Rising Son

by S. D. Perry

  He smiled bleakly at Jake. “I’m going to miss her,” he said.

  Jake nodded. “Me, too.”

  “She didn’t deserve to die like that,” Dez said, and felt the liquid sting in his eyes, the truth working on him as well…and wasn’t that why it was so effective? “Maybe there wasn’t anything else I could have done, but…but it’s hard not to think that. I…we all cared about her.”

  He looked at Jake, saw that the sensitive young man was also on the verge of tears…and let his own brim up, not fighting them, glad for the brandy that made them so accessible.

  “I want you to stay with us, Jake,” he said, absolutely sincere. “After Ee, we can take you back to your station, you can put things in order…and then you can come back here, with us. Not forever, but for a while…. We need you here, Jake. You’re one of us, now, you belong with us.”

  Jake was blinking back tears, and Dez let his own spill over, reminding himself that Stessie was dead, it was terrible, a reason to cry, truly…and some good could come of it if he could convince Jake to stay.

  “I need you,” he said, looking into Jake’s eyes, the words that Jake surely had wanted to hear from his father, that Dez had wanted so badly to hear from his own.

  He immediately dropped his gaze, easing back. “Think about it, at least,” he said, and sighed. “Now’s probably not the best time to make a decision…but at least think about it, all right?”

  He looked up, and saw exactly what he wanted to see—a struggle in Jake’s wet gaze, over a choice that was no longer simple. He’d played it well, and it was going to pay off. If not tonight, then soon.

  “I…I’ll think about it,” Jake said, standing.

  Dez nodded, staying seated as Jake walked to the door, keeping his shoulders slumped in spite of the triumph he felt.

  “Good night, Dez,” Jake said, pausing for a second in the entry, and Dez nodded, offered another wan, grateful smile…which widened as soon as Jake was gone.

  He’s going to stay.

  Dez poured himself another drink, silently toasting Stessie with it, feeling the sorrow come creeping back as he drank to his dead comrade…but it was easier to bear now, knowing that Jake wasn’t lost to him, that his young ward was more likely than ever to become a permanent crew member.

  “Thank you, Stessie,” he said, raising his glass again, wishing her well in whatever afterlife she’d gone to, hoping she understood how much she’d be missed…and how something good had come from her death, after all.

  Day 109, afternoon. We’ll be at Ee in a week, and I’ve made my decision. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be, though I’ve certainly taken my time with it…. It’s strange, how it seems inevitable, now that I’veactually decided to stay. In the three weeks since Stessie died, everyone has treated me like I’m one of the crew. After all we’ve been through together, from Drang to Hw17…I feel at home here, now.

  I told Dez this morning, and he’s going to make an announcement tonight, I guess, though I think everyone already knows. Dez’s elated. He’s been trying so hard not to push, too, though I’ve felt a little manipulated at times…but it’s only because he really wants me to stay. For all his dropped hints and semi-subtle plays, I saw his true face the night that Stessie died, I think, and it cleared up a lot—for one thing, why he’s been so friendly to me, from the very beginning. His big life adventure started when he went looking for his father, too…and I think maybe he wants to do for me what his father didn’t do for him. He’s such a good guy, he comes off as self-centered sometimes, but he really cares about people.

  Anyway, I think my staying on is the right thing, and it doesn’t have to be forever, just for a while. I know Kas will understand, and even Nog, once he gets used to the idea. I belong here now, until Dad comes home…and even then I’ll only be able to take a little time off to see him get settled, particularly considering that the Even will be doing a lot more “charity” work from now on (Dez says I shouldn’t talk about it too much, he wants to ease the crew into the program; I think he’s worried that Feg and Triv will quit!). I may not be able to get away for long, but I know Dad will feel good about me helping people; he’ll see that I’m making mature decisions, that I’m an adult, not just his son. Is it wrong of me, to want that? I hope not. I’m staying because I want to, not because of how my father might perceive it. He’s living his own life, and so should I.

