JMJ
Chapter Three
…But Latinum is made of Stars
"…So if you're going to check, you might as well double check. Everything must match up," said Gleb calmly to Maeeshpela.
She stood on tiptoe beside him where he sat in a semicircle desk with his work in front of him.
"One mistake like this one, and you could lose out on enough profit to set you back months. Even years. Math by mental ability is just as important, if not more so, than letting the computer compute it for you."
"But isn't the computer never wrong, Foogie?" asked Maeeshpela as she leaned her head upon her hands clutching the graceful curve of the desktop.
"And that's the problem," teased Gleb with one of his lazy smiles that Maeeshpela adored so much. "They're too perfect to understand error on either end."
He handed the pad to Maeeshpela.
"If you…" Maeeshpela said gently, "carry the four, and—"
Footsteps stopped in front of the door before it slid open. Both Gleb and Maeeshpela were up straight and pretending there was nothing unusual going on before the intruder could enter. They knew perfectly well who it was, after all.
"Oh, now I know where the bandages are, thank you, Foogie!" said Maeeshpela quickly.
Gleb chuckled silently, but he knew Foraneel was not fooled in the least as Maeeshpela skipped out of the room past her mother.
"Hi, Moogie!"
Foraneel shook her head as she followed Maeeshpela with her ears until she was sure the child was out of hearing long after the door shut behind her.
"They should be learning how to be good wives rather than good laborers," whispered Foraneel rubbing her wrists together uncomfortably. "Why do you encourage Maeeshpela, especially? It's dangerous."
Gleb shrugged languidly as he spun around in his chair with ease. "We live in the Great Bayou, Fora. Everyone minds their own business, especially behind one's own doors. Who doesn't give his wife a robe in the chill of a damp morning? Who doesn't have the poems read to them from a mother's hands?"
He smiled his deepest laziest smile.
"I still don't like it and neither should you," Foraneel said rubbing her wrists all the harder. "A husband will know if a father-in-law's daughter has not been taught correctly. Please, Gleb. Please."
Reaching out his hand, he snatched her shaking digits. He petted her hand gently and his smile turned to what she knew was more loving.
"Don't fret, Foraneel. All we're doing is making a little extra money having the babes make some antiques for some arrogant Hinezno noses who pride themselves so much in knowing when something's replicated that they don't have the sense to know when something's been faked by hand. The babes should be proud of themselves, and there's no law about having the babes work for free."
"I mean about Pel learning everything else about the business but how to make antiques."
"This is a private side-venture, and I need a second pair of eyes. I don't need to hire a boy for a job like that."
"Oh!" sighed Foraneel. "This is all my fault! I should have had a son. I should have gone through some means to have a son. Maybe some Hupyrian treatment. I'm no good to you. No good at all!"
"Where would the surprise be in that, hum?" He pulled her close to kiss her head so burdened by all her fears and regrets.
All Foraneel could do was sigh miserably, but as Gleb gazed gently at her, she relented and hugged him back.
#
"Rule of Acquisition Number 61," corrected Quark, "but I applaud you on your research. It's very impressive and flattering. If we are all on the same page, then you know that what's more flattering is the payment. As the wholesome Rule of 61 so suggests. So! You want me to secure an immediate audience with the Grand Nagus with insider assistance in accordance with the sacred and time-honored rite of bribing, but I'm gunna have to break it to you…"
There was zero sign of anticipation on the faces of his perspective clients. Not even a flicker in their placid brows. Not one of them.
Quark shrugged and went straight to point, "It's going to be a bit more difficult than it has been in the past because of the reforms, which you may or may not have heard about made by the former Grand Negus Zek and upheld with unfortunate zeal by his successor. It's going to take more work than just a pile of latinum in a case is worth."
"Yes," said Aavara, "we have heard of such reforms."
Quark was beginning to dislike that these people knew the Ferengi quite well, but he, in contrast, had never even heard the name 'Keeoopii'. He considered himself quite the expert of knowing different races. It was the business of Ferengi to do so, but it was also the business of Ferengi not to let their customers know what they were thinking, so he became more amiable rather than less by force of habit more than consciously. He had to hope they did not know Ferengi well enough to see through him, but what he really needed to know was who these people were. Not that he feared for Rom back on the home-world, of course. That was his business, but Quark had to keep in mind his own reputation, his own pocket, and his relationship with the station.
"We would offer you the singular position of being the first Ferengi with whom we do business by allowing you to choose any one of our thirteen moons to be a place of transaction between us and you alone. Whichever one you would feel to be worth the most to our mutual perspective customers."
