Warchild Page 16

  The path became steep, the trees thicker. Despite his excellent physical condition, Dr. Bashir's legs began to complain under the constant strain. He breathed more and more heavily, until just when he felt ready to give in and ask the Borilak Selinn for a rest, they emerged from the trees into a small clearing on the flank of the mountain.

  "In the cave." Borilak Selinn took Julian's arm and steered him across the open ground toward a low stone arch. As Julian stumbled along, he noted the unmistakable signs of habitation everywhere. Here was neatly stacked wood and there the fragments of a broken clay water jug, the edges still wet and shiny. A tumble of poles and leather lashings might have been a drying rack for meat or laundry when set up. He tripped over what looked like a hank of rags. The toe of his boot flipped it over; the charcoal-drawn face of a child's doll smiled up at him.

  Then the blackness of the cave swallowed him.

  "Commander?"

  A shadow fell across Benjamin Sisko's table at the Replimat. He looked up to see a stocky, plainly dressed Bajoran regarding him as happily as if he were an old friend, newly found.

  "Do I know you?" Sisko asked, bemused.

  "May I?" The Bajoran indicated the empty chair across from Sisko's. Benjamin nodded, still perplexed. The man sat down, his smile rigidly in place. "Forgive me if I am intruding, but I recognized from your description and when I saw you sitting here I thought it might be better to conduct our business informally, rather than see you in your office. You must have many other official matters to look after, and what we must settle is really so simple that—"

  "Have we business?" Sisko was no longer puzzled; he was annoyed.

  The Bajoran gasped and snapped his fingers as if he had just remembered something that made him laugh. "I do beg your pardon, Commander! How foolish of me. I assumed that because I knew you, you must also know me!" He clicked his tongue indulgently over his own folly. "I am Kejan Ulli, a representative of the Dessin-ka. And by the way, if we have not yet commended your Major Kira for the way she so ably protected our beloved child, consider it done."

  "Kejan Ulli …" The name was familiar. Sisko recalled it from Major Kira's report. Despite this man's air of joviality, he could be ruthless. "What is your business with me?"

  "Why, the child, of course." Kejan Ulli acted surprised. "The Nekor."

  "Talis Dejana will be presented to your people, as agreed, in the Temple at the festival of Berajin."

  Kejan Ulli's smile grew harder. "Berajin is not so far off, and the child is here. Why must we delay? I will escort her to the Temple personally."

  "I'm sorry, I can't allow that." Sisko was firm. "The Kai's message did not say that this child was to be found for the Dessin-ka alone. If I turn her over to you, there might be accusations of favoritism from among the other factions within the provisional government. If, however, she is conducted to the Temple by representatives of Starfleet, no one can make any such charges."

  Now Kejan Ulli was not smiling. "You do not trust the Dessin-ka?"

  "It's not a matter of trust. The child is my responsibility."

  "Then I suppose you will refuse me even to see the Nekor." Kejan Ulli bit the words off short.

  "I never said that. You're welcome to visit her. Would now be convenient?"

  "Very." It was a snarl.

  Sisko stood up and had the Bajoran accompany him. When Kejan Ulli saw the infirmary sign, he balked.

  "What is this?" he demanded. "Why is the Nekor kept here?"

  "Talis Dejana has spent most of her life in a refugee camp. The infirmary is the best place for her to gain strength and to correct symptoms of malnutrition," Sisko explained. "She's receiving the best of care."

  The Bajoran scowled. "We'll see." He strode past Sisko without apology and accosted the first aide he saw. "Where is the Nekor?" The crewman only stared. Kejan Ulli seized the man's arms and shook him, repeating the demand: "Where is the Nekor?"

  Sisko pulled the Bajoran away. "You will not treat my crew in that manner," he directed, voice a powerful rumble. He hustled Kejan Ulli aside and added, "Hardly anyone here except for my most trusted crew members knows that Talis Dejana is the Nekor, as you call her. For security reasons, understand?"

  Kejan Ulli tried to make light of it. "No harm done. As you said, Berajin is almost here. The Nekor will soon be among those capable of protecting her holy person without having to resort to such games. Now take me to her." He showed his teeth briefly. "Please."

