Rising Son

by S. D. Perry

  After nine days of lucid recovery, twenty-five days since she’d blasted her way to the surface, Raiq and Opaka walked to Raiq’s ship for the second time in as many days, Opaka waiting outside the small, bladelike vessel as Raiq ran another systems check.

  It was a cool, windy afternoon, the desolate landscape—towering cliff walls and cracked earth—painted in stark shades of gray. Opaka sat cross-legged on the ground, leaning against the small vessel, enjoying the brisk air and demanding scenery, so different from Bajor. There truly was beauty in everything.

  “I’m prepared to leave,” Raiq said from behind her, “and I’ve decided on your reward. When I depart, I will destroy the rest of the network that keeps you here.”

  Opaka turned to look at her, wanting to tell her again that no reward was necessary, also feeling her heart jump at the thought. No more satellites meant no more crashes, no more innocent victims.

  “Raiq, that would be very kind of you,” she said, smiling.

  “You are aware, the artificial organisms here that relate to cellular function will also be deactivated,” Raiq added.

  Opaka pushed to her feet and stared up at Raiq, not sure she’d heard correctly. “I don’t understand,” she said, her voice barely audible to her own ears.

  “From what my vessel’s sensory data suggests, the energy fields that perpetuate the microbes’ environment-specific mechanism are manufactured by the satellite network,” Raiq continued. “By destroying the network, the mechanism will fall dormant. You will be free to leave this moon.”

  “But…I thought we were dependent on these microbes for cellular functions,” Opaka said.

  “You are. If your bodies were to be flushed of the microbes, you would die. What I propose is deactivation. Death will again become an option, but your people should also be able to procreate.”

  Babies! That alone…Opaka was so thankful that she could hardly breathe. She instinctively stepped forward to embrace Raiq, her heart full…and Raiq stepped back, her expression blank.

  “This is the reward,” she said coolly. “Once this is done, the Ascendants owe you nothing.”

  Opaka lowered her arms, her happiness faltering, tainted with pity for Raiq. If only she could accept another’s friendship, or comfort of any kind. Opaka might have felt differently if Raiq had seemed fulfilled, if she’d been content to pursue her indifferent gods alone, to feel nothing but contempt for others…but Opaka had seen her sick, crying from fear and loneliness, afraid that she would be left behind.

  And those things are so deeply hidden that if she had seen herself then, she wouldn’t recognize herself as the same person.

  “I…understand,” Opaka said, for that was all there was to say.

  “I will go now,” Raiq said, and without another word or gesture, she turned and reentered her ship. Opaka stepped back and away, watching as the narrow vessel powered up and then lifted from the surface. An instant later, Raiq was gone.

  Opaka silently wished her well, asking the Prophets to keep safe those who encountered her…and then turned away from the empty cliffs, back toward the settlement. She walked a few steps, smiling, wondering how best to tell the Sen Ennis of Raiq’s reward…and as the full import of the implications hit her—free, the Sen Ennis were free—she suddenly found herself feeling so light, so young, that she lifted her skirts and broke into a run, laughing with sheer delight at the joy in her old bones, running like a schoolgirl to spread the news.

  14

  ALTHOUGH THE STORY wasn’t a long one, Jake found it hard to concentrate, not as much from the alcohol as from who was telling it. Kai Opaka. He couldn’t believe it.

  The prophecy, your prophecy, his brain kept saying, refusing to leave it alone. “A Herald, unforgotten but lost to time and removed from sight, a Seer of Visions to whom the Teacher Prophets sing, will return from the Temple…. The first child, a son, enters the Templealone. With the Herald, he returns, and soon after, the Avatar is born.”

  It was true, after all. But not his father. Kai Opaka all along. Kai Opaka, who had heralded the Emissary.

  “…and so we were free to leave,” Opaka was saying. “Over the years, the tribes had salvaged enough from the crashed ships that they were able to set up a transmitting station, and a month or so after Raiq had gone, a survey ship’s crew happened upon us. They were able to help the Sen Ennis repair the ships they had originally landed in. There was room for us all.”

