by S. D. Perry
“Communications, contact the Tcha’voth and see if our readings match up,” Bowers said.
Looks like we’re not being invaded quite yet, Nog thought, smiling uneasily at Shar and shrugging. Shar nodded, composed as always. Nog had always heard that Andorians didn’t succumb to pressure as easily as others, that they actually got even calmer in crisis situations—until they got violent, anyway. As if he needed any more proof, after the way Shar had handled the Jem’Hadar at Quark’s….
“Ah, they say they might have a signature reading—” Shoka Pian, at communications, her terse voice snapping Nog back to attention.
Shoka placed one hand to her earpiece, listening, everyone in ops watching her. She was a volunteer from Bajor, a Militia communications consultant who had shuttled in with some of the engineers to help fill in shifts. Nog strained to hear what was being said, but could only hear a tinny crackling sound.
“—wait, they’ve lost it,” she said, her tone relaxing. “If it was there, it’s gone now.”
Bowers smiled. “Because they were picking up residuals off the fragment. Again. Please ask them to continue monitoring, unless they wish to pursue the possible reading.”
They wouldn’t. Nog swallowed heavily, wondering how many more of these they had to look forward to before the Federation showed up. Sciences said only two more ship fragments would trigger the wormhole, but they obviously weren’t perfect. He felt bad, thinking of the Aldebaran as some kind of nuisance, but the station’s tension level was high enough without surprise wormhole openings.
Nog picked up his Defiant report again, his stomach a little fluttery, thinking of how much he despised the Dominion and their damned soldiers for teaching him to be so afraid.
Ro had slept poorly, half listening for the computer’s voice to tell her that the colonel was calling. Kira finally contacted her just as Ro was getting dressed for her morning shift, asking her to come to the security office.
Ro hurried to get ready, wondering if Kira had already contacted the Bajoran government, wondering who else might be waiting in her office. A vedek or two, maybe someone from the Chamber of Ministers. She ran her fingers through her hair as she left her quarters, not really caring how she looked but wanting to appear sane, at least.
Ro had no idea what anyone could possibly do to prevent a prophecy from happening, but imagined that it would be handled like a natural disaster of some kind. She had given it a lot of thought while not sleeping. As far as she was concerned, the wormhole aliens weren’t gods—but no one could deny that they possessed godlike powers. And there were too many actualized prophecies in Bajoran history to ignore one this specific, not with the entire book to back it up.
She was a little surprised to see only Kira waiting for her at the door, holding the cloth-wrapped book and its translation in one arm. Her expression was impassive, and she looked tired. They stepped into the office together, Ro thinking that she might learn to get along with Kira, after all. She took her job seriously, which Ro could respect.
The thought was wiped away with Kira’s first words.
“It’s not valid,” she said, holding the items out to Ro, actually smiling a little. “I’ll admit, I was a little scared reading this, at first; there are several writings in here that are incredibly close to actual historical events. But the Prophets didn’t have anything to do with this.”
Ro took the book and the padd, frowning. “How do you know? What did the lab find out about its age?”
Kira’s smile faded. “I didn’t take it to the lab. I know because of the content.”
Ro stared at her, not sure what she was hearing. “In what way?”
“In that the Prophets never Touched the person or persons who wrote this book,” Kira said, as though she were stating some kind of fact. “Who was obviously insane. And it’s too obvious, with just enough metaphorical twisting to make it seem halfway credible. It’s fallacious and heretical.”
Ro had known that the devout Kira wasn’t going to like the book’s secular theme, but had convinced herself that when it got down to it, the colonel would do the right thing—that she would know the truth when she saw it, and act accordingly. Ro had also considered the possibility that the book was an elaborate fake, written for some unknown purpose, but she seriously doubted it—although until they had it looked over by an expert, there was no way to be sure.
Now she opened her mouth to tell Kira who the insane one obviously was, but realized that what she was going to blurt out would shut the conversation down before it even got started. She snapped her mouth shut, counted to three, and tried not to seem furious. She was a thread from losing her patience.
“Did you read all of the translation?” Ro asked. “Because there were some very unclear parts, but—”
“I read all of it,” Kira interrupted. “I know you’re not…one of the faithful, Ro, but I’ve read every accepted prophecy, some from the same era as this book—and there’s no mention of anything like this, or any acknowledgment of this prophecy being made. The Prophets would never ask for anyone to die, or condone it as destiny. They convey messages of life, not visions of death.”
It was Kira’s tone that did it, the faintest hint of gentle sympathy for poor, faithless Ro. The thread snapped.
“Are you being deliberately ignorant?” Ro asked, words spilling out sharp and fast, angry disbelief lending heat to her voice. “Everything in that book has happened, and you don’t think it’s a fake any more than I do. Just because it hasn’t been verified by some religious authority doesn’t make it any less true, it doesn’t change what’s in the book, and excuse me, but don’t you think it’s a little presumptuous for you to decide what the Prophets would or would not condone?”
She had stepped over the line, but barely cared. Kira had too much responsibility to indulge her religious biases; it wasn’t appropriate and it was maddening, besides.
