by S. D. Perry
Teacher Prophets, Kira remembered from the book, and shivered. She knew that a lot of non-Bajorans believed the Prophets to be an alien species. Even Benjamin, who had been Touched by them…
…but if the book isn’t a hoax…
She’d read it, and been convinced that it was a fake because of how accurate the alleged prophecies were; skewed against faith and lacking any moral context, but factually correct. Kira felt an odd emptiness in the pit of her stomach, thinking about the prophecy of the Avatar.
“He managed to snare a few who’d lost their way with his sacrilegious views,” Yevir continued, “forming a cult that existed to protect his heretical book, to keep it safe. They tried to promote their sickness, but the vedeks of that time put a stop to it. And that’s where the story ends. The cult disappeared with the book.
“Once B’hala was discovered by the Emissary, the Assembly began to watch the digs for a number of things, Ohalu’s book among them.”
“To officially denounce it,” Kira said slowly, wishing that she hadn’t been so quick to give the book to Kasidy.
Yevir’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “To destroy it, Nerys. Don’t you understand how dangerous it is? Istani Reyla read it, and brought it before the Assembly—and tried to convince us to turn the book over to the wife of the Emissary, saying that she should be told about one of the prophecies.”
Oh, no.
“Prylar Istani was shouted down, but refused to surrender the artifact. She ran from the Assembly hall, surely driven to madness by whatever she found in that book. We have no idea what she planned to do with it, but if she could believe even a part of it…” Yevir shook his head. “The book destroyed her.”
But I read it, too. Kira was shocked and concerned and confused, but she felt sane enough. For the moment.
“Where’s the book now? How many have seen it?” Yevir asked, as Kira looked past his shoulder and saw both Kasidy and Ro at the door to her office, Ohalu’s book in Ro’s hands. Neither woman looked happy.
“My security officer found it during her investigation into Istani’s murder,” Kira said, no longer sure how she should feel about what was unfolding. All she could do was tell the truth now, as Yevir had done. “She and I both read it, and probably my science officer, who had it translated…and so did Kasidy Yates. I gave it to her.”
“The Emissary’s wife,” Yevir said, his face pale. “We must pray, Nerys, that she’s not infected.”
Abruptly, Kira stood up, motioning for Ro and Kasidy to come in. It was time to straighten this out. The Allied task force was on the way, and there was too much work for her to do to continue wasting time on unnecessary etiquette. If everyone had been up-front in the first place, things wouldn’t have gotten this far.
“As to where it is now, and what we’re going to do about it…Vedek, allow me to make introductions,” Kira said. “I believe you’ve already met Kasidy Yates?”
There had been a match. The man who had stabbed the monk and then fallen to his death now had an identity, thanks to Bajor’s Central Archives. Ro picked up the book and started for Kira’s office, wanting to deliver the news personally.
Ro had just reached the ops lift on the Promenade when Kasidy Yates hurried to catch up to her, a padd in hand. Ro barely knew Captain Yates, but knew exactly what was on the padd; nothing else could account for the deep uneasiness on her face, the nervous tension in the set of her shoulders.
She must be on her way to see Kira, too.
They were the only two on the lift. Ro held the wrapped book tightly and nodded at Kasidy, not sure if she should say anything. She didn’t want to be drawn into a conversation about the book before she had a chance to talk to Kira.
“Lieutenant Ro…is that it?” Kasidy asked, nodding at the book. Instead of the fearful hush Ro might have expected, Kasidy’s voice was calm and clear.
“Yes,” Ro said uncomfortably.
“May I ask why you’re taking it to ops?”
Ro was still rummaging for a response when Kasidy shook her head. “Never mind. I suppose I’ll know if I’m meant to know, isn’t that one of the tenets?”
The tense, hostile tone wasn’t directed at Ro, although she thought it was, at first, because the alternative seemed impossible; Kasidy was the Emissary’s wife. Ro had heard that she wasn’t a follower, but had never suspected such a depth of disdain for the faith.