  Opaka smiled, the expression soft and amused. “And most of the Sen Ennis are still on the moon, raising their children. The last I heard, there were twenty-three. They worked so hard to build a life there, you see. It had become home.”

  “But you and about thirty of your followers moved on,” Wex said. “And went to the Ool’sp hospice on Syll8, where you helped care for the last of the hevgin test victims. And then to the colonies at Arshiv and Arshiv Prime, where you established their first civil-war orphanages. Before you came, many of the children starved to death.”

  “We were also at the Beras for a few months,” Opaka said, her eyebrows raised slightly. “To pray with the refugees. And now we’re here, on Ee, and we’ve just managed to get a government doctor to come to the camp, twice a week. When we got here, there were people actually dying from untreated infections….”

  She trailed off, then smiled slightly at Wex. “You must have heard about my healing powers, if you know all that. I’ve only recently heard about them myself. I’m sorry to say, I haven’t any magic. Only a little determination, and a willingness to help.”

  Jake finally found his voice. “You said you knew about the Dominion War…why didn’t you go home?”

  Opaka turned to him, her own voice gentle, almost apologetic. “Because I always knew that the Prophets would send for me, when They were ready.”

  Jake looked away, not sure how he felt, only that it was messy and confusing. The Prophets, of course. Why had he even bothered to ask? They had it all organized, They knew who was going to do what from the beginning of time to the end of it.Why bother to make any decisions? It’s all taken care of, isn’t it?

  Opaka had turned her attention to Tosk, who had remained silent throughout. “Is there something you have to tell me, Tosk?”

  Tosk stared at her a moment, his eyes bright, and then blurted it out. “You are the Other, Oh-paka,” he said, in a rush, “and you have to come with me, back to the star system nearest the Anomaly, to the planet where I touched the crystal. I don’t know why, or what will happen, but I will take you back to your home afterward if you come with me.”

  Jake shot a glance at Wex, who only watched with a neutral expression. Kai Opaka is his new purpose? The only thing that could have been more surprising was her reaction to Tosk’s excited declaration.

  “All right,” she said evenly. “I just have to speak with Zlangco and the others, to be sure they understand what’s left to be done here…and to say good-bye. I can be ready by tomorrow afternoon.”

  Jake was speechless. She hadn’t heard Tosk’s story, she had no idea what he was talking about, he sounded crazy, and yet she hadn’t even blinked.

  “I will have to get a new ship,” Tosk said, almost to himself. “If it were only a few hours, mine would suffice, but it will take three, perhaps four weeks….”

  How long before Kas has the baby? Six weeks? Jake felt a flash of bitterness. If Opaka didn’t make it back in time, would the Prophets hold the Avatar back?

  “I would like to go with you,” Wex said suddenly, addressing Opaka. “I know that you have no reason to allow it, but I feel strongly that I should accompany you…” Wex nodded at Tosk. “…if that’s agreeable to you both, of course. I have no ship.” Tosk nodded back at her, apparently agreeable to anything, now that he’d found his Other.

  Opaka motioned for Wex to approach, to kneel at her side…and when the Trelian had complied, Opaka reached out to touch her left ear, grasping it firmly. Startled, Wex started to pull away, but Opaka shook her head. The aging B
ajoran closed her eyes while Wex blinked rapidly, an expression almost like guilt on her young face. After a few seconds, Opaka let go, and Wex immediately stood and backed away, reaching up to touch her ear with one nervous hand.

  “Of course you must come,” Opaka said, and turned her mild gaze toward Jake again. “Will we all be traveling together?”

  Jake stared at her, feeling like everything was happening way too fast, feeling a terrific headache settling in. His first impulse was to tell her no, they would not be traveling together, the prophecy was crap and the Prophets were wrong…

  …but she’s Kai Opaka. She’s been lost for seven years, but she belongs on Bajor…and the Even is going back toward the wormhole anyway…. The tentative plan was for Facity to pilot him through on the dropship, so that he could get some things together and say his good-byes. So that he could have something of his own, away from DS9 and Bajor.

  Forget it, let the Prophets take care of her, a part of him spat, and that same part wanted to tell her as much, to thank her for naming his father the Emissary, he couldn’t forget that, and he hadn’t even recognized her, he didn’t know her…

  …but he knew himself. He couldn’t leave Kai Opaka with strangers, not without at least trying to see her home.

