By Rave1400
rave1400@aol.com
 

Date: 1 Jun 1999
Disclaimer:  Aminah is mine.  Dana Scully et al are not.
Spoilers:  "Biogenesis"
Rating:  PG
Archival:  go for it.
Summary:  The people affected by the artifact are not always whom one would
expect.

Please send feedback to Rave1400@aol.com

"Aminah"
By Rave

**************

Naturally, Aminah was the first to be called that morning when the woman from America arrived on their stretch of beach.  Over the past two years of working at the Universite Cote D'Ivoire, she had become the unofficial ambassador of the university.  Given her mastery of English, French, and several Asian languages, she was the clear choice for entertaining foreign visitors.  At first she resented the imposition and the assumption that she
would be available at any time for her "duties", but after a while she grew to like the feeling of being useful in this way, the only one who could perform this job.

She and Solomon would easily welcome such visitors into their home.  It was
cool and comfortable, much more so than the sterile "luxury" hotels further
away in Abidjan.  Club Med was not far down the beach, but it was not a
suitable accommodation for visitors to the university.  She had specially
decorated two rooms for the purpose, and when her oldest son Domenic went away to school in the city next year, his bedroom would be added to the "hotel".

She began to look forward to these visits when Solomon came home with the news.  Gauzy curtains would be aired and Cook was sent to market for fresh fruit and seafood.

She was the perfect hostess.  She sent her guests away with a smile and a
promise to send her some small treasure from their homeland.  A few years ago, Solomon and his brothers built her a curio cabinet to display her gifts.

She was well-regarded in academic circles as one who must be visited during
one's time at the University.  And so of course the men at the school would
immediately offer her household when the woman from America came.  Those
academicians were preoccupied with their studies and certainly couldn't be
blamed for forgetting her husband had just died.

So with a gracious face just-rinsed of tears, Aminah Merckmallen stood at the
front of her house and welcomed Dr. Dana Scully from the United States into her home.

Dr. Scully carried but one bag, tethered together with twine.  She must have
noticed that it caught Aminah's interest, because even before introductions
were made, she smiled slightly and said, "The airline didn't treat it very
well."  It was placed on the ground beside her and Aminah imagined it fell
apart even more with the impact.  "I'm Agent Dana Scully, an investigator from
the United States," she introduced.

"Professor Aminah Merckmallen,"  the woman responded, returning the handshake.
 

Her visitor peered at her closely.  "Merckmallen?  Are you related to Dr.
Solomon Merckmallen?"

The tracks of tears on Aminah's face threatened to become moist again.  Eyes
lowered, she replied, "He was my husband."

"Oh my God, I'm sorry.  They didn't tell...."  Aminah lifted her eyes to see
the woman's discomfort.  "I'm here because of your husband's death."

Aminah stared at this woman from America, shocked.  This Dr. Scully was here because of her Solomon?  But --

"You said that you are an investigator.  What is there to investigate?  The man
who contacted me said that my husband died from an accidental fall down a
staircase."

The immediate look of surprise on the American's face worried Aminah deeply.

"Professor Merckmallen, may I come in?"

Her manners as hostess forgotten under the weight of what she was hearing, she distractedly waved the woman inside.  They moved through the entry hall of the old house, to a large room which had been used for meetings of the tribal
elders before the French came a century earlier.  The room had been modernized, and there Domenic sat, playing a marbles game.  "Son," she instructed, "Go and play with Marie-Ahadi."  Her son, cowed by the expression on his mother's face, complied.

Cook appeared at the doorway and Aminah asked her to prepare the dinner table.  Alone again, she turned to her visitor, who had taken a chair opposite her.

"I wanted Solomon to go to America.  He came home from the university that day very excited, believing he had uncovered something amazing.  I went to see it with him the next day.  He brought it to my office -- I am an assistant
professor of languages -- and he looked more excited than he had since
Marie-Ahadi's birth."  She began to arrange the bright kente cloth of her dress
around her on the sofa.  "He wanted to simply mail it to the university in
Washington, but I suggested he go there himself and present it.  I thought it
would help him immeasurably, and people would respect his biological theories
even more."

