Terok Nor_ Day Of The Vipers Part 22

15.

The rain across the roof of the enclave blockhouse was a constant rattle now, a sound like handfuls of gravel being thrown against the thermoconcrete construction. Outside, the pavilions snapped and cracked as they flexed on their supports, the cables holding them in place humming with vibration. Bajor's sky was dark and heavy with menace, the night gloom mirroring Bennek's soured mood. Aside from the sporadic flashes of lightning, the only illumination cast over the cleric's room was the sullen glow of the communications screen.

The connection was thick with static; it was coming to Bajor on a side channel outside the normal frequencies open to Carda.s.sian civilians. There was an illegal circuit concealed in the back of the communicator that, if it were discovered, would have meant instant arrest for the cleric. The fact that Hadlo was using it now to contact him filled Bennek with dread.

A flicker of lightning cast quick bars of white light through the room behind him, and on the screen Hadlo's pale face reacted. "Bennek! By the Fates, are they already there? Are they firing? I can't hear any shots-" "Bennek! By the Fates, are they already there? Are they firing? I can't hear any shots-"

"It's just a storm," said the priest.

Hadlo nodded rapidly. "Oh, indeed, my friend, the storm is breaking upon us. This is the moment of our greatest testing, Bennek! The hammer falling...The clouds of ashes and the serpents rising...Do you see it as clearly?" "Oh, indeed, my friend, the storm is breaking upon us. This is the moment of our greatest testing, Bennek! The hammer falling...The clouds of ashes and the serpents rising...Do you see it as clearly?"

"What do you want?" Bennek almost shouted at his old mentor, afraid and angry all at once. Over and over he was forced to endure the priest's directionless, unfathomable ramblings, and each time he spoke with the elderly man it seemed worse. Hadlo had never been the same since that day at the Kendra Shrine, and as much as Bennek was loath to give voice to it, he was deathly afraid that the priest had lost all sense of reason.

His sharp words seemed to make some impact on Hadlo, and the old man stiffened, regaining his poise for a brief moment. "This is the time. This is the moment I warned you of when we spoke in the library of the Naghai Keep. The purge has begun. All our churches are burning, Bennek. Burning." "This is the time. This is the moment I warned you of when we spoke in the library of the Naghai Keep. The purge has begun. All our churches are burning, Bennek. Burning."

"Purge?" The word almost choked him.

Hadlo nodded, the image jerking and fracturing. "Kell's promises to us have been finally broken, open to the world. The military are rounding up everyone who follows the Way. Shattering the masks and setting the scrolls to the torch." "Kell's promises to us have been finally broken, open to the world. The military are rounding up everyone who follows the Way. Shattering the masks and setting the scrolls to the torch."

"No!" Bennek gasped. He glanced at the leather bag on a nearby shelf that contained his copy of the Recitations and his recital mask, suddenly needing to rea.s.sure himself they were still there.

"Listen to me, boy!" said the cleric, his eyes wide. said the cleric, his eyes wide. "I have gathered as many of the faithful as I can, and we are fleeing the homeworld." "I have gathered as many of the faithful as I can, and we are fleeing the homeworld."

"You...you're on a starship?"

"Yes." Interference turned his words into a buzzing rattle. Interference turned his words into a buzzing rattle. "I cannot say much more. They are searching for us, and they may track this signal. It is scrambled, but I do not know how long that will remain secure. Listen!" "I cannot say much more. They are searching for us, and they may track this signal. It is scrambled, but I do not know how long that will remain secure. Listen!" His face came forward, filling the screen, and his voice dropped to a whisper. His face came forward, filling the screen, and his voice dropped to a whisper. "We make for the s.p.a.ce beyond Quinor, where the plasma storms will keep us hidden." "We make for the s.p.a.ce beyond Quinor, where the plasma storms will keep us hidden."

"The Badlands," said Bennek. He had heard the Bajorans use the name for the area; it was a dangerous place to seek sanctuary, rife with furious plasmatic clouds. Many ships had been lost there, so the stories went, some swept away leaving nothing behind, not even wreckage.

Hadlo was nodding. "In time we will be reunited, but for the moment you must stay in sanctuary on Bajor. Oralius will keep you safe there." "In time we will be reunited, but for the moment you must stay in sanctuary on Bajor. Oralius will keep you safe there."