  “I…I’m not sure,” he said, and then sighed. “Let me talk to the captain of the ship I’m on. It’s not up to me, but I’ll try.”

  Opaka gazed at him with such kindness that he glanced away, embarrassed by his thoughts. Why was this happening to him? Why couldn’t he just walk away?

  “You’re so much like your father,” Opaka said warmly, and Jake felt his cheeks flush, with dull anger and shame. He wasn’t at all, his father wouldn’t have wavered, his father would do the right thing without thinking twice about it.

  Yeah. But he’s the Emissary of the Prophets. I’m just…Jake.

  Jake stood up, wanting to get out and get it over with, hoping that Dez would tell them no…knowing deep down that if he did, Jake would try to change his mind. It wasn’t fair. He’d been out with friends, having fun, having a life, and things had changed. Now he was faced with a responsibility that he didn’t want, and couldn’t ignore.

  “Why don’t Tosk and I go with you, to talk with your captain,” Wex offered, and Jake nodded. Why not? He didn’t trust himself to speak.

  Opaka said good night and they left her, Jake thinking that it didn’t matter, whatever he wanted. One way or another, he would be taking the Kai back through the wormhole. After all, it had been foreseen.

  “…and it just makes sense, we could take Tosk’s ship with us,” Jake said. “That system Tosk described—it has to be Idran, three light-years from the wormhole. We could drop them off, and they could make it back to Bajor on their own from there.”

  Beneath the bright lights of the transporter room, Facity could see that his eyes were bloodshot but not bleary. He’s sober, all right. Hard as it was to believe.

  “So…what do you think?” Jake asked.

  It was silent, Dez frowning thoughtfully, Facity hoping that he’d break the answer to Jake gently, and quickly. Pri’ak and Pif had already dragged Coamis off to bed, where everyone else was, having returned hours before. Where she should be, where she had been, dozing next to Dez after a satisfying dinner and several hours of quality time, a good portion of it active. It was late and she was tired, and not a little unnerved by Jake’s decision to bring strangers back to the ship. His new acquaintances, the Tosk and the Trelian girl, still stood on the transporter pad behind them, both having added bits and pieces of their individual stories where Jake had faltered.

  Dez jerked his chin toward the door, and Jake and Facity walked with him to stand in front of it, hopefully out of earshot of the other two.

  “I think you’re right, it makes sense,” Dez said. “We’ll call it our good deed for the day.”

  What?

  Jake seemed to relax, though he didn’t smile. “Okay, good. Thanks, Dez.”

  “Dez, are you—” Facity started, but Dez wasn’t finished. He nodded toward the Trelian girl, Wex, with a frown, still addressing Jake in a low voice.

  “Except it seems to me that Wex could find her own ride. I’m not worried about having a Tosk know that we’re retrievers, and this Opaka person obviously won’t be a problem, but why does she want to come, again?” Dez shook his head. “I know Trelians are into self-discovery, but it seems a little suspect, to be honest—”

  “I agree,” Wex said loudly, calling out across the room. “Which is why—I’m sorry, may I…?”

  She had nerve, Facity had to give her that. And damned good hearing, she thought, as Wex stepped off the transporter pad and approached them.

  “I apologize for interrupting,” Wex said. “I just wanted to tell you that my family is extremely wealthy, I can pay you for passage.”

  “We’re not a transport ship,” Dez said, frowning.

  “Please,” Wex said. She seemed deeply uncomfortable asking, which struck Facity as a bit odd. Trelians were generally a humble species. “I just…wish to spend time with Opaka. Trelians only seek the experiences of self-enlightenment—I promise you, I have no wish to interfere with your business.”

  Dez hesitated, and Wex pressed the point. “And like I said, I can pay. Quite well.”

  Dez sighed, and nodded. “Fine.”

  He’s lost his mind. Facity couldn’t stand another minute. “Dez, may I have a word?”

  Before he could answer, she turned and walked out, and Dez followed. It was all she could do not to start shouting as the door slid closed behind them. Jake might be a favorite, but a crazy Tosk, and some mad mission with passengers they knew nothing about…. It was too much.