"He did make it to the university, Professor Merckmallen," the woman said in a
soothing voice.  Aminah didn't know whether to feel relieved or sad by this
news.  She sat silently, waiting for the woman to continue.  "He brought it to
his friend, Dr. Sandoz, but one of Sandoz' colleagues took the artifact from
your husband and killed him."

This would have been worse than Aminah had expected, except that she had not
expected it at all.  Who on earth would kill her beloved husband?  Who would
want to kill him?  He was a good man with a generous soul.  He believed in God and went to Mass every week.  He had only friends, no enemies.

She wanted to disbelieve this woman, yet her kind face and honest manner made it difficult for Aminah to believe that Dr. Scully would come from America telling lies.  She had to know for certain, however.

"Are you certain he was murdered?"  Her voice shivered on the words.

Dr. Scully stood and moved over to sit next to Aminah on the long sofa.  She
took Aminah's hand and said in a quiet voice, "I'm very sure, Professor
Merckmallen.  I am a pathologist."

"Pathologist?"  It was one English word the linguist had not heard before.

The other woman quickly glanced away, then looked back at her and squeezed
Aminah's hand.  "One who investigates death.  I performed the autopsy myself."
 

"Ah."  Something about the way the woman said the words led Aminah to think she was holding something back, but Aminah wasn't sure she wanted to hear more about his death just at this moment.  Perhaps tonight, after they had eaten a quiet dinner with Domenic and Marie-Ahadi, and she had shown Dr. Scully her room.

She removed her hand from the American's clasp and smoothed her kente wrap once again, needing to do something with her hands to allay the nervous tension.

"And you came all this way to tell me about his murder?"  Even as she said the
hateful word, she still didn't want to believe it.

"I'm afraid not, ma'am."  The woman's voice remained kind, but it took on a
more businesslike tone.  "I did not know that you were Solomon's wife when the people at the university suggested I stay here for the night.  I came here to
investigate the artifact he found.  I need to know everything I can possibly
find out about it."  She paused for a moment, then said, "I need to uncover the
truth, or I might lose someone I care about deeply."

The way she spoke reminded her of when her father came to her when she was nine years old.  "Your brother has passed away," he told her in the beautiful French he spoke.  "You are now my only child.  You must grow into a strong and intelligent woman, so that you may honor me in my old age, for now I have no son."  She had been surprised when he told her this, as the other girls she
knew were being raised to become attractive wives for wealthy men in the city.
But when her beloved father told her this, she realized that her intelligence
was the key to her rise, not a beautiful face.  Even at the age of nine, she
felt empowered.

She was now a respected teacher of languages, as well-respected in her own
right as she was as the wife of a world-renowned scholar.  When her father had
passed away two years before, the pride in his eyes showed her that she had
honored him.  Now she had lost her husband, but she knew that she had honored him in his lifetime, and he had respected and loved her.  But oh, so much death.

Perhaps her intelligence could help this woman save someone who meant a great deal to her, and by doing so, Aminah could show her respect and love for
Solomon and what he stood for.

She rose from the sofa, standing nearly six feet tall in her gold, brown, and
purple kente robes, and held her chin high -- the vision of the African
princess her father had always known she could be.  "In the morning," she told
this woman sitting before her, "I shall take you to the university and give you
everything of Solomon's research.  I hope that it helps you uncover the
artifact's truth, and that it helps you save the person you care for."

The American woman smiled and said, "Thank you."

Her hostess held out a hand and Dr. Scully rose to take it.  Their handshake
was one of agreement and support.  With an agreement and a promise made, the two women moved to the dinner table, where they would share a feast and plan for tomorrow.

*****************

Finis.

Rave1400@aol.com

Any inaccuracies in the portrayal of African culture are entirely my own
responsibility.  I tried to do as much research as possible on the Web, but it
can only say so much.  My thanks to Susanne for lending an ear.

According to a website specializing in African names, "Aminah" means
"trustworthy".
 
 

Rave1400@aol.com

"Serene, I fold my hands and wait,
Nor care for wind, nor tide, nor sea;
I rave no more 'gainst time or fate,
For lo! my own shall come to me."
        -- John Burroughs, "Waiting"