Star Trek: Typhon Pact - 13 - The Fall: Peaceable Kingdoms

by Dayton Ward

  Returning the embrace, La Forge considered her comments, at the same time trying to remember an old saying about such thinking. How had it gone?

  Just because you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you.

  Nineteen

  Jevalan, Doltiri System

  The first thing Beverly Crusher noticed upon entering Ilona Daret’s home was the stench of something burning.

  “Ilona?” she called out, stepping farther into her friend’s quarters. When there was no answer to her call, Crusher retrieved the phaser concealed inside her jacket and verified its power setting. “Ilona, are you here?” The only response she received was the echo of her own voice along the narrow corridor leading from the domicile’s main entrance. The doorway to Daret’s lab was closed, and as she drew closer, she heard the sounds of someone moving about within the room. Phaser held out before her, she advanced to the entry and keyed into the control pad the code Daret had given her, and the door slid aside.

  Smoke drifted through the open doorway, and Crusher stepped to one side, using for cover the wall beside the door as she peered into the lab. “Ilona!” she called out.

  “I am here, Beverly,” the Cardassian replied, and when Crusher moved to look farther into the room she saw him standing before the examination table at the lab’s center. He held in his hands what she figured had to be a portable fire extinguisher, but his attention was on the table and the stasis unit sitting atop it. The smoke now filling the room was coming from the table.

  “What happened?” Crusher asked, lowering her phaser and stepping into the room.

  Daret replied, “That is an interesting question.” Moving away from the table, he returned the extinguisher to a mounting bracket on the lab’s rear wall.

  Outside the room, Crusher heard the sound of the front door opening, followed a moment later by the sound of Rennan Konya calling out, “Doctor Daret? Doctor Crusher?”

  “In the lab, Lieutenant,” Crusher replied, and a moment later the security officer and Kirsten Cruzen appeared in the doorway. Both of them had their phasers drawn, relaxing only a bit upon seeing that Crusher and Daret appeared to be alone.

  “A fire?” Konya asked, his tone one of doubt.

  “Looks that way,” Crusher said.

  Cruzen stepped into the room, moving to one side and giving the various cabinets and other equipment a visual inspection. “Any idea how it started?”

  “The stasis unit’s internal power systems are still functioning,” Daret said, having moved back to the table. Crusher stepped closer as he tapped several series on the unit’s control pad. After a moment, he frowned. “Its self-diagnostic program indicates a failure in the temperature regulation system.”

  Konya gestured to the stasis unit’s top, which now was charred black. “That’s one way to put it. Dare I ask what was inside?”

  Nodding, Daret sighed. “This unit was housing the remains we believe belong to the real Ishan Anjar.”

  “There’s a coincidence,” Cruzen said, turning from her once-over of the lab’s other equipment. “You found it like this?”

  “Yes.” Daret gestured to the table. “The interior already was being consumed by fire when I entered the lab. I was able to extinguish it, but by then it was too late.”

  Reaching into one of her jacket’s other pockets, Crusher extracted her tricorder and activated it before sweeping it across the top of the ruined stasis unit. “I’m picking up residue from some kind of flammable compound inside the chamber and remnants of materials that aren’t part of the unit.” Something about the reading was off, somehow, but how or why eluded her. “This wasn’t an accident or a malfunction. Somebody rigged this thing to burn.” Eyeing the tricorder’s display, she realized what about the scan was bothering her. “Whatever they used, there was more than enough here to destroy the unit.”

  “You’re sure?” Konya asked.

  Crusher shrugged. “I’m no detective, but the presence of the foreign matter’s enough for me, particularly considering our present situation.”

  “After our little adventure down at the excavation site,” Cruzen said, “I’m okay with being a little suspicious.”

  Konya, who had moved to the room’s opposite side, had pulled his own tricorder and was conducting a scan. “Not a bad idea. Look at this.” He moved aside a large piece of lab equipment to reveal a small container on the floor beneath it.

