Strange New Worlds X

by Dean Wesley Smith

  In the void of space, a dimensional corridor opened. Inside fought two ragged, bearded men. Both unable to die or age, with one of them mad in his hatred toward the other. They stared in shock at Sisko’s arrival, which wasn’t surprising, given they had been imprisoned in such torment for almost thirty years.

  “Please leave,” the sane one begged, staring past Sisko at the rift opening. “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

  Sisko glided past them before propelling them out into space amidst their screams. He shut the rift. In this existence outside of time and space, he neither saw nor heard anything. Yet his corporeal tether allowed him to sense the destruction of both universes, while feeling the death of the Pah-wraiths.

  Sisko realized he was the only being in all of existence. A disconcerting feeling, even for one who had become a Prophet. There remained no matter, future, present, or past. Simply nothingness all around him.

  With great reverence, he opened his hands. There lay the pulsating glimmer of the beginning of time, which he had retrieved in order to start time all over again. Without intervention from him, existence would play out exactly the same. Every birth, death, and decision would converge into the same tapestry that had allowed the matter and antimatter universes to expand side by side.

  Now all he had to do was wait for trillions and trillions of eons to pass. He found it curious that in his noncorporeal state outside of linear time, how quickly existence played out. Yet at the same time, he realized he shouldn’t be surprised. After all, up until the moment of his existence, eternity was just starting.

  He awaited two particular events. After the first occurred, he held the life energy of two beings, one in each hand. As the second event started, he watched his corporeal self, poised to attack Dukat. The Cardassian stood at the edge of the fire caves with the Kosst Amojan in hand.

  The Sisko prepared to return to the confining body he once knew, but now with a simple message: “Include the book.” But just before doing so, he deposited two similar individuals, each into their respective universes, on Bajor.

  Sisko remained hunched over, held in place by Dukat’s will, now that the Cardassian was possessed by the Pah-wraiths. He stared up into Dukat’s blood red eyes, feeling helpless in the face of pure evil.

  “Then I’ll stop you!” a voice said to one side.

  Sisko turned to see Kai Winn hold the Kosst Amojan above her head, until it was torn from her grasp and appeared in Dukat’s hand. With a sneer, Dukat muttered, “Are you still here?”

  “Emissary!” Kai Winn shouted. “The book!” Sisko could only watch as Dukat conjured up licks of flames from the fire caves to consume Kai Winn. She screamed in torment before dissolving to nothing.

  “Farewell, Adami,” Dukat hissed.

  Sisko felt a brief lapse in Dukat’s hold and lunged at his nemesis. Just then, he heard a voice in his head say, “Include the book.” He hadn’t considered how important Winn’s plea may have been, but now he made sure to grab the text as he tackled Dukat and both men fell into the flames….

  Lazarus stared up at the Bajoran sky, feeling the hot sun on his face. He sat crouched over his garden, when his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a transporter. He turned to see his dark-haired daughter materializing near the front of his modest country house. With a smile, he opened his arms and she ran into them. “Back from school already?”

  “The teacher let us go early,” the eight-year-old said. “But guess what I learned today?”

  “Oh, I couldn’t possibly guess,” he said.

  The door to their house opened to reveal his lovely wife, smiling as she approached. She was a Bajoran, who had passed on some of her nose wrinkles to their daughter.

  The little girl spoke in an excited rush. “We learned that back on Earth they had a man named Lazarus too. And according to the story, he came back from the dead.”

  “Really?” Lazarus stroked his beard. “Well, I guess I can relate to that.”

  His daughter frowned, until he started tickling her. She giggled, dropped her books, and frolicked in the yard. When his wife drew near, they slid their arms around each other.

  “What did you mean by that?” she asked. “Does it have to do with your past, which you refuse to share?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Aren’t you ever going to tell me?”

  Lazarus’s smile faded. “No. Recalling it means risking that I’ll never forget.” Before she could ask another question, he said, “Now let’s get ready for services and let the Prophets know how much we appreciate them.”

  His little girl stopped running. “Ah, Dad. Do we have to? Can’t we just stay home and play?”

  Lazarus felt his wife tense at their daughter’s reluctance, but his gentle squeeze relaxed her. “No, it’s important we go.” He looked back up at the sky and squinted against the sun’s brightness. “We definitely need to go.”