Part 22 (1/2)

”I must say, gentlemen, the state of your notes on this project has been less than satisfactory for quite some time.”

”Doctor Yopal, I apologize,” Mora said, his words tumbling out a little too fast.

”Yes,” Daul spoke over him. ”We have done our best to master Carda.s.sian syntax, but I fear that sometimes we focus too much on the work and too little on the vocabulary.”

Yopal made an amused sound. ”Men...” she began, the start of a familiar refrain. ”You simply aren't capable of the same kind of attention to detail as women. I suppose you cannot realistically be faulted-you were born with the natural inclination toward immediate results, with less regard for the process of getting there. Sometimes, gentlemen, the journey is as important as the destination-often even more so. I find myself reminding you of this truth far more often than I would a female scientist.”

Mora thought she might as well have been describing the difference between Bajoran and Carda.s.sian, but he only nodded. ”Of course, Doctor Yopal,” he said with well-rehea.r.s.ed sincerity. ”Again, my deepest apologies. It won't happen again.”

She moved on now, wasting no words. ”Doctor Daul, I have news for you. You will no longer be working on this a.s.signment.”

There was a terrible moment directly after she spoke when Mora felt certain that he was about to see his friend for the very last time, and he immediately regretted all the moments of unkindness the two had shared. He tried to shoot his friend a look of appropriate apology, but Yopal was still talking.

”Because you have a background in artificial intelligence programming, Doctor Daul, I will be a.s.signing you to begin work on an upgrade to a defective system that currently is in place at a nearby mining facility.”

”A mining facility?” Daul replied. ”You mean-at a work camp?”

Mora flinched inside, but Yopal was unmoved, as always, her smile intact. ”Yes, Doctor Daul, at Gallitep.”

Mora felt a s.h.i.+ver run through him at the mention of the facility. Every Bajoran knew about Gallitep. They knew it was a miserable, inescapable place, a place to be avoided at any cost.

Yopal went on. ”The program is badly outdated, and...there was an incident, recently, that has warranted immediate attention.”

”Certainly,” Daul answered, his tone barely concealing the misery he must have been feeling.

Yopal nodded, tapped her chalky fingers against her upper arms. ”Unfortunately, we no longer have many scientists on staff with this type of engineering in their repertoires. You'll be working mostly alone. As for you, Mora...” She turned, and hesitated.

An anvil of fear settled in on Mora's chest, his thoughts racing toward his deepest dread. He was about to disappear, like all the other Bajoran scientists who had once worked here, those whose expertise had become irrelevant in the sphere of what Carda.s.sians considered to be useful research. He swallowed down a ma.s.sive lump before he registered that Yopal had resumed speaking.

”...an unknown sample of organic material, brought in several years ago, by a friend of mine in the military after it was discovered adrift in the Denorios Belt. It doesn't have any particular priority, but I just ran into her at a conference and I was quite embarra.s.sed to have to confess that I'd not even taken a look at it yet. Just see what you can find out about it, and give me a report as soon as you're ready.”

”Y-yes, Doctor Yopal.”

She nodded to him, the half smile twitching a little before she took her leave of them.

”Thank you,” he called after her. It seemed somewhat inappropriate to thank her, but he never missed an opportunity. Without Yopal's continued goodwill, he would have no job. A single misstep, and he'd likely have no life at all.

He watched Daul as he concluded his report on their current research, tidying his house for the latest project-one that Mora knew amounted to collaboration with the Carda.s.sians. But if it was collaboration that kept them alive, Mora was only too willing to comply, sick as it may have made him, and it was abundantly apparent that Daul felt very much the same way. What choice did they have?

Six months after the prefect had received the news about the outcome of his indiscretion with Tora Naprem, Ba.s.so Tromac was feeling hot with resentment. It was not a new sensation for him, nor was it one he liked much. He'd been Dukat's Bajoran adjutant on this station for seven years now, and he wondered if there would ever be a time that he would be treated with respect. He doubted it. Dukat was thoroughly unpleasant even to Kubus Oak at times, and Kubus was a man of great prestige.

Ba.s.so was fed up with having to deal with the Kira family. Taban was always surly to him, despite the fact that his visits meant extra food for his dirty-faced children, despite the fact that he brought medicine and goods that Taban was undoubtedly selling on the black market-despite it all, Kira Taban treated him like the enemy, and Ba.s.so was tired of it.