  “What is that?” Crusher asked.

  Adjusting the setting on his phaser, Konya aimed at the package. “Some kind of improvised incendiary device. It’s packed with the same compound as the stasis unit.” He fired at the package, the phaser’s bright orange beam engulfing the small container and vaporizing it.

  “Found another one,” Cruzen said. After a third such device was found and destroyed, the lieutenant returned her weapon to her jacket. “Somebody wanted the whole lab to go up. It’s a good thing you got here when you did, Doctor Daret.”

  The Cardassian, who had taken a seat at his desk in the room’s far corner, released an irritated grunt. “Not early enough, I’m afraid.” He gestured once more to the devastated stasis unit. “The fire was more than sufficient to obliterate all of the samples.” Tapping controls on his computer workstation, he scowled. “According to the system access log, someone performed a search of all my data files, and the alarm system has been disabled, not just the fire alert.”

  Moving to stand behind her friend, Crusher crossed her arms. “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely. The entire security protocol was deactivated.” Daret tapped another control, and the data he had been reviewing vanished. Reaching past the workstation, he retrieved a wooden, hand-carved framed photograph of himself and a Bajoran. The image depicted the two figures standing at what looked to be the lip of a large, shallow crater. “I am sorry, Mosara.” Then, as though realizing Crusher was watching him, he looked up at her and smiled. “He gave this to me after our excursion to the Olanda labor camp. He even made the frame himself.” She watched him trace the image with his fingertips, pausing to tap the photo on an area of the landscape in the distance behind him. “We found a makeshift temple here, buried beneath the ground. It was never discovered by the guards.”

  “They must have gone to great lengths to protect it,” Crusher said.

  “Yes, though the inability of scanners to work at those levels was a great aid in that regard. Still, it is shameful that such actions were necessary. At least now, we’re trying to address the wrongs we perpetrated.” He smiled again. “Mosara always was certain that Bajorans and Cardassians, working together, could find a way to put the past behind us. He believed in this project more than anyone I know.” He sighed. “I have failed him.”

  Crusher placed a hand on his shoulder. “Not yet, you haven’t.”

  Rising from his chair, Daret placed the photograph back on his desk. “Why didn’t whoever did this just vaporize the stasis chamber and the samples? Why attempt to destroy the entire lab? Were they trying to make it look like an accident?”

  “That’s exactly what they were doing.”

  Crusher and everyone else looked up at the new voice to see Thomas Riker standing just inside the room’s entrance. She had not heard him enter the lab; it was though he had just materialized out of thin air.

  “Your friend does seem rather talented at employing stealth,” Daret said. “Disturbingly so, in fact.”

  “No kidding,” Crusher replied as the group converged on the ruined status unit.

  Overhearing the remarks, Tom smiled. “Sorry, Doctor. It’s an old habit. When you spend enough time around some of the people I’ve fallen in with over the years, you learn to be light on your feet. And fast, too.” His expression turned serious. “I’ve checked with the security detachment. No one’s come asking after the two Bajorans we gave to them.”

  “That might be telling us something,” Konya said. “They’re locals, right? Whoever put them up to trying to nab Doctor Daret doesn�
�t care about them. They’ve been hanging back, trying to keep a low profile, but I’d bet they’re the ones who set up the lab to burn.”

  Crusher gestured toward the exam table. “They took care of this, anyway.”

  “Right,” Tom said, “but they don’t know what else Doctor Daret might have. You said they checked your computer files. Did they find anything?”

  Shaking his head, Daret replied, “No. I kept none of Mosara’s notes there. Everything that he prepared he hid, along with additional samples of the remains belonging to the real Ishan Anjar.”

  “Which means whoever did this very likely knows or at least suspects what you and your friend have here,” Crusher said.

  Tom said, “Or, they’ve just been hired to collect or destroy your work, in addition to getting their hands on you. The two Bajorans wanted to take you somewhere, most likely to someone who knows what you and Doctor Raal have learned. In addition to making sure you stay quiet, they’ll want to know that any data you’ve collected won’t be found or used by anyone else. But, they still need you to help them get it.”

