Star Trek - DS9 011 - Devil In The Sky

by Неизвестный

  No Hortas on Bajor. I've tried to go over his head, but, so far, the director herself isn't returning my calls." "Too bad Kai Opaka isn't there for us anymore," O'Brien commented.

  "Yes." Sisko's gaze momentarily turned inward, and O'Brien recalled how close the commander and Bajor's departed religious leader had been. Maybe I shouldn't have brought her up, he thought. Then Sisko shook off his reverie and looked directly at O'Brien.

  "Hopefully, Odo and his people can protect the Promenade--and prevent them from climbing to Ops. Frankly, I'm more worried tight now about the Hortas left on the habitat ting, where the weapons towers are. If the Cardassians stage another raid, those are our primary means of defense. Take a team of security people and engineers and protect the towers. I'll hold down the fort here." O'Brien nodded and headed for the turbolift. He paused and looked over Ops. The command center was fully staffed, and O'Brien recognized most of the personnel on duty: Sanger, Eddon, N'Heydor. All good people, but he couldn't help wishing that Kira and the others were on hand during this mess. Assum- ing they were still alive.

  "Computer," Sisko said behind O'Brien. "Esti- mated location of alien life-forms." "Infestation spreading throughout Promenade," the computer answered. It didn't actually say "I told you so," but O'Brien thought he could hear the words in its cool electronic voice.

  "On my way," he said loudly, picking up his pace.

  Thoughts of his wife and daughter haunted him. He wanted to beam to the Promenade as fast as he could; instead, he headed for the weapons towers.

  Watch out for them, Odo, he thought. Please.

  Contracting his elongated torso to normal human- oid proportions, Odo jogged toward the infirmary.

  Unlike the two Hortas, who dawdled along the way, continually veering off to check out the colorful sights and smells of the Promenade, Odo was not so easily distracted from his goal. He reached the entrance of the infirmary ahead of the Hortas, and faced the oncoming creatures. Despite their short attention spans, they definitely wanted to explore the medical center. Odo wondered what sort of vitamins or radio- active isotopes Bashir had in there that were so damn attractive to Hortas.

  He watched the Hortas as they headed toward him, their rough carapaces quivering like miniature moun- tain ranges shook by tremors, their fringes of brown- ish filaments rustling against the floor. They were smaller than the adult Horta showr, on his screen, looking less than a meter across. Younger, less mature.

  If their mother were here, Odo thought, I wouldn't be in this fix.

  Then again, there was no reason she couldn't be.

  He let his substance loosen, abandoning his face and arms and legs. He became a large pile of golden jelly, glistening and translucent. Then the jelly dark- ened, solidifying, and a reasonable approximation of a Mother Horta appeared under the flickering lights of the Promenade. The shape, Odo decided, was every bit as comfortable as he had imagined.

  The baby Hortas seemed to approve as well. High- pitched screeching, like tuning forks gone mad, pene- trated the noise generated by many Hortas running amok. Odo had no idea what, if anything, they were trying to say. This couM be trouble, he thought, if they expect me to answer them.

  Instead, however, the twin Hortas' delighted cries were echoed by similar screeches from all around.

  That's right, Odo thought, call the others. With any luck, the Hortas could communicate with each other across the entire length and depth of DS9. If so, maybe he could take care of them all with one trick.

  He slithered away from the infirmary, hoping to make himself more visible to the rest of the Hortas. His two squealing converts followed like ducklings behind him.

  Other Hortas joined them. They poured out of the shops and vaults, shattering the air with earsplitting sirens. Thankfully, Odo no longer had ears, but he could feel the vibrations even through his imitation shell. Well, he thought, they certainly sounded loud enough to be heard from one end of the station to the other. Smaller Hortas soon surrounded him. It was difficult to count them all, especially in this unfamili- ar body, but Odo realized with disappointment that he had attracted less than a dozen... so far.

  Probably all that had invaded the Promenade, he concluded. Which meant that there were still more Hortas loose elsewhere on the station. It was a start, though.

  Like the an inhuman Pied Piper, or the legendary Marching Goddess of Daffodon IX, Odo led the Hortas back toward the habitat ring. He didn't have enough cells in the security office to hold them all, but there was a stretch of living quarters, on Level 16, that should have been evacuated by now. Once I stow them there, Odo thought, Chief O'Brien can figure out a way to cage them indefinitelyaif I pull off this impersona- tion long enough.

  Odo descended an inclined emergency ramp toward Crossover Bridge 3. Fluorescent guide lights mounted in the floor marked the way to the closest escape routes. Odo ignored them; he knew his way around DS9 before it was even called DS9. Behind him, a seething mass of Hortas screeched enthusiastically, attracting new additions every few meters. Odo wished like hell he knew what they were saying.

  Several levels below the Promenade, in a dark and uninhabited turboshaft, having left Quark's holo- suites far behind, the firstborn Horta heard her sib- lings' cries of delight. The wild choir tugged at her instincts, tempting her to tunnel upward to join the rest of her family. Mother, she wondered; could it really be Mother at last?

  Another compulsion called to her, however, touch- ing her on a level even more primal. She sensed food.