He was even more tired of being sent to deal with Meru, time and time again. Ba.s.so felt that Meru was a spoiled, inconsolable woman, and as she had gotten older, her demands and her tantrums had become increasingly unreasonable. She had far too much freedom on the station, which worried Ba.s.so from time to time. If she'd had the wherewithal, she could have made life very unpleasant for any number of people, especially Dukat. Ba.s.so had tried to delicately broach that topic with the prefect, but always met with dismissal; Dukat obviously thought Ba.s.so was merely put out at having to cater to his mistress, which did at least hold some measure of truth.

It disgusted Ba.s.so that Meru couldn't simply appreciate how lucky she was to have avoided the mines, for that was exactly where he felt she deserved to be. She had been pretty once, to be sure, but she was far from young now, and though Dukat saw to it that she was regularly afforded the latest in cosmetic treatments to keep her countenance youthful, the ever-present grief in her eyes aged her more than mere time ever could. It gave her a haunted presence, something that never failed to unsettle Ba.s.so. He despised being sent to look after her. He would have been happy never to have to speak to her again.

He entered her quarters, where she was seated behind an easel, working on one of her tiresome pieces of iconography. Although Ba.s.so had long ago rejected the meanings behind the D'jarra D'jarras, he still held those from the artist sect in mild contempt, for he had been mistreated by a girl from the Ih'valla D'jarra Ih'valla D'jarra in his youth. in his youth.

”h.e.l.lo, Meru,” Ba.s.so said flatly. ”I've been sent to see if you'll be needing anything for tonight. The prefect regrets to inform you that he has business on the surface.”

The somber woman's mouth pulled down in a frown. ”Again?” she said, in her mournful way. ”He never used to go to the surface. Now he's down there all the time. I wonder what has changed recently?”

Ba.s.so knew exactly what had changed. He hesitated, considering the implications for only a fleeting moment before he said it. ”Well, I suppose you weren't aware that Naprem recently gave birth to a baby girl.”

”Naprem?” Meru leaned back very far in her seat as she regarded Ba.s.so with puzzlement. ”Who...is Naprem?”

”Why, Meru, I suppose I thought you already knew about Tora Naprem. She is another of Dukat's...comfort-givers. She resides on the surface, however. I suppose Dukat felt it wouldn't be decent to have you both on the station.”

Meru looked appropriately shocked, and Ba.s.so felt a cruel twist of amus.e.m.e.nt. Maybe now Meru would think twice about giving the prefect such a difficult time of it, if she understood how disposable she really was. ”So, you'll not be needing anything, then?”

Meru shook her head from side to side, slowly, as if in a complete daze. Ba.s.so bowed to her and walked backwards out of the room, letting the doors close behind him. He chuckled unpleasantly as he left the room, but then he considered. He would have to handle the aftermath of this carefully. It would not bode well for him if Dukat were to learn who had leaked the secret to his station mistress. Ba.s.so began immediately to formulate his next move, for he would have to be clever to keep his own skin safe.

It was worth it, though, he thought. The look on her face...Definitely worth it. he thought. The look on her face...Definitely worth it.

Dr. Mora ran through the security protocols for his computer, shutting down the laboratory for the night. It was late, and he was exhausted, but he considered himself lucky that he was even going home tonight-Doctor Daul had been spending many a night in the laboratory since he had been put on the artificial intelligence upgrade.

Mora considered the progress he had made with Yopal's anomalous organic material, which had turned out to be a gelatinous substance with the ability to mimic various forms about the laboratory-even a vaguely humanoid form. The Carda.s.sians were quite impressed with what Mora had heretofore done with it, but beyond party tricks, Mora wasn't sure what further progress there was to be made with the ”odo'ital,” ”odo'ital,” as the Carda.s.sians had begun to call it-the word for ”unknown sample” in their native language. as the Carda.s.sians had begun to call it-the word for ”unknown sample” in their native language.

Mora regarded the amber-hued liquid, the color of copal copal cider, stirring peacefully in a transparent container in the corner of the lab. He considered, with curious pride-as well as some measure of concern-that the liquid had increased in ma.s.s considerably since he began running his tests. He had enjoyed his work with the cider, stirring peacefully in a transparent container in the corner of the lab. He considered, with curious pride-as well as some measure of concern-that the liquid had increased in ma.s.s considerably since he began running his tests. He had enjoyed his work with the odo'ital, odo'ital, and would no doubt miss it once Doctor Yopal rea.s.signed him to something else-for as soon as she discovered that his research was beginning to plateau, she would no doubt find a new project for Mora, possibly even something as unpleasant as Gallitep's mining operation. and would no doubt miss it once Doctor Yopal rea.s.signed him to something else-for as soon as she discovered that his research was beginning to plateau, she would no doubt find a new project for Mora, possibly even something as unpleasant as Gallitep's mining operation.

