Ahn of Deep Space Nine
A fan-novel, based on Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud
Montgomery and STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE.
DISCLAIMER: This was written solely for the sake of fun. No
money is being made here, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Takes place after "What You Leave Behind," the final
episode of Deep Space Nine.
- - - - -
EPISODE XX
The Story Club Is Formed
The youth of Deep Space Nine found it hard to return to the old
routine. To Ahn in particular things seemed incredibly unpalatable
compared to the goblet of excitement she had been sipping from
for weeks. Could she go back to the former quiet pleasures of
those faraway days before the play? At first, she told Becky,
she did not really think she could.
"I'm positively certain, Becky, that life can never be quite
the same again as it was in days past," she said mournfully,
as if referring to a period of at least fifty years back. "Perhaps
after a while I'll get used to it, but I'm afraid the theatre
spoils people for everyday life. I suppose that is why Mr. Quark
disapproves of them. Mr. Quark is such a sensible person. It must
be a great deal better to be sensible; but still, I don't believe
I'd really want to be a sensible person, because they are so unromantic.
Your mother says there is no danger of my ever being one, but
you can never tell. I feel just now that I may grow up to be sensible
yet. But perhaps that is only because I'm tired. I simply couldn't
sleep last night for long. I just lay awake and imagined "The
Warrior King" over and over again. That's one splendid thing
about such affairs - it's so lovely to look back at them."
Eventually, however, school slipped back into its old groove and
took up its old interests. To be sure, the play left its mark.
William Toliver and B'Toreth, who had quarreled over the lead
role, no longer spoke to each other, and a polite association
of eight months was dissolved. Rislan Dana and Lee Han did not
speak for months, because as director, the former had told the
latter that he sounded like a chicken whenever he spoke his lines.
Finally, Tared Evron fought T'anik because the young Vulcan had
said that Ahn's behavior since the play was "most illogical."
Consequently, T'anik's best friend, Alojza Schumann, would not
speak to Ahn the rest of the school year. With the exception of
these trifling frictions, work in Mrs. Chel's little kingdom went
on with regularity and smoothness.
The weeks quickly slipped by, and the Bajoran winter was fast
approaching. Mrs. Chel told the class that she was planning a
field trip to the planet in order to see the first snows. She
would have them write a composition titled "A Winter's Walk
in the Woods," and it was vital for them to be observant.
"I won't mind writing that composition when its time comes,"
sighed Becky over her lunch. "I can manage to write about
the woods, but the one we're to hand in at the end of this week
is terrible. The idea of Mrs. Chel telling us to write a story
out of our own heads!"
"Why, it's as easy as a wink," said Ahn.
"It's easy for you because you have an imagination,"
retorted Becky, "but what would you do if you had been born
without one? I suppose you have your composition all done?"
Ahn nodded, trying hard not to look virtuously complacent and
failing miserably.
"I wrote it yesterday evening. It's called 'The Jealous Rival;
or In Death Not Divided.' I read it to Mr. Quark and he said it
was a bunch of nonsense. Then I read it to Cousin Nog and he said
it was fine. That is the kind of critic I like. It's a sad, sweet
story. I just cried like an infant while I was writing it. It's
about two beautiful maidens who lived in the same village and
were devotedly attached to each other. One had dark raven's hair
and duskly flashing eyes. The other had silken brown hair and
lilac eyes."
"I never saw anybody with lilac eyes," said Becky dubiously.
"Neither have I. I just imagined them. I wanted something
out of the ordinary. That is one of the advantages of growing
older. The scope of imagination widens."
"Well, what became of the two maidens?" asked Becky,
who was beginning to feel rather interested in their fate.
"They grew in beauty side by side until they were sixteen.
Then a handsome Prince came to their native village and fell in
love with the lilac-eyed one. He saved her life when her riding
hound ran wild with her in a carriage, and she fainted in his
arms and he carried her home three miles; because, you understand,
the carriage was all smashed up. I found it rather hard to imagine
the proposal because I had no experience to go by. I asked Rislan
Dana if she knew anything about how men proposed because I thought
she'd likely be an authority on the subject, having so many sisters
married. She told me she hid in the hall closet when Maleb Andes
proposed to her sister Kalazar. She said that he told her that
his father had given him the farm in his own name and then said,
'My love, will you come away with me. I believe it is our destiny.'
