In repose, and with its tentacles retracted, Cethente seemed quite the inanimate object. But to Dakal, the doctor looked so much like the lamp in his grandmother’s dwelling—and which had so consistently unnerved him as a child—that after first being introduced to it, Dakal briefly suspected the Federation of having sent a Syrath operative to spy on his grandmother.
Norellis took a sip of his bubbly drink—some form of synthale, Dakal suspected—and turned to the Bajoran who sat quietly at the head of the table, directly opposite Dakal. “You’ve been conspicuously silent on this subject, Commander.”
Without looking up from his salad, Jaza smiled and said, “I’m still collecting data.”
“Surely you have some opinion,” the ensign said.
Unhurriedly, Jaza set down his fork, took a sip from his glass of water, and looked thoughtfully at Norellis. “Someone once observed that ‘Worlds turn by politics as surely as they do by gravity.’ ”
Dakal’s chopsticks, holding a makiroll of dark red Ahi, stopped halfway to his mouth. He could feel his neck ridges flushing. The Bajoran wasn’t looking at him, but Dakal refused to believe his choice of words had been accidental.
Norellis’s brow furrowed as he tried to place the quote. “Who said that?”
Jaza had already recovered his fork and returned his attention to his salad. “Cadet?”
Suddenly all eyes were on Dakal. He swallowed hard, unsure how to proceed, and angry that Jaza had put him on the spot in this manner. Finally, he admitted, “It was written by Iloja of Prim, a Cardassian poet, over two hundred years ago.”
The revelation seemed neither to impress nor to incense anyone at the table. So far, so good.
“So what does it mean?” Pazlar asked Jaza. But when it became clear that the lieutenant commander would not be diverted from his salad again, the group’s attention refocused on Dakal.
“Ah,” he began. “Well, Iloja believed that the evolution of the sentient mind was merely a way for the universe to know itself, and that therefore no understanding of the universe can be complete without understanding sentient behavior.”
Norellis snorted. “That’s not science, it’s philosophy.”
Dakal was ready to launch into an elaboration of his point, but hesitated. His eyes darted briefly at Jaza, hoping for a clue as to what the senior officer expected of him. But the commander gave no sign that he was even listening.
And yet it would be a mistake to think that he is not. I’m being tested. Very well, then. I’ll rise to this challenge as I have every other.
“Iloja is best remembered as a serialist poet, but before his exile he was an eminent astronomer and natural philosopher,” Dakal explained. “As such, he understood that one’s vantage point affects one’s understanding of the observable universe. A different point of view may lead to a different understanding—or a deeper one, when taken in conjunction with one’s original observations.”
“Where does the quote about politics and gravity come in?” Norellis asked.
“In understanding first that Iloja was speaking as a Cardassian expatriate, having come from a world where politics was as fundamental a force as any found in nature. And second, in considering the possibility that his observation may not have been exclusive to his particular circumstances, but might have been applicable universally.”
“I’m not sure I see what any of this has to do with Titangoing to Romulus when we should be exploring.”
“But we areexploring,” Dakal said.
Norellis just stared at him blankly.
“Look at it another way,” the cadet continued. “Your fields of expertise are astrobiology, the comparative study of life and its origins everywhere in the universe, and gaiaplanetology, the study of planetary biospheres and ecosystems. Correct?”
Norellis smiled patiently. “A little oversimplified, Cadet, but I’m willing to accept those definitions for the purpose of our discussion.”
“Thank you,” Dakal said. “Can we also agree that the study of biospheres relates specifically to what may be described as the living zones within or surrounding a planet?”
“I suppose that’s close enough. So?”
“So isn’t the realm of politics merely another zone that has evolved to enclose a living world?” Dakal asked. “A ‘politicosphere,’ if you will. And Titanis about to begin the process of exploring that zone. And perhaps even experimenting on it.”
“Oh, I like this kid, Najem,” Pazlar said to Jaza, a smile spreading across her face as she turned back to Dakal. “I think Iloja wasn’t the only natural philosopher to come out of Cardassia. Tell me again, Cadet, why you’re training to be an operations specialist?”
Dakal shrugged his wide shoulders. “It seems to be where my strengths are, Lieutenant.”
“Then think again,” Eviku said. “Stick around long enough, Cadet, and we’ll make a scientist of you yet.”
Dakal smiled. “I’ll accept that as a compliment, sir. I do have a great respect for science, and I admire the enthusiasm of its practitioners. I’ve just never had much patience for the fine details.”
Norellis rolled his eyes. “Which is why you’re a far better candidate than I am to push buttons up on the bridge.”
Nodding, Dakal said, “With respect, sir, I preferthat you science specialists leave the driving to others.”
“Really,” Pazlar said dryly, at which point Dakal realized his misstep: In addition to her credentials in stellar cartography, the Elaysian was also one of Titan’s better shuttle pilots.
“Only so you specialists can concentrate on the reallyhard work,” Dakal added quickly.
“Excellent save, Cadet,”Dr. Cethente said. “You ought to make admiral in no time.”
“If Bralik were here, I’m sure she’d have a few choice thoughts on the subject,” Eviku said.
Pazlar chuckled appreciatively. “Bralik seems to have choice thoughts on everysubject.”
“Where isDoctor Bralik?” Dakal asked as he finished the last of his sushi. “I had thought she would be joining us.”
Kent nodded past Dakal. “A few tables behind you, slumming with the yellowshirts.”
“I heard that!” came the sound of Bralik’s voice from across the mess hall, which prompted laughter from around the Blue Table. Ah, of course: Ferengi ears,Dakal noted. I must remember that.
“I have to admit,” Pazlar said after the laughter had subsided, “I never would have thought of politics as a field of scientific inquiry. I never thought much about it before.”
“Then it should be ripe for exploration,”Cethente chimed, unexpectedly taking up Dakal’s argument. The Syrath was not eating—at least, not in any obvious way; Dakal suddenly realized he hadn’t the faintest idea how Cethente took its nourishment.
“As interesting as all this is,” Norellis said, “I’m still skeptical that what we’re doing on Romulus can have any relevance to our mission into the frontier, assuming we ever get there.”
“Everything is connected, Kent,” Jaza said, speaking up again at last. “Even when you think it isn’t. Sometimes it’s obvious, sometimes it’s subtle, and sometimes it’s paradoxical. It may take generations to see those connections, and longer still to understand them. Or those things may simply come all at once in a flash of insight. You just never know. So don’t make the mistake of pursuing knowledge arrogantly. Keep an open mind.”
“Always good advice, Commander,” Norellis said with a nod, and drained his glass. Then he added with a grin, “But I’ll still take a subspace singularity over a Romulan political confab any day of the week.” He excused himself from the group, moving to join the table where Bralik was dining with Chief Engineer Ledrah and several members of the security department. Shortly thereafter, Pazlar, Eviku, and Cethente said their goodnights and left the Blue Table as well, leaving only Dakal and Jaza. Dakal decided this was the ideal opportunity to confront his superior head-on about his reference to Iloja.