Part 25 (1/2)
”Doctor More-ah, Doctor Yopal. He is...not the same...as you are. He looks...not the same.”
”She,” Mora corrected Odo. ”Doctor Yopal is a woman, Odo. There is a distinction between humanoid men and women, remember?”
”Yes,” the shape-s.h.i.+fter said. ”Woman. She. Doctor Yopal is a woman.”
”That is correct.”
”And men. Don't make good scientists.”
Mora smiled reservedly. Odo had never stopped delivering this refrain from time to time. Perhaps it comforted him, as the first intelligible phrase he'd come up with on his own, but Mora failed to be quite as amused by it as he had been the first few times.
”So says Doctor Yopal, Odo.”
The shape-s.h.i.+fter c.o.c.ked his head, an affectation he had picked up somewhere. ”Women look not the same as men.”
”Well, it isn't only that she is a woman and I am a man, Odo. Doctor Yopal and I...we come from different worlds. Our features are dissimilar because we are of different races. There are many different varieties of humanoids in the galaxy, Odo, and they all have distinguis.h.i.+ng features.”
”Different. Doctor Yopal is different from Doctor Mora.”
”Yes. That's correct. She is a Carda.s.sian, and I am a Bajoran.”
Odo said nothing for a moment, then he gestured to himself. ”And Odo. Odo is not a Bajoran. Odo is not a Carda.s.sian.”
There was nothing in the creature's expression or inflection of voice to suggest it, but Mora had a distinct impression of sadness. ”No,” he answered. ”Odo is a shape-s.h.i.+fter.”
Odo said nothing, and Mora decided that he wanted to change the subject. ”You have learned to speak so quickly, Odo. Did you understand what I was saying, before I began my attempts to coax you to speak on your own?”
Again, Odo's face did not change much; though the shape-s.h.i.+fter had been experimenting with expression, he was revealing nothing now. ”Understand. Odo did not always...understand. But some sounds...some words, began learned.”
”Why then, did you not try to speak?”
The shape-s.h.i.+fter tried a smile, an effect that never failed to unsettle Mora. ”Odo did not know if Mora wanted it.”
”You mean, you didn't think I wanted to hear you speak?”
The shape-s.h.i.+fter nodded jerkily.
”Well, there was plenty you could have said!” Mora exclaimed, but Odo only continued to stare, his strange, barren expression continuing to reflect absolutely nothing to suggest what might have been going on in his brain, as though ”brain” even applied.
Mora cleared his throat. ”I've got to finish my notes, Odo. Why don't you go back to your tank.”
Odo said nothing, just obeyed. As always, Mora was left with the hunger to know more, though he had no choice but to follow a certain protocol. Had he been left to his own devices to study the shape-s.h.i.+fter, he would have carried out the process much differently, but it was imperative that he perform in the manner laid out by the Carda.s.sians, for there was no telling what would happen to Odo if Mora were pulled off this project. Indeed, Mora had come to regard the shape-s.h.i.+fter as more than just a ”project,” for he saw Odo more often than he saw his own parents. With as much time as he spent with the shape-s.h.i.+fter, teaching him, testing him, he almost felt that Odo was part of his family, now.
Dukat had called Kubus Oak to his office to harangue the man about his failure to deliver more workers to Gallitep in a timely manner, for the mines were still operating at far below capacity since the accident, now six months gone. Kubus was full of excuses, as usual. He claimed that Dukat had warned him never to pull his workforce from Dahkur province, which was utter nonsense-Dukat had never said anything of the sort. He advised the so-called ”secretary” to tell his men to pick up any stragglers found outside the proscribed boundaries and bring them to Gallitep at once, for Darhe'el had been contacting Dukat on the matter with annoying frequency.
Kubus was just leaving to go back to his quarters and do whatever it was he did in there, when a breathless Ba.s.so Tromac arrived in his office, unusually late to the briefing.
”My apologies, Gul,” Ba.s.so said. ”There was a mechanical problem at the docking ring that needed to be resolved. It could not be helped.”
”Well, you've missed the conference,” he told the Bajoran. ”Kubus is just leaving, and I've no reason to repeat our conversation. Although...I do have a question or two for you, Ba.s.so, if Kubus will excuse us.”
The Bajoran official took his leave, and Dukat immediately set to interrogating his aide. ”Have you come from the hospital?”
”Yes, sir. I took the last shuttle back, but as I said, there was a problem at the docking ring and all pa.s.sengers were briefly detained while the engineers-”
”I'm not interested,” Dukat said tensely. ”I want to know of Meru's condition. Is it-”
”Terminal, yes, sir. Doctor Moset confirmed that it is a particularly virile strain of the Fostossa virus. She is not expected to make it through the week.”
Dukat's chin dropped on his chest. ”Such a tragedy for one so young,” he said softly. ”I suppose I will have to go look in on her in the next few days...” He felt a genuine regret as he said it. A hard ache persisted in his chest, thinking of her, frail and nearly lifeless in the clinical isolation of the hospital-yes, he'd better go to her, soon. He owed it to her to make her final moments as comfortable as possible. Although perhaps she would prefer to see her Bajoran husband...
Dukat felt his face darken in resentment as he remembered the sob caught in her throat. ”My husband,” ”My husband,” she'd said. After all the years he'd spent with her, everything he'd done to make her happy...and at the back of her mind, always it was she'd said. After all the years he'd spent with her, everything he'd done to make her happy...and at the back of her mind, always it was him him.
