“The pattern of destruction seems to intensify as we descend,” Ekosha said, wonder and concern in her voice. “Are you certain anything could have survived this?”
“We have little more to proceed on than the word of Elim Garak, and our faith,” Macet said in a wry tone.
“I’m not at all certain whether to be wounded or flattered, Macet,” Garak responded. “But I must say I find your display of faith encouraging. There might be a place for you in the Oralian Way after all—if only you weren’t quite so ugly.”
Yevir heard Macet and Ekosha laugh, an incongruous sound filtering through their masks and the echoing darkness. Garak checked something on a wall panel, and a few meters below them several doors slid open. “We’re nearly there,” Garak said. “Drop down to the next level and I believe we will have arrived.”
Once all four of them had disengaged from their climbing ropes, they took stock of the room around them. There were numerous computer banks and monitors, all powered down but glowing with the dim light Yevir recognized as a still-functional emergency power source; evidently the radiation levels here were not so severe as up above. Three heavily armed Cardassian guards lay dead, their decomposing bodies scattered around the room, phaser burns visible precisely at the most efficient kill points.
As Garak powered up the computers, punching a number of buttons, it dawned on Yevir that DS9’s former tailor knew the system a little too well. He had clearly been here before. Had this been one of his previous postings, or had he been to this place more recently?
To their right, a few dim hallway lights came on, and a wall of interlaced metal bars shrank back into the walls. Down the hall, Yevir could see another dead guard near what was most likely the frame for a force-field barrier. It, too, was powered down. Finally, a giant metal door clanked partially open, spilling light from the chamber within.
“Ah. Here we are,” Garak said.
Yevir moved forward first, passing the inactive security devices, stepping over the dead guard, and stopped at the door. He found he had to yank hard on the massive portal. The door slowly swung wide and the brilliance beyond it washed over him like a mighty river. As his eyes slowly adjusted, he finally began to see what lay within the vast, brightly lit chamber.
His faith rewarded, Yevir was filled with a rapture more intense than any joy he had ever known…
19
Chief medical officer’s personal log, stardate 53580.5
Ezri tells me that all of us who were aboard the shuttle are about to go inside the big building we found floating out in space. Once we’re inside, we might be able to find a way to fix what’s wrong with me, and put Dax and Ezri back together.
I ask her whether this means Nog will go back to having to live with one leg. She won’t answer me. I tell her that I don’t see why Nog should have to lose his leg again, that it isn’t fair. Why can’t he stay home, on theDefiant, while Ezri and I go? I can feel my heart thumping fast, and I’m afraid.
Ezri’s trying to hide it, but I can tell that she’s afraid, too. And I want her not to be afraid so much that I pretend very hard that I’m not afraid.
Then I start thinking about Nog’s leg again. I can remember having to cut it off the first time, and the memory quickly makes me feel like crying.
I force myself not to cry because I don’t want her to be afraid. Because there’s nothing worse than being afraid.
Shar made a final check of the readings on his bridge science console, noting yet again that his calculations remained in agreement with those of Nog, Candlewood, T’rb, and the other science and engineering specialists. The complex motions of the icy Oort cloud objects now appeared to be a completely known quantity. The element of random chance had been reduced to as small a margin as possible—excluding, of course, the inevitable, minuscule quantum-level variances and measurement resolution errors that could always arise, causing one transporter relay’s signal to go awry, missing the next relay in the chain and thereby irrecoverably scattering the away team’s matter stream.
But he knew he could do nothing about any of those things. Such risks became irreducible at some level, beyond the ken of either brain or computer.
Shar rose and turned toward Vaughn, who sat in the captain’s chair, an anxious glint in his eye.
“Is everything ready, Mr. ch’Thane?”
Shar hesitated a beat before answering. “Aye, Captain. Chief Chao has confirmed that the first self-replicating transporter relay is already in place and operational on the first Oort cloud body.”
“You don’t sound very confident, Ensign.” Vaughn’s eyes narrowed.
“I’m sorry if I sound equivocal, sir. But as good as the numbers look, we are still operating on the very margins of what is possible. What we are about to attempt may work perfectly, or it may not. We still stand a good ten percent chance of losing everyone in the transporter beam. We have to face that.”
“Ten percent,” Vaughn said, frowning as he stroked his beard. “Versus the certainty of losing them if we don’t move ahead with Nog’s plan.”
Sitting behind the conn station, Tenmei displayed a look of anxiety that clearly mirrored Vaughn’s. Glancing at her chronometer, she said, “If we wait much longer, the cosmic rubber band will snap again and toss them into some other universe. Judging from the hourly increase in the quantum signature flux, it’ll probably be permanent the next time it happens.”
“Obviously,” Shar said through clenched teeth. He was growing weary of having the obvious pointed out to him—or perhaps he was simply growing weary. “But I would still feel more comfortable if we were to beam some inanimate objects in and out of the…cathedral.” He addressed his next words to Vaughn alone. “Beforewe attempt it on living people. Sir.”
“Couldn’t we use the first transporter relay to just replicate the entire series of relays needed to get the away team inside?” Tenmei asked. “That would be a good deal less risky than timing things so that the transporter relays materialize just ahead of the away team’s transporter beam.”
Vaughn looked thoughtful for a long moment, then shook his head. “If the Nyazen were to detect any use of the transporter too close to the cathedral, they’d most likely attack us right away. Then we’d never get a second opportunity to try to beam the away team in.” The commander’s gaze increased to an intensity that reminded Shar of his zhavey.“Give me your scientific appraisal, Ensign. In light of present circumstances, do the risks of proceeding appear acceptable to you?”
Shar knew well that the universe issued no guarantees, other than the eventual certainty of entropy and death. Nor did it care what became of starships, their clever engineers, or their intrepid crews.
Or the lives of three souls, now cast adrift.A trio of faces haunted him even now, weeping, glowering, raging. But these faces weren’t those of Nog, Bashir, or Ezri. They belonged to Dizhei and Anichent.
And Thriss.
“Well, Ensign?” Vaughn said, an edge of impatience in his voice. Shar noticed that every pair of eyes on the bridge was trained on him.
“I can see no alternative, sir,” Shar said. “We should proceed. With your permission, I’d like to assist Chief Chao and Lieutenant Bowers in transporter bay one.”
Nodding, Vaughn said, “Granted.”
As he entered the turbolift, Shar reflected on how little assistance he could actually offer at this point. The beam-out parameters were already set. The die had been cast. The operation would either save his friends or kill them. But at least he would have the opportunity first to bid them all farewell.