High color flooded Kira’s cheeks. In contrast to the fire in Ro that had made her snap, that bloomed even now in the colonel’s face, Kira’s manner was deep-space cold.
“Give it to me,” she said, thrusting one hand out. “I’m turning it over to Vedek Yevir, to take to the Assembly. If they say it’s authentic, we’ll move from there. And if not, they have enough experience with false prophecies to take suitable action.”
Denounce it loudly, of course. And then maybe set it on fire.
Ro turned and placed the book and translation on her desk before answering, aware that she was probably about to be dismissed from duty as she faced Kira again.
“This book is a key piece of evidence in an ongoing murder investigation,” Ro said, keeping her tone as even as she could. “Once the investigation is over, you can lay a claim to it; until then, it stays here.”
She hurried on before Kira could respond, just trying to get some kind of point across, something that would make the colonel reconsider her position. “If the artifact is genuine, do you think the Vedek Assembly is the only Bajoran group who should have access? You know it’s from B’hala, it has to be, which means it belongs to everyone. Do you honestly believe that the Assembly will even consider keeping it as a historical document, let alone opening any part of it to debate?”
Kira didn’t seem to be listening. She looked at Ro with something like pity, but her voice carried that no-nonsense tone of absolute belief that to Ro, at least, represented the dogma of the pietistic.
“I don’t expect you to understand.”
Never underestimate the power of faith. Ro hated that one. It was a tenet of the shrine, as if faith were always a good thing.
“But I do expect a bare minimum of respect, as the commanding officer of this station,” Kira said, meeting Ro’s gaze squarely. “Think of it as a courtesy, if you’d rather, but don’t forget it if you want to continue working here.”
Ro looked away. She was still angry, but Kira was right about that much. She was too old to be indulging her temper, having long seen it as one of her shortcomi
ngs.
“Yes, Colonel.”
Kira nodded briskly. “Fine. I’ll expect a progress report on your pending research results this afternoon, in person. We can talk about a few other matters then, too.”
“Are you going to show it to Captain Yates?” Ro asked, her voice flat with resignation. Without the colonel’s support, there would be no independent investigation into the book, except for how it related to Istani’s murder. Whatever happened, Yates should know that she was an indirect part of the investigation before anyone else did.
Kira seemed startled by the question. “I suppose I should,” she said, after a brief hesitation. She reached past Ro and picked up the translation padd. “Is there anything else, Lieutenant?”
Ro shook her head, and Kira turned and walked out without another word. Ro stared after her for a moment, then sat down at her desk, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. She gazed absently at the book, thinking, frustrated and alarmed by the situation, surprised at how leniently Kira had responded to her outburst; if their positions had been reversed, Ro would certainly have dismissed her.
Mostly she thought of how comforting it must be, to really believe that the Prophets held every Bajoran in their all-encompassing hands, that they saw every Bajoran as a child to be loved and guided. It had its advantages…not the least of which being that if she really did believe, she’d be able to dismiss the book as easily as Kira had.
Ro sighed and turned to the morning security reports, still not sure if she truly belonged on DS9.
Chapter Four
Kasidy was sitting at the small desk in her quarters’ living room, revising a list of things to do for her stay at the house. She wasn’t leaving for another two days, and would only be staying on Bajor for three, but she loved making lists. Having moved to part-time with the Commerce Ministry, she had a lot of free time to “putter,” as her grandmother had liked to say—make lists, catch up on correspondence, take naps.
And eat, she thought sheepishly, glancing over at the small stack of empty plates on the table. Boy or girl, it was going to come out the size of a four-year-old if it didn’t slow down.
…see about hiring field equipment for spring, check vineyard possibilities(?), check new channel reception… This would probably be her last short trip before the move, and she wanted to be organized, to make sure that she took care of as many house details as possible. Jake would probably be back in time to help her unpack, but she’d like to keep the move as stress-free as possible for both of them. He missed his father a lot, she could see it in him every time they talked about the house or the baby, and she wanted to spend a few days with him just being friends. Puttering.
She was seriously debating whether or not to order up another plate of gingerbread when her door signaled. It was Nerys, just in time to save her.
“Come in,” Kas called, standing. “Good morning! Did you get enough sleep? You were still at Quark’s when I left, and that had to be after 2400 sometime.”
“Did Jake really leave?” Kira asked. “Nog told me he did, but I haven’t actually looked at the departure list since last night.”
Kas smiled, shaking her head. “Well, you know Jake and the limelight. That, and I got the feeling he was in a big hurry to get to Earth.”
Kira nodded, but didn’t seem to be listening. Kas noticed she was holding a padd at her side, and seemed a little edgy.
She doesn’t want to tell me something.
“So what brings you by this morning?” Kas asked, dropping one hand to her lower belly without even thinking about it.
Her nervousness must have showed. “Kas, it’s probably nothing at all, really,” Kira said, and Kasidy tensed even further. “Let’s sit down, all right? There’s a story.”
Kas sat, and Kira explained. Kira’s lost friend, the monk, had been carrying a book with her when she came to the station, and had hidden it soon after arriving. Ro Laren had found the hiding place—coincidentally, less than ten meters from Kas’s door—and believed that there was a chance the book had something to do with the murderer’s motive for killing Istani Reyla.
