"Yet you say he would never disobey orders," Odo reminded her.
"Have you noticed, Odo? There's no order so direct, so specific, that a determined person can't reinterpret it to suit his own purposes." She gave him a meaningful look. Odo became uneasy. "That was—it was vital to solving the case. Besides, it was a single incident that happened long ago. I did not disobey—"
"Sure you didn't." Kira's smile was there and gone. "But you do see what I mean about Dr. Bashir." Odo grumped something unintelligible and continued to toil up the slope.
"Anyway," Kira went on, "it doesn't look like our doctor's in a situation where we can just walk in, give him his orders, and walk out again. There are reports of political splinter groups in this area—former Resistance fighters who don't support the provisional government. No one's exactly sure of their affiliations. The council treats them all as potential subversives."
"With a warm welcome like that waiting for them I'm surprised they don't come streaming out of the hills" was Odo's acerbic comment. "And where do they stand on the question of Bajor joining the Federation?"
"I don't know."
"Wonderful."
"Hurry up," Cedra hissed from above. "What's taking you two so long?" The boy clung to a small tree growing out of the mountainside at a crazy angle. "We haven't got time."
Major Kira caught hold of one of the tree's lower branches and hauled herself up behind the trunk to catch her breath. She turned to give a hand to Odo, but he was nowhere to be seen. The shapeshifter had come up with his own solution to the unfriendly terrain. A nimblefooted hyurin scurried past Major Kira and Cedra, leaving them to follow it through the trees into a small clearing slightly higher up the hillside. There it stopped and shot back into the familiar form of Odo.
"I don't know why I didn't think of doing that sooner," he remarked. To Major Kira he said, "Are we almost there?"
"Yes, we are," Cedra replied. Neitherone of the adults paid any attention to him.
Kira took a reading on her tricorder, sweeping the territory ahead. "There's an entrance to a series of caverns about a hundred meters in that direction. That's where the sensors picked up Dr. Bashir's life signs. No wonder Chief O'Brien said it looked like the man was under several layers of rock. All we have to do is locate Dr. Bashir inside the caverns, get a comm badge on him, and signal the runabout. The transporter aboard the Ganges is programmed to home in on the comm signals without having to use the long-range sensors to spot us."
"How simple. And all we have to do to reach Dr. Bashir is explain to any of the cavern residents that we mean them no harm, we've just come looking for a friend."
"Odo, you know that's where Cedra's plan comes in. Sometimes your cynical attitude gets a bit old," Kira said.
"I would like to get old, too," the shapeshifter replied.
Cedra made an impatient sound. The Bajoran boy had climbed one of the trees and was sitting on a branch, swinging his legs. "Nothing bad's going to happen. Didn't you listen when I explained it all to Commander Sisko?"
"I was too busy asking myself what possessed him to consent to this ludicrous arrangement," Odo said. "I suppose it didn't hurt to have his son take your side," he added grudgingly.
"It's a good plan and he would have approved it with or without Jake's support," Cedra snapped. He dropped lightly from the tree. "Commander Sisko wouldn't approve a plan—any plan—if he didn't think it would work. Not when something so important depends on it working. You know how he always thinks things through."
I do, Kira thought. But how do you? You've hardly known him a week. She itched with the same peculiar feeling she'd gotten when Talis Cedra explained how he'd located his sister by scent alone.
"More of that invaluable Starfleet training in action," Odo drawled.
"I like Starfleet," Cedra remarked casually. "Commander Sisko said I'd make a good recruit. Maybe I'll do that, join up, go to the Academy"—he gave Odo an arch look—"and come back to DS9 as your new commander."
"I can hardly wait," Odo said through his teeth.
"In the meantime, you do your part and I'll show you how well I do mine."
"All right. Sit down over there where there's some light." As Cedra obediently sat on a nearby boulder and Major Kira kept watch, Odo unpacked a small box from his belt.
"This must be a change for you," Kira said, glancing over Odo's shoulder as the shapeshifter deployed the assorted jars, tubes, and pencils of a makeup kit. "I hope you're as good at changing someone else's looks as you are your own," she joked.
