To Quark’s question about the reason for the gathering, Kira responded, “We’re celebrating my naming day.”
Quark tilted his head to one side, clearly annoyed. “If you don’t want to tell me, Colonel, that’s fine.”
“I don’t want to tell you.”
“That’s fine.”
“Good,” she said, standing up behind her desk. “Then I won’t keep you from getting ready for the gathering.”
“Of course,” Quark said, and he finally turned and left. As soon as the doors closed behind him, the voice of Ensign Ling emerged from the comm system.
“Ops to Colonel Kira,”she said.
“This is Kira. Go ahead.”
“The Alonis ship,Arieto, is on approach to the station,”Ling reported. “They should be docking within the hour.”
“Acknowledged,” Kira said. “Let me know when the ship arrives.”
“Aye, sir.”The channel closed with a short tone.
Kira, still standing, idly tapped her desktop with her fingertips. She wondered what Quark’s reaction would be when he found out about the summit. She knew that he had long professed an aversion to the Federation, and if Bajor actually joined—
Kira realized something she had not previously considered. If Bajor did join the Federation, with its essentially moneyless economy, then Quark’s business would be…well, no longer a business, as far as he would be concerned. Deep Space 9 would officially become a part of the Federation, and there simply would no longer be an environment here in which to earn profit. Quark would doubtless have to leave the station.
A smile decorated Kira’s face at the thought of that greedy troll being forced to relocate. At the same time, though, she remembered vividly what it had been like to be displaced from her own home, something that had occurred with regularity throughout her life. And Deep Space 9 was Quark’s home; she was fairly certain that he had been a resident of the station for longer than anybody else. And right now, he had no idea that his life might soon be thrown into turmoil.
The smile faded from Kira’s face. She sat slowly down in her chair, surprised at the genuine sympathy she suddenly felt for Quark.
45
“It’s too dangerous,” Julian said. He had paced around the ready room and now stood near a far corner, as though seeking refuge from what Ezri had been suggesting. His features had grown tense, and she could see him shifting from disagreement and resistance toward anger. She needed to defuse the situation, not only for Julian’s sake, but for her own; in order to implement her proposal, she would require his support.
“Well,” she said, shrugging, “we can’t let Sam do it.” She motioned toward Lieutenant Bowers, who sat across the desk from her. He looked at her with surprise, and she smiled. “Unless you want to, that is.”
Bowers held up his hand and shook his head. “No, thanks,” he said lightly, matching her tone.
“Look, this isn’t a joke,” Julian said, walking back over to the desk. He did not laugh or smile, but despite that, and despite his words, she could see that the anger welling within him had eased for the moment, replaced by frustration. “There just isn’t enough evidence to justify what you’re proposing,” he told her, holding her gaze, as though he could convince her of the fact of his position through sheer force of will.
“You keep saying that,” Ezri said, “but it’s not really the case. Whatever that object in the Jefferies tube is, I sensed a mind when I came into contact with it.”
“That can hardly be considered evidence,” Julian said dismissively.
“You’re wrong,” Ezri challenged him. “It isevidence. Whether you find it convincing or not is another matter.”
“Then let me state it plainly: I don’t find it convincing,” he said.
“You’ve made that clear, Doctor,” she told him, her own anger rising. She took a beat to rein in her emotions. She would not persuade Julian to support her plan by fighting him. “There’s also the simple fact of the object’s appearance on the ship. It penetrated the hull and traveledto the Jefferies tube.” She glanced over at the computer interface on the desk. A view of the Jefferies tube showed on the display, the mysterious dark gray mass still lying along the bulkhead and down on the grating. The object had not moved since yesterday, since they had attempted to transport it. Ensign Gordimer had established a containment field about the location, although because of the object’s multidimensional nature, they could not be certain that such a measure would restrict its movement.
“We don’t know for a fact that it entered the ship through the breach,” Julian argued. “It might have emerged from subspace exactly where it is.”
“Even so, that would seem to imply some sort of movement,” Bowers observed, obviously seeing Ezri’s point. “And we also know that it moved within the Jefferies tube.”
“Movement isn’t proof of life,” Julian said, turning and walking across the room again. “Stars move, planets move, oceans move, but they’re not alive.”
“That’s not quite the same thing,” Ezri said after Julian had turned back toward her. “And no, the object’s movement isn’t proof that it’s alive, but it does suggest the possibility.”
“A ‘possibility’ isn’t enough to justify the risk you want to take,” Julian maintained.
“I think it’s more than a possibility that this thing is alive; I think it’s a probability,” she said. “More than that. I believe it isalive. I sensed a mental contact with it.”
“You were in a coma,” Julian implored her. “You might have dreamed that.”
“Yes,” Ezri said immediately, which seemed to surprise him. “You’re right. I might have dreamed it. But I didn’t dream the drop in my isoboramine levels.” Ezri had already voiced her opinion that the change in her body chemistry indicated that a connection had been made between Dax and the object.
“Your body and the body of the symbiont have a physical link, facilitated by the isoboramine,” Julian said, walking back toward the desk. “Even though you touched the object, no physical link was made between it and the symbiont.”
“Maybe a connection was made through subspace,” Bowers suggested.
“Maybe,” Dax agreed, looking over at the lieutenant. “But back in the pools on Trill, Dax communicated with other symbionts not by physical contact, but by energy surges. And there’s certainly plenty of energy around here these days.” She peered up at Julian. “You even said yourself that the object and the energy in the clouds and in the pulse might be related.”
“I did,” Julian admitted, “but that was only speculation. All of this is only speculation.”
“I think it’s more than that,” Ezri said. “And if I’m right about the object being alive, and about Dax being in mental contact with it, then I might also be right about it having knowledge of the pulse.” She took a breath and raised her hands up onto the desk, putting them there palms down. “Julian, Sam,” she said. “I’m not sure that what I want to do will work. Maybe the object isn’t alive, or maybe Dax won’t be able to communicate with it, or maybe we won’t learn anything that will help us stop the pulse. But I am sure—we’re all sure—that if another pulse launches into space, the Vahni civilization will be destroyed.”
“I know what’s at stake,” Julian said quietly. “But you can’t quantify life. You can’t say that risking one to save another, or even another four billion, is justified.”