  Smoldering, Sisko conducted the Dessin-ka agent to Talis Dejana's bedside. In Dr. Bashir's absence, Lieutenant Dax had seen to the child's comfort personally, setting up a temporary cubicle in what was usually an open ward. Within the movable walls, Talis Cedra sat beside his sister's bed, a wary eye on the life-sign readings while the two of them talked. Commander Sisko frowned when he heard the girl's lighthearted giggles degenerate into a spasm of coughing, but it soon passed.

  "Oh!" Cedra went on guard as soon as he spied Kejan Ulli standing at Commander Sisko's side. "What do you want?"

  Kejan Ulli's false smile was back in place. He was hardly aware of Cedra's presence. His eyes shone as he stared wolfishly at Dejana. He took several steps toward her, hands outstretched, as if he intended to scoop her out of the bed. The little girl cringed and groped for Cedra's hand. Sisko saw Cedra's brown fingers squeeze reassurance into Dejana. That one clasp worked wonders: the child sat up straight and met Kejan Ulli's officious advance with a look that made the grown Bajoran hesitate and pull back before he dared touch the girl.

  "Commander Sisko, why is this one here?" Dejana inquired, her hard stare never swerving from Kejan Ulli.

  "He's Kejan Ulli, a representative of the Dessin-ka," Sisko replied. "He has my permission to visit you."

  "But he does not have my permission," the child stated.

  Kejan Ulli fell to one knee at the foot of the bed. "Holy one, have I your permission?" he implored.

  Dejana's eyes flickered toward Cedra. The boy said, "As you wish," although the girl had said nothing. He moved smoothly away from the bed to stand beside Commander Sisko. Dejana beckoned Kejan Ulli, who needed no second invitation. He hastened to take the spot that Cedra had vacated.

  "You are not a patient man, Kejan Ulli," Dejana said with the same remarkable self-possession Sisko remembered from his interviews with the Kai Opaka. It was all the more remarkable coming from one so young.

  Is this the same child I saw less than a minute ago, so scared of Kejan Ulli? he wondered. The transformation was astounding.

  Meanwhile, it was the Dessin-ka agent's turn to squirm. "Holy one, it is only because I am so eager to serve you."

  "You would serve me better if you showed more respect for your brothers. You fired at Remis Jobar when there was no need."

  "I only stunned him," the Bajoran said, some of the fawning reverence freezing out of his voice.

  "That is not what you intended to do, at first," the girl replied. The words had a perceptible effect. Kejan Ulli pulled back, his face fighting to conceal shock.

  "I never—"

  "You did." Dejana was calm. "But by good fortune you turn—were turned from your intention. You may thank the Prophets for that. I would not have had a murderer among my chosen attendants."

  "Your chosen—?" All suspicion vanished from Kejan Ulli's expression when he heard Dejana's words. "You were nowhere near when I felt the Prophets' inspiration, telling me to show mercy to the one who stole you away. How could you know, unless you truly are—?Oh, this is better than I hoped!"

  "Don't get so excited," Cedra drawled. "I was the one who told you you'd do better to switch your phaser to stun."

  Kejan Ulli glowered at the boy, but Dejana said, "He knows you were the one who told him, silly! He also knows that it was the Prophets speaking through you." Cedra snorted. Dejana turned to Kejan Ulli. "My brother's like that. Don't pay any attention to him. I think he's jealous."

  Sisko thought he saw the girl stick out her tongue at her brother, just like
a normal child her age. Suddenly a fresh attack of coughing shook her body. She sankback against her pillows under the horrified eyes of the Dessin-ka agent.

  "What is the matter with her?" he demanded of Sisko.

  "It's a cold, one that's taking a little longer than usual for her to shake off, according to my science officer. That's why we've kept her here, so that she can be well cared for."

  "Is that so? Then why is she not constantly attended by a healer?"

  "It's only a cold," Sisko stressed. "She'll be fully recovered in plenty of time for Berajin."

  "I will see to that," Kejan Ulli stated. "My report will recommend the immediate dispatch of three healers for the Nekor's exclusive service."

