Star Trek: Deep Space Nine - 062 - The Missing

by Una McCormack

  Pulaski dismissed this idea with a wave of the hand. “Assuming everything we discuss makes it back from Metiger to some imagined superiors—”

  Alden leaned forward to speak more confidentially. “I doubt you know much about the Tzenkethi. But I know a great deal. Firsthand. Of course Metiger will be reporting back to her superiors. She has that duty as a loyal servant of the Autarch. He cannot be everywhere at once, so she must act as his eyes and ears in places where he cannot be. She would no more imagine not reporting back to her superiors as you or I would imagine not breathing.”

  Pulaski held her breath ostentatiously for a few seconds, puffing up her cheeks and then pushing the air out noisily. “Yeah,” she said. “We’ll see.”

  Alden left. There was much murmuring around the rec room. Pulaski thought she heard one colleague, a Ferengi first-contact specialist named Delka, mutter, “Harsh . . .” But Pulaski was satisfied with how the encounter had gone. Until—

  “Katherine.”

  It was Tanj.

  “A quiet word in my office, please.”

  * * *

  “Oh, come on, Maurita, he was asking for it!”

  “Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you have to dish it out. What were you hoping to achieve by that performance?”

  Pulaski shrugged. “I wanted Metiger to know to keep an eye on him.”

  “And?”

  “All right, I also wanted to embarrass him.”

  “And you have. But you’ve embarrassed Metiger too.”

  “Embarrassed Metiger? How on earth—”

  “By pointing out to a roomful of people that our intelligence service doesn’t trust her. No, don’t speak yet. Shut up and listen. It’s worse than that. If I was in Metiger’s position, I would feel used.”

  “Used?”

  “Used by you to score a few points off a colleague.”

  Pulaski bit her lip. “I didn’t think.”

  Tanj sighed. “You rarely do, Kitty.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Apology accepted. But will you please let this drop? Alden is here for a few weeks only. Let us ignore him as best we can. For Metiger’s sake, at least.”

  “All right,” Pulaski said, “I’ll behave. It’ll be a long trip otherwise. But damn it, Maurita, I’m furious about this!”

  “I never would have guessed. But he’ll be gone before you know it. In the meantime, I think we can show Metiger in more positive ways that she is our colleague and that she has our support.”

  “All right. I’ll be good.” Pulaski laughed. “This is why I wanted you on this journey. You’re more of a diplomat than I’ll ever be.”

  “Kitty, you are no kind of diplomat at all. Stick to the science, my dear. I’ve got the egos in hand.”

  Pulaski smiled. “You’re the expert—”

  Their conversation was suddenly cut short. An alert was sounding about them. Tanj rose to her feet. “There must be a ship—” she began, but she was interrupted by a voice booming through the whole ship.

  “Proceed no farther. You are being observed. Stand down all weapons. This is not a request.”

  * * *

  Their ship was huge and black, as if the King of the Underworld had sent it as his messenger. It loomed vast and faceless before the Athene Donald, which seemed like a child’s trinket beside it—tiny, fragile, and crushable. There were no markings, no transponder signal to say who they were, only the instructions booming through the ship that the crew scrambled to obey. They had come as if from nowhere, and with them came death.

  * * *

  *I differentiate here between undercover operations and the necessary protocols for first contact with civilizations that are not yet spacefaring or for whom this is their first encounter with alien species. Suspicion is one thing, caution is another—and it is not hard to imagine how the sudden appearance above a world of a space vessel vastly more powerful even than anything that has appeared in that world’s fantastical imaginings might have disastrous effects.

  Part Two

  * * *

  Cease from Exploration

  Five

  Captain’s Log, Personal.

  What form might the first encounter with a new species take?

  We most easily imagine the discovery of a new world, perhaps, with numerous civilizations and histories to be learned and understood. Or perhaps a new species suddenly arrives from nowhere, announcing itself to ship and crew? Both of these fire the imagination, and many such cases—and their pitfalls and difficulties—are documented not only in my own logs but also in those of the other Starfleet captains who have traveled in hopeful search of new life.

