Chapter Five

Spontaneity comes in Pairs

They were surrounded by archaic-styled hooks and chains and tools of dangerous make in this dark and earthy shed, causing the

softness of the grass and the trees outside to be even brighter, greener, and softer than they otherwise would be in the blinding glow of Papa and Son.

He blinked back into the darkness where the main gleam of light was the window's reflection on Pel's blue-green eyes.

"Well, in a sense they can… to a degree," he said. "I'm not sure how, exactly, except that they are in direct contact with the brains of their hosts. For what purpose fully, I'm not sure, but they're hungry for it and they're on the move."

The Keeoopii were there to usurp Ferenginar. The leading figure of the planet now, Rom was evidently defenseless against the Keeoopii and so was Leeta. The whole governmental body of Ferenginar was on the menu for these starving slug creatures. Why the Ferengi specifically, was what was the most unclear about it as the station seemed to have been mainly left alone if the flashes were to be believed.

"What are you talking about?" Pel demanded.

Bashir had not noticed how long he had been standing there all but drooling in front of Pel as he rethought about these things. As he clamped his mouth shut and returned to her, he straightened himself.

"What are they after?"

"Ferenginar!" said Bashir with annoyance. "I don't know if it was the future or the past, but they went to Quark's Bar to make arrangements with the Grand Nagus. He could even now be controlled by them."

"Controlled?" breathed Pel in panic. "Quark? We have to save him!"

"And Broik," muttered Bashir more to himself again than paying the least bit attention to his companion. "And possibly many other Ferengi. Or it could be before."

"But how do you know all this?" Pel demanded becoming more and more fidgety.

She was beginning to pace now too back and forth in front of Bashir. She was even just beginning to rub the heels of her palms together after the fashion of Foraneel, her mother. Though, as Bashir blinked upon this action, she quickly stopped herself and threw her hands to her sides, clenching her hands into fists instead with her thick blue nails digging into her palms.

"I…" Bashir began. "The truth is I was… well, it was an accident."

Pel stopped pacing and glared hard at Bashir. She came in very close in that way Ferengi were known to do when they wanted to see clearly through their poorer vision than most races, their rivals face-to-face. Needless to say, it always was an invasion of personal space for which they only compensated for by having tremendous care about their oral hygiene to which Pel was no exception.

"An accident?" she nearly hissed right into his face with her hot, albeit, neutralized smelling breath. "How?"

Blinking from the unpleasantness of the experience, Bashir stepped back, straightened himself again, and then said, "There was a scientist named Pr. Glen Boraas, who was attempting to make revolutions with time travel. Illegal and dangerous for all concerned. We found that instead of getting close to his goal, he created a rip in time and space into a void in the fabric of reality. In rescuing those in danger and already injured, I was part of the away team, and ended up inside the rip. My mind was assaulted with all time and space and—"

"So now you just know everything?" Pel demanded.

"No!" said Bashir. "I don't know everything— well, maybe in theory, I do, but I only remember things as they come up and sometimes I forget them as soon as I remember them. I don't know exactly how it works!"

"But you said you were a doctor."

"I don't see what that has to do with it. I did, in fact, die from the experience in the first place, apparently, and was only just barely brought back to life in time to be saved. Now…"

"That sounds crazy!" said Pel. "You're just making this up."

"Why would I make up something so crazy?" Bashir demanded back. "You said yourself there's no profit in what I'm telling you, monetarily or otherwise. If you just stopped interrupting me, I might be able to get something out, you know."

"But you're not making any sense," said Pel.

"You're right, though, your father has nothing to do with the Keeoopii," said Bashir suddenly.

"So?"

"So, what I mean is, I only remembered your father because I saw you. I only remembered your race because of what you are, and I only remembered Quark, I think, because, I knew him. Though, interestingly enough he also has a connection with you… You were in love with him, I think. It's only because I remember that I know anything."

After a quick and embarrassed flush of yellow in her ears, Pel paused mulling over this for a minute. Looking down instead of at him, she turned towards the door with her arms crossed. She was still tense, but finally she had calmed herself enough to evidently come to a decision.

She said cautiously, "Is what you saw about Quark and the Grand Nagus the past or the future?"

"It might have been the present," said Bashir. "…For all I know."

"Then we have to stop it," said Pel as-a-matter-of-factly.

Bashir was taken aback. "You believe me?"

"I don't know for sure, but if Quark is really infected with some horrible sentient parasite, you're a doctor, you can save him. We can stop it. I have a small ship. We could get to the bar easily from here."

"But I can't just leave right in the middle—"

"We don't have time to explain it to anyone, do we?" demanded Pel. "And if we call him, he might not be able to give a clear answer, and anyone else? Well, it'll be confusing. Besides, Pelipans don't have communications that reach that far out in general. They don't see the point. You're the only one who's seen these things in action. I barely believe it myself and if we brought more people into this, we might not have time to do something before all of Ferenginar is infected!"

"Well, that's true, and yet…"

"I'll go without you then!" declared Pel.

"But you could get infected too," said Bashir.

"I don't care. I'll find out for myself what's going on if you don't."

She still loved Quark.

It did not take a mind reader or a person who sees time and space to see that. She was worried about her planet, of course, but she was shaken to the core about Quark, as much as she would of her own father.