  “Explain,” she said simply.

  Dez grinned, his eyes glittering. “You weren’t listening, my sweet. Replay what the Tosk told us, why don’t you?”

  “He told us he’s insane,” Facity said, shaking her head. “What’s gotten into you? I know you care about Jake, fine, but you’re taking this father-figure business much too far.”

  Dez placed his hands on her shoulders. “Facity, he touched a crystal that disappeared, that melted. But first, it implanted something in his mind.”

  “So? I think he damaged his mind, he—” Facity abruptly shut up, felt her eyes go wide. The Eav-oq.

  It was a retrieval myth, like the one about the women who wept gems. Every few years, somebody somewhere claimed to have found one of the Eav-oq vanishing crystals, on which the millennia-dead race had recorded aspects of their culture. The problem was, touching the crystal released the information into the mind of the person who touched it, which made it impossible to actually verify whether or not one of the artifacts was real. If it was real, the crystal itself disappeared.

  “You think he found the Eav-oq planet?” Facity asked, her voice low. “You think it was one of the crystals?”

  “I think he found something,” Dez said. “And I think you’re right, it did damage his mind. Think about it—he’s a Tosk, and Tosk only do one thing. It makes sense that a piece of technology like that could warp his program.”

  “But…the Eav-oq disappeared something like fifty millennia ago,” Facity said. “How could he have found an Eav-oq crystal that told him to find this Opaka person? And how could it have guided him to her?”

  Dez shrugged. “No idea. But I want to be there when he takes her back, to see what happens. And if she wants this Wex person to tag along, fine by me.”

  He grinned again. “At the very least, maybe we’ll find a few more of those crystals.”

  He kissed her, briefly but with passion, and she responded in kind, as excited as he was at the prospect of the new adventure. The Eav-oq world! They would be living legends in the retrieval business if they managed to find it.

  “Let’s go welcome our new friends aboard, and then get some rest, we’ve got a big day tomorrow,” Dez said. “We should leave as soon as we sell the Giani’aga box. We don’t want the H
unters to come looking for our map.”

  He paused, cocking one brow at her. “We should keep all this to ourselves, though…we can tell the crew in private that Wex is financing this thing, and that it’s a secret, they shouldn’t ask her about it, or talk about it. If they get excited about the Eav-oq, they might let something slip to our passengers about the specifics of our business.”

  And there’s no reason Jake has to know why I really decided to help, Facity silently finished for him, understanding more than Dez probably did himself, remembering his “beggars are fine” foray from earlier. She hoped that nothing hurtful would come of Dez’s misguided need to impress Jake. Besides being a sweet kid, between the box and the Tosk, Jake had turned out to be very good luck, indeed. She’d hate to lose him.

  “Right, of course,” she said, taking his arm as he turned back to the transporter-room door. She pasted on a glazed expression and her chula eyes, not wanting to seem too happy, her heart skipping gleefully in denial. The Eav-oq, as she lived and breathed. It had been well worth getting out of bed.

  15

  Day 121, morning. We left Ee a few days ago, and things are strange. We’re hurrying, for one thing; Dez says we’ll be at Idran in less than a month. And I guess our basotile contract fell through…. We were going to take care of that on the way, but it seems we’ve got a clean agenda now, nothing to do but drop off Tosk and Wex and the Kai and then take me home.

  So. I’ve been sticking around my quarters, mostly keeping to myself since we left, claiming the hangover (which was bad, by the way—remind me not to drink again, ever), but I think it’s mostly because of this whole prophecy business. I feel…strange again, that’s a good word. Lost. Angry at being used. Tired of caring. I don’t know where to go with it, or how I’m supposed to feel, that everything that’s happened to me over the last four months has apparently been about taking Opaka home. It makes everything seem so…I don’t know, pointless. It makes me feel pointless. I keep trying to work out the specifics, too—if it’s true, I’ll be going back through the wormhole with Opaka, which I guess means that she’ll be coming with me and Facity…or I’ll be going through with her and Tosk. Or who knows. The Prophets, apparently.