  "Dessin-ka healers, I assume?" Sisko asked. Kejan Ulli's smirk as good as said What else? "Impossible. Talis Dejana is not the property of the Dessin-ka. The Kai's letter—"

  "We are well aware of the Kai's letter. There are many within the provisional government who are already busy trying to lay claim to the holy one's attention and patronage, even if it entails denying that she is the Nekor, of blessed prophecy. We of the Dessin-ka will not stoop to their level. However, we also will not stand by and allow the holy one to suffer needlessly simply because Starfleet and the Federation are incapable of giving her the care she requires." With a condescending look, he spread his hands and addressed Commander Sisko: "A child is sick and we offer help; in mercy's name, can you forbid us?"

  "If that's your only motive, I can't forbid it," Sisko said. Then, as the smile of victory was still forming on Kejan Ulli's lips, he added, "I will inform the provisional government that the Dessin-ka have generously offered to dispatch three healers to work with the sick children still in the refugee camps on Bajor."

  Kejan Ulli's objection was intercepted by Dejana, who recovered enough from her coughing spell to clasp his hand and hoarsely say, "You will be blessed for this." The cough took her again. Cedra dashed out and returned in the blink of an eye with a female nurse, who gave the girl an injection that silenced her cough.

  "She needs to sleep now, sir, she informed Sisko.

  The commander and the Dessin-ka agent left Cedra helping the nurse make Dejana more comfortable. Sisko considered the reports he'd had about the boy. It was as if there were two Cedras sharing one skin. Word had reached Sisko from the infirmary staff that when Cedra was not visiting his sister, he lingered to observe how other patients were treated.

  "He's so quiet, we'd never know he was there," one aide said. "Except eventually he always has some comment to make about the way we're taking care of this case or that. I've let him help out a few times. From what I hear, he's a troublemaker, but you'd never know it to see how he behaves here."

  A troublemaker, yes. Sisko deplored the boy's escapades with the station holosystem. It was bad enough that his son Jake ran around with Nog, but with Talis Cedra in the pack, the mischief the three of them got into had taken a distinctly creative turn. And yet …

  "Very clever, Commander." Kejan Uli brought Sisko sharply back to the present. "Naturally we will obey the Nekor's wishes concerning the healers, but that does not mean we will tolerate the holy one abiding in the midst of unbelievers any longer than need be."

  "Kejan Ulli, no matter what you think, we are not holding the Nekor here to keep her away from you, or anyone," Sisko said, trying to be patient. "The decision to have her remain aboard Deep Space Nine was made for the child's sake alone, because of her health."

  "Am I to take your word for that?"

  "I hope you will."

  "As if I had a choice." Kejan Ulli gave him a venomous look. "Of course you have the authority to decide where the holy one stays until her presentation at the Temple. I, on the other hand, have a certain amount of authority as well." He reached into the bosom of his robe and produced a folded document, which he presented for Sisko's perusal. "On that authority, granted to me by the elders of the Dessin-ka, I ask that the child known as Talis Dejana be brought to the Temple on the eve of Nis Thamar, four days from now."

  "The agreement was that she would be brought to the Temple for the festival of Berajin," Sisko protested hotly. "I don't care who authorized you to make such unreasonable demands, I will only honor the arrangements made with the provisional government—arrangements made with the full knowledge and consent of the Dessin-ka."

  "You are a man of honor, Commander." Kejan Ulli did not make it sound like a compliment. "But you are not a man of knowledge. According to the beliefs of my people, the festival of Berajin begins on the eve of Nis Thamar." He tucked the authorization document away again. "And I am entirely within my rights to request that the presentation of the Nekor take place then without violating the previously made agreement."

  "And you'll insist on this, even if the child hasn't recovered her health?"

  "Really, Commander," Kejan Ulli sneered. "You sidestepped my offer of medical assistance so artfully, I thought your people could work miracles. The eve of Nis Thamar: we shall expect the Nekor to be there, and in good health, or we will see to it that the Federation answers for the consequences." He was gone in a swirl of somber robes.

  "Get out, Vung," Quark said, slamming a drink down on the bar. "This is your last one. You wouldn't even have this one if I didn't have that Bajoran bartender on duty. He doesn't know you, but I do. Drink up and get out."

  "Why? What have I done?" The other Ferengi tried to meet Quark's angry dismissal with the same look of wounded innocence Quark himself favored when dealing with Odo or Major Kira. There was just something about this Ferengi's face that made such an expression impossible.

  "Word travels fast," Quark replied. "When my brother Rom told me he'd seen you aboard DS9, I hoped it was just a bad dream. Then you turn up here."

