Myriad Universes - Infinity's Prism Part 30

"Bloodline only sets the mold for a man. It does not predetermine his character."

"Some would dispute that," Bashir said carefully, considering the youth, searching his face for a measure of his honesty.

Jacob took a breath. "I know that many aboard the Defiance think I am my father's eyes and ears," he began.

"I have never said those words," Bashir replied, but the young man kept talking.

"The reality is, he had me a.s.signed to this vessel not so I might keep an eye on you, lord, but so that he could watch over me." Jacob's face softened a little. "My father...is not a generous man. Control is very important to him."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I know that when you arrive in Bajor orbit with the Botany Bay following on behind, he will take it from you and make certain it is his name that Khan Tiberius Seja.n.u.s Singh hears, not yours. He will make this prize his own."

Julian was very still. "A loyal son would want that, would he not? Glory for his father?"

Jacob's eyes flashed. "The only glory I wish for is the glory of the Khanate and Earth..." He hesitated. "And if some fraction of that might come to you, Princeps, then it would also touch your crew."

A slow smile crossed Bashir's face. The boy was telling the complete truth. There was no artifice about him. "Tell me, Jacob. What do you want from your service?"

"A command of my own, one day," he admitted. "But only one that I earn myself, not one granted to me through my father's influence."

"If Lord-Commander Sisko learned of this conversation, he would not be pleased, you realize that?"

Jacob nodded. "I see no need for him to be told, Princeps, do you? All I have done is what a good adjutant must do: give his commander all the information there is at hand."

"Indeed," Bashir replied. "And so you have." He turned to leave.

"If I may ask, sir, what will you do?"

Julian didn't look back as he walked away. "I am going to meet these people from the past, and see how unlike we truly are."

3.

Bashir had to bend down to step through the hatchway into the Botany Bay's gymnasium/recreation room. Several heads turned to study him as he entered, and on their faces he saw a mixture of anxiety, fear, and distrust. Each of the awakened sleepers wore the same kind of single-piece ship suits, largely characterless except for nameplates over the right breast and a pair of insignia patches on the shoulders. One symbol showed the sleeper ship in flight against a starry background; the others differed in color and pattern. After a moment, Julian recognized the sigils as national pennants from the countries of old Earth.

Dax was already there with Amoros, seeing to the welfare of a dark-skinned man lying on a temporary gurney. The princeps nodded to them, gesturing for them to continue.

One of the sleepers drew himself up, and Bashir recognized the man from the cryo-chamber. The captain. He still seemed tense and haggard, but his deathly pallor was gone. Like all of them, the man was a head shorter than any of the Defiance's human crew. Julian evaluated him as he took a step forward: the man moved with the awkwardness of someone recovering his balance, but still he had the watchful air of a career soldier about him. For a moment, Bashir thought of how he would kill this man, if the need arose. If matters turned to that, it would not be difficult. He had no doubt that any one of his crew could end the life of a Basic with a single, well-aimed blow. I wonder: is he now asking himself a similar question about me?

"I'm Captain Shaun Christopher, commander of the Botany Bay. I take it we've got you to thank for our wake-up call?" There was open challenge in the man's words.

Bashir gave a nod in return. "I am Princeps Julian Bashir of the Starship Defiance. You have already met some of my crew..." He gestured toward Amoros and Ezri.

"Starship?" An auburn-haired woman sounded out the word, making it a question. "And you say you're from Earth, is that right?" The name O'Donnel was visible on her uniform.

"We are," Bashir allowed. "Although some of my crew are from other worlds. Dax here, for example."

O'Donnel studied the elfin Trill and gestured at her own neck. "Those dots on your flesh...That's natural? Not a tattoo?"

"She is not human," Bashir answered for the helot. "She is from a world called Trill."

Christopher gave the woman a sideways look. "Let's take this one step at a time, Shannon." He glanced up at Julian. "Shannon O'Donnel's my senior engineer," he explained. "These are my other core staff; Hachirota Tomino, copilot. Rudy Laker, environmental ops, and Rain Robinson, navigator. The guy on the gurney is Reggie Warren."

Tomino gave a curt nod but said nothing, cradling a squeeze-bulb of water in his hands; the man wore a set of corrective lenses over his eyes, and Bashir found himself wondering why someone with less than perfect optical acuity had even been considered for the crew of an interstellar vessel. The rail-thin Laker had a dour expression, and he too did not venture any words.

