by S. D. Perry
He was still frowning, but he took Pif’s bag, tucking it into one pocket. “Anyway, we already ate, we were about to start without you.”
Jake and Coamis both seemed unduly relieved to see him, which made Pif very happy. “How nice, that you were all so worried! The first round is on me. It’s the least I can do.”
The alehouse was small but clean, the servers polite, the prices fair, and Pif ended up buying the first two rounds…except that Jake barely touched his one drink, finally admitting that he’d never developed a taste for alcohol, synth or straight. Coamis, already flushed, immediately offered to finish his drink, while Pif exchanged a grin with Pri’ak. The Merdosian’s clear teeth sparkled as brightly as his eyes.
“Think he’d like a spinewater?” Pri’ak asked.
“I think I’d like a spinewater,” Pif said. “There’s a place over by the shipyards that has over a hundred flavors.”
“What’s a spinewater?” Coamis said, setting Jake’s empty glass back in front of him.
“Unscented liquor,” Pri’ak answered. “Served in these tiny glasses, and you can get it flavored to taste like just about anything. It’s not exactly a, ah, rough-customer drink, but it does the trick.”
Jake looked hopeful as Pif paid the bill. “I’ll buy the first round.”
Once they’d resituated themselves at the Laughing This, apparently Ee’s foremost spinewater establishment, Jake, in fact, bought the first three rounds. Over them, they toasted Stessie, and talked about Facity’s wardrobe—respectfully, of course—and reminisced about childhood, and Drang, and first loves. The drinks were interesting, each of them daring to try flavors they’d never tasted, and the conversation was generally upbeat and pleasant, Pif saying a number of times how happy he was with the company, the others agreeing. Pri’ak bought the next round, another drink to Stessie, and Coamis bought two, toasting Jake’s decision to stay on, as well as his own—and then it was Pif’s turn again, but he suggested that they hop, tired of the way that all of the old women at the bar were staring at them. At least he thought they were old women, though he supposed it was possible that they were just very lined and unhappy. He said as much to the others, which for some reason induced Jake and Coamis to laugh so hard that they couldn’t breathe for what seemed like a long time. That was when Pif realized that the two young men were already drunk…and he noticed, as they got up to leave, that his own legs were tending toward unsteady.
There was some disagreement once they left the This, over what sort of establishment they should take their business to next, but it was quickly resolved when Pri’ak mentioned that he liked nice women, and in fact knew of a place where some congregated. They all agreed that nice women were nice, and Coamis began singing a beautiful song about a girl with stars in her eyes, and they made their way to Pri’ak’s spirits bar…where, sadly, there seemed to be very few women willing to look at them, let alone talk to them.
Pif didn’t mind, by then, having decided that Jake, Coamis, and Pri’ak were the best friends an Aarruri ever had, even after Pri’ak ate his Ee tower souvenir. The night was young, and they were free men, they had money and song and another round on the way.
Jake was drunk, drunker than he ever had been in his life, and couldn’t understand why he’d never done it before. Coamis couldn’t, either. Jake had drunk wine before, of course, usually with dinner…and he told Coamis all about the incredible dinners his father had made, which impressed Coamis no end…and he’d had a few cocktails at Vic’s, here and there…Jake had a lot to say about Vic’s, like about the time Frankie Eyes tried to take it over, and how Vic Fontaine was a hologram but he was aware, too, and he also remembered the time he’d taken Kesha to Vic’s when Nog had been staying there, and he and Nog had fought.
“I love Nog, though,” Jake said, turning to Coamis once more, as he was closest. He was prepared to convince Coamis of the fact, if need be, but Coamis didn’t seem to be entirely awake. His eyes were mostly open, but they kept flickering, like he was trying to watch a ball bouncing very quickly, somewhere past Jake’s head. Watching his eyes flicker was making Jake feel a little queasy, actually.
“That, and the heat,” Jake said. The bar they were in seemed very warm, and crowded, and loud. “Don’t you think?”
Coamis nodded, and then put his head down, apparently needing to rest. A few seconds later, he started to drool.