A non-Bajoran, left alone to raise their baby, left alone to face a world of believers.
Now that she actually thought about it, Ro realized that Kasidy didn’t have much cause to celebrate the Bajoran faith. Which made the prophecy even worse, the unfairness of Kasidy’s situation making Ro wish she’d never found the damned thing.
“Captain Yates, I’m sorry,” Ro said, sincerely meaning it. “If there’s anything I can do…”
“It’s Kasidy. And you can book me passage into another system,” she said, and although she actually managed a faint, sarcastic smile, her tone was serious.
The lift opened into ops and they both stepped off, both walking toward the colonel’s office. There were three Bajorans on shift, and Ro noticed that they each visibly brightened when they saw Kasidy. The wife of the Emissary either didn’t see it or didn’t care, her attention focused on Kira’s office. Ro saw through the front window that Kira was talking to a vedek, and felt a conflict of emotions—disappointment, curiosity, and a kind of dark anticipation that she would want to think about, later. It was a childish response to the circumstances.
“That’s Vedek Yevir, I think,” Kasidy said, as they stopped on the platform outside her office.
The popular vote to be the next kai. Ro knew he was on board, but hadn’t seen him yet. His back was to them, but from his hunched shoulders, he was definitely worried about whatever they were discussing.
And I wonder what that could be…
Kira stood up and waved them in. Kasidy immediately stepped to the door, Ro right behind her.
“…allow me to make introductions,” Kira was saying as the two women entered the office. “I believe you’ve already met Kasidy Yates?”
The vedek stood up and faced them, nodding respectfully at Kasidy. “Of course. It’s so nice to see you again, Captain.”
Perfectly calm, except he didn’t seem to want to look directly at Kasidy’s face for more than a second. Ro realized from the flush beneath his tan that he was reacting the same way the other Bajorans had reacted, only more so.
It’s like they think they’re in the presence of royalty.
“This is Lieutenant Ro Laren, our new chief of security. Lieutenant, this is Vedek Yevir Linjarin.”
She saw him glance quickly to her left ear, but he was discreet about it. “A pleasure, child.”
Ro didn’t answer, but Kira was already talking to Yevir again, her firm tone suggesting that she was following a course of action. Ro decided to see where she was going before she delivered the news.
“Lieutenant Ro appears to be holding Ohalu’s book. Lieutenant, Kas…Vedek Yevir has just confirmed that the book was written by a dangerous heretic from the time before B’hala. The Vedek Assembly wants it destroyed, and considering the nature of the text, I’m inclined to agree with them—”
Ro started to protest, and Kira raised her voice slightly, talking over her, staring directly at Ro as she finished. “—to agree with them, because the members of the Vedek Assembly are the leaders of Bajor’s spiritual community, and this artifact falls under the scope of their authority.”
Yevir was standing taller, reinforced by her blind trust. “Thank you, Nerys.”
Kira ignored him. She looked between Kasidy and Ro, nodding at each. “As I said, that’s my inclination. But I want to hear what you have to say about it…”
Her gaze sharpened on Ro, her expression sending a clear message—I already know what you have to say. Stay in your territory.
“…because it’s evidence in an inquest, and Kas, because the final prophecy concerns
you directly. Lieutenant Ro, do you have anything new to report on your investigation?”
Ro nodded. There was no way to say it but to say it. “Yes. The bio results from the Archives just came in. The killer’s real name is Gamon Vell. He was a vedek.”
Ro had half expected to feel some satisfaction, telling Kira that one of her perfect religious leaders in her perfect religion had been responsible. But the shock in Kira’s eyes, the look of betrayal behind it—
Ro had to look away, and she looked at Vedek Yevir…who didn’t appear to be the least bit surprised by her revelation.
Yevir Linjarin felt great shame as the lieutenant revealed the truth, but reminded himself that he was right to feel shame. The Assembly had chosen an unwise path, and trying to cover for one’s own responsibilities was not what the Prophets taught. And because he’d concealed the truth, the Emissary’s wife had been exposed to lies and turmoil.
