Strange New Worlds VIII

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Strange New Worlds VIII Page 18

by Dean Wesley Smith


  “Well nothing. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “Secret.” He actually whispered the single word, as if it carried the weight of the world in its six letters.

  Falling into his clandestine routine, Kira caught herself about to glance over each shoulder. “I get it. This is one of Julian’s spy programs, and I’m the punch line.”

  “No!”

  “You don’t have to be so emphatic about it.”

  “Yes, I do.” Suddenly, he was the soul of contrition. “This is important, Kira.”

  “To whom?”

  “You.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Listen, dollface. If you can’t trust a wiseguy hologram, who can you trust?”

  She looked down to study the padd again, partly to cover the little smile that seemed to quirk her lips of its own volition. “I’m busy.”

  “Sure you are. You’re always busy. You need a break.” He held out an arm to either side, swooped them up and down a bit, looking as if he’d love to take flight himself. “Come on. Think about it. A little downtime. Fly around in a runabout for a while. Blow out the cobwebs. Maybe a picnic . . . ”

  His words trailed out behind him as he wandered away for a moment. When he reappeared, he was carrying an old-fashioned wicker basket, which he handed her with great ceremony, and not a little pleading. It was real. “You know you want to.”

  “Well—”

  “It’s settled, then.”

  “Vic, I . . . ”

  “I know. Don’t worry about it.” His wink was so fleeting, she almost missed it. “I know, and I’m telling you you’ll be making a huge mistake if you don’t trust me.”

  “I don’t trust any—”

  “Yes, you do, and we both know it. Now get going.” He shooed her away, but as she made to leave, he grabbed her arm to pull her to a halt again. “It’s not just for you. It’s important to someone else too. Do it for them.”

  “Who—”

  “Secret.”

  * * *

  Kira materialized in a large, sunny meadow that would have been idyllic if not for the boisterous sounds of many happy children. She stood for a moment, trying to take in the totally unexpected scene, clutching her picnic basket in a not quite steady grasp.

  What am I doing here? The hair-prickling feeling that preceded a “gotcha!” was creeping up the back of her neck. The temptation to beam herself right back to where she came from and point the runabout toward the station was almost overwhelming. However, she was Kira Nerys, resistance fighter turned commander of Deep Space 9. That meant she did not run from the unfamiliar, the frightening, or the laughter of what sounded like a small army made up of children. No, indeed. Kira Nerys simply girded her loins, or in this case tightened her grip on her basket, and marched forward into—

  “Greetings, child.”

  Apparently, she had marched forward into a collision course with an elderly woman. Kira looked down, and then down some more, eventually locating the source of her welcome. The tiny form, swathed in the palest of peach-colored robes, tilted her head back to study her visitor’s expression. Recognizing that the woman was a member of some sort of religious order, Kira bowed slightly to signify her respect.

  “Greetings . . . ”

  “I am Bel.”

  “Hello, Bel. I am Kira Nerys.”

  Bel nodded solemly. “You are welcome, Kira Nerys, though unexpected.”

  “I apologize for just . . . dropping in like this.”

  “There is no need, child. All are welcome with the Hands of the Prophets.” Wizened fingers hovered between them. “May I?”

  Realizing what was asked of her, Kira bent to accommodate the other woman’s slight stature. Gentle fingers brushed her ear, then clasped for a moment. The brief contact was severed, and Bel smiled beatifically, almost as if Kira were no longer present.

  “Your pagh is strong. Conflicted, yet devout and able. May I know what brings you to us this day?”

  “I was . . . sent.”

  “Ah.” As if that explained everything. Perhaps it did. “Then it is the will of the Prophets. What do you wish to see here?”

  “I . . . ” What did she wish to see? The reason she had come to this place would be nice, but, since she didn’t know what that was, information would do. “May I know what is happening? The children . . . ?”

  “The children are everything. They are orphans. Some from the occupation and now of the war. More and more, they come to us, trickling into our care as our mission becomes known. We know not how. That, too, is the will of the Prophets. Perhaps they come to us by way of the Celestial Temple itself.”

  “I see.” She didn’t, exactly, but she did not know how else to respond. She had no idea why she had been summoned to this place, at this time, to meet this person. Maybe she could ask more questions and piece it all together into something that made sense. “And these are the grounds of the orphanage?”

  “Why, no, child. The orphanage is concealed in nearby caverns. The location is known to few. By living so secretive a life as to almost become myth, we have managed to keep the children safe.” Bel smiled with benevolent grace. “This is a place where we bring the children every year, whenever it is deemed safe enough. The land was deeded to us by a dear benefactress. We have always been graced by her presence during our times of joy here, and she never arrived without small gifts for us all, but this time . . . ”

  “This time?” Kira prompted.

  “We are alone.”

  “Who—”

  Bel studied Kira with a surprisingly shrewd gaze. “If you were sent by the Prophets . . . ”

  What? Then I’d already know? Kira was beginning to think this woman had a totally unrealistic idea of what had brought them together. She had no intention of trying to explain that instead of by the Prophets she had been directed here by coordinates on a padd given to her by a sentient hologram. Maybe she should just bow out gracefully, and try to make Vic explain what he’d been trying to accomplish.