“You’re drunk,” Jake said, grinning, but Coamis didn’t respond. Mildly concerned, Jake decided he’d better inform the others, and leaned across the table toward them, but Pif and Pri’ak were talking with their heads together, oblivious. Jake couldn’t tell what they were saying, but he heard the word “bet” and the word “sick,” and decided he didn’t want to know…mostly because the mere mention of the word sick had him thinking about the fried meat and salad he’d had some hours before, and how it was roiling around in his gut all sweaty and hot….
Gah. He needed some water, or some fresh air or something. Jake looked around the bar, at the standing and sitting and leaning people of all shapes and colors, hoping that one of them would stand out as a drink server…
…and he saw a familiar face across the room. It took him a second to place it, but just seeing someone from home, from the station, made Jake forget all about his unhappy stomach. It was Chief O’Brien’s friend, the one who had caused so much trouble all those years ago….
Dad was so mad, what was his name, it can’t be the same guy but the whole species goes by that name….
“Tosk,” he said, and at that, Pif and Pri’ak finally looked up, following Jake’s gaze. The Tosk was by the door, his wide yellow eyes staring, scanning the crowd. The reptilian creature seemed tense, his movements quick and jerky.
“Where there’s Tosk, there’re Hunters,” Pif said. “Last time we were here, a couple of ’em had just been detained for barging into someone’s house, looking for Tosks, remember?”
“Those things are trouble,” Pri’ak said, firmly but slowly. “I think they should be banned from public places, or someone’s going to get seriously killed. Or injured.”
Watching the Tosk, Jake numbly realized that the sentiment was a popular one. A number of people in the tavern were glaring at Tosk, the conversation level dropping a notch as the customers who knew about Tosk explained the species to those who didn’t know. Jake remembered that Tosk’s brief appearance at DS9 had set off yet another round of debate about the Prime Directive. The Tosk were hunted for sport, which was flat-out immoral as far as Jake was concerned, but the issue was complicated; they were an engineered species that wanted to be hunted, and were honored for it.
Not that he looks all that honored….
The longer Jake watched, the more he became convinced that the Tosk was sick. He seemed deeply anxious, his eyes were glassy with fatigue, and his scales were cracked and faded. It didn’t seem fair, the way everyone was staring, angry, talking about him as though he’d asked to be created for bloodsport, and not even noticing that he was ill. The bartender was speaking to the Tosk with a distinctly unfriendly air.
“I’m going to say hi,” Jake said, determined, and pushed away from the table. It took a moment for gravity to work with him, but he managed. He’d forgotten he was so tall.
“How about you don’t?” Pif asked.
Pri’ak was nodding, carefully enunciating his words. “Yes, I agree. You should leave him alone.”
“No, I’m going,” Jake said. “I need some air, anyway. I’ll be careful.”
Pri’ak said something else, but Jake was already walking, and that took most of his concentration. Unfortunately, Tosk was also walking, disappearing back through the tavern’s door before Jake was halfway there, but Jake was resolute. He dodged a number of standing people, wheeling for balance as a drink server danced in front of him, and finally made it to and through the door, the cool night air so sweet and soft that he was glad for his persistence. His stomach seemed to settle almost immediately.
> “Where’d you…” Jake mumbled, looking around, and thought he saw the Tosk stepping around the tavern’s far corner, back into one of the still-busy Ee avenues.
Since his initial instinct had turned out so well, Jake decided to follow, at least for a little ways. Even if he couldn’t find the Tosk, there was music in the air, and laughter, and interesting things to see.
That, and going back in there’s going to make me throw up, Jake thought, and was already walking before he realized he’d made the decision.
Around the corner, and he was suddenly in the midst of a moving group of tall, strange-smelling furry people. He stepped aside, smiling apologetically as they sidled past, squinting ahead. Was that Tosk, already four shops away, ducking behind another building?