The faithless security officer stared at him. They all stared, and he accepted their anger and disbelief, taking it in and releasing it to the Prophets, accepting his own part. Best to tell it all, and bring an end to the matter as best he could.
“When Istani fled the Assembly, we knew she would come here,” he said, taking a deep breath. He looked at Kasidy Sisko, praying that her distress wouldn’t upset the Emissary’s child, hoping that she would understand. “She believed in the prophecies, and wanted to show you part of the book. She said that you should know.”
He turned to Kira, knowing that of all of them, she would understand best. Her belief was strong, her pagh untainted.
“By the time we decided we should try to intercept her, she was already on her way here,” he said, looking into Kira’s wide eyes, not shying from her feelings. “Gamon Vell, one of the strongest proponents of the idea, volunteered for the task, and left immediately. We didn’t know that he was unbalanced, that his commitment to keeping this poison bottled would drive him to hurt her. There was never any intention to cause her harm, you must believe that, but we had to stop her from showing the prophecies to anyone else.”
Kira’s wounded gaze lay heavy in his heart. “I can’t believe this,” she said.
“Ohalu’s book is like a spiritual disease, you surely know that,” Yevir continued, not certain that Ro or Kasidy understood the gravity of what Istani had threatened, not like Kira. What he’d heard at the Assembly had been more than enough to convince him.
“Over thirty millennia ago, its influence polluted thousands of people, turning them away from the Prophets,” Yevir said. “They were outcasts, pariahs, and still, they clung to their sickness of ego and fatalism. Through thousands of years, cults of this ‘philosophy’ rear up time and time again, like new strains of a virus, and that book—” He pointed at the bundle in Ro Laren’s arms. “—is the source, the original flaw. It’s dangerous, it teaches that the Prophets aren’t deserving of Bajor’s love, and we must stop it from infecting anyone else, no matter what the cost.”
“Including Istani Reyla’s life?” Kira asked, incredulous in her anger. “And the life of Gamon Vell?”
Yevir shook his head. “No, of course not…but don’t you see, this only proves how treacherous Ohalu’s prophecies are. If she hadn’t been contaminated by the book, she wouldn’t have run from the Assembly, and—”
“Are you trying to tell us that she caused her own death?” Ro Laren interrupted, speaking quickly, her tone heated. “That she made you send somebody after her, because she had a book that offended you?”
“Ro.”
The warning in Kira’s voice seemed only to fan the lieutenant’s anger, but it also silenced her. She looked away, glaring, her head turned so that he could see her misplaced earring again. Yevir felt forgiveness in his heart for the hostile young woman, who so openly touted her inability to accept the Prophets. The book had probably only reinforced her estrangement.
“Excuse me,” Kasidy said, her voice surprisingly mild for the depth of the anger in it, a thread of steel running through her demeanor that demanded attention. She dropped the padd she’d been holding to Kira’s desk and crossed her arms, staring at Yevir as if he’d suddenly sprouted wings.
“Excuse me, but I read it. And I have to say, compared to some of what you consider to be legitimate prophetic writings, it’s more accurate and a lot more complete. So maybe you’re telling yourself that you’re actually scared for the spiritual purity of Bajor, and maybe that’s true…but maybe it’s also true that the Vedek Assembly wouldn’t look so good, if people knew about this book. Because that could mean that all those so-called heretics you’ve worked so hard to eradicate through the centuries…it could mean that you were wrong. That all along, you’ve persecuted people who had a justifiable belief system, just because it contradicted yours.”
The security officer had reigned herself in on the surface, her tone angry but less accusatory. The viciousness came out in what she chose to say. “The suppression of a divergent religion, because its credibility is a threat to your own.”
“It’s wrong, but I don’t know that I’d call lack of faith a religion,” Kira said uncomfortably. “Lack of faith doesn’t support any kind of spirituality.”