"There have been many times during my tenure aboard the station when I needed more than one member of Security to work undercover," Odo replied testily. He gave Cedra's skin an unwholesome pallor, then darkened the circles under the boy's eyes and created deep hollows under his cheekbones. "All we require is for him to look ill. That's a simple transformation." He studied Cedra critically. "I've done my best. See that you can act as sick as you look."
Cedra grinned. "Don't worry about my acting talents, Constable."
"He looks awful," Kira said, impressed.
"Thank you," said Odo. As a last touch, he tucked a comm badge between the layers of the deliberately tattered and filthy clothes Cedra wore. "That one's yours. You remember what to do with it?"
Cedra made a face as if to say he'd remember long after Odo had forgotten. "Lose it and I get left behind. I'm ready."
Major Kira checked her tricorder. "There are four sentries, two in plain sight near the cave mouth, two on patrol." She and Odo set their phasers on stun, in case some mischance let the patrolling guards stumble upon them before they could use the sensor warnings to evade them. "That seems to be all. Funny … Most of the life-sign readings are coming from one central area inside the caverns. Dr. Bashir's there too." She shrugged. "We can use luck like that. Do you have the comm badge for Dr. Bashir, Cedra?"
The boy nodded; he showed her the glittering Starfleet insignia before hiding it under his rags. "One for him, one for me."
"Then good luck." She stooped and gave the child a hasty kiss.
"Don't smear the makeup," said Odo.
Dr. Bashir felt as if his legs had turned to jelly. Jalika was right—her father was an excellent orator. From an opening that seemed to do nothing but praise Dr. Bashir's medical triumphs among the hill fighters, he skillfully forged those same words of praise into a sword that was pointed right at Julian's heart.
"He has saved so many!" Borilak Selinn cried. "Why, then, could he not save one? One boy—little more than a child—a child who suffered from the same fever he cured so many times before!"
"But it wasn't the same fever," Julian muttered. "It would have responded to the vaccine if it were."
"My friends—" The Bajoran's tone softened from rant to purr."—I know what you ask now. You ask why he would do such a thing. To kill a child—! All we have heard before of this Federation healer speaks of his selflessness, his compassion, of the countless children who owe him their lives. Why does Borilak Belem owe him his death?"
A murmur of speculation rose from the cavern floor to meet the question. Borilak Selinn allowed it to die down before he went on.
"You might as well ask yourselves why you are here, dwelling in caves, undergoing hardship, living far from even the most basic comforts. Why have you made this choice? Because you are people of honor. Because you did not fight—your loved ones did not die at the hands of the Cardassians—to have everything you hold dear destroyed by the perfidious and subtle agents of the so-called provisional government!" This time a roar of approval went up from the crowd below.
"Who is this man, this healer?" Borilak Selinn demanded. "Who is he, really? He wears the uniform of Starfleet—the same Starfleet that woos and coddles the very leaders who are taking Bajor down the path of ruin. What do these Starfleet people care for true Bajorans? All that they want is to have guaranteed access to the wormhole, and they'll pact with whoever can give it to them. Justice can hang, righteousness can peri
sh for all they care. The provisional government offers them the wormhole and in exchange they give the provisional government their souls."
"My God," Julian said, the muscles of his jaw tightening. "What a pack of lies." He started forward, but Jalika held him back.
"You may not speak yet. If you try, Father's attendants will stop you. If there is even the smallest show of a struggle, they will use it to their advantage and see that you fall to your death. To the others, it will look like an accident." She twined her arm through his. "Do not give him what he wants, Julian. Your turn to speak will come."
Dr. Bashir bit his lip and said nothing.
"Where did this healer come from?" Borilak Selinn continued. "From the same camp as Borilak Belem! You all know this is true: the boy spoke of his past freely. He had nothing to hide. Perhaps that was what this man feared—that Belem's honest nature would compel him to reveal the true reason for the healer Bashir's presence in our midst."
"This is too much! You brought me here by force, dammit!" Dr. Bashir exploded, despite Jalika's attempts to quiet him. "You're filling your followers' ears with fairy tales and the one person who can testify against you is dead!"