  “ . . . then it is surely their will that you know of our benefactress. You must promise not to reveal that of which I speak.”

  “Of course. I promise.”

  “Very well.” Bel looked skyward for a moment, as if still unsure and seeking the counsel of the Prophets directly. “The world knew her as Kai Winn, but to us she was simply Adami. While duties elsewhere prevented her from joining our humble order, she was truly a Hand of the Prophets in spirit. We were blessed by her presence whenever she could find the time to spend with the children and we all benefited greatly from her generosity. She has always been . . . ”

  Kira lost coherent thought around the word “humble.” She didn’t know whether to laugh hysterically or sob in a mixture of grief and confusion. In the end, all she did was smile kindly and offer agreement. The Winn that Bel described was not the cold, calculating snake Kira had come to know, and both despise and pity. If that woman had had another side, one that brought joy to lost children, then who was she to take any of that away from these people? Could gaining this knowledge be why she was here? How would Vic of all people have known? And what would she be expected to do with the incongruous concept of that particular kai as benevolent benefactress, now that she had been confronted with it?

  Before she could even begin to really process the bombshell that the old woman thought of as blessed tidings, Kira found herself abandoned. Bel’s features, in her version of a smile, crinkled up like an apple left in the sun too long, as she offered her only treasure to her guest. “Kira Nerys, please explore our gathering. Since Adami is not with us this season, perhaps the Prophets have sent you to join our other helpers in making the children happy.”

  With that invitation, which sounded almost like a benediction, Bel turned and walked away. Kira stared after her for a moment, then looked around, searching out the source of the laughter. She followed the sound, and soon found herself joining a group of small children as t
hey played the games she remembered from her own childhood. No matter the circumstances, somehow children always found a way to play, if only in an effort to remove themselves mentally from the torture of their lives. Today, however, there was no tortured existence. There was only joy and sunshine and . . . the scent of cookies and small cakes, as somehow her basket became open and the contents passed among the revelers.

  Vic had known, all right. This had to be why she was here.

  * * *

  A hawk soared overhead, making Kira and the current group of children with whom she played look up and shade their eyes to savor its grace and beauty. There were other animals present, as well. Only a few, but they were magnificent. In the time she spent in the meadow, Kira saw several creatures that drew a smile, as she remembered from her own childhood the stories and dreams of all young ones to be among the creatures nature had provided as beloved companions and loyal helpers.

  The day wore long and Kira grew exhausted, in a good way. She had played every game she could remember, and quite a few she’d never heard of before her very strange adventure had begun. Her most recent playmates scampered off, at a call from one of their custodians, leaving her to want nothing more than to throw herself down onto the soft grass and take a nap.

  Before she could do more than pick out a perfect spot, a large animal bounded up and nudged affectionately against her. Laughing with delight, she bent to ruffle the shaggy black and white hair along its back. It was an Old English sheepdog. Miles had told her about them once when she’d spied an image in one of Yoshi’s books. She had declared to one and all forever after that someday when she retired, she would own a house with a yard, so she could get one of the big dogs that looked so friendly and so very soft to the touch.

  Now, she knew that they were, indeed, very soft and very friendly, but what she couldn’t figure out was what it was doing on Bajor. Mystified, and intrigued, she laughed out loud when pleading brown eyes followed her every move, as the dog tried to lead her away from the meadow. It would take a few steps, turn and beg her with its surprisingly eloquent gaze, then run a small distance away, only to stop and look over its shoulder beseechingly.

  “Okay, fellow, how can I possibly resist? But you’d better not lead me down the garden path, you know. I have friends in high places.” She chuckled at herself for talking to a dog as if it were her new best friend, and set off after it.

  Before long they reached a crystal-clear stream that burbled merrily in a tiny, fern-covered glen. Wildflowers grew in profusion, and the air smelled like honey and sweetly damp moss. Enchanted, Kira sank down on the inviting cushion of the greenery-covered bank. The dog promptly joined her, flopping onto the grass and laying its head in her lap.

  “I’ll bet you never meet a stranger, huh?” She could hear the smile in her own voice, as she ran her fingers lazily through the inviting mane. “I don’t know how you got here, or why you decided to like me, but I’m glad you did. I needed a chance to sit quietly with a friend more than even I knew.”

  She kept murmuring to the dog, telling it about her life and the job she both loved and resented. She spoke of her grief over the absence of the man who knew how to run the station better than she ever would, as well as the strange mixture of loneliness and pride and love she felt for the noble, lost love of her life. Somehow, in the comforting presence of a creature that seemed to understand her every word, she even cried a little. When she was finished with every word and every tear, she smiled.

  “I sure wish I knew where you came from.” Giving in to an impulse that made her feel a little silly, she snapped her fingers at the dog to get it to sit up, and then wrapped her arms around it in a fierce, grateful hug. “I guess old Bel would say you were sent by the Prophets, since I seem to have needed you so much today. Maybe you were. It’s so odd, though, to find you here. I’ve wanted to meet a sheepdog for a long time now.”