  "Just passing through in the course of business," Vung said, resting his elbows on the bar and steepling his stubby fingertips. The threadbare, shabby clothing he wore did not make him look like the typically successful Ferengi businessperson. "I'm bound for the wormhole. I've come into possession of a nifty little gadget—a surefire big seller—that no one's licensed to manufacture in the Gamma Quadrant … yet. Maybe I can cut you in. Interested?" His chummy smile revealed more than a few missing teeth.

  "I don't need a cut of your kind of business," Quark responded.

  "Oh, come, come! You're forgetting the eighth Rule of Acquisition: Only a fool passes up a business opportunity.

  "Then there ought to be a Rule Eight-and-a-half: Only an idiot takes a business opportunity you offer".

  Vung shrugged. "Have it your way. My ship leaves within twenty-four hours. I won't bother you again. But I will finish this." He held up his glass, made a mocking gesture of toasting Quark's health, and sipped it slowly; very slowly.

  Quark showed his teeth in frustration and removed himself far enough from Vung to be able to keep an eye on him without appearing to associate with him. The other Ferengi noticed, understood, and sipped his drink even more slowly, savoring Quark's displeasure.

  It was while Quark was eyeing Vung and polishing the same glass for the twentieth time that he felt a tapping at his elbow. "Uncle Quark?" It was Nog.

  "What do you want?" Quark demanded, never taking his eyes from Vung.

  "I just wanted to— Who is that?" Now Nog's eyes followed his uncle's hostile stare.

  "No one any decent Ferengi would ever associate with willingly," Quark snapped. "None of your business."

  This reply only served to fascinate Nog even more. "Why? What did he do?" His voice dropped dramatically as he added, "Give someone a refund?"

  Quark grabbed his nephew by the scruff of the neck and hustled him away. "If you must know, that is Vung. Remember the name: there are certain quarters where it's considered a dirty word. That—that person was once a trader second only to the Grand Nagus himself! What a touch, what a touch he had! The deals that fell into his lap, the bars of gold-pressed latinum he amassed, the females of all species who—"

  "That's why I
shouldn't have anything to do with him?" Nog was nonplussed.

  Quark paused long enough to wipe the corners of his mouth. He addressed Nog in the strictest tones: "Don't be as big a fool as your father, boy! If Vung had gained all that through skill, I'd sell you and Rom wholesale just to hear one lesson in salesmanship from his lips. But it wasn't skill; it was luck. The lobeless wonder said he had a fortune-token, a lucky talisman that he'd bought from a wandering Andorian tradesman. Paid full price for it!"

  Nog made a face, appalled to hear of such obscenity. "And that's what did it for him?" He glanced at Vung, who was still nursing his drink. The outcast Ferengi grinned at the boy, who looked sharply away. "Some lousy piece of junk jewelry?"

  "Junk?" Quark repeated. "Only let me get my hands on that kind of 'junk'! The point is, it worked. So Vung said and everyone saw the proof. Until the day he was waylaid by a Cygnetan dancing girl. She tried to steal the charm from around his neck while he slept."

  "Did he cut her throat, Uncle Quark?" Nog wore a cheerful, bloodthirsty grin.

  "Him? He slept right through it. She stole the talisman and got away clean. But she didn't get the chain it hung from, and that was Vung's real undoing." Quark sighed. "The luck was in the whole necklace, chain and charm together. One without the other is worthless—worse than worthless!"

  "Worse than worthless? Why? How?"

  "First, he lost his fortune. Then, when he tried to acquire another, he had the longest run of twisted luck you ever saw. Good things still fell into his lap, but they somehow managed to slither right out again. Sometimes they bit him first. Luck smiles on him a dozen ways, and each and every smile spits right in his eye. Sometimes other people get a taste of his misfortunes if they stand too close." Quark shivered. "He knows it's the charmless chain doing it to him, but does he foist it off on some unsuspecting customer? Oh no! He holds on to it in hopes of one day finding the fortune-token again. Until then, he's a living jinx—a jinx with the best bad luck in the universe!" Quark's gaze flickered from Nog to Vung and back. "So say what you've got to say and make it snappy. I want him out of my place before he decides to tryhis 'luck' at Dabo."