He wanted to argue. He knew that he should. Even if she did not listen to him and ran off by herself, he knew he could not go with her, but something in his mind was urging him to do so anyway. Was he still in a fog due to this last violent case of flashing memories from the void rip?

Pel was already pulling him out the door of the shed and into the blinding light of Pelipan fields with the early blooms of kadoberry blossoms breaking at their run into flutters of petals and a strong sweet scent. He did not protest. He had no will to do so, somehow. It was all happening so fast and his mind felt so unnervingly sluggish right now. His head was spinning with the flashes he had already seen on and off like the throbbing of a wound that was still fresh. Pel had him across the fields, past buildings, and along roads until they came to a shipyard. Her small ship was waiting for her.

It was not beautiful, but it was in good working order and advanced for its type by upgrades that Pel might have acquired before her

arrival to Pelipa. Before Bashir knew what was happening he was out in space. Pel had sent a transmission to Mr. Mustan-Gia's ranch about a home emergency, but otherwise there was no looking back. Bashir barely perceived what she was doing anyway as his heart pounded in his ears with thrill and guilt about what he was doing.

He should not be doing this. He should not, and yet, it was happening.

It had only been so very recently that the captain had decided that Bashir's condition had wore away. Bashir was normal again for this latest mission, supposedly. Apparently, Bashir's self diagnosis had been overly optimistic.

This had been the worst flash yet.

He should not have been so quick to hush up Dr. Tenniel's advice that he take sick leave, but now he was stuck in a situation in which he could not back out easily. He should have listened to her first suggestion to go back to Earth for further analysis of his condition.

He was at Pel's mercy now. Kidnapped by a Ferengi. All he could do was sigh.

#

"How much do you know about my life?" asked Pel after a period of silence.

Bashir blinked at his pilot in the small cockpit.

"I'm sorry," Bashir said lowering his head. "I do feel like I've invaded your privacy."

"Well," sighed Pel. "It's not your fault if you can't control it, but I guess I'd just like to know."

She looked rather forlorn as she said this and stared out at the vacuum of space in front of her.

"Well, I don't see that you have anything to personally be ashamed of about your life."

"You saw my father," said Pel rather darkly.

Bashir hesitated. "Yes."

"You must think he's a coward or something. You being a hew…" She paused, and looked at Bashir apologetically. "I mean Human."

"No," said Bashir quickly. "No. I don't think that. Maybe…well, your grandfather for allowing Dabri to—"

"My father was a great man," interrupted Pel. "He was the best man I ever knew. He was clever. He was good to us. He knew how to please my grandfather. No one could outsmart him, especially how he could look so nonchalant. So unassuming. He was a mastermind. But then as gentle as a sprinkling mist. He didn't have a cruel bone in his entire body."

Bashir listened. He did not dare interrupt even when she paused.

"I don't know what you know specifically," Pel then added, "or if you know everything or if what you know is vague things, but he made me what I am."

She paused again very thoughtfully, and although Bashir had been trying to work out his own problems, he could not help but be fully involved now as he looked upon this poor girl he had basically only dreamt about until now.

"He apologized to me that… that night he died," said Pel.

"Apologized?"

Pel smiled. "So you don't know everything?"

"Well, no. I told you that."

"Then I don't know if I'd rather just keep it a secret or if I should just fill in for you," shrugged Pel in a candid sort of way. "He said he apologized for endangering me. He said he never should have done it, but that he would rather work with his family more than anyone else in the world. It kept things private and loose. The way he liked them. He said he was very selfish that way."

Tears stung her eyes, but she blinked them away.

"He wished only the best for me," said Pel. "For all of us. He wanted… Well, I was so happy when the reforms started, you know," Pel went on. "I was so happy. I went home right away thinking it was going to be the world my father dreamed of. The world I dreamed of, but…"

"But?"

"It's not."

"What do you mean?"

Though, Bashir was recalling now hints that he had seen in the latest flash, he wanted to hear it through her. The static in the flashes was more troubling than the flashes themselves at times. There had been so much in between everything. Ferenginar was throwing away everything from the past. Except for the greed. That was still quite the same.

Pel's answer to the question however was simple enough, despite the mounds of complications, "Laws don't change hearts. Reforming is a personal choice."

"Sometimes changing laws leads to changing hearts," said Bashir; though his own tone was not overly optimistic. "Things may work themselves out. It's a difficult time for your people."

Was he recalling something else? He was not sure entirely. He was not flashing anyway.

Would he ever be himself again?

"I was going to come home again after the races…" said Pel vaguely.

"Were you?"

"I sure hope we're there in time to save Quark," said Pel.

Bashir frowned deeply. "Well, I'm still not sure we should have just gone off like this."

Pel shook her head. "'Spontaneity comes in pairs,' Dr. Bashir."

"That's not a Rule of Acquisition."

Pel smiled. "No, it's my father's rule." There was another short pause. "I thought Quark was… well, like my father." She laughed. "At first."

"Maybe he's more like you," Bashir teased, not exactly knowing why he did.

Pel scrunched her nose and grinned toothily. "What?" she said.

Bashir shook his head.

"I wouldn't peg him as being spontaneous," said Pel wryly.