  Everyone misses Stessie…I miss her a lot. It’s been good to talk about it, to Pif and Fac, to Dez and Brad and everyone else…strangely enough, even Glessin has been making some effort to bring it up. He sat with me at lunch a couple of days ago, obviously uncomfortable, but apparently determined to say what was on his mind, even if it did take the better part of an hour for him to get it out—that Stessie had died bravely and well. It seems he’s worked himself up to similar conversations with almost everyone on board. No one is sure why, or at least no one I’ve talked to about it, but I guess this is a first for him, trying to engage in conversation about anything, let alone something emotional. Good for him, I say. Pif is doubtful, but I think Pif has problems trusting non-mammalians (I’m fairly sure that Stessie was an exception).

  It’s so different from back on the station, losing someone close. Like after Jadzia died, Dad and I left for Earth, so I didn’t get much of a chance to talk about her, and then Ezri was there…. I don’t know, the circumstances were different, but I don’t remember anyone asking me how I felt about losing Jadzia. And it didn’t even bother me. I think I was just so used to being Ben Sisko’s son, to the people on DS9…like an accessory or something. Dad was always the important one, he was the focus, if that makes any sense. It always meant so much to me that I was his focus…. Anyway, it’s notlike that here. I feel like I’m on equal footing, like these are my people.

  I guess now I have to decide what I want to specialize in. Dez is still pushing geology, just because I mentioned that that’s what I liked about B’hala. Coamis has taught me a lot about GQ archeology, which is interesting (except he’s staying on, which kind of negates the need for that position)…and just about everyone else has offered to train me in their respective fields. Aslylgof makes a point of bringing up weapons every time he sees me (decent guy, but he and Morn should get together sometime, have a talk-off…I think I’d actually have to bet against Morn). Neane has shown me a few basic research skills…and Brad keeps telling me I’d look “lovely” in gems. She’s been flirting with me, I think, though I kind of let it get around that I have a girlfriend, which is not exactly the truth. I haven’t been serious about anyone since Mardah, but I don’t want to hurt her feelings. She is nice…but appearance to the contrary, Brad’s just too “girly” for me.

  I don’t know what I want to do. I always assumed I would be writing by now, because that’s what I know, it’s what I’ve always wanted…but the Even doesn’t need a writer. Put that way, I guess no one really needs a writer…in any case, I don’t have to decide right now. After Ee, maybe. From the stories I’m hearing, maybe I’ll see something there that will inspire me. The way everyone talks about it, it sounds like this giant, planet-wide market, where you can buy anything that’s ever existed, and meet every species in the universe. I’m sure they’re exaggerating (especially Pif), but it really does seem like a big deal. I guess the Alpha-Gamma conflict put a damper on trade, but Dez says Ee’s economy should be going full force by the time we get there. The Even hasn’t been in about two years, so everyone’s looking forward to it.

  Anyway, I should go. Facity wants to brush up on dom-jot before Ee, and I told her I’d be free this afternoon…plus Pif and Pri’ak were talking over breakfast about getting a ball game together later, and Neane was going to set aside some files for me to read, about the Rodulan basotiles….

  It’s a busy existence, fortune hunting, but a good one. I’m not waiting for my life to get started, anymore, and I’m not observing it as it happens; I’m just going to enjoy what comes, and trust in my frien
ds, and in myself.

  11

  “VESSEL Even Odds, noncom slash trade, number 2454al116-Ka, confirming orbit at coordinates provided,” Fac said, hurriedly punching the accompanying codes through the board. The first landing party was waiting in the transporter room, as eager as she was to get to the surface. “Local time at…eighteen hours four.”

  “Received, Even Odds,” a female’s voice responded a few seconds later, sounding decidedly harried. It was no wonder, considering; there were over a dozen starships sitting just outside the main port, twice as many personal vessels. “Welcome to Ee.”

  Facity nodded to Neane, reminded Srral to keep their transponders locked in, and was on the lift to the transporter room within seconds of the perfunctory welcome, adjusting her tri-band suit and imagining a hand-cooked meal.