"No," Bennek replied. "Master, it is not not safe here! We are isolated and unprotected, and the enclaves are no longer places of shelter for us. We must come together and-" safe here! We are isolated and unprotected, and the enclaves are no longer places of shelter for us. We must come together and-"

"No!" Hadlo shouted, the feedback from his sudden outburst crackling over the static-filled transmission. Hadlo shouted, the feedback from his sudden outburst crackling over the static-filled transmission. "I forbid it! In Oralius's name, you shall not leave that place! Sanctuary, Bennek, sanctuary! You will ensure the Way remains, I have foreseen it in my vision...That is your path, boy! You will do it! You will do it!" "I forbid it! In Oralius's name, you shall not leave that place! Sanctuary, Bennek, sanctuary! You will ensure the Way remains, I have foreseen it in my vision...That is your path, boy! You will do it! You will do it!" Without warning the image vanished, becoming a seething wash of gray static. Without warning the image vanished, becoming a seething wash of gray static.

Benneck snapped off the console and crossed the room, every footfall leaden and heavy. "I can't do this," he said to the air. "I...I am not strong enough to do this!" He savagely grabbed the leather bag and ripped the recital mask from it, gripping it in his fingers. "What do you want from me?" he demanded of the wooden face. "Have you forsaken us? Have you?" The cleric let the mask clatter across the table and he sat heavily. His eyes fell across a bottle of kanar kanar that was discreetly hidden in the lee of a support brace, and he reached for it. The bottle was a quarter empty; it had already served him as a panacea in moments when his weakness had overcome him. The cleric twisted off the cap and filled a gla.s.s, draining it and letting the mellow fire of the liqueur race through him, steadying his nerves. that was discreetly hidden in the lee of a support brace, and he reached for it. The bottle was a quarter empty; it had already served him as a panacea in moments when his weakness had overcome him. The cleric twisted off the cap and filled a gla.s.s, draining it and letting the mellow fire of the liqueur race through him, steadying his nerves.

There was a knock at his door, and Bennek's hand cracked the gla.s.s with a jerk of fright. "They've come," he whispered to the discarded mask. "Come with guns to kill us all." He swallowed another measure as the knocking became more strident. "It's open," he said loudly. "Enter and do as you will."

But the figure that came in from the storm was not a soldier with a phaser rifle. "Bennek," said Tima, shrugging off a rain-soaked cloak. "I didn't know who else to turn to..."

In spite of his own concerns, the emotion in the woman's voice made him push everything else to one side. "What's wrong?"

"It's Ranjen Gar. He's lost...He was in a flyer with Pasir and they never arrived at their destination." She blinked back tears. "Oh, Bennek, I think something terrible could have happened to them."

"Pasir? No, I can't lose him as well..." It was too much for him. Suddenly, as if a wave of despair had dragged him under, the Oralian cradled his head in his hands. "Tima...Tima, everything is disintegrating around us. I've been forsaken..."

She came to him, putting her arm around his shoulders. "Bennek, no." The Bajoran woman took a shuddering breath. "You must tell me what troubles you."

"But your friend-"

Tima held him, and he found himself wanting only to do the same to her. "His friends are helping him. Let me...Let me help you."

With a trembling voice, every fear and every hope poured out of Bennek as the storm battered the walls around them.

The rain lashed across the blackened disks of the flyer pads in hard, windblown waves that made the Watch officers curse and pull their jackets and caps down tight. Darrah glared at the cloud-wreathed sky, daring it to do its worst. And it will, And it will, he thought to himself. he thought to himself. This is only the leading edge of the storm cell. There's more to come. This is only the leading edge of the storm cell. There's more to come.

He faced his men. "You've all got the pattern, you all know your a.s.signed sectors. Coordinate through Constable Proka and Myda back at the precinct. The instant you find anything, you radio it in. Clear?" There was a chorus of a.s.sent, and he threw a sharp gesture at the parked flyers. "Then get going. But no heroics. I don't want to lose anyone else out there."

As the crews ran to their craft, Proka tugged on Darrah's arm. "Boss? Got a problem. We're a man short. You need a copilot and we haven't got one."

Darrah grimaced, making for his flyer. "I don't give a d.a.m.n about regulations," he shot back. "I'll search my pattern on my own."

"Can't let you, boss," Proka insisted. "It's filthy sky up there. You take a lightning strike or something-" He snorted. "No heroics, that's what you just said."

"I'm going," growled the inspector, "and that's an end to it."

Proka nodded. "Thought you'd see it that way. So I got you a civvie volunteer instead."

Darrah threw open the gull-wing hatch of the flyer and his gaze fell on the Carda.s.sian sitting in the copilot's chair.

"Inspector," said Pa'Dar. "I was stranded at the port when the weather grounded my shuttle to Dahkur. I overheard the constable, and-"

Darrah looked at Proka. "That's a very creative solution, Mig."

The Watch officer stared back at him. "Needs must. He's a scientist, isn't he? He'll know how to handle the scanners."

Darrah waved the other man off and climbed inside the flyer, dropping smartly into the pilot's couch.

