Chapter Nine: Midnight Misgivings
It was late when Bashir stole back into the room, attempting to be quiet so as not to wake Sisko. But at the faint creak of the door, the commander raised his head. "Julian?"
Bashir sighed in defeat. "What are you doing awake?" he scolded mildly, pushing the door shut and crossing to set his bag on the stand and toss his coat over the back of the chair. "Does your back hurt?"
"Some," Sisko admitted. "I was listening for you."
And not, Bashir surmised ruefully from his commander's tone of voice, because he was hoping for another dose of laudanum. "Well, sir?" he asked resignedly.
"Should you really be treating patients, Julian?" Sisko asked seriously.
"There's no need to worry about the timeline, sir," Bashir assured him. "We didn't actually go back in time; we're trapped in the holoprogram."
"Miles is sure of that?"
"Reasonably sure, yes."
Sisko frowned. "Then if this is a holoprogram and the people aren't real…why even bother to practice?"
Bashir shrugged. "For something to do? As an excuse to visit various plantations looking for you? Because no matter how much I know the people aren't real, when I see them hurt the doctor in me can't realize that? Because even some holoprograms have approached sentience and the ability to feel pain? Because it's just possible that you and I aren't the only people trapped in here?"
"But — surely you could tell?" Sisko questioned, making a sudden motion of surprise at Bashir's last justification.
"How?" the doctor asked soberly. "If I hadn't been looking for you, I couldn't have told you from any other slave; you weren't certain of me at first — in fact, I'm still not sure you really are," he added with a quick grin before sobering once more. "It's not as if I have my tricorder with me — and if I did I'm not sure how much use it would be. Considering we're trapped in a computer program, it might not register our lifesigns, or conversely, the program might make it read even holograms as living people."
"All right, I'll give you your reasons for treating holograms," Sisko admitted. "But much as I trust Miles…how do you know for sure that wasn't a portal into the actual past?"
Bashir shook his head. "I've noticed some inconsistencies — minor, but enough to indicate this is just a holoworld. Unless history as we know it from the books is wrong, which I admit is possible and even likely after so many centuries. Regardless, I doubt anything I've done could damage the timeline. Aside from being a bit more concerned about cleanliness than most, I haven't given any treatments that weren't used by 1860s doctors, though some might admittedly be considered novel and not yet widely accepted." He smiled crookedly. "I'm not going to try to save Lincoln, if that's what you're worried about."
Sisko chuckled. "No, Julian; I'm sorry. I should know enough by now to trust you and Miles."
"I will admit, I'm glad this isn't real so I don't have to hold back from offering aid. But it's late; all due respect, sir, but we can talk about this in the morning. Right now you need another dose of laudanum so you can get some rest."
Sisko watched silently as Bashir mixed the dose. "Julian," he said, not drinking as the doctor offered him the medicine, "I can understand your treating patients to fill time and for all your other reasons. But how could you justify leaving a real patient to treat a hologram?" His voice was almost wistful; not that of a commander now but of a sick, injured man asking How could you leave me?
Bashir sighed, setting the glass on the stand and taking a seat beside the bed. "They were real enough to beat you," he reminded him quietly. "In this world, I can't be seen as putting the welfare of a slave over that of a white man, especially a wealthy one, for both our sakes. I wouldn't have left if you had truly needed me…but you needed me more where I was. Now drink this; sleep, and we'll talk in the morning."
Next chapter coming next week!
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