The Long Mirage
Page 36
“That’s a very hard question to answer,” Remzi said. “We have identified androids and holograms that we have classified as sentient, but we’re not sure exactly how that occurred. As I said, it’s possible that humanoid interaction facilitates the process. And if it does, then leaving his program running could be of benefit.”
“Is it possible that you’re wrong, that Vic is sentient?” Ro asked. The captain assumed that even the chance of that would prevent the singer’s matrix from being deleted.
“Yes, it’s possible,” Remzi said. “I’m not infallible, and there’s more gray area here than black and white. But I do think you’ll be hearing from Starfleet’s Holographic Image and Programming Center. I’m going to recommend in my report that we periodically monitor Vic.”
“I understand,” Ro said, pleased at where the doctor’s evaluation had ended. The captain asked if either Remzi or Desjardins needed to discuss anything more with her. When they told her that they didn’t, the captain stood up and thanked them for briefing her.
Ro watched the scientist and the JAG officer exit her office. Once the door closed behind them, the captain’s thoughts returned to Vic. Something else occurred to her that she hadn’t mentioned to Remzi. What if Vic is sentient? she wondered. Could he have realized that Remzi was talking with him not as a psychiatrist to help with the traumas he’d experienced, but as a holographic scientist attempting to evaluate him? Did he know that if she judged him sentient that there would be repercussions because he had broken the Restricted Technology laws? Could he have interacted with Remzi in such a way that she would conclude that he wasn’t sentient?
Maybe, Ro thought, Vic fooled her.
iv
* * *
Nog and Candlewood entered the smoky, dimly lighted room. Customers sat scattered about at small, round tables, mostly in groups of two or three. Candles flickered, their flames glittering off drinks in tall, slim glasses.
For a moment, Nog worried that they would not be able to find a place to sit, but then he spotted an empty table off to one side. He navigated toward it through the crowd, with Candlewood following behind him. Dressed not in their uniforms, but in civilian attire specific to 1960s Earth, the two Starfleet officers took their seats, both of them facing the small stage at the far end of the room.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” Candlewood asked.
“Trust me,” Nog said.
On the stage, a man walked out from the wings. He stood in front of a black curtain and addressed the crowd. “Mesdames et Messieurs, bonsoir. Bienvenue dans Le Rêve.” Nog’s universal translator interpreted the French words into Federation Standard: “Ladies and gentlemen, good evening. Welcome to The Dream.”
A server carrying a tray suddenly stepped in front of Nog, blocking his view of the proceedings. “Pardon me,” he said, but when he looked up, intending to ask the server to please move, he saw a familiar face: Ulu Lani. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I work here,” Lani said. “Well, at least for tonight.” She took two plates from her tray and set them down before Nog and Candlewood, then placed a covered dish in the center of the table. “I believe this is for you.”
“I don’t think so,” Candlewood said. “We just got here. We haven’t ordered yet.”
“And I really don’t like French food,” Nog added.
“Are you sure?” Lani asked, and she whisked off the cover from the dish to reveal an elegant arrangement of snails. She put linen napkins down on the table, along with tongs and snail forks.
“Wow,” Nog said. The food looked delicious.
“And it’s on the house,” Lani said.
“Really?” Nog asked.
“Well, it’s on me, anyway,” Lani said. “Enjoy the show.” Without another word, she expertly weaved her way back through the tables.
Nog returned his attention to the stage, where the man continued to speak. “S’il vous plaît accueillir à Paris un Américain qui chante avec l’âme d’un Français.” Again, Nog’s universal translator provided the words in Federation Standard: “Please welcome to Paris an American who sings with the soul of a Frenchman.” The man held his hand up toward the side of the stage and said: “Victor Printanier.”
Just before the lights went dark, Nog spotted a familiar profile at a table just in front of the stage: Morn, looking more than a little silly with a beret perched jauntily atop his head. Then a spotlight winked on, picking out a man with silver hair sitting on a stool onstage. Curls of smoke wafted through the shaft of light. Polite but enthusiastic applause floated up from the audience.
“Merci, merci,” Vic said, with an accent that obviously marked him as a nonnative.
It felt good to see him again, back in his element. His face had healed, and he looked like his old self again. Nog had been concerned for so long about his friend, from Vic’s time confined to the simulator, to the problems in uploading his program to the new holosuites, to his troubles with Bugsy Calderone. The operations chief felt grateful that all of that lay in the past, but he still worried about the effect on Vic of his forced relocation from Las Vegas.
And then Vic began to sing: “Non, rien de rien. Non, je ne regrette rien.” His voice sounded as smooth and velvety as ever, and his choice of song and the translated lyrics told Nog everything he needed to know about his friend: “No, nothing at all. I do not regret anything.”