  “After which,” Daret said, “they will want to kill me.”

  “It’s what I’d do.” When that earned him disapproving looks from the rest of the group, Tom shrugged. “Sorry. I meant that if I was them, of course.”

  Crusher stepped next to Daret, placing her hand on his arm. “Mosara knew what he’d discovered was dangerous, which is why he went to such lengths to protect the evidence, and you.”

  “He may have done too good a job,” Cruzen said. She looked to Daret. “He didn’t offer you any clues as to where he might’ve stashed everything?”

  The Cardassian sighed. “Mosara told me nothing before he left.”

  “Sure he did,” Tom countered. “We just need to figure out how he did it.”

  * * *

  To Crusher, it looked as though an earthquake had been unleashed within Raal Mosara’s home. Furnishings and personal effects were scattered across the floor of the small, unassuming residence. Clothing had been torn from closets and bureaus, books and other items swept from shelves, and foodstuffs, cookware, and utensils had been pulled from storage cabinets in the cramped galley. Even the refrigeration unit, which to Crusher appeared as though it may have been emptied by Mosara prior to his departure, had been pulled from its mounting and allowed to fall to the floor.

  “I’m going to go out on a limb here,” Konya said, “and guess that Doctor Raal was a better housekeeper than this.”

  Cruzen, stepping over a chair that had been tipped over and its cushion torn from the frame, said, “I think my Academy roommate came through here.”

  Ignoring the security officers and their commentary, Crusher turned to Daret. “Do you have any idea when this might have happened?”

  “Within the past two days,” the Cardassian replied. “I was here tending to Mosara’s plants, and everything was in order.”

  Tom Riker crossed the room, scrutinizing every centimeter. “So, after you made contact with Doctor Crusher while she was on her way here from the Enterprise?” He frowned as he regarded her. “I guess that could answer the question of whether anyone may have followed you.”

  “We maintained constant sensor scans the whole way here,” Konya said. “Nobody was following us.”

  Grunting, Tom said, “If only they made some sort of device that might . . . I don’t know . . . cloak a ship’s movements. That sort of thing could really come in handy, don’t you think?”

  “You’re suggesting a cloaked ship followed us here?” Crusher asked. “Wouldn’t that narrow the possibilities to a Klingon or Romulan vessel?”

  Again Tom offered a cynical snort. “Yes, because as we all know, a lofty organization like Starfleet would never equip their ships with such dastardly gadgets.”

  “Well,” Cruzen said, “if President Ishan—or whatever the hell his name is—is sending someone to make sure his secrets stay buried, there’s no telling what resources he or somebody working for him might be channeling to such people.”

  The lieutenant’s unspoken accusation troubled Crusher. “You’re not suggesting that somebody from Starfleet is doing all of this?”

  “Somebody loyal to the president?” Tom asked. “That could be anyone. Starfleet, civilian, hired gun; who knows? We know the man has friends. I almost learned that lesson the hard way on Nydak II. It stands to reason that a few of them have pull with someone.” He gestured around the room. “What I don’t get is why they didn’t cover their tracks here but went to the trouble to stage an accident at your place.”

  Konya said, “Maybe they didn’t know that Doctor Daret comes here every so often. They weren’t expecting anyone to find this; not the way a fire would attract attention. Not that it really matters anymore. They know we’re here, and they probably know we’re onto them.”

  “But we don’t know who they are,” Crusher said. She touched Daret’s arm. “Mosara wouldn’t have left anything here, would he?”

  “I highly doubt it,” the elderly Cardassian replied. “He was much too careful, but you think he left a clue for me here?”

  Tom replied, “Here, or your place, or both. Somewhere the two of you had in common, and likely something not noticeable to anyone who didn’t know you very well.”

  “He always was so creative,” Daret said. “And so much smarter than me. I don’t even know where to look.”