"Well!" said Quark, his eyes gleaming now with talk of profits. His ears tingled and his fingers itched. "Now that is something to think about, isn't it?"
"We hoped you would be pleased," said Aavara with a humble nod of the head.
The five companions all gave similar single nods in a wave after the first.
"As a token of our goodwill, we humbly offer you, aside from an advance which we have brought in the case you mentioned, what is considered to us on Keeoopi the symbol of connection. The Connection Medallion."
"I'm deeply honored," insisted Quark with a hand to his heart and proceeded to pour the drinks at Broik's return.
From behind Aavara, the subordinates handed their superior two chains. Both chains held a gleaming medallion like a fob watch, which opened to a gleaming lava-lamp-like display behind a thin screen. The outside looked more valuable than the inside, however— stylized intricately with rich craftsmanship and bedecked in many colored jewels that reflected in the eyes as dazzling as beams from tiny stars.
The Keeoopii showed quickly how one was supposed to attach it to one's collar with pride.
Going with it, Quark took one of the objects by the crystal-like chain with reverence in imitation of the Keeoopii. He held it a moment above the table on its chain, admiring the medallion a moment as it swung and caught the lights of the bar. It was like some magical talisman about to tell a soothsayer a distant prophetic event.
It was telling Quark about profits now. He grinned back at the Keeoopii with a nod that imitated their bows.
"It is, according to ancient belief, a bringer of good fortune," said Aavara.
#
Gleb's eyes were sunken. The bluish lines around them were darker than usual and almost black. He moved sluggishly as he came
JMJ
JMJ
out from the bed chamber late.
"Oh, Gleb!" shivered Foraneel. "You sound awful! Your transport! It'll leave without you if you don't go now!"
"I'm… going to the doctor today," said Gleb in a strange low voice devoid of its usual charm.
The daughters all looked with puckered brows from where they were helping with breakfast.
"I been fighting it, I guess." Gleb tried to smile, but it was so weak and horrible that it made his family more afraid for him than less. "It's probably that jungle fever they were talking about in Karnavo. But it's no big deal, I'm sure. It's…"
"You always take such risks instead of getting yourself a stable, reasonable business, Gleb!" said Foraneel taking hold of him in a flash of hysteric emotion; she shook him by the shoulders in her consternation. "Oh, husband, husband!"
Gleb almost fell over from her outburst, but he managed to stave himself from the embarrassment. He moaned more from annoyance than pain as he swallowed on his swollen throat.
"I'm sure it's nothing too serious once I get my medicine," he muttered with a sniff as he held Foraneel back a little and blinked at her hard.
He patted her hand gently and nodded once more for reassurance's sake. The difficulty with which he tried to remain his usual self was so obviously strenuous that Ikareta, the youngest daughter, began to mewl.
Gleb sighed the louder and clicked the roof of his mouth in dismay.
#
Admittedly, Quark had some misgivings that the other medallion was for Broik. He did all he could to keep from clicking the roof of his mouth. The Keeoopii insisted upon giving the other to the employee. At least they were not going to bring the full staff into this.
"What's this?" asked Broik looking at Quark suspiciously.
"Broik. This is the Connection Medallion." said Quark with deep gravity despite his sneer. "For good luck and in honor of our future business arrangements. Put it on for our guests."
Broik obeyed, fumbling just a little as he figured out how to put the Medallion into place at the collar.
The Keeoopii watched with deep interest.
When both Ferengi returned to their guests, it was the first time Aavara's expression changed. The smile turned just the slightest bit wry. Not that Quark was unaware of his own half-trustworthy expressions. Odd squints and smirks were just natural in the life of a Ferengi. But Aavara's was a bit on the creepy side. It was a lustful, hungry sort of wryness that was almost vampire-like. Despite himself, Quark felt a shiver go through him, but it only lasted a few seconds.
When Aavara's placid smile returned, Quark's smile returned also, and it was quite more charming than before.
"It is tradition to give those in one's house this token."
"Oh," said Quark playfully. "He's not related to—"
#
"Now, Pel," said Gleb secretly to his daughter in his office; he was shivering in his robe and blinked strangely as he spoke, but he tried as hard as ever to be normal. "You know I can't be seen like this over transmissions. They'll know it's my own fault in getting myself sick in Karnavo." He laughed sickly. "I wasn't even supposed to leave the ship on Karnavo even if I did get away with what I came for."
Maeeshpela smiled and tried to laugh too, but it was hard to when Gleb's risk had been at such a price despite the latinum it was going to bring them if everything went right. "The riskier the road, the greater the profit," and yet…
His breathing was strained. His heartbeat was off-kilter. His digestion was struggling for balance. Maeeshpela looked up at her father's face and tried with difficulty not to listen too hard. It made her sick, and it showed on her face.