And Kalazar said, 'Oh YES...NO...I DON'T know...let me see' and
there they were, engaged as quick as that. But I didn't think
that sort of a proposal was a very romantic one, so in the end
I had to imagine it out as well as I could. I made it very flowery
and poetical and the Prince went on his knees, although Dana says
that is a human custom. The maiden accepted him in a speech a
page long. I can tell you I took a lot of trouble with that speech.
I rewrote it five times and I look upon it as my master-piece.
The Prince gave her a latinum crown, for he was immensely wealthy.
But then, alas, shadows began to darken over their path. The raven-haired
maiden was secretly in love with the Prince herself and when the
lilac- eyed maiden told her about the engagement she was simply
furious, especially when she saw the crown. All affection turned
to bitter hate and the raven-haired maiden vowed revenge. She
pretended to be the lilac-eyed maiden's friend the same as ever.
Then one evening, they were standing on the bridge over a rushing
turbulent stream. Thinking no one else present, the raven-haired
maiden pushed the lilac-eyed maiden into the rolling waters with
a wild, mocking laugh. But the Prince saw it all and he at once
plunged in to rescue her. But alas, he had forgotten he couldn't
swim, and they were both drowned, clasped in each other's arms.
Their bodies were washed ashore soon afterwards. They were buried
in one grave and their funeral was most imposing, Becky. It's
so much more romantic to end a story up with a funeral than a
wedding. As for the raven-haired maiden, her hair immediately
turned white from shock. She went insane with remorse and was
shut up in a lunatic asylum. I thought that was a poetical retribution
for her crime."
"How perfectly lovely!" sighed Becky, who belonged to
Nog's school of criticism. "I don't see how you can make
up such thrilling things out of your own head, Ahn. I wish my
imagination was as good as yours."
"It would be if you'd only cultivate it," said Ahn cheeringly.
"I've just thought of a plan, Becky. Let's you and me have
a story club all our own and we can write stories for practice.
I'll help you along until you can do them by yourself. You ought
to cultivate your imagination, you know. Mrs. Chel says so. Only
we must do it the right way."
This was how the story club came into existence. It was limited
to Becky and Ahn at first, but soon invitations were extended
to Rislan Dana, Shidra Cadai, and B'Toreth. The club was kept
secret - although Dana later suggested that a more open policy
would attract others - and each member had to produce one story
a week.
"It's extremely interesting," Ahn told Quark. "Each
of us has to read their own story out loud and then we talk it
over. We are going to keep them all sacredly and have them to
read to our descendants. We each write under a nom-de-plume. Mine
is 'Nin-er.' All of us do pretty well. Dana is rather sentimental.
She puts too much lovemaking into her stories and you know too
much is worse than too little. Becky never puts any because she
says it makes her feel so silly when she had to read it out loud.
Shidra's stories are extremely sensible. B'Toreth puts too many
honor killings into his. He says most of the time he doesn't know
what to do with the people so he kills them off to get rid of
them. I mostly always have to tell them what to write about, but
that isn't hard for I've millions of ideas."
"I think this story-writing business is the worst yet,"
scoffed Quark. "You'll get a pack of nonsense into your heads
and waste time that could be put to profitable use. Reading stories
is bad enough but writing them is worse."
"But we're so careful to put a moral into them all, Mr. Quark,"
explained Ahn. "I insist upon that.
All the good people are richly
rewarded and all the bad ones are suitably punished. I'm sure
that must have a wholesome effect. The moral is the most important
thing. Dr. Bashir says so. I read one of my stories to him and
Counselor Dax and they both agreed that the moral was excellent.
Only they laughed in the wrong places. I like it better when people
cry. Becky almost always cries when I come to the pathetic parts.
Becky wrote her Uncle Quinn about our club and he wrote back that
we were to send him some of our stories. So we copied out four
of our very best and sent them. He then wrote back that he had
never read anything so funny in all his life. That kind of puzzled
us because the stories were all very pathetic and almost everybody
died. But I'm glad Mr. Peters liked them. It shows our club is
doing some good in the universe. Mr. Peters says that ought to
be our ultimate goal in life. I do really try to make it my goal
but I forget so often when I'm having fun. I hope I shall be a
little like Mr. Peters when I grow up. Do you think there is any
prospect of it, Mr. Quark?"
"Not likely," Quark answered. "I'm sure Mr. Peters
was never such a silly, forgetful person as you are."
"No; but he wasn't always so good as he is now either,"
said Ahn seriously. "He told me so himself...that is, he
said he had a dreadful temper when he was a boy and was always
getting into scrapes. I felt so encouraged when I heard that.
