“Were fighting a war too.”
“I guess…” Sisko murmured. “So Roeder was yet another casualty.” Sisko put the baseball down and smiled. “And some of us go on to fight another day?”
Jadzia Dax smiled back. “Well, some of us,” she said, “are just indestructible.”
Odo eased himself into the seat next to Garak. “I forgot to ask,” he said, “how was Earth?” At the far end of the bar, Quark put the stopper in the bottle of Saurian brandy he had been watering and came over eagerly to listen.
Garak put down his glass, opened his mouth to speak, stopped, thought for a while, considered replying, and then thought for a little while longer.
“I was punched repeatedly by pacifists,” he said at last.
“So,” said Quark, picking up a cloth and wiping the bar. “Much as you expected, then?”
Frankly, Felix had written, I think your obsession with Earth in the 1960s is verging on the obsessive, but who am I to come between a man and what’s obviously a rich fantasy life? So here’s a little magic—Vegas-style.
Obsessive. Julian snorted. This from a man who stayed up till the early hours of the morning tweaking hologram programs. The cheek of it.
PS, Felix had added, Vic is something special. Treat him right and he’ll see you right. And, Julian had to admit, Felix had told the truth on that score, no matter how poor his psychiatric evaluations. He checked the time. It was fifteen minutes since Ensign Walker had come off duty, and she would be here soon. Julian tugged at his bow tie, and then started fiddling nervously with his cuff links. Up on the stage, Vic had just come to the end of his set. Julian joined in the applause, and waited for Vic to join him at the bar.
“So,” Vic said as he sat down beside him, “where’s this girl of yours? The one you can’t stop talking about?”
“She should be here soon, Vic—she’s very excited. Can’t wait to meet you.”
“Everyone wants a look at the light bulb, huh?”
“Actually, I think she wants to thank you for getting me to ask her out one more time.” Julian looked at him anxiously. “You know, after you’ve met her, if you’ve got any more advice you’d care to give…”
Vic laughed and shook his head. “Hey, pally—I just helped you on your way. What you do with her now is your own business.”
Julian laughed too, and leaned back against the bar. Up on the stage, the band had started up again.
“You know,” Vic said, “the first time you came in here, your face was so long it left a mark on the carpet.”
Julian shrugged. “I think I was going through a bit of a rough patch.”
Vic looked at him thoughtfully. “Those spy fantasies,” he said. “Running around outside the law. They’re fun for a while, and then the charm really wears off, huh?”
“You said it, Vic.” It came out a little more fervently than Julian had intended. He saw Vic watching him closely, and he laughed it off. “Believe me, that’s one game I do not intend to play again any time soon.”
“You saw sense?”
“More like a friend talked sense.”
“Well, that’s what friends are for,” Vic said. They stood and watched the band for a while, Vic tapping his fingers against the bar.
Odo had talked some good sense, Julian thought, and he was grateful for it. He listened to the music, and found himself thinking about that little wooden box. He had no doubt it was still languishing on Odo’s desk.
“Vic,” Julian said, suddenly.
“What is it, pally?”
“This friend of mine.”
“What about him?”
“I think you might just be able to help him out….”
That was how it happened. Some men went on a journey. Some strangers came to town.
About the Author
Una McCormack discovered Deep Space Nine very late in its run, but loved it immediately for its politics, its wit, its ambiguity, and its tailor. She enjoys classic British television and going to the cinema, and she collects capital cities. She lives with her partner Matthew in Cambridge, England, where she reads, writes and teaches. She is the author of the short story “Face Value,” which appeared in the DS9 tenth anniversary anthology Prophecy and Change, and the novel The Lotus Flower, which appeared in Worlds of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Volume One.
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