"You're gunna get better, though," Maeeshpela insisted.
Gleb laughed weakly. As he huddled back into his robe, he held out his hand to the wall to steady himself.
"Yes, yes, yes," he said. "I'm going to get better, but, Pel, I don't want to get out of bed broke, now do I? So…"
"I want to do it!" Maeeshpela said.
It had been her idea earlier anyway. The first time she had offered it to him in bed he had not answered. Even now he looked reluctant. Guilt, for bringing up such a notion in the first place when it was all fun and games, seemed to be creeping up on him now.
Gleb sighed. "I know, pet, I know. We've done it once. We can do it again, right?"
Maeeshpela nodded readily.
"We got the falsies and the shirt. No one should notice anything unusual over transmissions," Gleb said. "Shush now about telling Moogie, though, right?"
Maeeshpela nodded all the quicker.
Then suddenly he held up a finger and shook it, though feebly. "The—the little headdress is rented, though, so we gotta be careful with that. Then you take the calls and I know you'll be my hired boy better than any boy in the Great Bayou, right?"
Maeeshpela grinned. "Pel son of Meltek ready for duty as always, Gleb."
#
"One's family is one's staff," Aavara explained. "Work is one's house. We have evolved beyond the primitive ideas of the chance biological gathering of individuals known as a traditional blood-family. One's home is where the profit is, one might say; though this is speaking for the general sentiment of my race, you understand, and I mean no disrespect to yours and your beliefs about such things."
"Eloquently spoken," said Quark taking a drink from his glass.
Aavara also took a drink.
"But you, as the proprietor," Aavara then went on, "will now have a chance to review your true payment. Have a look at our moons. We have brought all the information you may require. In fact, we encourage you to come in person when you have time."
"I may, I may," said Quark now taking the opportunity to show that special amount of detachment in such proceedings as the Keeoopii handed him the thin screened tablet of an unusual and very attractive make. "But how soon do you wish to make arrangements with the Nagus?"
He peeked atmospherically at them over the top of the screen.
But their voices were dying away suddenly with the business particulars.
Bashir had quite forgotten himself until now. He became a separate entity again instead some nearly as unfeeling a thing watching all this as a crumb on the floor with eyes. The other sounds of the bar were drowned out in an eerie dreamy echoing of the electro-swing-like music before the music itself faded woozily out like a fever dream. The images of the businessmen faded into barely visible as anything but ghostly silhouettes. It was the medallions that drew Bashir's attention.
What did he remember?
Memories were hazy, smoking like an archaic speakeasy.
#
Once Gleb was finally well, he did not stop the arrangement with Pel as his "boy". In fact, he encouraged it more— almost to the death of Foraneel for how it tore her nerves. But his confidence had returned, and he felt that to reward Pel for all her hard work was the best thing for her. Even when a son was at last had this did not change. The young Jembar would have a lot to keep up with so far apart from his sister Maeeshpela.
All this whizzed by in a flash. The other sisters were married. Even Ikareta. Gleb was careful with each, not just about the profits, but far more about how well the husbands would care about them, which were, in general despite never being spoken about out loud, true to the Great Bayou way, but Pel stayed on.
Jembar was soon envious. Tension in the family was at an all time high. But before anyone could discover what Jembar would do or what Foraneel would accidently reveal to the extended family or even whether or not the extended family had their suspicions anyway, Gleb's illness returned.
It was so sudden, so violent, and so awful that it was as if he had been struck by lightning. One morning he was his usual self. At lunch he had lost his appetite and complained about being tired. At supper he was on his deathbed, and his death's agony was short.
The shock was devastating.
The family, extended and all, decided to blame it on poison at first. His doctor assured everyone it wasn't, but then, sometimes doctors were known for holding back information if paid well enough, and the father-in-law's stooge Manager of Lumber Dabri had always mistrusted Gleb. He was the first on Pel's list of suspects for the deed.
There was no real evidence, and in fact it was falsely proven in the end. It truly was the illness returned, and it was the doctor who was in trouble for not doing his research well enough about the Karnava Fever a few years earlier, but the idea of Dabri being responsible made Pel hate Dabri anyway, especially when he took over the businesses, married her mother, and took possession of her and took over Jembar's affairs as he was too young to inherit anything yet. Gleb had no brothers either. Jembar had full claim, and Pela was on Jembar's side, but the debate about it was a continuous thing with full bribery and threats all around.