Is it very wicked of me, Mr. Quark, to feel encouraged when I
hear that other people have been bad and mischievous? Nurse Peters
says it is. She says she always feels shocked when she hears of
anyone ever having been naughty, no matter how small they were
at the time. Nurse Peters says she once heard a Starfleet Captain
confess that as a boy he stole a shuttle. Well, she never had
any respect for that person again. Now, I wouldn't have felt that
way. I'd have thought that it was real noble of him to confess
it, and I'd have thought what an encouraging thing it would be
for small children nowadays who do naughty things and are sorry
for them to know that perhaps they may grow up to be Starfleet
Commanders in spite of it. That's how I'd feel, Mr. Quark."
"And do you know how I feel?" replied Quark. "I
feel that it's time you headed to the bar to do your evening's
work. You've already lost a big chunk of time with all this chattering
about writings and prospects. Obviously, you need a refresher
on the 195th Rule of Acquisition.*"
"I know it by heart," Ahn sighed as she headed towards
the door. "Work first, talk later."
- - - - -
EPISODE XXI
Vanity and Vexation of Spirit
Quark, heading for the bar early one weekend morning, felt a brightness
within him that engulfed all feelings of worry and doubt. It was
as if he'd broken the locks off the doors of the Divine Treasury.
Perhaps the catalyst lay in the bar's higher-than-average weekly
profit, or with his recent investment in a string of gourmet hasperat
stands. But Quark was not given to subjective analysis of his
thoughts and feelings. In his mind, there stood before him an
endless expanse of shimmering latinum, of golden rectangular bricks
stacked from floor to ceiling, of hulking guards, with massive
weapons, rendered permanently unconscious. For whatever reason,
the vault was open in Quark's mind, and his whole being was wrapped
in a deep, primal gladness.
From a few feet away, his eyes dwelt affectionately upon the source
of his livelihood. As his gaze went from the blinking lights,
to the dabo tables, Quark's thoughts turned to Ahn. He knew that
when he came inside, she would already be preparing for the afternoon
rush. There would be a table waiting, with a bowl of fresh tube
grubs and a copy of the morning financial reports. Without that
girl, he thought, success would not have been as meaningful. Yes,
as long as the vault was open, he would make sure Ahn was there
to hold open the burlap sack.
Consequently, when Quark entered and found no sign of Ahn anywhere,
he felt justly disappointed and irritated. He had told Ahn to
be sure and have his breakfast at 08 00 hours but now he had to
skip it and start setting things up himself.
"I'll settle her when she gets here," Quark grumbled,
as he pulled a chair down from the table, turning it to the floor
with more force than was necessary.
Nog strolled in and ordered a hot chocolate from the replicator.
"I think she's off somewhere, writing stories or something,
and just forgot the time."
"She's got to be taught a lesson," Quark countered.
"I don't care if her teacher says she shows 'great promise.'
She may have promise, but I never know what kind of crazy stunt
she'll pull next. Just as soon as she apologizes for one thing
she goes and does something ten times worse."
"Well now, I don't know," said Nog, who, being patient
and wise and, above all, thirsty, had deemed it best to let Quark
talk his wrath out unhindered, having learned by experience that
he got through with whatever work was on hand much quicker if
not delayed by untimely argument.
"Maybe you're being to quick to judge, Uncle. Don't accuse
her of something unless you know she actually did it. Maybe this
can all be explained - I'm sure there's a reason behind all this."
"She's supposed to be here this morning ," retorted
Quark. "I doubt she'll be able to explain ANYTHING to my
satisfaction. And I knew you'd take her side. But I'm responsible
for her, not you."
The bar was in the middle of an afternoon rush, and still no sign
of Ahn darting off the turbolift, breath- less and repentant with
a sense of neglected duties. Quark stood by the entrance grimly.
He only moved after a customer complained about being unable to
open his holosuite door. Reluctantly, Quark went upstairs and
tried the access codes. When they failed, he had to resort to
manual override. When the door finally slid back, he found Ahn
in the corner. She sat on the floor, and the top of her head was
covered with a large cloth towel.
"I don't believe this," said astonished Quark, "have
you been asleep the whole time?"
"No," was the muffled reply.
"Are you sick then?" Quark demanded.
With a low moan, Ahn pulled the towel forward, completely covering
her face.
