by Неизвестный
In the center of the chamber, atop a strange piece of machinery covered with controls and monitors, lay the child. A boy, she saw at once, so large and healthy-looking that she couldn't believe he was dead.
Oh, my son, she lamented silently, why did you travel so far to come to such a barren place? Please forgive me. I never imagined my ambition and dreams of adventure would cost you your life.
"Let me turn off the stasis field," he said, touching one of the controls. The golden glow around her son faded as the energized field dispersed. "Take as much time as you need. I know you'll want to say goodbye." Ttan glided across the floor toward her child. The translator produced the unmistakable sound of sobs.
O'Brien cleared his throat. "I'll wait outside," he said.
Before the human could leave, however, an odd sizzling sound came from the medical equipment underneath the dead Horta. Sparks suddenly flashed from an array of burning circuits. Smoke billowed up to the ceiling.
Ttan froze. Was this some sort of malfunction, she wondered, or a bizarre human rite of cremation?
O'Brien rushed forward with a cry of alarm. Her baby twitched. Acid dripped from its cilia. "My God, it's eating the unit!" the human shouted.
Overcome with happiness, she lunged forward to embrace her son. She gripped him as if she would never let go. She felt him snuggle closer to her. The soft scent of his baby acids, so mild compared to her own, filled her with maternal pride.
"Commander," she heard o'Brien say. "I think you'd better get down here. I can't believe it, but.
the baby's alive! The shock of the vacuum must have :put it into a coma." Mother? the baby asked.
That's right, she said. I'm here.
EPILOGUE
QUARK SURVEYED his bar proudly. The sightseers had gone, but the profit remained. Five days after the Hortas had been beamed to the rogue moon, things had almost returned to normal. No, not quite normal, Quark decided. Odo was worse than ever.
The constable, leaning on the bar, shook his head and scowled, as he'd been doing repeatedly over the last few days.
"What is it this time?" Quark demanded.
"I'm just remembering how agreeably amorphous the Mother Horta's shape was," he said. "Now I'm stuck back in this awkward humanoid form sixteen hours a day to deal with the likes of you." "You can always turn into a gaming table," Quark said. 'Tll put you to good use. The two hundred and forty-third Rule of Acquisition clearly states--" "Or I suppose I could turn back into a Horta and finish this bar for lunch," Odo growled.
"Not necessary, not necessary!" Shaking his head, Quark swaggered over to the table where Dr. Bashir was, as usual, flirting with Dax. Quark doubted the doctor's efforts would be any more successful this time. After all, Quark thought, if I can't get anywhere with her, what chance does that eager puppy have?
"Another bottle of this excellent vintage," Bashir called with a grand gesture.
"Coming right up!" Quark replied. "The Chateau Picard, right?" "Uh, no, the good stuff," Bashir said.
As Quark fetched another bottle from behind the counter, Major Kira stormed in. Her leg had mended nicely, Quark thought, but her temper hadn't.
She stomped up to Bashir, snapped, "I have never fainted from shock!" Then she turned and stomped back out. Bashir blushed furiously. Dax looked amused.
Shaking his head, Quark brought a bottle of fifty- year-old Thunderbird back to Bashir and Dax, un- screwed the cap, and refilled both of their goblets.
"Anything else?" he asked.
"Not right now," Dr. Bashir said. He turned to Dax. "For a second there, I thought she was going to slug me!" Dax rose, her face an icy mask. "I'm getting very tired of the slug remarks, Julian." She stalked after Kira.
Julian rose. "But Jadzia--!" He ran after her.
Yes, Quark thought, things were definitely getting back to normal. Wiping his hands on his apron, he calmly screwed the cap back onto the bottle and carried it behind the bar. No sense wasting it, though of course it would show up on Dr. Bashir's tab.
He went into the storeroom to check on his new workers. Looking very unhappy, Nog and Jake were both on their hands and knees, laying a new tile floor.
Nog said, "We've almost finished fixing all the holes in the floor, Uncle." "Good," Quark said. "Next you can start on the walls." Jake groaned. Nog hissed in displeasure.
"Unless," Quark went on, "you want me to men- tion to your fathers how that first baby Horta got loose. Not to mention who deactivated the stasis field." In reply, the two boys redoubled their efforts.
Neither met his gaze. Quark cackled happily. With any luck, he could string them along for the next six months. He had a lot of repairs in mind... they'd save him a fortune in maintenance costs.
Actually, Jake had already 'fessed up to his father.
He couldn't admit that to Nog, though; he knew his friend would lose all respect for him if he found out. So, Jake thought as he carefully affixed another tile to the floor, I have to lie to my friend about telling the truth to my dad. He groaned, and not just because of his tired muscles. Trying to deal with humans and Ferengi at the same time made his head hurt.
Not that it mattered in this case. His dad had still insisted that Jake help repair the damage he'd caused.
And, as far as Jake knew, his father almost always got what he wanted, one way or another.
Benjamin Sisko had been refusing Vedek Sloi's calls for the last five days. Finally, in the sanctuary of his private office, he deigned to answer.
Her face was livid on the monitor. "This is an outrage," she began as her greeting. "You had no right to beam those Hortas to one of Bajor's sacred moons.
I'm drafting a formal complaint to Starfleet request- ing your removal at once." "On what grounds?" he asked evenly.
"You were explicitly told to keep those unholy monsters on Deep Space Nine," she snarled.
"Excuse me, but I believe you said--and I quote- 'The Hortas do not belong on or below the sacred soil of Bajor.' You said nothing about Bajor's moons. If you like, I can have the tape played for you." "A shameless technicality, unworthy of you. You knew they wouldn't be welcome on any Bajoran territory." "I'm sorry," he said. "I must have misunderstood.
If you like, I can have them recalled. But that would probably prevent them from finishing their report." "What report?" "On the vast mineral wealth hidden below the moon's surface." She paused. "Vast mineral wealth?" "Oh, nothing you'd be interested in, I'm sure. Just some uranium, pergium, and quite a bit of latinurn as well. But I know how your mind is occupied with spiritual matters, which are, of course, more impor- tant." Vedek Sloi leaned back thoughtfully. The silence stretched between them. "Vedek?" he asked.
"Perhaps," she finally said, "we have been too hasty. After all, a moon isn't Bajor." Benjamin said, "Then you don't want me to send the Hortas back to Janus VI?" There was another long pause. Then the Vedek spoke again.
"Perhaps," she said slowly, "a compromise can be worked out after all...."
Sisko smiled.
The End