  Less common for the starship captain in command of an exploration vessel is the chance, even informal, meeting—the voyager passing through at a deep space station, perhaps, or some other outpost. Here the challenges arising from initial encounters can be more complex, but the rewards are arguably greater, since these travelers are less likely to be typical of their civilizations (being, as they are, away from home for reasons of their own) and more likely to be outliers of some sort. They may not, in that case, represent what is typical of their civilizations, although that does not, of course, prevent them from being equally revealing.

  Something, after all, drives us away from our homes to voyage among the stars. Something, after all, has made us . . . I would not say disaffected, but certainly restless in some way, eager for new experiences and adventures.

  Are we explorers typical of the Federation? And what might our restlessness say about the civilization that we have left behind?

  The black ship sat motionless in space before the Athene Donald for hours, uncommunicative and unmoving. The message that had so forcefully penetrated all decks of the ship had, mercifully, gone on for only five minutes before cutting out. After that the ship had fallen completely silent—but terribly, frighteningly present: a vast and steely imposition upon space.

  “What are they doing over there?” muttered Pulaski, staring at the view screen at the amazing vessel. “Why go to the trouble of making contact with us if you don’t then go on to . . . well, make contact?”

  The first-contact specialist, Delka, looked up from the notes she had been working through with Tanj. “Their message said we were being observed. I assume they’re observing us.”

  “For this long?” Pulaski said. “We’re not that interesting.”

  Delka smiled, all teeth. She was a bright, no-nonsense Ferengi, one of the new breed of professional women starting to fill up the junior branches of the Ferengi civil service. Pulaski liked her, admiring the guts necessary to make her way in her chauvinist society. Delka, in turn, had shown all the signs of finding Pulaski amusing, which was, as Tanj had found over the years, one of the best ways to handle Pulaski. “Perhaps we have a homespun charm that they find quaint,” Delka said.

  Alden came over to join them, having requested he be present in the briefings and for formal first contacts. Pulaski hadn’t liked the idea, of course, but Tanj had acquiesced. “He’s on board now, Kitty,” she had said, “so we might as well make use of his expertise. He’ll only cause trouble if we don’t.”

  “Any idea how long this might go on?” Alden asked Delka.

  “Not a clue,” the Ferengi replied. “Their idea of the passage of time might be completely at odds with ours. I suggest that if it gets to a couple of months, we might want to try initiating contact ourselves.”

  “Months?” said Alden, as Pulaski said, “You are joking, aren’t you?”

  Delka shrugged. “Let me tell you a secret about first-contact specialists. We’re mostly making it up as we go along. How else could it be? I’ve never met these people in my life and neither has anyone else that I’ve read about.”

  “So what exactly is the use of you?” Pulaski said impatiently. Again her prejudice against the social sciences was being confirmed: conjecture and intuition dressed up as fact.

  “Rather offensive, Kitty,” murmured Tanj.

/>   “Oh, I’m not offended,” said Delka cheerfully. “It’s a fair enough question. I can’t speak for my other colleagues, but I at least”—and here she tapped her bulbous brow—“have an encyclopedic knowledge of over four and a half thousand first-contact situations, good and bad. No first contact is the same, but some of this information might come in useful when we try to judge how best to interact with these people. Think of it . . . like case law in the legal profession.”

  “That’s a good analogy,” said Pulaski, content to acknowledge expertise when she saw it.

  “Thank you,” said Delka with a laugh.

  “But it’s so . . .”

  “Uncertain?” Delka smiled. “Imprecise? Isn’t that what all science is like? A voyage of exploration, mapping out uncharted territory?”

  Suddenly, the view screen shimmered into life.

  “Step up, Maurita,” Delka said. “Your moment’s here.”