"No, please, Mr. Quark, go away and don't look at me. I'm
in the depths of despair and I don't care who invented the warp
drive or how many ways there are to avoid taxes or what poem I
will recite for class next week. It simply doesn't matter now
because I don't suppose I'll ever be able to go anywhere again.
My life is finished. Please, Mr. Quark, go away and don't look
at me."
Quark stared at her, mystified.
"Kor Ahn, what is wrong with you? What have you done? Get
up now and tell me. Now, I said. What's going on here?"
Ahn rose from the floor in despairing obedience.
"Look at my hair," she whispered.
Accordingly, Quark pulled the towel from her head and looked scrutinizingly
at Ahn's hair, flowing in heavy masses down her back. It certainly
had a very strange appearance.
"What did you do to your hair? It's PURPLE!"
To call it that was an insult to the color - it was more of a
queer, dull, lifeless hue, with streaks here and there of the
original red to heighten the ghastly effect. Never in his life
had Quark seen anything so grotesque as Ahn's hair at that moment.
"Yes, it's purple," moaned Ahn. "I thought nothing
could be as bad as red hair. But now I know it's ten times worse
to have purple hair. Oh, now you little know how utterly wretched
I am."
"I don't know how this happened, but I'm going to find out,"
said Quark. "Come and tell me just what you did. I knew that
things have been going too good these past few weeks. Just what
did you do to your hair?"
"I dyed it."
"Dyed it! Dyed your hair! What for?"
"I thought it was worth while to get rid of my red hair.
I counted the cost, Quark. Besides, I meant to be extra good in
other ways to make up for it."
"Well," said Quark sarcastically, "if I had hair,
and wanted to dye it, I'd have picked a decent color at least.
I wouldn't have gone for purple."
"But I didn't mean to dye it purple, Mr. Quark," protested
Ahn dejectedly. "I wanted turn my hair a beautiful raven
black...the instructions positively assured me that it would.
How could I doubt words, Mr. Quark? I know what it feels like
to have your word doubted. And Chief Jackson says we should never
suspect anyone of not telling us the truth unless we have proof
that they're not. I have proof now...purple hair is proof enough
for anybody. But I hadn't then and I believed every word printed
in the instructions IMPLICITLY."
"Instructions where? What are you talking about?"
"The instructions on the box of dye. I bought the dye from
an Orion peddler."
"Kor Ahn, how many times have I told you to never let anyone
in the bar when we're closed!"
"Oh, I didn't let him in the bar. I remembered what you told
me, and I went out, carefully shut the door, and looked at his
things he set on the ground out side. He had a big bag full of
very interesting things and he told me he was working hard to
make enough money to bring his wife and children to the quadrant.
He spoke so feelingly about them that it touched my heart. I wanted
to buy something from him to help him in such a worthy goal. Then
I saw the box of hair dye. The peddler said it was guaranteed
to dye any hair a beautiful raven black and wouldn't wash off.
In a flash I saw myself with beautiful raven-black hair and the
temptation was irresistible. But the price of the bottle was two
strips of latinum and I had only one left out of my allowance.
I think the peddler had a very kind heart, for he said that, seeing
it was me, he'd sell it for one strip and that was just giving
it away. So I bought it, and as soon as he had gone I went back
to the sink and applied it as the directions said. I used up the
whole box, and oh, Mr. Quark, when I saw the dreadful color it
turned my hair I repented of being so foolish, I can tell you.
And I have been repenting ever since."
"Well, I hope you learned your lesson," said Quark severely,
"and that you've got your eyes opened to where your vanity
has led you. I don't know what to do about it now. I guess you'd
better give your hair a good washing and see if that will do any
good."
Accordingly, Ahn washed her hair, scrubbing it vigorously with
several types of shampoo, but it made no difference. Of all the
Orion's statements, it was the only one which had actually proven
true.
"Oh, Mr. Quark, what do I do?" questioned Ahn in tears.
"I'll never live this one down. People may have forgotten
my other mistakes - getting Becky drunk and falling from the top
of the Promenade. But they'll never forget this. They will think
I am not respectable. Oh, like the humans say, 'what a tangled
web we weave when first we practice to deceive.' That is poetry,
but it is also truth. And oh, how everyone will laugh! I CANNOT
face them. I am the unhappiest girl on Deep Space Nine."
Ahn's unhappiness continued for a week. During that time she wore
a scarf over her head and shampooed her hair every day. Becky
alone knew the fatal secret, but she promised solemnly never to
tell, and it may be stated here and now that she kept her word.