One of Borilak Selinn's men moved forward and backhanded Julian across the face so hard the doctor staggered dangerously near the lip of the rocky shelf. The man's smile was calculating as he raised his hand for a second blow, strong enough to finish matters.
"No!" Jalika cried, leaping between Bashir and her father's henchman. She seized Julian in her arms and brought him away from the edge, holding his assailant at bay with a ferocious glare.
"See that he shuts up, then," the man said, and returned to his post at Borilak Selinn's side.
"I warned you," Jalika whispered to Julian while he blinked away stars and examined his throbbing jaw gingerly.
Borilak Selinn was smiling as if someone had just given him a gift. "You see, my friends?" he told his people. "A man who fears the words of honest men, that is this healer. Who knows what poor Belem learned of the man's true purpose here? Much evil may be done under cover of good deeds. Perhaps the boy knew nothing—did he deserve to die for what the healer thought he knew? Perhaps he knew everything, but refused to believe it because he felt that he was in the healer's debt. His loyalty did not save him. Borilak Belem trusted the healer Bashir. To trust him was to trust Starfleet; to trust Starfleet was to trust the provisional government; to trust them was to die." He turned his back on the crowd, signaling that he had said all he needed to say, for the moment. The mob below cheered wildly.
Jalika nudged Julian. "Now it is your turn."
Still somewhat stunned, Dr. Bashir walked carefully to the edge of the stone shelf and gazed down. He saw hate and suspicion on every upturned face. No matter what I say, they won't believe me, he realized. Borilak Selinn has fixed it so they can't believe me. The only thing my speech will earn me is a few more minutes of life. He looked back at Jalika. She glimmered like a dream in the cavern light. I have to try.
"I did not kill Belem," he said. The simple declaration brought hoots and jeers from the chamber floor. "If I did want him dead, why would I do it so crudely? I could have healed him, been safely on my way, only to have him die through some—some—" He shrugged. "I don't know, some delayed release poison I'd left behind in his blood."
"How do we know that you didn't do that, too?" someone called from below.
"Yes, the injections he gave us!" someone else agreed. "How do we know what they'll really do to us, given time?"
Bad move, Julian, Dr. Bashir thought as the crowd seized on his words and warped them out of all recognition. Stupid move. Maybe I should just take one little step now and put an end to this before I put my foot in my mouth up to the knee. The thought of stepping off the ledge was not even half-serious, but judging from some of the things Borilak Selinn's followers were now shouting, he knew that taking that one small step might spare him a far longer, far more painful death.
"Let him speak!" Jalika's voice, normally so soft and gentle, rang out through the hall and stunned the mob to silence. "Is this how you honor our laws? He has the right to be heard." A few diehards muttered excuses for the outburst, but most of the people did not say another word.
Jalika stared hard at her father. "I ask for the right of testimony," she said. Her tone made it clear that she would not accept a negative reply. Her father sullenly waved her his consent.
She walked proudly to the brim of the precipice and took Julian's hand where all the people could see. "I have been your healer. I was trained as a healer in the holy Temple. There I was taught that the Prophets offer vision and revelation, but we must seek our own answers within them and within ourselves. Is there a certainty except that no certainty exists? We are not the Prophets. Our answers are sometimes flawed."
She squeezed Julian's hand. "When I was your sole healer, there were times when my patients died. Why did no one speak of my dark motives? When Borilak Belem fell ill, I did not know how to heal him. Why was I not accused of murder for the same crime as Dr. Bashir? He and I are both healers. Why can't you accept the simple fact that no healer can cure all the ills we must endure?"
"How do you compare yourself to him?" a strident voice piped up. At least one of Dr. Bashir's foes had regained the courage to interrupt. "You're one of us! He's an outsider, he's Starfleet, he's—"
"Healer!" The call echoed from the mouth of one of the tunnels that fed into the vast hall. A man came running in at a clumsy lope. He held the limp body of a child in his arms. "Healer, this boy came staggering out of the woods and collapsed at our feet. He looks like he's from one of the camps. He's moaning with pain and he's had convulsions at least three times on the way here."
