Scientist's POV.
Q finds Knowlton sitting at one of the computers, feet on the desk, reading a stack of print outs. Her print outs, actually. "Do you like them?"
"Reading about holidays on another planet? Terribly." Knowlton flips through a page. "I can understand holidays about love, but this…"
"I think it's cute."
"I don't. Besides, we aren't on this 'Earth.' Just because you're obsessed with their cultures…"
"I'm interested," Q says, a touch defensive. "And it makes things easier for them, you know, if things remind them of home."
"I don't think paper hearts are the way into theirs," Knowlton says. By now she's used to his endless well of pessimism, but that doesn't mean she likes it any.
"I thought we could throw something together for them," Q says with a somewhat forced smile, sitting down at one of the other computer stations.
"Why? You don't see me clamoring for Wombat Day celebrations."
"It might be nice for them, after…" Q pauses. "Wombat Day? Do you… actually celebrate that in…"
"No." Q frowns at him, and he puts down the papers and spins the chair around to face her. "Now isn't the time to celebrate."
"I disagree. They go through enough, something nice would be, well, nice for them. After a while they might just break if things keep getting them down."
"They manage on their own." Knowlton shrugs. "So what are you coming after me for, then."
"That, and-"
"Our actual problem."
One of these days, she might slap him. "Yes. Okay? Our actual problem."
"The ghosts."
"Is that what it was?" Q asks. She hadn't been pulled into that place. Knowlton had described it though.
"Haven't the faintest." Knowlton turns to the computer and gestures at it. "At least one of the blokes thinks you were behind it."
"I wasn't."
"Lolita?"
"Of course not…" But with less certainty.
"An Indian burial ground?"
Q blinks and then can't help but chuckle. "I see you've been reading up on Earth customs after all."
Knowlton shrugs, but doesn't deny it. "There's something here."
"A lot of people died," she replies carefully. It's true of everywhere. But Discedo is different. They both know that. "It did start after Holden exposed that bunker."
"With all those people." Knowlton spins slowly in his chair. "Did they ever even bury them? I'd be pissed too."
"Don't be silly."
"They never buried my mates either," Knowlton says, and his usual vague bitterness deepens. "Just left 'em out for the animals." He never shows much emotion, but she knows this is as angry as he gets when he repeats: "I'd be pissed, too."
"Knowlton…" Q bites her lip. "If you want, maybe we can get the remains, and…"
"Don't bother," he says with a cutting motion. He still looks distracted, but: "There is something I got from all those Earth movies, though. You never disturb a tomb. It's liable to tick things off. And what else was that place, really."
Q closes her eyes and leans back in her chair. It's a big room, and a quiet one. "Now you're just being superstitious."
She can almost feel him shrug. But after a minute, he tries to clear the air. "So, what holiday comes after Valentine's?"