Dukat looked up at Ba.s.so, who was waiting to be told what to do next, for like all Bajorans, he scarcely had a mind of his own. ”I will see what I can do to visit her,” Dukat said.
”It is understandable if you can't make it down to see her,” Ba.s.so said. ”You are a busy man, an important man. You can't be expected to keep constant vigil by her bedside while she wastes away-”
”That's enough,” Dukat snapped. ”You've done your job, now get out of here.”
”Yes, sir,” Ba.s.so said obediently, and left the office.
Dukat sat down heavily in his chair. He wanted to unburden himself from thoughts of Meru, but it was proving difficult.
Difficult decisions have to be made every day, he reminded himself. Being prefect of Bajor was not an easy job; it required great strength of character. It required a man who did not allow his personal feelings to distract him from those things that must be done, discomfiting as they might sometimes be. he reminded himself. Being prefect of Bajor was not an easy job; it required great strength of character. It required a man who did not allow his personal feelings to distract him from those things that must be done, discomfiting as they might sometimes be.
Lenaris's raider entered Bajor's atmosphere like a dart. He clung to the yoke, the thrusters propelling him at dizzying half-impulse speed, too high a speed for even the best Carda.s.sian pilots to keep their s.h.i.+ps underneath the atmosphere without losing control. The little raider tore through the air, the proximity sensors clicking madly as he came closer to the target, and he reduced his speed, keeping his attention divided between his s.h.i.+p's course and the transponder signals that told him whether the rest of his team was still with him. They all were, though the Legans were predictably straggling a bit, but not so much as to compromise their formation. Lenaris prepared to descend.
The blood rushed to his face as his s.h.i.+p looped and fell, a straight plummeting nosedive toward the surface of the planet, the hills and glens of Musilla province rus.h.i.+ng at him. There was a Carda.s.sian naval base directly below, a ”secret” installation that the Ornathias had learned of through contact with another cell operating in this region.
Lenaris kept his direction steady, correcting for sideslip and watching his altimeter fervently. He dropped closer and closer to the surface, trying to remind himself not to glance away from his instrument panel for even a second. The temptation to do so was nearly irresistible, as he had no guarantee that the base was really down there, aside from the testimony of another Bajoran he'd never actually met in person. But if the resistance was to work on a global scale, it was imperative that he trust his faceless contacts. The base was below him. It had to be.
He got his confirmation in the form of an automated missile, showing up first as a hot blip on his transponder and then streaking across his viewscreen. He expertly maneuvered around it, though he felt panic overtake him for an instant when he saw his brother's craft yawing dangerously on his proximity sensors. Jau corrected and the missile went straight for the Legans, who were flying too close together, as usual.
”Come on...” Lenaris held his breath. Duravit managed to pull up in time to avoid it, but the blinking light that represented Fin's s.h.i.+p did not come back on again.
No! He didn't even have time to cry out, another missile was coming. This time, Lenaris took it out with his phaser banks before it came close enough to be in dodging range. He didn't even have time to cry out, another missile was coming. This time, Lenaris took it out with his phaser banks before it came close enough to be in dodging range.
The formation was broken now, with only Nerissa still pulling straight down in a determined line. ”Good girl,” Lenaris muttered, and hoped she'd have the wherewithal to take out any more missiles by herself.
He set his s.h.i.+p back into a nosedive, and another missile came after Sten's s.h.i.+p, which had veered far off to the side, swooping back almost into its original course. Sten managed to steer the missile away from the others, and Jau took it out before it got too close.
Nerissa dropped her explosives pack and a cloud of fiery orange debris came billowing up from the base below them, her raider riding the wake of it. Lenaris pulled up to avoid the blast front, trying to tap in a code to the other s.h.i.+ps-proceed with formation. But only Sten seemed to have gotten the transmission, for the others were still flying in erratic confusion. But only Sten seemed to have gotten the transmission, for the others were still flying in erratic confusion.
Lenaris decided he could pay them no mind, and continued on with the task at hand, plummeting toward the surface and ejecting the load of explosives just a few kellipate kellipates above the military s.h.i.+ps that he could now see, lined up in neat rows. He pulled his flight yoke abruptly to his chest and felt the bottom drop out of his stomach as the force of the movement pinned him to his seat. The blast erupted behind him, and his s.h.i.+p twisted violently in the sky before he could straighten it out again. Another blast followed, and he knew that one of the others had dropped his load as well. Three out of six wasn't bad, though he hoped at least one more could manage to let loose its ordnance He set his course back for Jeraddo, aiming at a sharp, upward angle, getting plenty of distance between his s.h.i.+p and the base before checking his transponder to see who was still with him. Three shuttles limped behind him, the fourth having straggled somewhere out of atmospheric range. Legan Duravit, Ornathia Nerissa, and Ornathia Sten. Jau's signal was gone.
Numb, Lenaris started to turn back, but his transponder indicated another s.h.i.+p in the vicinity-a skimmer. In fact, two skimmers. No, he checked again, and now there were four, and they were headed straight for him. He increased his speed to sub-impulse and straightened out his trajectory. He would not be leaving the atmosphere just yet, not until after he'd worn these spoonheads out. He checked his transponder one more time for Jau, but his brother's raider was still nowhere within range, and Holem didn't have time to consider it.