Pa'Dar cleared his throat. "I realize it might be unusual for you to work directly with a Carda.s.sian," he began.

"Why are you doing this?" Darrah cut him off. "The missing Carda.s.sian, Pasir. He's an Oralian and you're not. I get the impression that most of your people wouldn't miss one of them lost in a storm." Applying power to the thrusters, Darrah guided the flyer shakily into the turbulent sky.

After a long moment, the alien replied. "There are times when things are not as they seem, Inspector. I would think that as an officer of the law, you would be aware of that."

"I suppose so," Darrah admitted. "You know what? Right now, I really don't care. I just want to find my friend, so work those sensors and help me do that." He steered the flyer on a westerly course, and the ungainly police craft shot into the storm.

It was hard to reckon the pa.s.sage of time in the flyer's enclosed c.o.c.kpit. Pa'Dar's flight became a single round of chaotic rises and falls as the Bajoran forced the complaining ship through churning air. Outside he could see nothing but the sluice of hard rain streaking the canopy, and every few minutes there was a brilliant glare of blue-white as lightning surged. Pa'Dar glimpsed what could have been towering anvils of cloud or possibly mountain canyons; the image burned a purple blur into his retinas.

Hours. If felt like they had been up there for hours, and his eyes were becoming tired from staring at the relentless sweep of the blank bio-scanner screen. When he glanced over at Darrah, he saw the man's fixed expression of concentration, watching him fight the flyer's controls every second of the flight. The inspector gripped the steering yoke with a dogged resolve that was almost Carda.s.sian in nature. The man is driven, The man is driven, Pa'Dar told himself; and on the heels of that came the question that had been plaguing him since the moment he had volunteered. Pa'Dar told himself; and on the heels of that came the question that had been plaguing him since the moment he had volunteered. What drives me? What drives me?

At first it had been difficult to frame an answer. Kotan Pa'Dar was a rational thinker, a scientist with a reductionist mind-set. He was used to problems where the parameters were clearly deduced, where he could apply his knowledge and come to an empirical conclusion; but what was happening around him on Bajor did not lend itself to the same process.

There are connections. He was certain of it. Part of Pa'Dar knew that to be Carda.s.sian was to live in a world where there were always machinations beneath the surface, but he was so close to this, so enmeshed in it that his inquisitive mind could not easily let it go. Rhan Ico's shadowy behavior. The bombing of the He was certain of it. Part of Pa'Dar knew that to be Carda.s.sian was to live in a world where there were always machinations beneath the surface, but he was so close to this, so enmeshed in it that his inquisitive mind could not easily let it go. Rhan Ico's shadowy behavior. The bombing of the Lhemor. Lhemor. The wall of silence thrown up around the aftermath of the incident at Cemba Station. Skrain Dukat's manner, the chasm that had opened up in their friendship. All these elements preyed on Pa'Dar's mind, wheeling and turning like the pieces in a child's logic puzzle, never quite fitting into place. The wall of silence thrown up around the aftermath of the incident at Cemba Station. Skrain Dukat's manner, the chasm that had opened up in their friendship. All these elements preyed on Pa'Dar's mind, wheeling and turning like the pieces in a child's logic puzzle, never quite fitting into place.

And now this: two priests, one Carda.s.sian, one Bajoran, lost in the tempest. Another fragment to be woven into the whole? Another fragment to be woven into the whole? He wondered what the puzzle would look like when- He wondered what the puzzle would look like when-if-it was complete. Was it even something that he wanted to know? Was it better for him to step away and remain ignorant of it all?

A stutter of contact on the sensor panel illuminated for a brief moment, then vanished. Pa'Dar peered at the display, frowning. "Inspector?" he ventured. "There's a lake..." He pointed. "In that direction."

"Yeah." Fatigue underlined the pilot's voice. "It's on the edge of the search pattern."

"Can you circle over it?"

Darrah did as he asked, turning the flyer. "You have something?"

The contact returned. "I do," he replied, the lines on his face deepening. "Metal fragments. A single life sign. But the signal is confused. I can't get a clear reading."

"Which one of them is it?" demanded the Bajoran. "Gar or Pasir?"

"I don't know."

Darrah programmed a quick and dirty macro into the police flyer's autopilot and jumped from his chair as the aircraft fell into a wallowing hover over the storm-tossed surface of the water. Darrah knew where they were; the lake was a deep one, a natural formation that fed the Yolja River. He'd gone fishing there in his youth, and he still remembered the stories about it. If Gar's craft had gone down here, it was beyond recovery. The sheer size of the inland sea and the kelbonite in the local rock would mean that tracking the flyer would be next to impossible. It was probably dumb luck that the Carda.s.sian had managed to pick up a reading.

