Chapter Text
2377
San Francisco
One hundred and ten years old, and while the years were finally beginning to catch up with her, Maya still had all the health and vitality of a woman decades younger. She would have been content to live out those decades (mostly) being left alone aside from Carmack roping her into some bizarre mission from time to time…until several of Deep Space Nine’s personnel became involved in the Bell Riots and she met Julian Bashir. To Maya, the investigation was only weeks after she began working with the DTI.
For him it was only a few short years ago that they met, but for Maya it had been decades. He was the first Augment she knew, other than her own nephew, who wasn’t toxic to the core. He shared with her his private struggles, his fears once his secret was out, and his concern about four Augments who he described as “hospitalized for their own safety.” To Maya, however, it sounded more like they were imprisoned. Her heart ached to think how narrowly she and Enzo had escaped a similar fate. Earning trust was a hard road for Maya, and her nephew never quite learned how to behave in a way that was sufficiently normal.
Her conscience urged her to take action, but she couldn’t do it as a woman from another century, and she couldn’t interfere from the past. She had to wait and think until the appropriate time to arrange formal appeals with the proper Federation authorities in an attempt to change an unjust law. She had no desire to reverse the ban on genetic engineering, only to restore the dignity of those who ended up that way with no say in the matter.
She was not alone. Julian had plenty to say, and Maya often referenced the late Una Chin-Riley–both the exceptions made for her and her exemplary service. Julian’s four friends were there to talk–the most talkative and energetic of the group reminded her of Enzo when he was younger–and two of three other women who had been born on Ceti Alpha V and started a new life on Earth when they were teens. The third one submitted her piece in writing, as she had an extreme aversion to being surrounded by people. Enzo was also absent, with no time to spare while he conducted the orchestra for the Mariinksy Ballet and played drums in a David Bowie tribute band.
Like everything else she did, it fell apart in front of her. Maya lacked the charisma and gravitas that helped to make her father famous. The speech she had planned for years turned into a spiraling ramble, and what she hoped might move people to tears only earned a polite clap. She was relieved when the whole thing was over, and was the first to rush out into the hall, where she kicked off her shoes and began to let down her hair.
“Miss Noonien-Singh!” A voice called. Maya turned to see a young man (definitely under twenty) rushing upstream against the flow of people to catch up to her. There was something familiar about him, but she couldn’t think of a name to put to this face or recall where she might have seen him.
“I’d rather just be Maya.” That was one of the few talking points she knew she remembered to include.
“Sorry. And sorry I missed the whole thing. I hadn’t realized it would be a limited audience, and I couldn’t make it over after class in time anyway. Can I talk to you for a bit? I have so many questions.”
Even younger than she thought. “I’m sorry, I don’t have the energy for that now. We can get in touch another time.”
“I’d appreciate that. By the way, my name’s Jason Ruiter.”
Maya’s eyes opened wide, and she fought to keep any sign of shock from showing on her face. “Jason.” Her tone was stern, and internally her mind raced, weighing the possibilities of affecting both the future and the past. Would blocking him entirely harden his heart or stop him from whatever genetic supremacy path he supposedly would start down? “How old are you?”
“Fifteen.”
Still younger than she thought, but still old enough to be a rotten person.
“Jason.” A little breath as she planned an evasion. “I’m not entirely comfortable keeping in contact with a child. Send any questions you have in writing, and I will consider it.” At best, that gave her a way to ignore him without it seeming intentional.”
However, Jason seemed disappointed. “I will. Thank you, Maya.”
“Don’t worry about it.” She turned back and began to walk away without waiting for a response.
“Wait, Maya! Will there be a recording available?”
“Doubt if it’ll be open to the public.” If Jason said anything more, she didn’t hear it, as she vanished into the crowd.
This was what Ruiter had meant when he said they had met before. Back then, close to four hundred years ago but yet in this man’s future, he had been a power-hungry weasel, but now he was still just a boy. Just a boy with the same capacity for good and evil as anyone, just like her father once was.