At the end of the week Quark said decidedly:
"It's no use, Ahn. You should just cut it off and start over."
Ahn's lips quivered, but she realized the bitter truth of his
remarks. With a dismal sigh she went for the scissors.
"Please cut it off, and get it over with. Oh, I feel that
my heart is broken. This is such an unromantic affliction. The
girls in books lose their hair in fevers or sell it to get money
for some good deed, and I'm sure I wouldn't mind losing my hair
in some such fashion half so much. But there is nothing comforting
in having your hair cut off because you've dyed it a dreadful
color, is there? I'm going to weep all the time you're cutting
it off, if it won't interfere. It seems such a tragic thing."
Ahn wept then, but later on, when she went upstairs and looked
in the glass, she was calm with despair. Quark never had much
dealings with hair, but he had done his work thoroughly and it
had been necessary to trim the hair as closely as possible. The
result was not becoming, to state the case mildly. Ahn promptly
turned her face away from the mirror.
"I'll never, never look at myself again until my hair grows,"
she exclaimed passionately.
Then she turned to face the mirror again.
"Yes, I will, too. I'd do penance for being wicked that way.
I'll look at myself every time I come to my room and see how ugly
I am. And I won't try to imagine it away, either. I never thought
I was that vain about my hair, of all things, but now I know I
was, in spite of its being red, because it was so long and thick.
I expect something will happen to my nose next."
Ahn's clipped head made a sensation in school the next day, but
to her relief nobody guessed the real reason for it, not even
Evron Tared, who, however, did not fail to inform Ahn that she
looked like a perfect scarecrow.
"I didn't say anything when he said that to me," Ahn
confided that evening to Quark, who was lying on the sofa after
one of his headaches, "because I thought it was part of my
punishment and I ought to bear it patiently. It's hard to be told
you look like a scarecrow and I wanted to say something back.
But I didn't. I just gave him a scornful look and then I forgave
him secretly. It makes you feel very virtuous when you forgive
people, doesn't it? I mean to devote all my energies to being
good after this and I shall never try to be beautiful again. Of
course it's better to be good. I know it is, but it's sometimes
so hard to believe a thing even when you know it. I do really
want to be good, Quark, like you and Nog and Mrs. Chel, and grow
up to be a credit to you. Becky says that when my hair begins
to grow to tie a black velvet ribbon around my head with a bow
at one side. She says she thinks it will be very becoming. But
am I talking too much, Mr. Quark? Does it hurt your head?"
"My head is better now. It was awful this afternoon, though.
These headaches of mine are getting worse and worse. I'll have
to see Doctor Bashir about them. As for your talking, I don't
really mind - I've gotten so used to it."
Which was Quark's way of saying that he liked to hear it.
- - - - -
EPISODE XXII
The Unfortunate Holosuite Maid
YOU must be Elaine, Ahn," said Becky. "I could never
find the courage to float down there."
"Nor I," said Rislan Dana, with a shiver. "I don't
mind floating down when there's two or three of us together and
we can sit up. It's fun then. But to lie down and pretend to be
dead - I just couldn't. I'd truly die of fright."
"Of course it would be romantic," conceded Shidra Cadai,
"but I know that I couldn't keep still. I'd be popping up
every minute or so to see where I was and if I wasn't drifting
too far out. And you know, Ahn, that would spoil the effect."
"But it's so ridiculous to have a redheaded Elaine,"
mourned Ahn. "I'm not afraid to float down and I'd love to
be Elaine. But it's ridiculous just the same. You ought to be
Elaine because your skin is pink and you have has such lovely
long hair...Elaine had 'all her bright hair streaming down,' you
know. And Elaine was the lily maid. Now, a red-haired Cardassian
cannot be a lily maid."
"Your complexion is just as nice as Shidra's," said
Becky earnestly, "and your hair is much darker than it used
to be before you cut it."
"Oh, do you really think so?" exclaimed Ahn, flushing
sensitively with delight. "I've sometimes thought it was
myself, but I never dared to ask anyone for fear they'd tell me
it wasn't. Do you think it could be called auburn now, Becky?"
"Yes, and I think it's very pretty," said Becky, looking
admiringly at the sleek shoulder-length strands slicked into a
ponytail and held in place by a very jaunty black velvet ribbon
and bow.