  The food. The tantalizing repast that had drawn her on ever since the two small carbon-beings had aban- doned her. It was close now, she could tell. The smell and taste and feel of the food seemed to radiate from some nearby point, penetrating her shell and filling her with an irresistible hunger. She was almost there, and the roar of her aroused appetite came close to drowning out the urgent invitation of the other Hortas.

  Crawling down the side of the vertical shaft, grip- ping the polished tracks with her tendrils, the Horta paused, uncertain which way to turn. Mother, she thought, starting to reverse her descent. Then another wave of hunger passed over her, driving all thought of anything but the waiting food from out of her mind.

  Yes, yes, she enthused. Digestive juices dripped from her hide, falling like acid rain down the long shaft. It was as if she could already feel the food seeping into her, hot and savory and invigorating.

  Creeping as quickly as she could, struggling to hold on to the almost frictionless interior of the turboshaft, the Horta hurried down through the core of DS9.

  Almost there...

  CHAPTER 9

  JULIAN ROSE and moved forward when the runabout decelerated. He made certain he stood well back this time--no sense getting in the way. Kira seemed even more on edge than before, if that was possible, and he had no great wish to distract her from her work.

  As he watched, she brought the runabout down inside a deep, shadowy crater on the third moon.

  Velvetlike darkness covered them. Directly overhead, the gas giant filled half the sky like a painter's night- mare, its atmosphere a turbulent mass of swirling reds, fiery oranges, and dazzling whites. Five lumi- nous gold rings circled it. Several moons hung to either side. In happier times, Julian thought, it would have been a spectacular sight.

  He forced his attention back to the runabout. Major Kira shut down the runabout's engines, then started flicking switches. First the overhead lights went out, then the control panels, then the emergency lights.

  The walls suddenly began to close in, and Julian swallowed. The runabout felt like a coffin. Just a touch of claustrophobia, he told himselfi Turning, he went back to his seat, picked up his medical bag, and sat with it on his knees. He hugged the bag to his chest.

  This could well be the worst part of the mission, he told himself.

  Kira finished shutting down the runabout's primary systems, leaving only low-level life support, sensors, and the transporter functioning. Her anger had cooled; everything seemed to
be going smoothly for once. She knew Dax would shut down the transporter after they had beamed onto the moon. After that, it would be nearly impossible for the Cardassians to find the runabout with any sort of routine scan.

  She rose and hurried aft. The runabout seemed unnaturally quiet. She heard every cough, every rustle of clothing, every movement around her. At least Bashir had enough sense for once to sit down and shut up.

  "Double-check your equipment," she called.

  The five ensigns pulled out their weapons and checked them over. Only Dr. Bashir, futtering around with his small black medical bag, looked out of step.

  As if to apologize, he grinned at her in that annoyingly cheerful way of his.

  "Everyone ready?" she demanded.

  "Yes, Major!" the ensigns chorused.

  "Uh, yes, right," Bashir said a second late.

  "Excellent," Kira said. "If there are any last-minute questions, now is the time to ask them." "How long till we can beam across?" Bashir asked.

  "Twelve minutes," Dax called from the conn. "We will overtake the innermost moon in eight minutes, but I need at least four minutes more to find a safe place to beam you." "From our first preliminary scan," Kira went on, "we believe there is an underground mining complex.

  If they're following standard Cardassian mining tech- niques, the labor will all be done by heavy automated equipment since there isn't a native population to enslave. That will work to our advantage. They won't be watching machinery as closely as they would people." Dax added, "I will set you down as close to the main mining operations as I can. You will have to use a modified tricorder to find the Horta." "Any more questions?" Major Kira asked. Nobody said anything, not even Bashir, so she nodded. They were as ready as they'd ever be.

  "The moon is in range," Dax called. "Scanning now.

  Kira drew the phaser at her right hip and checked the setting. One of the Resistance's many slogans-- The only good Cardassian is a dead Cardassian-- came back to her.

  "Best to set our phasers on stun," Bashir advised.

  Kira glared at him and noticed that he was staring at her weapon. Then he met her gaze and his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. This was a more capable side of him, she realized, one that she seldom saw--or perhaps seldom took the time to see.

  "Just in case," he said, "we need to question a prisoner. The stun setting is just as effective against Cardassians as humans and Bajorans, after all. I mean, uh, you can always shoot them later--I mean --if they still pose a threat--" "I know what you mean, Doctor," Kira said.

  Though she hated to admit it, he was right. Silently she adjusted her phaser's setting. "Set weapons to maximum stun, as the doctor suggests," she told the rest of the team. "We may want to question prison- ers." "I've found a safe location," Dax called back.

  "You're going to Level Thirty-five. Remember, signal me when you're ready to beam back up. We have a twelve-minute transporter window every one point nine seven hours from this mark." "Ready!" Major Kira barked. Taking a series of deep breaths, she raised her phaser and prepared herself mentally for battle.

  Around her, the cabin of the runabout began to disappear in a twinkle of brightly colored lights as she beamed deep below the moon's surface.