But Robinson looked up, pushing back an unkempt line of dark hair from her face, and her eyes widened as she ran her gaze over Julian. "Whoa. They sure breed you fellas big out here, huh?"

A tic of amus.e.m.e.nt tugged at Bashir's lips. Robinson was the only one of them who looked at him without fear. There was a spark of intelligence in her eyes he found interesting. She was appealing, in an everyday sort of way.

Christopher's cautious manner remained unchanged. "As you can imagine, we've got a lot of questions," he continued, "and frankly, your people haven't been very forthcoming."

"Caution is a matter of course in s.p.a.ce, Captain, would you not agree? You must understand, we did not expect to encounter your ship in this region."

Robinson spoke before Christopher could answer. "And where exactly is this region? Your men haven't let us take a star fix or anything."

The captain nodded. "That's as good a place to start as any, uh, Princeps." Bashir's rank seemed awkward coming from his mouth. "How about it?"

Julian hesitated, unsure how much he should reveal at once. "You have covered a very great distance. Over one hundred light-years."

"A hundred?" repeated Shannon. "Then...Eta Ca.s.siopeiae, where we were aiming for...We didn't get there..."

"Your journey was extended by quite a measure."

Christopher stepped closer to Bashir, his eyes narrowing. "We've seen the equipment you brought aboard our ship, your gear..." He jabbed a finger at the pistol and hand computer hanging from Bashir's armor, and then at the medical kit in Amoros's hands. "What kind of technology is that? I've never seen anything like it."

"They are tools," Julian mood-shifted; he was starting to take issue with the man's tone, his lack of respect.

"Let's start over." Christopher folded his arms. "I have a different question. Tell me what year it is."

Bashir began to turn toward Amoros. "Perhaps, if-"

"Did you mishear me?" Christopher demanded. "It's not a tough one. What's the date?"

Julian gave him a cold stare, his expression hardening. "By your system of calculation, it is June eighteenth, in the year 2376."

O'Donnel's hand flew to her mouth in shock, and Bashir was slightly pleased by the sudden, stunned expression on Christopher's face. The statement had blown the wind from the captain's sails.

Only Robinson spoke, in an awed gasp. "Three hundred sixty-six years. Holy s.h.i.t." An amazed grin flashed across her face. "Wow. I'm old."

"That can't be right," insisted Tomino. "Botany Bay only had enough longevity for the flight to Eta Cas."

"It seems your vessel was better constructed than you thought," Dax offered, and Bashir nodded, giving her permission to go on. "It is remarkable that a craft like yours has survived for so long."

"Everything we knew is gone..." O'Donnel said softly, her voice heavy with quiet shock. "All of it, just dust..." She clutched her hands together to stop them from trembling.

"We left Earth behind," Christopher told her. "Remember, Shannon, we left all that..."

Laker nodded. "He's right. This doesn't change anything."

"It doesn't?" The woman shot her captain a severe look. "Dammit, Shaun! You didn't say a thing about being on ice until the twenty-fourth century! You told us we'd wake up in orbit around a new planet, somewhere we could make a fresh start!"

"There is a thriving colony in the Eta Ca.s.siopeiae system," said Amoros, packing away his medical gear. "It is called Terra Nova."

Warren sat up. "Maybe we should head back there..."

The doctor paused, musing. "You would not fit in."

O'Donnel glared at the deck. "Isn't that why we left home in the first place?"

Bashir saw the spark of silent communication that flashed between Tomino and Christopher at the other woman's terse statement. She spoke out of turn. They are concealing something from us.

"We examined your ship's logs," said Dax. "There was some data loss. The circ.u.mstances of your departure from Earth were unreadable..."

"We..." Christopher hesitated for a moment, and then let his shoulders sag. He placed a hand on his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry. Could we discuss this at another time? I'm growing...fatigued."

"Yeah," added Tomino. "Me too."

Robinson caught a sharp glance from her commander and nodded slowly. "Oh, right. Yeah. Tired."

Amoros opened his mouth, a disagreement forming on his lips, but Bashir spoke first. "Of course. Forgive me, this ordeal must be quite trying for you. We will let you rest."

