Part 11 (2/2)
She prayed that that was enough to sustain him. Because the mutation of the virus worried her. She would have expected it to go the other way. She had actually been looking to see if the Carda.s.sian form mutated into the Bajoran form when she found that she had the process exactly reversed.
She wasn't sure what that meant yet, besides the obvious results that Kellec envisioned, should the Carda.s.sians discover how the virus traveled. But she didn't like what she was thinking, and she didn't know how to clear the suspicions from her brain.
Were an oppressed people wrong in doing anything they could to get rid of their oppressors?
She turned back toward the patients in the outer rooms, and got her answer.
Yes, they were. Some prices were too high, no matter what the cause.
Chapter Fifteen
QUARK RUBBED HIS LEFT EAR with the back of his left hand. It felt as if something were tickling the edge of his lobe, and not in a pleasant way. He leaned across the bar and surveyed his business. His empty business.
He hadn't had a customer in hours. At this rate, he would be broke within the month, faster if Nog and Rom continued to spend all his latinum. No wonder Prindora left Rom. He could go through money faster than anyone Quark had ever seen.
Quark peered into the Promenade. There was no one there either. The Volian's shop was still open, but he hadn't had a customer since Rom needed his new hat. Several of the restaurants had closed, and most of the stores were closed as well. No one even wandered the Promenade, as if just moving around the station made a person vulnerable to disease.
Quark rubbed his ear again. All of this worry was making him break out. And of course, it would happen on the most sensitive spot on his body.
He heard a clang above him and he glanced up. Nog came out of the first holosuite, a bucket in his left hand. He set the bucket down, scratched his ear, and then picked up the bucket. Quark felt cold.
He turned and leaned toward the mirror behind the bar. It wasn't a pimple that he was scratching. He hadn't broken out since he was a young Ferengi just hitting p.u.b.erty. He leaned closer. The reddened area on his left ear looked more like... a blister.
”Nog!” he shouted.
”Coming, uncle,” Nog said. He clanged all the way down the stairs. Quark had had to look all over his quarters to find a bucket, but when he had found one, he gave it to Nog with the instruction that the boy scrub the entire bar, including the holosuites. It was just a way to keep him out of the way for a while, so that Quark could think. Quark had hoped he would come up with ways to save the business, but that hope had been in vain.
Nog reached the bottom of the stairs. He set the bucket down, and absently scratched his ear again.
Quark's eyes narrowed. ”Come here, Nog.”
Nog looked up. He came toward the bar, and smiled at Quark. When he reached the edge of the bar, Quark grabbed him and pulled him close. Nog's smile faded.
”Turn your head,” Quark said.
Nog did.
”Not that way. The other way.”
Nog looked in the other direction. Sure enough, there was a reddish spot on Nog's right ear. A reddish spot that was swollen and had a pus-filled tip. A blister.
”You little grubworm!” Quark said. ”I should have known better than to use my earbrush after you touched it.”
”What?” Nog asked. ”What did I do?”
”Your filthy hands had germs on them from your father's ear infection, and you touched my brush and you spread those germs to me. And now I'm in agony. Look!” He turned his ear toward Nog and leaned toward Nog's face. Nog grimaced and strained backwards, but didn't get very far because Quark was holding him.
”I'm sorry, uncle. I didn't mean to-”
”You didn't mean to. Your father didn't mean to. You're an entire family of Ferengi who have no idea how to take responsibility for anything. Well, ! do.” Quark shoved Nog backwards. ”Get your father.”
”What for?”
”Just get him.”
”Don't fire him, uncle. You're all we have.”
”Yes,” Quark said. ”I am reminded of that sad fact daily. Now get him.”
Nog backed out of the bar, b.u.mping into a chair, then turned and ran for their quarters. Quark leaned across the polished surface and stared at all the empty tables. No customers. No latinum. And an ear infection spread by his careless brother. And that hunch of Quark's was still playing.
Things were going to get worse.
Nog came out of the quarters, dragging Rom by the hand. Rom was trying to shove his hat over his head. Quark came out from behind the bar, plucked off the hat and threw it over his shoulder. ”But brother,” Rom said. ”The customers!”
”Are you seeing customers?” Quark asked. ”Because if you are, then there's more wrong with you than that ear infection.”
Rom glanced around, his movements jerkier than usual, like they always were when he was nervous. ”If there are no customers, then why did you have Nog come to get me?”
”Because,” Quark said, ”you've managed to infect all three of us through your carelessness.”
”I thought you said it was my carelessness,” Nog said.
”It was both of you!” Quark snapped. ”Now come with me.”
He took them both by the hands and dragged them out of the bar. ”Where are we going?” Rom asked.
”To the medical lab,” Quark said. ”We're going to get this solved.”
”But they have dying patients,” Rom said. ”Why would they help us?” ”Because we have latinum,” Quark said. ”Dr. Narat doesn't take latinum,” Rom said. ”And you know this how?” Quark asked.
”When we first arrived, I wasn't sleeping. I went to him for-”
”For what?” Quark stopped in the middle of the Promenade. It was empty.
”For-for a sleeping draught.”
”A sleeping draught. And you offered Dr. Narat latinum.”
”Of course,” Rom said. ”That's how business is done.”
He seemed so proud of himself. ”And he didn't charge you anything?”
”No,” Rom said. ”He gave me something to help me sleep and then he laughed when I offered him latinum, and said that Carda.s.sians don't take payments from Ferengi.” ”Well, that's a blatant lie,” Quark said.
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