"Bring him up," Borilak Selinn directed. "My daughter will heal him."
As the man sought the spiral passageway up to the ledge, Jalika said loudly enough for all to hear, "Are you sure I should, Father? What if he has the camp fever? You forbade me to care for Belem as soon as you suspected what his illness was. You were afraid I would catch it too."
"You can't catch it now," Borilak Selinn snapped. "You were inoculated by—" He stopped, but it was too late.
"—by the healer Bashir," Jalika concluded in triumph. "So you do trust his remedies enough to let me touch a fever victim?" The crowd below heard, and the murmuring began again just as the guard emerged onto the platform. He laid the child down at Jalika's feet. "No," she said. "I trust Dr. Bashir, too." She stepped aside and addressed the crowd: "May the Prophets show us this man's innocence through the life or death of this child."
Julian approached the body cautiously, reaching for his diagnostic instrument as he knelt to perform his examination. The child lay with one arm thrown across his face. Dr. Bashir moved it away and raised the silvery wand to begin his work.
"Boo!" shouted Cedra, bolting upright and slapping the comm badge onto Julian's chest. It tilted at a lopsided angle, but it clung securely. With a whoop of glee, Cedra touched his own hidden comm badge. "Now!"
Borilak Selinn's men almost ran over the edge of the stone gallery as they rushed forward to try seizing two quickly fading transporter-stolen phantoms.
CHAPTER 15
"CONGRATULATIONS, CEDRA,"Commander Sisko said. "Even Odo's admitted to me that your plan came off without a hitch. You can be proud of yourself; you're a fine actor."
"Thanks, but I don't think that's what I want to be when I grow up," Cedra replied with a smile.
"Plenty of time to decide that. You know, I wasn't joking when I suggested you consider a career in Starfleet someday."
All at once the boy was solemn. "My place is on Bajor."
"Your place is wherever you're happy." Sisko patted the boy's back. He looked troubled. "I wish I knew if Dr. Bashir still thinks his place is here."
"Is it?"
"That will be up to him. I couldn't bring myself to give him more than a slap on the wrist for his escapades on the surface. I can't deny the good he's done
in the camps the surface. I can't deny the good he's done in the camps on Bajor, but I'm afraid we'll lose him to the camps again once he cures your sister."
Cedra's face was disturbingly adult as he said, "You don't need to lie to me, Commander. I know lies. You want to say if he cures Dejana."
"No, Cedra; I believe it will be when, not if."
The boy cocked his head and gave Sisko a searching look. "You do." He appeared to think over this revelation. "And you truly believe Dr. Bashir is the man who can do it. They teach us that the Prophets reward faith."
"I respect your beliefs, Cedra, whether or not I share them."
"Then tell me more of what you believe about Dr. Bashir."
It was a strange request, but Commander Sisko answered it. "I believe that it would be a loss to DS9 and to Bajor if Dr. Bashir finds an excuse to return to the camps. Excuse? He wouldn't need one; he'd only have to resign his commission in Starfleet and go. But working like that he can only treat one individual at a time. Working here, gaining experience, reputation, expertise, he could become a voice of influence that could make the provisional government finally take serious relief action and eliminate the camps altogether."
"Is that all?" Cedra meant it as a serious question.
"Well … I'd also hate to lose him as a crewman; I respect him as a doctor and I like him, too. I admit he was a little irritating when he first came here, but he is brilliant, and since he's returned from Bajor I've noticed a change in him." Sisko ran a thumb along his jawline. "I think he's grown up."
Cedra poked his head around the corner of an open doorway and observed Bashir working over a microscanner. "Did you find it yet?" he asked.
The doctor's head jerked up from his work. "Oh, hullo, Cedra. Come in." He sat back on his stool. "I've just begun reviewing the samples Lieutenant Dax took from your sister since her arrival on DS9. I'm trying to see if there's any progressive physiological difference between the time she got here and the time she fell ill. Funny—I expected to see an escalating number of white blood cells to combat the infection, but instead it looks like her red cell count is up. If only I weren't so tired…"
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