"I appreciate that," Christopher replied.

Bashir nodded, his smile never touching his eyes. "And of course, I will leave a contingent of my men on board to a.s.sist you."

"That's not necessary."

He turned away, weighing the man's blatant lie in his thoughts. "Oh, I insist, Captain Christopher."

Rel spun the Vulcan lirpa around in a sharp arc and brought it down at Bashir's head; the princeps blocked it with the short sword and shoved her back. Her bare feet skipped across the combat room's pliant flooring and she sucked in a breath, her chest heaving. He nodded, wiping a line of sweat from his brow. "Go on," he told her. "What else have you learned?"

The Andorian engineer stalked around him, watching for an opening, delivering her report as she shifted on the b.a.l.l.s of her feet, the lirpa sliding through her fingers. "Deep search through the...Defiance's engineering database...was fruitless," she panted. "Aside from the most cursory of mentions, Botany Bay...does not exist. The records talk only of such craft in a...conjectural sense. As if they were designed...but never actually constructed."

"The vessel drifting alongside us would seem to put the lie to that statement," he told her, and attacked, stabbing with the sword. Her parry was a poor one, and the blade edge nicked the azure skin of her arm, just below the shoulder. She didn't cry out; Bashir liked that about sh'Zenne. Even though she was just a subaltern helot, even though she was an engineer, the woman still fought like a warrior. The Andorians were a hard people, and in their way they had taught humanity much about the challenges of life in the galaxy at large. In the end, they had lost their war against the Khanate, of course, but they did not let it make them slaves, not in the way that the Vulcans or the Trill had. Andorians were hunting wolves; they were the raptors on Earth's glove. They had a place of special honor.

He liked sparring with the alien; she did not think like a human, and that made her difficult to predict. The sparring kept Bashir sharp, even if it did make him seem eccentric to the other officers in Quadrant Command. Defiance had more alien crew in senior roles than any other ship in the fleet. Some men told Bashir he would regret his generosity toward the nonhumans, but he ignored them. His jaw hardened and he pressed the attack. He felt a closer kinship to the blueskin than those Basics on the sleeper ship. Julian thought of Christopher's arrogance, his outright lies, and hit out hard in anger.

Rel went down and lost the Vulcan weapon, a moment of panic in her eyes. Bashir saw it and reeled himself back before he did sh'Zenne some real damage. "How is it that a human vessel can vanish completely from our records? Were those files lost in the war?"

The Andorian shook her head and swallowed hard. "No, Princeps, as far as I can determine. It is simply...not there. Quadrant Command's database has no information on any manned extrasolar s.p.a.ce launches from Earth in the year 2010, no mention of any starships called Botany Bay..." She got back to her feet.

"That is because it is a phantom," said a new voice.

Bashir turned to see O'Brien striding across the room, his regulation short sword sheathed at his waist. Like the princeps, the optio was dressed in a light sparring tunic and trousers. "If it is a mirage," snapped Julian, "then it is a very convincing one."

"Aye, lord, it is." O'Brien approached and sh'Zenne backed away, sensing that her presence was no longer required. Miles drew his sword and saluted his commander.

The princeps had been sparring for a few hours, and he would have been well within his remit to reject the casual challenge; but to do so would be seen as weakness, and he was not one to display that, not even for an instant. Julian mirrored the gesture before dropping into a ready stance. "Must I hear you speak of secret conspiracies again?" he asked. "That thread of conversation is drawing thin."

O'Brien attacked, hitting hard and fast. "You must, lord," he snapped, between sweeping slashes of his blade. "I would be worthless to you if I did not voice my suspicions."

Bashir blocked each blow easily. "You suspect everything."

"That is what makes me such a good tactical officer. 'All war is deception,' lord."

"Sun Tzu," said Bashir, recognizing the quote. Their swords met and the horns of the blade-guards locked for a long second. "You still think the sleeper ship is some sort of intricate honey-trap?"

"Why not?" O'Brien put his weight behind the weapon, trying to turn it free. "It is not-ugh-beyond possibility. The Bajorans doctor a rabble of non-Terrans to appear as Basics, leave this derelict for you to find. Your interest in the past and in...in unusual thinking is well known, sir. It is the perfect lure for you."

