Bashir reached up to the cortical stimulator and touched a control. At once, the blinking of the green and red lights sped up. He looked to the diagnostic panel again, but after a few seconds, only a marginal increase marked Ezri’s neural activity. Bashir shook his head, a calmness settling over him as he considered the next steps he would have to take. He reached for the hypos and other medical equipment on the shelf by the bed. He had prepared for this contingency. Now he could only take the actions he had planned, and hope that they would be enough to save Ezri.
50
Charivretha sat at the dining table with Thirishar’s bondmates, a tall glass of Andorian ale in her hand. She had arrived just as Thriss, Anichent, and Dizhei had been starting dinner. At Dizhei’s invitation, Charivretha sat down at the table with them, although she would not join them in their meal; in just a few minutes, she would be leaving for the ambassadorial reception.
It had been an arduous, tiring day, spent in meticulous preparation for the summit tomorrow. Charivretha did well with details, able to master massive amounts of facts, allowing herself to recall them effortlessly as needed; she could sometimes even cull unexpected and valuable conclusions from previously unvisited juxtapositions of information. But for all of that, she cared less for the preliminaries and more for the actual job. She enjoyed politics, not paperwork.
Throughout the long day today, Charivretha had looked forward to a glass of ale. She could not abide replicated versions of the drink, but Anichent had discovered that the barkeeper on the station possessed a couple of bottles in his stock. She had asked Anichent to purchase them, as good an excuse as any to visit Thirishar’s bondmates this evening. Thirishar had offered the three of them the use of his quarters just before departing on his mission, and they had all moved in here that same day. Charivretha tried to spend as much time as possible here with them, but her responsibilities sometimes interfered, as had been the case during the past few days.
Now, she smoothed the white, thickly textured fabric of the formal dress she wore, and then raised her glass in salute. Anichent sat across from her at the table, the tall, hardy figure putting her in mind of Zherathrizar, one of her own bondmates. Dizhei, already old for her years, but very sweet, sat to her right, and Thriss, usually so lively, but quiet right now, sat to her left.
“To family,” Charivretha said as she lifted her glass. Only Anichent and Dizhei followed her lead—Anichent had ale; Dizhei’s glass contained water—and matched her toast. Thriss continued eating her meal, not looking up. Charivretha chose to let the discourtesy pass. She sipped at her drink, the fiery liquid tumbling down her gullet like warm gravel, heating and rasping her throat, and leaving behind a delicious warmth and fullness.
Anichent smacked his lips and delivered a husky sigh after taking a healthy gulp of the ale. He really did resemble Zherathrizar in many ways, Charivretha thought, from some of his mannerisms to his mode of dress; the brown leather vest he wore over a pale green tunic and brown pants gave him the air of an outdoorsman, though she knew his aspirations actually leaned toward politics. “I thought I was overcharged for the ale,” he said in a voice made deeper by the Andorian drink, “but now I’d have to say it was worth it.”
“And I’d have to agree,” Charivretha said in a bass whisper. She cleared her throat, and then looked over to Dizhei. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like some?” she asked the prim schoolteacher.
“Thank you,” Dizhei said, “but I don’t want to change the sound of my voice.” She smiled, a clear signal that she understood and accepted the good-natured teasing.
“So, what have you been doing during the past few days?” Charivretha asked. She looked from Dizhei to Anichent to Thriss, including all of them in her question, although again, Thriss did not look up from her dinner.
“Actually, we’ve begun touring the station,” Anichent said around bites of his meal. “This is a very interesting place.”
“Really?” Charivretha said. She did not care much for Deep Space 9 herself, finding it a sterile and unwelcoming environment. The unfriendly Cardassian architecture certainly contributed to that feeling, and the Bajoran climate bothered her even more. Here, in Thirishar’s quarters, the temperature and humidity had been elevated to sufficiently high levels, but in the public areas of the station the coldness and aridity made her constantly uncomfortable.
“We wanted to acquaint ourselves with Shar’s new life,” Dizhei explained.
“That’s a lovely sentiment,” Charivretha said. She admired the forgiveness Thirishar’s bondmates managed for him, despite his continually selfish behavior. She loved her chei,but he embarrassed her at times, even shamed her, by the self-centered way in which he had chosen to live his life.
With her thoughts, a seed of anger began to form deep within her. As she felt it grow, she very deliberately put her glass of ale down on the table. As an ambassador, she always searched for ways in which she could effectively hide and then restrain her emotions, and she found that concentrating on specific movements could serve that purpose.
“Today, we went to the operations center,” Anichent said. “We contacted Lieutenant Ro, and she got authorization for us from the station commander.”
“A young Bajoran man escorted us around while we were there,” Dizhei said. “He was kind enough to show us where Shar works. It was very exciting.”
“I’m glad that you’re enjoying your time here,” Charivretha said. Then, as casually as she could, she asked, “Did all three of you visit the operations center?”
Dizhei cast her eyes downward, immediately conveying an answer to Charivretha.
“No,” Anichent said, keeping his tone light. “It was just Dizhei and me.”
“I see,” Charivretha said. She reached forward and picked up her glass, again allowing the small physical action to cover and redirect her rising emotion. It concerned her that Thriss had not accompanied her bondmates on their tour, particularly considering the young woman’s dour mood this evening. Of course, Thriss’s emotions had always run at speed, and sometimes out of control—it remained a wonder to Charivretha that Thriss had managed to complete her studies and become a physician—and so perhaps today represented an isolated incident. “So where else have you been on the station?” she asked.
“Well, we’ve certainly spent plenty of time on the Promenade,” Anichent said, and then added, rather melodramatically, “shopping.” He raised his eyebrows and sent a sidelong glance at Dizhei.
“Oh, I haven’t been that bad,” Dizhei protested. The two began to bicker playfully, obviously a comfortable scene the pair had acted out on many other occasions. Charivretha liked these people, and she felt gratified that Thirishar had been so fortunate with the bondmates who had been selected for him. During the confrontation she had engineered before he had departed on his mission, Charivretha had wondered whether she had made a wise choice in bringing all three of them to the space station. She had initially considered sending only for Anichent, with whom Thirishar had formed his first romantic bond; ch’Thane knew that her cheifound stability and peace in that relationship, but she had also realized that any chance of convincing Thirishar to return to Andor would require something other than a promise of constancy. And in the end, it had been the emotionalism and volatility of Thriss that had finally compelled his agreement to come back home.
Anichent and Dizhei had moved past their lighthearted raillery about shopping and returned to the subject of where they had been on the station during the last few days. Anichent mentioned the mid-core science, engineering, and administrative facilities, the runabout bays, and the docking pylons. Charivretha took another drink of her ale—a gulp this time, and not just a sip—and set her glass back down. “Thriss,” she said, attempting to remain conversational, although her voice had been roughened by the ale. “How have you enjoyed these places?”