Kas’s initial unease slowly deepened—it was as though a part of her had expected this, had been waiting for it. As soon as the word “prophecy” cropped up, she had to interrupt, ready to get it over with.
“Is it a prophecy about Ben?” Kas asked, afraid that it was…but even more afraid that it wasn’t. Not the baby, please, not the baby—
“Kasidy, listen to me—I don’t believe that anything in the book can be verified as coming from a credible—”
“Nerys, tell me,” Kas interrupted, really starting to worry.
“One of these alleged prophecies says that your baby will be an important figure in the lives of the Bajoran faithful,” Kira said, quietly and directly. “And although I absolutely believe the entire book is a fake, I thought you should know.”
Kas was nodding, trying to accept what she was saying, her heart pounding. Her baby, the little somebody who liked ginger and made it hard to sleep comfortably, whom she already loved and was committed to, a religious figure for the Bajorans.
You knew this was a possibility when you got married, take a breath. She’d had the wonderful but rotten luck to fall in love with the Emissary, after all, and had come to a slow, careful acceptance of what that entailed…for herself. She’d avoided thinking about what would happen to the child of the Emissary, hoping the baby would take toward her side of the family. Her distinctly normal, pleasantly nonmystical family.
She thought she could deal with it. It wasn’t what she wanted, but she understood that everything wasn’t up to her. And she’d come to some very positive realizations about herself, about her feelings for the little somebody; she would protect her, or him. Kas had never been a violent person in any way, but in just a few weeks, she’d come to understand the capacity for it in her life—no one would hurt the baby, or they wouldn’t be around long enough to regret being born.
“Okay,” Kas said, still nodding, taking another deep breath. “Okay, it could be worse. What does it say, exactly?”
Kira held out the padd, presumably the translation to the book. “Kas, I think you should read it. I’m sure this is going to turn out to be some kind of elaborate hoax, to deceive an artifact collector, or extort gain somehow…but it may mean that you’ll be in the public view again, until the official denunciation is made.”
Kasidy took it from her, suddenly realizing that some of the tension in Kira’s stance was from fear, whether she admitted it or not.
She’s trying to convince me that it’s not real, because she doesn’t want to believe it, either.
“I’ve never known you to shy away from the truth, Nerys,” Kas said softly. “What does it say?”
Kira hesitated, but must have realized that she wasn’t making things any easier. “The book says there will be a sacrifice made before the birth, to ensure that everything will be ready when the baby comes,” Kira replied, searching Kas’s face for a response. “A Bajoran sacrifice.”
Kasidy was starting to feel sick. “What? A person?”
“Ten thousand people.”
Kas’s fingers were numb, holding the padd. “Ten thousand Bajorans are supposed to die before the big miracle, is that right? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“I’m telling you that either some unknown lunatic nonbeliever wrote that down a long time ago, or someone made it up entirely, Kas,” Kira said firmly. “And now it’s a piece of evidence in a criminal investigation, and that’s the only context it belongs in.”
Get away, protect the baby.
Kasidy made the decision as the words were leaving her mouth, giving over to a sudden surge of protective instinct. “I’m going to be moving sooner than I expected,” she said. “I was planning on going to the property, anyway. To finish up, I mean.”
To visit my new home, to finalize a few last details. On a planet that worships the beings who keep taking things from me, and
the more I give, the more they demand. My husband, my peace of mind, a normal childhood for our baby.
Maybe she shouldn’t be moving to Bajor at all.
“Kas, I’m going to resolve this as soon as I can,” Kira said. “The investigation won’t take more than another day, I’m sure. Ro is expecting some test results on Reyla’s killer, to make an identification, and then it should be over. Please stay.”
Kas was unhappy with all her choices, but it wasn’t Kira’s fault. And Kira had been a good friend to her, asking nothing in return for helping her make Ben’s house a reality.
“I’ll stay, but I want to read this,” Kas said, looking down at the padd and then back at Kira again. “All of it. I need to know what else it says.”
Kira nodded reluctantly, and stood up. “Of course. I should be in my office most of the day, if you want to talk.”
After she’d gone, Kas stared at the padd for a long time, wishing there were someone to blame for such craziness, someone to hold responsible for the things that had happened in her life since she met Ben Sisko. He was worth it, she believed, most of the time; other times, she had to wonder.
After breakfast, Vaughn decided to see if there was a holodeck available. Picard had called for a senior staff meeting, probably to suggest a few defense adjustments, and Vaughn was feeling restless.
He was in luck, two rooms open. It was a luxury he rarely indulged in, holodeck time, generally preferring to read—but he’d decided over breakfast that he’d like to relax with his thoughts for a while. He felt a need to analyze some of what he’d been going through.
“Computer, do you have ‘Life Cycle Meditation/Old Growth Forest’? Program number 06010, I think.” Vaughn doubted the Enterprise-E would carry it; it was one of the earliest holoprograms.
“Affirmative.”
“Run it,” Vaughn said, smiling as he punched in his visitor code and a time call. It had been at least ten years since he’d used the program, but he’d thought about it several times since his experience with the Orb, remembering it wistfully.