"Ha!" Bashir abruptly reversed his grip, robbing his opponent of his balance, and slammed into the optio with his pommel, punching him away. "Anyone who believes that proves only how little they know me!"

O'Brien shook off the strike and steadied himself. "If you say so, Princeps." He moved back toward him, raking the sword through the air. "Then at least, will you hear my advice and place the Basics under isolation? Leave the dormant ones as they are and hold those awake in the cells."

"They have done nothing wrong," Bashir countered. "They pose no threat to us."

All at once the optio dropped his guard and stepped back off the mat, abruptly ending the bout as if his commander's recalcitrance had tired him out. "Sir," he said with a sigh, "what do you think will happen here? These Basics, if they truly are our commonplace ancestors lost for centuries, they have no place in the Khanate. Do you think they will be granted citizen status because of some distant kinship to us, if they really are Earth-born? They are fragile little things, weak as any helot, inferior to us in every way. What can they ever be except a...a curiosity?"

"And we should cull them because of that, is that what you believe?"

O'Brien looked at his commander from hooded eyes. "Ultimately, what I believe matters nothing. You are princeps, and at this moment, their fate is in your hands." He sheathed his blade. "Unless, of course, you abrogated responsibility of the Botany Bay and turned charge of it over to Lord-Commander Sisko. Then the ship and its contents would be a millstone for his neck and not yours."

Julian thought about Jacob's words to him after the briefing and said nothing. O'Brien wasn't a fool; he saw that if Bashir had made up his mind to preserve Christopher and the other sleepers, then distancing himself from any potential blowback over their discovery was his only alternative. A cold thought crystallized in Bashir's mind. How many of my crew think the same way as Miles does? Am I diminishing myself in their eyes by doing this? He recalled Tiber's unguarded comments and his lips thinned.

Without warning, with his still-bared blade, the princeps struck out at the optio and O'Brien was caught off guard. Before the tactical officer could react, Julian had taken the short sword's keen edge right to the other man's throat. "A bout is only over when I say it is," he hissed, "just as my orders remain inviolate until I see fit to countermand them. Clear?"

O'Brien barely moved, a thin thread of blood forming where the blade rested against the flesh of his neck. "Clear, lord," he replied huskily.

Dax halted at the entrance to the security tier and waited for the last of the sensor inspections to come to a conclusion. Finally, the lights in the scanner tunnel went blue, and she stepped through into the brig's anteroom to find herself confronted by an imposing female trooper. Lean and tall, she had olive skin and a dark plait of hair coiled over her shoulder. Ezri didn't know the woman's name, but she recognized the Terran's bloodline archetype immediately; she was of Tiejun extraction. They were usually aggressive and taken to argumentative behavior.

Dax bowed slightly; not as deeply as she would to a line officer, but enough to show her obeisance to a pure-strain human. "I am here to conduct an interview with the prisoner, Kira Nerys." She offered the trooper a datapad bearing the authorization of the princeps.

"Why?" demanded the woman. "Tiber has already 'interviewed' her."

Ezri hid her distaste at the thought of what Squad Leader Tiber's tender mercies would have entailed for the Bajoran freedom fighter. "This is a noninvasive interrogation. I am here to confirm points of data from engineer sh'Zenne's study of their vessel."

The trooper grimaced and tossed the pad back to her, stalking away toward one of the force field-barricaded cells without waiting to see if Dax was following. Ezri glanced through the haze of yellow-orange energy shrouding the doorways that she pa.s.sed, spotting Carda.s.sians and Bajorans beyond them in various states of disarray. By turns they looked pitiable, angry, or broken.

"In here," said the Tiejun woman. She pressed her palm to a control pad, and the field over one cell guttered out. "Use your communicator when you want to leave."

Dax bowed again and entered Kira's cell; she was barely inside when the barrier sprang into place once again. The trooper walked away, throwing her an arch look as she returned to her post.

Inside the compartment, the atmosphere was heavy with sweat and desperation. The air had a flattened sensation to it, where a noise-deadening security sphere enclosed the cell. The soundproofing was adjustable, so that interrogators could conduct their work toward grisly extremes if required, without ever alerting the other prisoners; similarly, the sphere could be turned down to allow other inmates to hear the screams of pain, if it was thought that could soften the resolve of others. The Khanate's security staff often found it to be a very strong motivator.