  Tanj positioned herself in front of the screen, settling her shoulders back and folding her hands before her so that she looked authoritative but nonconfrontational. A face appeared on the screen, humanoid but obviously alien, all lines and angles, with grayish skin and dark markings around the throat. Pulaski glanced over at Alden, who was staring at the view screen. His hand, Pulaski noticed, had strayed to his side, where a weapon might be, if weapons were permitted on board the Athene Donald. She looked back at the alien. Something about its demeanor reminded her of Alden: taut, severe, and impassive.

  The alien spoke. Through the translators, its voice conveyed little in the way of emotion, sounding formal and stiff.

  “My name is Tey Aoi of the Chain. I wish to meet your leaders. We will send a team of personnel onto your ship.”

  “ ‘Please’ goes a long way, you know,” muttered Pulaski.

  Gently, Delka patted Pulaski’s arm.

  Tanj cleared her throat. “My name is Doctor Maurita Tanj. I am director of research on the civilian vessel Athene Donald. We are a scientific research and exploration ship crewed by representatives from many species. Part of our mission is to seek out new life in order to learn and, perhaps, in some small way, to teach.”

  A brief flicker passed across Tey Aoi’s face. Was it offended? Amused? Intrigued?

  “With your permission,” Tanj went on, “we would like to send a small team of scientists across to your ship to meet you.”

  There was a pause. Then Tey Aoi said, “We know about your ship. We know your purpose. You may not come on board. But we will send our own team over. Wait for our instructions.”

  The comm cut out. “Brisk,” said Pulaski, “not to mention bossy. And how do they know about us already?”

  Alden looked up from a tricorder. “I’d like to know that too,” he said. “In the meantime, I’d do what Tey Aoi says. That ship is armed to the teeth.”

  Pulaski sighed. “Always about the weapons with you lot, isn’t it?”

  “Somebody has to care about potential threats,” Alden said.

  “They haven’t issued any threats,” Pulaski pointed out.

  “I said ‘potential.’ ” Alden turned to Tanj. “I’d like to be part of the team meeting the Chain when they come aboard.”

  Pulaski narrowed her eyes and, glancing at Tanj, shook her head. No damn way.

  “I’ll consider your request, Commander,” Tanj said. “There are some obvious candidates for inclusion—myself and Delka. I don’t want to overwhelm our visitors with too many new faces.”

  Alden nodded. “That seems fair.” He turned to the view screen, where Tey Aoi’s image had been. “Is it me,” he said, “or is the universal translator putting their speech into blank verse?”

  * * *

  “So we’ve got Delka, obviously,” said Tanj. “And I’d suggest Metiger, for reasons of internal politics—”

  They were sitting in Tanj’s office, deciding on the best team to meet the representatives of the Chain.

  Pulaski frowned. “What do you mean by that? I’m not sure I like the idea of doing things because of politics.”

  “What I mean,” said Tanj, “is that I want to make sure that the Tzenkethi are given no reason to complain that Metiger was treated in any way differently from the rest of us. This isn’t simply a Federation first-contact mission. Delka is a representative of the Ferengi Alliance, and Metiger represents the Tzenkethi Coalition.”

  “Shouldn’t everyone be in on the act in that case?” Pulaski said dryly. “We’ve some Cardassians you can press into service, not to mention a couple of Romulans lurking around—”

  “Fortunately they are too junior to be able to pull rank and insist on their involvement. Besides, Metiger is pretty impressive—”

  “Ain’t that the truth!”

  “And I’d rather like to do something to impress. Despite which, I’m going to let you loose on them, Kitty.”

  “Oh, thanks!”

  “Leaving me with one more person to find—”

  “Not Alden,” Pulaski said quickly.

  When Tanj didn’t immediately agree, Pulaski looked at her in alarm. “You’re not seriously thinking of including him, are you? He’s only here on sufferance in the first place! He forced himself on board! We don’t have to let Starfleet Intelligence get their finger into every damn pie—”

  “That’s not why I’m thinking of including him,” Tanj said. “Do you know his background?”

  “No idea,” Pulaski said. “Do they send them to special spy school, or do they pluck them out of the ether already paranoid and obstructive?”