Acknowledgments
It requires more than the efforts of just a writer to publish a novel. Somebody must acquire the potential book in the first place. Somebody has to evaluate the story—beginning, middle, and end, character arcs, overall themes—and work with the writer so that they can produce a narrative outline (at least in the case of Star Trek works, so that both the publisher and the license holder can read and approve it). Somebody has to negotiate terms, then send out a contract and get it signed by all parties. Then once the novel has actually been written, somebody has to edit the manuscript, somebody has to copyedit it, somebody has to typeset it. Somewhere along the way, somebody has to create a cover, and somebody else has to pen cover copy. Once the writer has worked through all of those steps in concert with all of those people, the folks in production still have to go through the process of physically producing the book and sending it out into the world—printing it, binding it, shipping it.
Obviously, that’s a lot of work, and yet it’s not even an exhaustive list of all the steps involved. I want to thank everybody who took part in the publication of The Long Mirage. I particularly want to single out the people in production, who never get enough appreciation for all that they do.
Of course, somebody has to oversee the entire enterprise (in addition to doing much of the actual work). For me, those people are editors Margaret Clark and Ed Schlesinger. Without the two of them, this book would not exist. For all their hard work, I thank them.
On the personal side, there are so many people who support me. I’m very fortunate to have a host of caring, encouraging, and loving friends in my life. I’m grateful to each and every one of them. I especially want to thank Kirsten Beyer, her husband, David, and their wonderful daughter, Anorah, for their steadfast and generous friendship. Aloha me mahalo e ke ku‘uhoa.
And then there are my rocks, the people in my life who have been the steadiest and who have been there the longest. Walter Ragan is a Navy man—a submariner—who also knows his way around electricity. He has always been kind and loving to me, providing me with tremendous encouragement. He is like a father to me, and I am grateful for that.
Colleen Ragan and Anita Smith are technically my sisters-in-law, but in real life, they are more like actual sisters to me. They are both kind, loving women who make everything better just by being around them. I thank each of them for welcoming me into their family.
I am also privileged to have an amazing woman for my actual sister. Jennifer George is a bri
lliant and accomplished person who lives a wonderfully happy life that stands as a shining example for all of us. I am grateful for the many ways in which she helps and supports me, and I could not be more proud to be her brother.
I am also thankful to have Patricia Walenista in my life. A world traveler, a voracious reader, and a woman of eclectic tastes, she is also a skilled researcher and historian. She has taught me so much, and I continue to learn from her all the time.
Finally, as always, there is the incomparable Karen Ragan-George. My wife’s talents know no bounds. Whether she is acting, writing, directing, dancing, painting, or taking part in some other art form, Karen always impresses (most recently onstage as Senator Emily Green in Charlie Mount’s brilliant political thriller The Leather Apron Club). She also constantly astounds me with her lively intellect; dazzles me with her beauty, both inside and out; keeps me laughing with her sense of humor, by turns raucous and droll; and makes all the moments of our shared lives well worth the living. Karen is my sunshine!
About the Author
The Long Mirage is David R. George III’s seventeenth Star Trek novel, and his tenth in the Deep Space Nine series, following The 34th Rule, Twilight, Olympus Descending (in Worlds of Deep Space Nine, Volume Three), Rough Beasts of Empire, Plagues of Night, Raise the Dawn, Revelation and Dust, Sacraments of Fire, and Ascendance. He also penned the Crucible trilogy—Provenance of Shadows, The Fire and the Rose, and The Star to Every Wandering—which was set during the original series and helped celebrate the fortieth anniversary of the television show. Another of his novels, Allegiance in Exile, takes place during the final part of Enterprise’s five-year mission. David also wrote two Lost Era books, Serpents Among the Ruins and One Constant Star, which feature John Harriman and Demora Sulu, as well as an LE novella, Iron and Sacrifice, which appeared in the Tales from the Captain’s Table anthology. He also contributed an alternate-universe Next Generation novel, The Embrace of Cold Architects, to the Myriad Universes: Shattered Light collection.
David first contributed to the Trek universe on television, with a first-season Voyager episode called “Prime Factors.” He has also written nearly twenty magazine articles about the shows and books. Of his non–Star Trek work, his novelette “Moon Over Luna” is available on Amazon.com. A second novelette, “The Instruments of Vice,” appears in Native Lands, the third volume in the ReDeus universe, which tells stories set after the return of the gods to Earth. A third novelette, “The Dark Arts Come to Hebron,” is included in a genre anthology titled Apollo’s Daughters. David’s work has appeared on both the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists, and it has been nominated for a Scribe Award by the International Association of Media Tie-in Writers. His television episode was nominated for a SciFi Universe award.
David loves to play baseball, and as a native New Yorker, he has long followed his beloved but often frustrating New York Mets. He and his beautiful wife, Karen, love to travel, watch movies, attend the theater and concerts, visit museums, and dance. They presently reside in sunny southern California.
You can contact David at facebook.com/DRGIII, and you can follow him on Twitter @DavidRGeorgeIII.
FOR MORE ON THIS AUTHOR: Authors.SimonandSchuster.com/David-R-George-III
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