  Wadi food, too, a nice curis rib, basted espods, a glass of real wints… Last time they’d been to Ee, there’d been two sit-down restaurants featuring Wadi cuisine, among others. Maybe this time around, there would be a Wadi-only, she thought, stepping off the lift. She didn’t see why not, the Wadi were surely responsible for half of Ee’s casino business….

  …May be a solid market there. If there’s not one already, I should ask the brothers to look into financing one of the stalls. It’d be a good long-term investment, to back a business on Ee. Retrieval was so hit-and-miss, it was difficult to look at long-term, but the Even had been doing well for some time. Besides, going into business was serious gambling.

  She walked into the transporter room, smiling broadly at the looks she received from her crewmates, all waiting on or near the pad. Aslylgof, Brad, Pif, Pri’ak, Jake, Coamis, the Ferengi brothers, Fajgin and Itriuma—and Dez, especially Dez—wore varying expressions of surprise, ranging from mild to openmouthed. It was a new outfit.

  “Let’s hope it’s not cold this evening,” Dez said, cocking an eyebrow.

  “We’re coming back after dinner, Captain,” Facity said, stepping up to the pad. “Or did you forget?”

  Dez sighed heavily, shaking his head. They’d agreed to head back to the Even early, to let the rest of the crew enjoy the first night’s leave to the fullest. Everyone had plans. Glessin, Neane, and Aslylgof all wanted to go to the library banks. Feg and Triv had been salivating for weeks over meeting with the big traders—including the Giani’aga box buyer, whom they were scheduled to meet with the following day—to talk about auctioning some of the doubles from the living artifact collection. Prees and Srral were planning to hit the equipment dealers, do some console-diving, Fajgin and Itriuma wanted to head to the chula hall, Brad wanted to shop…and, Facity suspected, meet up with a subspace date she’d been “secretly” corresponding with for months. She knew that Pif and Pri’ak had been dying to take Jake and Coamis on their first tavern hop. She also knew that Dez wanted to go with them, he was so excited about Jake staying…but somebody had to watch the ship, and she wasn’t going to do it by herself.

  Besides, it’ll be romantic. She caught his eye, grinning, as Prees worked the transporter controls. When they returned, they’d send Neane, Srral, Prees, and Glessin down to the surface, leaving just the two of them on board. Dez grinned back—

  —and then they were standing at the outer gate of the open-air market, breathing in the exotic smells of cuisine from a dozen worlds, bright colors and conversations and music all competing for attention. High above, the clear weather shield glimmered brightly between towers, defined by a grid of light lines that compensated for the fading day. From the lavender sparkling effect Facity could see in some of the unlit areas, the shield was also evaporating a light rain.

  The outside market had something like four hundred vendors now, she had heard. The market, and the shallow, pleasantly scented chemical lake that bordered it to the south and west, formed the southernmost area of Ee’s main port. The sprawl of outdoor food stands and small vendor shops behind the gate gave way to higher-quality restaurants and businesses to the north, municipal buildings—museums, the library, local government—to the northeast, and industrial fabricators and shipyards to the east. Throughout all of the roughly divided areas there were security checkpoints, taverns, and lodging houses, the quality of the latter two directly proportionate to the wealth of the businesses surrounding them.

  It was as loud and enticing as always, Facity thought, smiling, looking over to see Jake’s reaction, noting that the rest of the crew was doing the same. Jake seemed positively awestruck, his eyes wide and shining.

  A detachment of smiling security people stepped forward, running handheld scanners over their team, reminding them of the rules, no weapons-fighting-theftvandalism, no business conducted without proper licensing. Each of the crew received an official scan patch set for four days, dermed onto the back of either hand. Facity knew of a half-dozen places inside and out that sold “official” patches for the right price, but she had nothing against the government making a little money. Besides, they could afford to go it legitimate.

  As the security folk hustled them off of the landing pad, Facity turned to catch Jake’s reaction again, and saw him looking southeast, away from the gated city, a frown creasing his soft brown face as he studied the stretch of prefab huts and smudge fires that began several hundred meters away, that continued on for some indeterminate distance.