  Ttan paced uneasily in the cell the Cardassians had brought her to. It had clearly been designed for humanoid prisoners: three walls, the floor, and the ceiling had been carved from solid rock. The fourth wall consisted of reinforced tritanium plating. The single doorway, in the middle of the tritanium wall, had force beams running across it.

  Ttan could have tunneled out with no trouble, of course. Gul Mavek and the others must have known she could escape whenever she wanted to. Clearly that wasn't the point: they also knew she couldn't leave.

  She feared for the safety of her children.

  Suppose they've begun to hatch by now, she fretted.

  Without me there to watch them, to coo for them, to make them sleep in their shells, they will be unhappy.

  They will crime looking. Will they find me, or has Gul Mavek suspended them in midair as he did with me?

  Will he leave them in the dark? Will he talk to them?

  For a second she let her acids etch into the floor, carving out a meter-deep hollow, and she sank into it.

  She found little comfort in the surrounding rock, however.

  She wept tears of acid.

  Julian materialized behind Kira and next to Ensign Parks. He felt a moment's dizziness as he grew used to the lessened gravity and almost fell when he tried to turn too quickly. Parks caught his elbow for a second, and he exchanged a quick glance with her as he caught his balance.

  "Thanks," Julian whispered, meaning it. He didn't want to look like a clumsy cadet in front of Major Kira.

  "You're welcome." She released him and trotted up the tunnel, her phaser drawn. Kira, Julian saw now, faced the other way with her own phaser out. She seemed to be standing watch, which made perfect sense, since they didn't want Cardassians sneaking up on them.

  Julian didn't see any immediate signs of danger, so he took a moment to survey everything around him.

  He stood in a long, high tunnel that curved gently out of sight thirty meters in each direction. Light came from glowing cylinders jutting down from the ceiling every few paces. The tunnel walls had a wet, oily look, and they gleamed a dull green-gold.

  Best get to business, he thought. Kira would have his head on a platter if he didn't have Ttan located by the time the rest of the team made it down. As if on cue, the hum of a transporter beam sounded again behind him.

  He raised his tricorder and began scanning for Ttan's readings. Odd, he thought. Rather than a single silicon creature, he seemed to be picking up hundreds, if not thousands of them. Could there be a colony of Hortas here? The walls all but crawled with silicon life. No, he finally decided, the tricorder had to be wrong. He shook it. Surely Dax hadn't made a mis- take- "Doctor?" Kira called. "Where is she?" Julian didn't glance up. "Still scanning, Major." Perhaps it needs some minor adjustments, he thought.

  "How long?" "I can't tell. I'm finding it difficult to pick up Ttan's readings. Something is causing interference." His fingers darted across the tricorder's controls, trying one setting after another. Come on, come on, he thought frantically.

  The transporter beam hummed again. Julian looked up to find ensigns Muckerheide, Wilkens, and Jonsson standing there. The whole team had beamed down.

  They were all staring at him. He swallowed, not liking the attention.

  "I'11 assume it's going to take a while, then." Kira turned to the others with her usual brisk military efficiency. "We need to secure this passage. You and you, you and you." She gestured Ensign Aponte and Ensign Wilkens to the left, then Ensign Jonsson and Ensign Muckerheide to the right. "Find any cross tunnels for a hundred meters each way. Check them out, then report back. You have five minutes." Julian took another try at finding Ttan, but again picked up thousands of silicon life-forms. Think, he told himself. You're doing something wrong. What wouM Dax do? What wouM O'Brien adjust?

  He looked up again, still pondering the problem, as both teams left. The four ensigns moved in long, low leaps covering four or five meters at a step, almost like ballet dancers. Though the drawn phasers in their hands somewhat marred the image, he thought.

  He ran a quick diagnostic and discovered nothing wrong with the tricorder. It should have worked. He should have been able to spot Ttan from a thousand meters away. Maybe the machine really did hate him.

  What could he possibly be doing wrong? He moved to the exact middle of the tunnel. The silicon readings lessened a little. Perhaps he could decrease the sensi- tivity, he thought, adjusting the settings with one thumb while continuing to scan.

  Julian turned once more, and suddenly he wasn't picking up any silicon at all. Then it hit him.

  "What a fool I am!" he said. He glanced up and found Major Kira frowning at him. "These tunnels," he continued, taking them in with a grand gesture, "were carved out with high-p
owered phasers. The glassy look to the walls is glass. Slag, to be precise." "What does that mean?" Kira demanded.

  "Slag. Glass. Silicon, just like Ttan. The tunnel walls are causing the interference with my tricorder.

  That's why I'm having trouble spotting her." "Great," Kira said sarcastically. "We're here, but we can't find her." "I didn't say that," Julian said with a modest little cough. Of course he could find her; it was just a matter of time. He took another step down the tunnel. "Just that it's difficult. Give me a few more... aha!" he said. A blip had appeared on his tricorder. He ad- justed the settings, trying to get a better reading.

  "You have her?" Kira asked eagerly.

  "I think so." He studied the display. The mass was ~ correct, and it seemed to be moving back and forth, like a caged animal. "Yes, definitely a silicon-based life-form. It must be her." "Where?" "Five hundred meters east and down fifty meters.