Dabri was envious of Gleb, really. Even in death. After all the hard work he had ever given to Pela, it had always been Gleb that Pela obviously liked better. It did not take a genius to figure that out, and Gleb had never even officially done business with him outside of marrying his eldest and loveliest daughter.
#
Wait!
Something was living inside of those medallions.
There was no denying it.
Alive and hungrier than Aavara had revealed in his crimson eyes.
#
"You are such a beauty, Maeeshpela." Dabri's horrible voice rang like a deafening screech in her ears, but it was only a miserable hush.
The light of the sun was trickling through the parlor window and cast shadows eerily in the room as Dabri looked her over. He may have been handsome. Most people said so. He was younger than her father had been before he died too, but Dabri had lost any charm he may have had for how demonic he looked now.
"Such a petite female," he said. "Such long, dexterous, gentle hands."
After taking her hand to examine those nimble digits and those smooth, hard blue claws on her hand he lifted his head again. His sneer was a mockery of her father's lazy smile as he circled her like some deadly predator. Like some horrible lake eel with nasty poisonous teeth ready to make a lunge. He touched her chin, and she was obliged to look into his horrible piercing blue eyes.
"Such a sweet graceful neck. The darling voice. Blue-green eyes so soft and gemlike. Body pristine for childbearing. The treasure of
Pela's Woods…" he almost hissed the words like some Scurrier, as they were called, who lived more cruelly and crudely than most Ferengi. He seemed more ready to eat her whole than anything else.
"My bids are up so high, and a little defiance can be dealt with by the buyer, I'm sure," said Dabri, and he laughed in a quiet seething sort of way. "My good friend, in fact, is the highest bidder so far. You should be proud, my dear sweet thing. Very proud. He is the richest man in the Bayou aside from your own grandfather, and he may get wealthier yet with his new enterprise among the stars, my dear. Oh! If only all your sisters were as lovely, or your father wasn't so stupid letting them off to stupid husbands. You are the last, my dear, and by far the lushest!"
#
Bashir could see them, and they were indeed hungry. The Keeoopii were definitely occupied. Their lust was deep for gain with an insatiable thirst like a starving wolf of a fairy tale. He could see them now, little slugs with jellyfish tentacles that stretched out further and stringier with a fading scene slipping out of their cases. The Medallions.
At night they aimed for the sleeping head of Rom in his regal chambers within the Tower of Commerce in the heart of Ferenginar City. His sleepy toothy yawn was only briefly interrupted as the predator slipped right in through that open doorway on the side of every Ferengi head. He blinked with a deep sleeper's blink that never saw anything but the dreams still going on in his head despite the peeking whites of his eyes flickering to the night air.
"Mmm?" asked Leeta from the other side of him, but she was just as sleepy.
Neither could see those greedy tentacles lunging for the kill.
#
Foraneel rubbed the heels of her palms together as she paced at the open gate from the courtyard that led into the bayou.
She had heard the rummaging last night no matter how quiet the girl had tried to be. The secret stash of Gleb's things that Pel had hidden from Dabri had been gone this morning when Foraneel had checked. Pel had not been clever enough to be able to hide them from her mother.
She knew.
Jembar did too. Despite his earlier envies, she knew he was less likely to tell than herself.
For the sake of herself and the sake of her family, the girl would throw away the name "Maeeshpela" completely. "Pel" would become more than a pet name but a full-fledged name in its own right. An unusual one, but one that was almost always considered masculine. Pel son of Meltek. With it and her false lobes, she could easily buy herself a license with the money Gleb had given her as an "allowance" some time before the resurgence of his illness.
Foraneel jumped as Jembar passed her by to the water's edge. He looked back at his mother with a shudder. Then he threw back his head with the Ferengi hoot of pain. In the echo of the wooded bayou it sounded like some crying animal. Playing it up as best as he could to pretend that it was the most horrible prospect in all the world he screamed, "She's drowned!"
Again Foraneel jumped, but she quickly got into action herself.
"Oh! Maeeshpela! Maeeshpela! How could she have drowned!? Oh, my poor daughter! Oh! Oh, my poor ears! Oh, my wicked stars! Oh why? Oh dear, oh why!? Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh!"
"Moogie!" hissed Jembar; for she was acting just a little stupid about it, but she quickly became better at it as they heard Dabri coming down the stairs. He burst out from the enclosed veranda.
"Maeeshpela-a-a-a-ah!" Foraneel sobbed as tears burst forth from her eyes.
Dabri snarled.
"What?" he demanded.
Without the least bit of decorum, he pushed past Jembar and Foraneel to examine the scene for himself.