Jake hurried after him, nodding at a Merdosian family that was going in the opposite direction, Pri’ak’s people, good people, past a closed shoe store, an open kiosk that was handing out disgusting-looking, goopy black stew in disposable cups, a shop that was apparently selling antigrav halos. There were some small orange people walking past, and what looked like a monster Aarruri, only with six legs, and a smell like old fish—
—and then a hand slammed down on his shoulder and jerked him into a dark alley.
12
TOSK PULLED the male creature into the space between the buildings and pushed him against the wall, barely able to control his enthusiasm or his hope. He had followed Tosk from the tavern, it meant something, surely it meant something.
And there’s a feeling… Yes, there was something about this one, he felt it, this one knew something.
“Will you tell me the new purpose?” Tosk asked eagerly.
The young male’s eyes were wide and staring, his voice a stammer. “Wha—what?”
“The new purpose, Other than Hunt,” Tosk said, gripping the male’s shoulder tighter, too tight, he was wincing. Tosk let go with an effort, forcing himself to speak slower.
“The new purpose. Do you know what it is?”
“I don’t…I just wanted…no,” the male said.
Tosk stared, searching his face for truth, and found it—in the bleary eyes, and the tavern smell. The young male was intoxicated, and entirely clueless as to why Tosk had suddenly grabbed him. He didn’t know.
Tosk sagged, turning away, feeling the brief hope die. The young male stared, apparently not angry. That was too bad. Tosk wished that someone would kill him, but no longer believed he would be so fortunate…and he knew he would defend himself regardless of his wish, because there was the Hunt, and there was the Other. He was doomed.
“I apologize to you,” he said. He was suddenly too tired to walk away, so he simply stood, waiting for the young male to do so. He was tired; Tosk needed only seventeen minutes of rest per rotation, and yet he was exhausted. Had he rested recently? He didn’t remember. It didn’t matter.
The young male didn’t leave. It watched him a moment, finally speaking in a low, careful tone. “Are you sick?”
Tosk considered ignoring him, he’d ignored others who had asked…but remembered that he’d hurt the male, squeezing his shoulder hard enough to hurt him, and thought he might as well answer. For all that it mattered.
“I don’t know.”
The young male watched him another moment. “My name’s Jake,” he said. “Are you…are you being Hunted?”
Tosk looked at Jake, feeling a great distress at the question. Yes, he was being Hunted, and instead of fulfilling his duty and purpose, instead of proudly seeking his death with honor, he was wandering a populated world, asking strangers questions that they didn’t understand. Questions that he didn’t understand.
“Yes,” he said.
Jake shook his head as though trying to clear it. “But…isn’t that your only purpose, to be Hunted?”
“Yes,” Tosk said again, and felt the great rift in his mind shift, felt it widen, felt the desperation hit him anew. “Yes, yes, but there is another! I don’t know what it is, I have to find it, it’s here, I believe it’s here, but I don’t know why and I can’t find it!”
“Hey, calm down,” Jake said, his voice soothing and low. “It’s okay, you’re okay, just, ah…just breathe, take a deep breath.”
Tosk did as instructed, but nothing was resolved, he felt no calmer.
“If you don’t know what this other purpose is…” Jake started, and then exhaled heavily. “Maybe you should start at the beginning. How…What made you decide that there was something besides the Hunt?”
Tosk stared at him, not sure whether or not he should answer. Tosk did not speak of the Hunt, that was the Hunter’s privilege…except he’d already admitted that he was being Hunted, and Jake had not asked about the Hunt itself, Jake had asked him about the Other. In the four days since he’d come to Ee, since he’d just happened to “feel” that the purpose was here, of all places, no one had asked him to relate his story. He’d been ignored or shunned or asked to move on, and twice, beings had physically threatened him, but no one had asked him about the Other, or how he’d come to find a new purpose.
And there is nothing for me to lose.
It was the truth. Tosk looked into the young male’s, Jake’s, searching gaze and nodded once.
“I will tell you, Jake.”
Jake smiled, and motioned toward a stack of crates nearby. “Good. Though I’ve got to sit down, if you don’t mind. I’ve had a bit to drink this evening.”