  Cruzen stepped around a small table that had been upended and left propped against a shelving unit. “He’d want you to find it, but limit the possibility of someone else figuring it out. It’s probably something personal, something you’re both familiar with, or have worked on together, or exchanged.”

  With Konya and Cruzen taking up a security watch near the front entrance, Daret, Crusher, and Tom inspected the remainder of Raal Mosara’s home, including that portion of the residence which, like Daret’s, had been configured as a laboratory space. Much like the main room, the rest of the domicile was in similar disarray. Whoever had ransacked the rooms and their contents had been quite thorough, in Crusher’s estimation.

  “Can you tell if anything’s missing?” Crusher asked as they were finishing their check of the lab.

  “Nothing obvious,” Daret replied, moving past a worktable running the length of the room’s far wall to stop before a small metal desk. “So far as I know, Mosara kept nothing of any intrinsic value here. Only his work and a few mementos.” He lowered himself to one knee and reached beneath the desk to retrieve an item. When he returned to his feet, Crusher recognized the object as a broken frame encasing a photograph. The frame was wood, similar in style and texture to the one Daret had in his own lab, and a closer look confirmed her suspicion that it contained a copy of the same image of Daret and Mosara at the Olanda excavation site. Daret fumbled with the frame as though trying to mend it.

  “We probably don’t have much time,” Tom said, his back to them as he studied the emptied cabinets and their contents that had been scattered across the floor. “Whoever did this, assuming they didn’t find anything, is probably looking for you right now.” He turned to Crusher. “You, too, Doctor, and likely Lieutenant Cruzen, as well. If we’re lucky, they might not know about me, and maybe not Lieutenant Konya, but we have to keep assuming the worst.” To that end, he had directed Daret to pack whatever belongings he felt necessary before leaving the doctor’s own home, having convinced Crusher and the others that remaining here in the camp invited too much risk.

  “And we haven’t had any luck tracking down who might be after Ilona,” Crusher said. “It could be anyone.”

  “Yeah. Konya and I have been surveying the main camp as well as the excavation site, looking for anyone who might not fit in for one reason or another. The trouble with that strategy is that someone who knows what to look for knows we don’t fit in, either.” He shrugged. “Still, it beats waiting around here for someone to try and ambush us.”

  “Beverly.”

  Turning at the s
ound of Daret’s voice, Crusher saw that her friend still stood at Raal Mosara’s desk, holding the broken picture frame. His expression was one of surprise.

  “There’s something I think you both need to see.”

  He waited until Crusher and Tom joined him at the desk, then he pointed to the computer screen, upon which was displayed several icons. Crusher saw that each represented a different image, including several that appeared to be similar to the photograph in the broken frame.

  “I was looking through Mosara’s personal files, to see if anything had been accessed. All of these images were reviewed, but nothing appears to have been altered or destroyed.”

  Tom leaned closer, gesturing first to the screen and then to the photograph next to Daret’s right hand. “These all look to have been taken around the same time. Are they significant?”

  “Beyond what I already told you about the site and that we found the temple?” Daret asked. “No. We recorded these images to mark the occasion of the discovery. Mosara had been keeping detailed notes about his work, not just for the official reports but also because he was considering writing a book chronicling the entire effort. We even had discussed a collaboration, to ensure both Bajoran and Cardassian viewpoints were represented. It seemed a prudent approach, given the sensitivity of the subject matter.”

  Tom asked, “Where are those notes?”

  “I don’t know. They’re not here, so I assume Mosara either took them with him when he left for Bajor, or else he left them with the rest of his notes and other materials.” Daret tapped one of the icons displayed on the monitor, and the image expanded to fill the screen. Crusher recognized it as the same photograph framed and occupying space on both Daret’s and Raal’s desks, with the two of them standing at the edge of the wide, shallow crater that was the Olanda labor camp excavation site.

  Something’s different.

  “Hang on.” Crusher frowned at the sudden thought, leaning closer to the desk in order to study the picture.