The hatch opened and a fist of wind punched Darrah back into the compartment. He pushed back, securing a rescue vest and descent tether around him. On the hull of the flyer a spotlight snapped on, turning to aim where the sensors told it the life sign was. Mace glimpsed a shape, the arch of a back covered in robes, facedown in the lake.

"Inspector?" said Pa'Dar.

Without a transporter on board, they were going to have to do this the hard way. "Get a medkit ready!" Darrah didn't bother to explain himself. He took a breath of damp air and dropped feetfirst from the open hatch, the tether singing out behind him.

He struck the lake, and a heavy darkness enveloped him. The shock of the icy water threatened to press the air from his lungs, but he resisted, pushing hard back toward the surface and the halo of white light.

Heavy wrappings of cloth swaddled the floating body, water soaking them, making it difficult to handle. Darrah spat out a mouthful of fluid and looped his tether over the drifting shape, pulling hard to bind them together. His hand found the control unit on the rescue vest and he slapped it hard. With a jerk, the duranium-carbide cable pulled taut and the two men were dragged out of the lake, reeled in to the waiting hatch.

Pa'Dar was there, gray hands grabbing at Darrah's shoulders, pulling him inside. In turn, Darrah held firmly on to his charge, dragging the waterlogged form onto the deck of the police flyer. "Medkit!" he shouted.

He tore at the robes, yanking them back to get at the man inside the folds of the priest's vestments. A face was revealed, heavy with scratches and contusions.

"Osen!" Darrah grabbed the Bajoran's head. "Can you hear me?"

Pa'Dar handed him a stimulant hypospray, and Darrah shot the contents into cleric's neck. Gar coughed hard and spat out a stream of blood-laced liquid.

"Where's Pasir?" Darrah shouted over the rumble of the wind through the open hatch. "Where's the Carda.s.sian?"

Gar coughed again and shook his head. "Nuh." He tried to speak. "Dead. Dead!" Dead!" His eyes widened with shock as a flash of lightning illuminated the interior of the flyer and he saw Pa'Dar looming over him. "No! No! Get away!" His eyes widened with shock as a flash of lightning illuminated the interior of the flyer and he saw Pa'Dar looming over him. "No! No! Get away!"

"Osen!" Darrah grabbed him. "It's okay. He's here to help."

Gar pushed himself back to the bulkhead. "No," he said weakly.

Darrah turned to the Carda.s.sian. "Any trace of other life signs?"

Pa'Dar shook his head grimly. "Not at all. If Pasir was down there, then he perished."

Darrah sighed. "All right. Mark this location and then get us up above the storm. You can do that?"

He got a nod in return. "Of course."

The Carda.s.sian went to the front of the compartment, leaving the two Bajorans alone. Sealing the hatch, Darrah paused to s.n.a.t.c.h a tricorder from the medkit case and swept the sensor over his friend.

Gar was breathing heavily. "Darrah...Darrah Mace." His voice was thick with pain and effort, husky and rough. "It's you."

"It's me," he replied. "No broken bones. No organ damage. I think. I'm not an expert with these things."

Gar pushed the tricorder away, leaning closer. "I'm fine. But..." He shot a terrified look at the Carda.s.sian. "Don't let him near me."

"He helped to rescue you, Gar."

"They tried to murder me!" spat the priest. "Pasir! He was insane! He said that it was an abomination..."

"What do you mean?"

"The...alliance between Carda.s.sia and Bajor. Between our two faiths. He swore that Oralius was not going to be polluted by corrupt Bajoran dogma."

"He was some sort of fundamentalist?"

"He was a murderer! He pulled a weapon on me." Gar's hands reached out, and his fingers clutched at Darrah's sleeve. "May the Prophets forgive me...There was a struggle and the flyer went down in the lake. I had to...I had to..."

A chill washed through Darrah's bones as he read the truth in the other man's eyes. "You killed him."

"I had to!" husked the priest. "I had no choice!"

"All right," Darrah said, after a moment. "We'll get you back to the hospital in Korto."

"No." Gar's grip tightened. "There are Carda.s.sians in the city. I can't be safe there! Kendra!" He straightened. "Please, Mace. Take me to the monastery at Kendra."

Darrah's disquiet chilled him more than the lingering cold from the lake; in all the years they had known one another, he had never seen such an expression of naked terror on his friend's face. "All right. When you're healed, we'll talk more about this. Until then, you mention nothing about what happened. Pasir died in the crash. That's what we'll say."

Gar seemed to shrink in on himself, his fingers moving up to probe at the flesh of his face. "Yes. Thank you. You're a good friend."

Darrah stepped up to the control console. "Change of plan," he told the Carda.s.sian. "We're going to Kendra."