Though Tosk didn’t need to sit, he did the same as Jake, and because he was not sure where to begin, he began as Jake had asked.
“There was a crack in the humidity mesh over my ship’s Arva nodes, and I had no choice but to set down…”
Jake slowly began to sober as the Tosk told his story, which was decidedly weird. It seemed he’d stopped on some random, uninhabited planet to fix his ship, and been zapped by a rock, and…as near as Jake could figure, he’d been implanted by a deeply felt need to find something, some specific but unnamed…thing. He’d spent the next fifteen weeks—which, Jake noted offhandedly, corresponded almost exactly to the time frame he’d been on board the Even Odds—just wandering, choosing his path seemingly at random. He’d been on Ee for the last few days, and seemed to feel that this unknown purpose was somewhere nearby, but he wasn’t sure why he felt that way. He’d apparently worked his way across the entire main port, starting in the north, where he’d set his ship down, and was about to run out of places to look.
“What about the Hunt?” Jake asked, trying not to think about how desperately thirsty he was getting, or how his stomach had gone back to unsettled. They were sitting at the mouth of the alley, only a couple of meters from the passing parade of consumers, and a lot of them were carrying food—steaming cups and plates of alien cuisine, some of which smelled exceedingly toxic.
Tosk paused uncertainly, and Jake remembered that they weren’t supposed to talk about it.
“I mean, don’t say if you can’t, but do you know if the Hunters are still after you?” He asked.
“They are,” Tosk said.
“How do you know?”
Tosk seemed confused by the question. “Because…because I’m still alive.”
Oh. “Well, have you thought about going home for help, or maybe asking the Hunters if they could…”
Tosk’s shocked reaction made finishing the thought pointless.
“I am Tosk,” he said, his eyes wide.
“Right,” Jake said, suppressing a sigh. His head hurt, and he was already running out of ideas, either because he was still halfway to drunk or because there just weren’t that many helpful suggestions to be had.
How do you find something without knowing what it is? Maybe Dez would have some ideas…though how would he feel about Jake bringing a Tosk back to the ship, let alone talking to one? Pif and Pri’ak hadn’t been too “hip” to the idea, in Vic vernacular—
Tosk stood up suddenly, turning, and Jake realized that they had company—a slender humanoid female stood just a met
er away, staring directly at Jake with an expression of confused and unhappy surprise.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice thin and reedy. She was short, a meter and a half at most, and pale gray, with nose and brow ridges that accented very large black eyes, and long, straight white hair. She wore a simple, lightly padded bodysuit a shade darker than her skin. Jake had never seen her before.
“Excuse me?” he asked, also standing, wincing slightly at the disagreeable effect of sudden movement. “Have we met?”
The female blinked, once, twice, and then shook her head, looking at Tosk and then back at Jake again. “Why are you out in the open like this? It’s not safe. If Tosk is being Hunted…Why are you talking to this human?”
She directed the last to Tosk, in a tone that was strangely parental, as though she were talking to wayward children rather than two complete strangers. Tosk looked helplessly at Jake, who looked helplessly back.
“Uh…we were having a private conversation…” Jake began.
“It’s not safe out here like this,” the female reiterated, ignoring the conspicuous hint. She seemed genuinely worried, and unusually protective. “Perhaps…why don’t you come with me?”
“Who are you?” Jake asked, thoroughly mystified.
She stared at him a beat, and suddenly smiled, the expression transforming her, finally dating her—she was Jake’s age, give or take a few years.
“I’m Wex,” she said. “Forgive me, you must think it rude of me to intrude on your privacy like this…I’ve had dealings with Hunters and Tosk in the past, that’s all. Really, though, it’s not the best idea, to stand about in such a public venue. May I ask…why are you here? Is there a problem, something I might be able to help with?”
Automatically, Jake started to tell her that there was no problem—she was, after all, a stranger. But of course there was a problem, and he’d known Tosk for a whole ten minutes, they weren’t exactly close friends…and since neither he nor Tosk knew what do about his dilemma, Jake thought that another opinion might not be such a bad idea.
