was a gentle, kind, creative man.  But she could not take the
 chance that their love making would kill him.  He meant too much to her.
 And so she had left him.  How many times had his memory kept  her sleepless
 at night?  She knew she loved him still...above anything...above life, if
 need be.
         And then Data appeared.  He brought water in a small cup.  "Here,
 Ambassador.  Maybe this will help."
         "Thank you, Data.  But..." she was embarrassed.  "Please see if
 LaBaar needs it.  I am fine now." And then she stopped.  "LaBaar!  Where is
 he?"
         Data stood and peered in every direction.  "I don't see him.  And
 where is Mr. Barclay?"
         "He was looking for you...Oh my God!" Her face paled.  "I smell
 blood! Oh my God, NO!" This last was a near-scream.  "This way, Mr. Data.
 I can smell blood!  That could only mean..." she never finished the
 sentence.        They burst into a small clearing to a sight so horrible
 that Data had to stop in disbelief.  LaBaar knelt over the nearly lifeless
 form of Lt. Barclay.  The Venurian supported the lieutenant's entire upper
 body in his arms, letting his head fall backwards, toward the ground.
 LaBaar's fangs were buried completely in the lieutenant's neck and he
 pulled frantically at the blood in Barclay's jugular vein.  The lieutenant
 was so pale that his skin seemed to have no color at all.  And LaBaar
 continued to drink, straining hard to drain his body!
         Auralii screamed.  Data rushed forward in an effort to knock the
 Venurian away from the unconscious Barclay.   Like an animal, LaBaar sank
 his teeth even deeper into the lieutenants neck and pulled hard on the
 vein.  Suddenly there was a loud crack.  Data turned to see the ambassador
 holding a strange weapon, aimed at her aide.  The Venurian had a blank
 expression on his face, but he had at least let go of his hold on Barclay's
 neck.  Then he crumpled to the ground, and Barclay fell from his hands,
 unconscious.
         With a cry Ambassador DeManna knelt beside Lt. Barclay's still
 form.  His neck, which and been ravaged by LaBaar's fangs, still bled.
 Gently, DeManna bent her head, as if to kiss his neck ever so carefully.
 But instead, Data saw that she was caressing the opened wound with her
 tongue.  At his questioning glance she stopped.  "Our saliva has the
 ability to stop bleeding, Mr. Data.  It's all that I can do for him now."
 Tears fell from her eyes and dropped to Barclay's face.
         "Your tears are red."
         "Yes, Mr. Data.  It's because of the hemologian in our body.  It
 causes all our body fluids to have a reddish tint." All the while, as she
 talked, she held Barclay's still form in her arms.  "I told you he would be
 safe, Mr. Data.  I was wrong.  I thought we were ready to join the rest of
 Federation.  I hoped that we had learned to live in peace with others, but
 I was wrong there too.  I will never forgive myself for this.  Never."
         Data could only watch as she held the lieutenant in her arms and
 rocked slowly back and forth.
         "He will need water.  I think he's waking up.  I think we should
 move him back to the front of the Arboretum.  Then I will go for some
 water."
         "Would you leave him with me, knowing what I am?" she asked.
         Data looked at her.  "Yes," was all he said.
         As carefully as possible, the two supported the lieutenant.  When
 they got to the Arboretum door, Data made him as comfortable as he could and
 left to get water.
         Slowly, Reg opened his eyes. "Auralii, hold me," he whispered.
 "Hold me. I'm so cold."
         He had begun to shiver violently from shock and blood loss. She
 bent down to hold him closer.  It was then that she heard him beg .  "Take
 me, Auralii.  I can't live without you any longer.  I've tried.  Really I
 have, but it just doesn't work." With his last effort, Reg drew back his
 chin and exposed his ravaged neck. "Please, beloved," he begged.  "Please
 take this last gift."
         Sobbing, she knew that he was dying before her eyes.  Opening her
 mouth, she let her tongue trace the wound that LaBaar's fangs had caused.
 She could taste his blood again.  Even dried as it was, it excited her
 beyond endurance.  She let her own fangs brush his exposed neck.  "Please,"
 he whispered.
         Just as she began to press her teeth into his throat, there was a
 noise.  The door to the Arboretum suddenly disappeared in a bright flash.
 She stopped herself and pull away, but even as she did, she heard his
 bitter moan of disappointment and abandonment.
         The ships doctor appeared from nowhere.  Before she could
 comprehend what was happening, people from the medical team had taken Lt.
 Barclay,  and members of the security party where helping her stagger
 toward the transporter deck. "We must get you back to Venuria." she heard
 Picard say.  "You need to nourishment."
         How could she tell him.  How could she make him understand that the
 man who they had just carried away so near death, had given her the gift of
 life?
         Quietly, she composed herself.  "Captain Picard," she said.  "I
 thank you for all that you have done for me today.  Now that the magnetic
 storm has stopped, I think I must return.  But, I believe that we should
 postpone any further talks between ourselves and the Federation for a while
 longer.  I'm afraid that the Venurians are not yet ready to deal with
 the..." she hesitated, and then continued, "outside world."
         As the Ambassador stepped onto the transporter deck, she turned one
 last time to Picard.  "Captain, tell Lt. Barclay...tell Lt. Barclay that I
 appreciate the gift that he offered, but that I was not yet ready to accept
 it." And with those words, her form shimmered and disappeared.  She hoped
 that the Captain hadn't seen the red tear as it had trickled down her
 cheek.