He sighed heavily as he dimmed the lights and turned to go, but a strangely familiar sound stopped him in his tracks. He turned, looking around the lab, empty of life. ”h.e.l.lo?” he said, a little uneasily.

He was met with silence. He checked himself, chuckling a little at his own tired jumpiness, and turned again. And then again, there it was. A sound that was distinctly...well, it was very much like...it was a sigh. sigh.

Ever the scientist, Mora sighed again himself, louder this time. Sure enough, he was met with a response in kind, though he could not be sure where it was coming from. His face p.r.i.c.kled as he considered the eeriness of it, but he had a strange hunch that he knew what was making the sound-for he had suspected for months now that the odo'ital odo'ital was more than just a tank of glop. He'd been possessed of...a feeling, an idea. He believed the goo, unquestionably a new kind of life-form, was more than just some cellular broth. He begun to suspect it might actually be sentient. was more than just a tank of glop. He'd been possessed of...a feeling, an idea. He believed the goo, unquestionably a new kind of life-form, was more than just some cellular broth. He begun to suspect it might actually be sentient.

Once more he sighed, and once more he heard a similar sound coming from the corner of the lab. He was sure of it now, it was coming from the tank, where the golden soup roiled and sloshed in its container, an approximation of Bajor's seas during a brilliant storm. The life-form was trying to communicate with him. Mora knew it. And this was the breakthrough he needed right now, to save his tenuous placement at the inst.i.tute. He ordered the computer to put the lights back up. He would not be going home tonight after all.

Ro Laren's raider hung pa.s.sively in s.p.a.ce as she waited for a signal from Sadakita Ra.s.s, the pilot who was flying the scouts.h.i.+p. The Bram cell always stuck to the same formation when they left the Bajoran atmosphere, dodging the grids by staggering their signals in a particular fas.h.i.+on that confused the Carda.s.sian patrol vessels. Laren tapped her sensor panel impatiently with her fingers before she got the chirp she was waiting for. She put on a burst of speed and quickly changed her direction.

It was not ten minutes later that she saw what her cell was after-the drifting wreckage of an alien freighter, first spied by Sadakita two days before. She had reported it back to Bram, who decided it was worth a second look. Laren had no means of confirming it, but Sadakita believed the vessel had belonged to the Ferengi, the alien merchants who sometimes dared venture into other star systems, even B'hava'el's, if it meant a big enough profit.

Laren could already see that the freighter had sustained extensive damage to its port side. Probably the inhabitants had bailed out of it, but she was surprised the Carda.s.sians hadn't taken the s.h.i.+p yet. Maybe they had no use for it. Maybe they'd already stripped it. There was only one way to be sure.

Procedure was to wait for Sadakita to do another patrol sweep before they approached the s.h.i.+p, but Laren was tired of waiting. Though she had never docked on another s.h.i.+p before, she had a vague idea of how it was done, and she maneuvered her shuttle to the vessel's open bay, taking her stealthy little craft into the derelict's dark, gaping underbelly.

”Laren,” came a transmission; it was Bram, calling from his own raider. came a transmission; it was Bram, calling from his own raider. ”Is that you I see docking? Wait up on that. It could be b.o.o.by-trapped.” ”Is that you I see docking? Wait up on that. It could be b.o.o.by-trapped.”

Laren considered, and decided Bram was being overly cautious. She didn't want to wait for him-he probably only wanted to be the first on the s.h.i.+p, anyway. She went ahead and docked, her tiny craft thumping crazily inside the bay of the hulking scow. It came to a rest inside a chamber flooded with blackness, and she put on her night visor. ”My sensors say breathable atmosphere, and gravity,” she reported back. ”There must still be some kind of auxiliary power system intact, because the drop ramp came up behind me, so-”

”Laren, do not-I repeat-do not exit your vessel! Stay inside it until I can get there. Sadakita's coming around, and I have to cover her before I can get to you.” exit your vessel! Stay inside it until I can get there. Sadakita's coming around, and I have to cover her before I can get to you.”

Again, Laren scoffed at Bram's typical stodginess. He was always telling her what to do, and his advice was often wrong, anyway. She pushed back the glacis plate of her s.h.i.+p and took a deep breath. Her lungs did not collapse; she did not immediately begin choking on poison gases. Bram was afraid to take risks.

She hopped out of the raider, the night visor providing only a scant glow. She produced a palmlight and began to wave it about the bay. She could see nothing that interested her, only the most alien construction techniques she had ever seen.