  “Who are they?” he asked, watching the ragged figures that moved slowly through the unsheltered dusk.

  “Beggars and parasites,” Feg answered, scowling. “And obviously inadequate ones, at that. They’re not even looking in our direction.”

  Facity smiled. “Maybe it’s their day off, or—”

  A sharp look from Dez, along with a glance at the still-frowning Jake, stopped her cold. Right, Jake. The kid had a soft spot for the poor, or people who were victims somehow….

  “—or maybe they’re just waiting for work permits,” she finished somewhat lamely. Jake didn’t seem to notice, at least, and Dez visibly relaxed.

  “Sure,” Feg scoffed. “Permits to eat leftovers, so they don’t have to work.” A few of the others nodded. The rest looked impatient, obviously eager to go through the gates.

  Dez glared at him. “That’s not fair, Feg.”

  Feg frowned, looking confused. “I thought you were the one who always said that if they have enough energy to beg, they probably have enough—”

  One of the security people, an Ee native from her coppery hair and black eyes, saved them.

  “Don’t concern yourself with those people,” she said brightly. “They’re just poor—new immigrants without resources, or the disabled, or the untrained. They’re clean, though, and they won’t bother you.”

  Jake didn’t seem placated. “But…do they have food, access to medical supplies?”

  The woman’s well-trained PR smile didn’t falter. “Of course.”

  “There, see?” Facity said quickly. “Everyone’s fine.”

  She turned to Dez, her own smile overbright. “I’m starving. And I could definitely use a drink.”

  That got a response from the rest of the crew. They all started moving toward the main gates, carrying Jake along with them. Jake shot one last, troubled glance at the poverty-stricken community and then let himself be led away.

  Facity and Dez brought up the rear, Facity slipping her arm around Dez’s waist as they walked, noting his troubled expression as he watched Jake. She knew it bothered him, that Jake had such liberal notions about money…not because Dez didn’t share those views, although he didn’t, but because he’d led Jake to believe that they were of a like mind.

  She suspected that Jake had agreed to stay on at least partly because of it, too…which was going to cause problems, sooner or later. She wasn’t first officer on a community-services ship, she was a gambler, living to risk or ride from score to score. And the others in the crew, while not averse to the occasional good deed, weren’t working to give things away, either. Jake was going to have to change his views…and she wasn’t so sure that it w
as going to be as easy as Dez seemed to think.

  Worries for another day; they’d reached the gate and the pleasures of Ee awaited. Facity put the unpleasant thoughts aside, adjusted one of the three narrow bands that made up her suit, and held out her hand to be scanned.

  The team split up immediately, off to their own vices, Facity making Pif and Pri’ak promise to keep track of Jake and Coamis before jiggling off to her private dinner with Dez. Pif promptly lost track of the others in his group, wandering the open market for the next hour or three, enjoying himself immensely. He saw at least six species he’d never seen before, and ate a candied roast-bird dish that was delicious, served on a piece of metal foil with hot spiced vegetable paste, and bought a whistle that changed colors and a souvenir Ee shield tower made out of sugarfruit. There was a lot of gossip to be overheard, people talking about Sen Ennis, a local religion or something, about the alleged end to the Dominion expansion problem (was it true, that a Jem’Hadar ship had been seen only yesterday, just off the main port? Pif doubted it), about the Iconian gateways, that thing he’d been stupid enough to bet against Facity on. He ran into an Aarruri couple outside a leather shop, both from Ri, one of whose aunt’s mates was from Ga (a Gabele, in fact), and they agreed to meet with him the next day for lunch, to fill him in on news from home. Pif had just started to wonder if he should be looking for Pri’ak and the two boys when he spotted them about to go into an alehouse, the first of the evening.

  Pif trotted up to meet them, his vendor bag swinging from his neck. “Hey, one of you want to carry my stuff?”

  Pri’ak looked irritated. “About time. We thought you’d been abducted, or something.”

  Pif shrugged. “You could have called.”

  “You know what the interference is like down here,” Pri’ak said. “And I wasn’t about to hit the emergency signal. Facity would kill us.”