  Suddenly, the form in her arms shivered slightly. It shifted and reshaped, transforming itself entirely. Before it was even half-finished with the process that only took a moment, Kira realized what was happening and started to cry again. “Oh!”

  “I know you have, Nerys, because you told me.”

  “Odo . . . ”

  They kissed. At least, it was the version of a kiss that a Changeling and a Bajoran could offer each other, and Kira had quickly come to believe that it was better than any contact two of her own people could ever conceive of. It was magic. And it was hers.

  Eventually, she pushed away just far enough to study every inch of the dear, unfinished features. And then the rest. “You’re wearing a tux.”

  “Of course.”

  “You make a great sheepdog.”

  That growling chuckle was all the reward she would ever need, for the uncertain times she’d spent wondering if he was all right, and, just a bit, in the back of her heart, if he was missing her as much as she was missing him. “I probably make a better sheepdog, but I thought you’d like to see the other me.”

  “You thought right!” She was laughing and crying and happier than she’d known it was possible to be. “Tell me everything.”

  * * *

  “You knew all this time . . . ”

  “Guilty.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Would you have believed me?”

  “No.” Kira wrinkled her already wrinkly nose, and laughed. “Not until recently, anyway.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Odo sighed. “She asked me not to tell anyone, of course. More like swore me to secrecy. So I’d come here every year, to help her give these poor children some brief moments of happiness, and we were just Odo and Adami. If not friends, then allies with a common cause. The rest of the year, when our paths crossed, constable and kai made no acknowledgment that we shared a secret.”

  “What do you think it means?”

  “Means? Nerys, I’d be as likely to unravel the mysteries of the Celestial Temple as to ever understand that woman. Though I knew a side of her that few saw, I also knew the ugly, self-serving creature who schemed and manipulated everyone and everything that got in the way of her voracious ambition. Which was the real person? Both. Of that much I’m certain. She was to be admired . . . and pitied. A bittersweet legacy, at best.”

  “Don’t forget that it’s because of her that you were able to convince some of your people to come this time.” Kira shook her head slightly, remembering the gentle animals the children had so enjoyed.

  “Yes. There is that.”

  His already snug embrace tightened just a little more. They had talked and talked, and then joined together into the shimmering unity that was like nothing either could ever experience apart. Night had fallen upon them, but their own light had been all they needed.

  Now they sat quietly talking by moonlight. Each moment was a treasure. A gift. Soon it would be over, but for now it seemed as if there would never be enough words.

  “I made the right choice, Nerys.”

  “I know.” It came out as a mere breath.

  “That doesn’t mean there are no regrets.”

  “I know that too.” She thought for a moment. “Quark was right.”

  He pressed the back of a hand to her forehead. “Funny, you don’t feel feverish.”

  “I’m not, even if admitting that does make my head feel as if it’s going to explode.”

  “I can imagine.” Odo chuckled, his hand slipping downward to caress her features. “What was he right about?”

  “He said there’s always a price. Something about the Rules of Acquisition.”

  “It’s always about the Rules of Acquisition with a Ferengi.”

  “Yes, but he was right, which is a scary thought. It was almost profound, for him. On the surface he was talking about business, but he also said I should know better than most.”

  Odo made that growling grunt of a noise he seemed to reserve solely for Quark. “Sounds like you had quite a conversation.”

  “Not real
ly. He was just giving me a hard time about getting in to see Vic.”

  “Vic?”

  “So I could find out what he wanted. Turned out all he’d do was give me these coordinates, hand me a picnic basket, and pretty much beg me to come here.”

  “Vic?”

  “Yes, Vic. You’re repeating yourself, Odo. That’s not like you.”

  “Perhaps not, but it’s very like Quark to weasel out of the only favor I’ve ever asked of him.”

  “You asked Quark for a favor?”

  “I thought he was my best hope of getting you here. Since he’s such an expert at clandestine . . . anything.”

  “Why did it have to be clandestine?”

  “I wanted to surprise you.”

  Kira laughed out loud. “Vic had that part down. Every time I’d ask why, all he would say was ‘Secret.’ ”

  “Huh. I suppose Quark knew what he was doing, after all.”

  “Now that I know what’s going on, I’m sure of it. I would have never done a single thing just because he told me to.” She felt her entire face pinch up in distaste. “He said to tell you that you owe him one.”

  “Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  “I thought he meant Vic, but now . . . ”

  “Now I’ll have to look over my shoulder, wondering what he’s going to want . . . .” He shrugged. “Oh, who cares? The Great Link doesn’t have shoulders. And I guess I really do owe him one at that.”

  “Don’t worry; I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

  “Fine.” Odo tilted up his head to gaze at the tree-fringed, starlit sky. “And every time I see the stars, I’ll pretend I’m still here with you.”

  “You can daydream in the Great Link?”

  “Oh, Nerys . . . in a way, that’s what the Great Link is.”

  “I wish . . . ”

  “As do I.”

  A silence fell, but it was the kind that was alive with emotion. It seemed an eternity passed, as they savored the moment and the fact that they were together. Finally, Odo took her face into both his hands, kissed her, and then gazed deeply into her eyes.

  “It will be time soon. They’re waiting for me.”

 

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