Kasidy pulled her arms tighter. “Nerys, that’s not exactly the point here.”
“I wasn’t trying to make a point. I’m just saying that the Bajoran faith is what has unified our planet. It defines us and our culture. It’s what has carried us through our darkest times.”
“Most of us,” Ro said, almost under her breath.
Yevir felt cold to the marrow of his bones, seeing their faces twist in fear and suspicion, the tension in their voices and bodies as their words sharpened.
“Don’t you see?” he asked, raising his voice to be heard. “Look at how the book’s sickness has already touched you, turning you from the face of the Prophets. What do you think would happen to Bajor?”
All three women fell silent, and for a few beats of his heart, he believed that they had finally grasped the nature of the disease—
—and then Kira, with a kind of furious determination about her that he’d never seen before, firmly pulled the book away from Ro Laren. She turned and thrust it at him, the book actually hitting his chest before he could fumble his hands into catching it.
“Nerys—” Yevir started, but she was already stalking from the room.
Ro and Kasidy both seemed shocked, and Yevir felt no less so. He thought he’d finally helped her to understand. Perhaps she felt torn between her spiritual and professional selves, which was a hard place to be…but he had faith in her. She had always turned to the Prophets for guidance.
She had given him the book, at least. Yevir was sorry for the things that had happened, but the Prophets had surely sanctioned the end result: the Vedek Assembly had possession of the unnamed thing, and would deal with it appropriately. For the peace of the Bajoran people, and to the glory of the Prophets.
Chapter Seven
So, I think I’m a little confused. I haven’t written in a while; it’s almost as though I forgot how important it is, being able to talk to myself. There have been times that I’ve written pages of words, just to narrow my feelings down to a single sentence. I know my recent lack of interest is because I haven’t wanted to talk to myself about Dad, but time is what I’ve got right now, time and a few questions I should already have asked.
I’m on the Venture , drifting inside the wormhole. The sensors are a mess, not that I care much. It’s funny, that now I find the time to think about what I’m doing a little more carefully. When I finally decided to do this, back at B’hala, I knew—absolutely—that I would stay for as long as it took, and that if I actually made it this far, I would spend every minute anticipating our reunion.
Ah, naive youth. And hope. Because I wanted so bad to believe that he isn’t gone, that these last few months have been just another adventure, another wild and seemingly desperate situation that all gets worked out in the end. Another situation that ends
with my father and me, together, because I love him and I miss him in my life. When I translated the prophecy, it was an answer. A solution.
I’ve been here a single day, and with each hour that passes, my doubt flourishes. This is what I’m starting to think: The prophecy is an answer because I haven’t been able to let him go. I was putting off the inevitable acceptance, and Istani Reyla showed up with a way out before I had to face my loss.
That’s kind of a harsh summary, and not the whole truth. The prophecy itself, the parchment in my hand—there’s power in it. It gives me a sense of the incredible, of the possible…. I’m not saying that the prophecy is false, just that my reasons for jumping right into it were certainly influenced by my hope.
Put like that, it seems too obvious. I’ve missed writing. I tell stories because I want to tell stories; I write because I want to understand.
The prophecy is real, I still believe that. I believe there’s something genuine about it, anyway. But I also believe that if it isn’t, if the whole thing turns out to be only madness and hope, I’ll be okay. There’s enough of me to take it.
I’ll wait. Time is the one thing I have too much of.
Chapter Eight
Finished with her meditation, Kira opened her eyes and shifted position, from kneeling to sitting cross-legged. She reached out and extinguished the candle atop her mandala, feeling much clearer about the events of the day.
She sat on the floor of her darkened living area, thinking, feeling more relaxed than she had in a while. She’d decided that she would actually break for a late dinner rather than pop another ration pack in her office, to have a few moments at the small shrine in her quarters, and she was glad she’d made the effort. The updated ETA for the first Allied ships was less than ten hours from now, it wasn’t as though she had a lot of time to spare, but a connection had been essential.