  Tanj smiled. “He trained in xenosociolinguistics. How alien languages work. I gather this is why he originally became interested in the Tzenkethi. Their language has a vast number of dialects that are not all mutually intelligible, and even within these, there are very precise modes of address. These all reinforce social structure, of course. He began a doctoral thesis on the subject but didn’t quite complete it before Starfleet Intelligence got their hands on him.” She sighed. “So many good minds get sidetracked that way.”

  “Where are you getting all this information about Tzenkethi language from?” Pulaski said. “Not from Metiger, surely?” Metiger had never shown any sign of being willing to speak about Tzenkethi society before, deftly fielding questions.

  “No, from Alden’s field reports.”

  “You have access to them?” Pulaski’s eyebrows went up. “I would have thought they’d be classified—”

  Tanj gave a noncommittal smile. “Oh, a friend of a friend of a friend was able to help . . .”

  Pulaski laughed. “We all need friends like that from time to time. So you’re not averse to a little spying yourself?”

  Tanj’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t think I’d let him loose on my ship without being informed, do you?”

  Pulaski smiled. “I knew there was a reason I liked you. You’re all warmth and ‘let’s be friends,’ but in fact you’re as manipulative as hell.”

  “Don’t you forget it. And right now I’m attempting to manipulate you into letting Peter Alden take part in this first-contact scenario. And it’s not because I want to placate Starfleet Intelligence. I think he might have some genuinely interesting insights, but also—”

  “Because he will have to work with Metiger,” Pulaski said. “You really are a manipulator, aren’t you?”

  Tanj sighed. “I want this voyage to work. I don’t want our first mission soured by distractions.”

  Pulaski thought carefully about what to say next. “You know, when I realized we were stuck with Alden, I did a little poking around myself. I took a look at his medical records.”

  Tanj was startled. “Are you supposed to do that?”

  “I’m CMO of this ship. If I think there’s a reason that something about his medical status might affect the rest of the crew adversely, I can do whatever the hell I like.”

  “I think you’re pushing your luck there,” Tanj said. “And are you supposed to tell me what you read?”

 
; “If I think you need to know anything.”

  “And do I? Need to know anything?”

  “Maybe.” Pulaski sighed and leaned back in her chair. “The last mission Alden went on where he met a Tzenkethi, the contact nearly drove him to a breakdown.”

  “What?”

  “He had some kind of phobic reaction, apparently. I’m telling you this because if you want to put him into a potentially stressful situation with a Tzenkethi around, you ought to know that there are risks.”

  Tanj sat deep in thought for a while. “I think we should include him nonetheless,” she said. “I’ve seen no similar reactions to Metiger the whole time he’s been on board, and he’s been traveling with a Tzenkethi for months now, by all accounts. Perhaps exposure is better than avoidance.”

  “He and what’s her name were traveling as companions, though,” Pulaski pointed out. “Not working alongside each other.”

  “Was he working alongside a Tzenkethi when he had this almost breakdown?” Tanj asked.

  “No,” admitted Pulaski. “From what I can make out, it was a high-stress situation with a lot of mistrust flying about.”

  “There you are,” said Tanj, satisfied. “Completely different. Working with Metiger might be exactly what he needs to make him understand that he doesn’t have to greet every Tzenkethi with fear and alarm.”

  Pulaski smiled at her friend. “Always the optimist, eh?”

  “Always,” Tanj said firmly.

  “Then Alden it is,” Pulaski said. “Will you tell him, or shall I?”

  They told him together. Seeing his genuinely pleased expression, Pulaski thought that maybe she was catching a glimpse of why this young man had chosen to go into Starfleet in the first place. It was also, perhaps, an insight into some of the damage done to him on Ab-Tzenketh.

  He’s an entirely different generation, she thought. Not like ours. We assume that we’ll enjoy whatever the universe has to offer. But his is a generation shaped by war. They came of age in a time not of freedom and exploration but of threat and defense. We didn’t have that. It came to us much later. That must make a difference.