They were in a holosuite, standing by the banks of an imaginary
pond. A little headland fringed with birches ran out from the
bank, and at its tip was a small wooden platform built out into
the water, for the convenience of fishermen. But Ahn, Rislan and
Shidra had no intention of catching holographic trout.
Since Ahn's fall, Quark limited the time she spent roaming free
on the station. When Ahn first learned of her curfew and restriction,
she sat in her quarters and wept, not considering the romance
of it all. She was consoled soon enough. Ahn was a young woman
of thirteen, going on fourteen, and too mature for amusements
such as running about on the Promenade. There were infinite and
more fascinating adventures to be found in places like the bar's
holosuites. With this program alone, the girls had already learned
to pilot a little rowboat they had the computer conjure up.
Now, it was Ahn's idea to dramatize Elaine. They were studying
the classic Alfred Lord Tennyson poem in school that week, and
the class had analyzed and parsed it and torn it to pieces in
general until it was a wonder there was any meaning at all left
in it for them, but at least the fair lily maid and Lancelot and
Guinevere and King Arthur had become very real people to them,
and Ahn was devoured by secret regret that she had not been born
Human in the time of ancient Earth's Camelot. Those days, she
said, were so much more romantic than the present.
Ahn's plan was hailed with enthusiasm. The quartet had discovered
that if the boat were pushed off from the landing place it would
drift down with the current under the bridge and finally strand
itself on another headland lower down which ran out at a curve
in the pond. They had often gone down like this and nothing could
be more convenient for playing Elaine.
"Well, I'll be Elaine," said Ahn, yielding reluctantly,
for, although she would have been delighted to play the principal
character, yet her artistic sense demanded fitness for it and
this, she felt, her limitations made impossible. "Dana, you
must be King Arthur and Shidra will be Guinevere and Becky must
be Lancelot. But first you must be the brothers and the father.
We can't have the old dumb servitor because there isn't room for
two in the boat when one is lying down. We must pall the barge
all its length in blackest samite. That old black shawl of your
mother's will be just the thing, Shidra."
The black shawl having been procured, Ahn spread it across the
floor of the boat and then lay down on the bottom, with closed
eyes and hands folded over her chest.
"Oh, she does look really dead," whispered Dana nervously,
watching the still, grey little face under the flickering shadows
of the birches. "It makes me feel frightened, girls. Do you
suppose it's really right to act like this? My mother says that
all this pretending is abominably wicked."
"You shouldn't bring up your mother," said Ahn severely.
"This happened over a millennia before she was born. Now
Shidra, help me arrange this. It's silly for Elaine to be talking
when she's dead."
Shidra rose to the occasion. There was no cloth of gold for a
coverlet, but a pale yellow knit blanket was an excellent substitute.
A white lily was not obtainable just then, but the effect of a
tall blue iris placed in one of Ahn's folded hands was all that
could be desired.
"Now, she's all ready," said Shidra. "We must kiss
her quiet brows and, Becky, you say, 'Sister, farewell forever,'
and Dana, you say, 'Farewell, sweet sister,' both of you as sorrowfully
as you possibly can. Ahn, for goodness sake smile a little. You
know Elaine 'lay as though she smiled.' That's better. Now send
the boat off."
The boat was accordingly pushed off, scraping roughly over an
old embedded stake in the process. Becky and Shidra and Rislan
only waited long enough to see it caught in a current and headed
for the bridge before scampering up through the woods, across
the road, and down to the lower headland where, as Lancelot and
Guinevere and the King, they were to be in readiness to receive
the lily maid.
For a few minutes Ahn, drifting slowly down, enjoyed the romance
of her situation to the full. Then something happened not at all
romantic. The boat began to leak. In seconds it was necessary
for Elaine to scramble to her feet, pick up her gold coverlet
and pall of blackest samite and gaze blankly at a big crack in
the bottom of her barge through which the water was literally
pouring. That sharp stake at the landing had torn off the strip
of batting nailed on the boat. Ahn did not know this, but it did
not take her long to realize that she was in a dangerous plight.
At this rate the boat would fill and sink long before it could
drift to the lower headland. Where were the oars? Left behind
at the landing!
Ahn gasped in surprise, but did not panic. Standing up, she promptly
called for the computer to end the program. But instead of dissolving
to bare walls and floor, the space around her flickered, then
returned. Ahn then gave one gasping little scream which nobody
ever heard; she was white to the lips, but she did not lose her
self-possession. There was only one other chance - just one.
"I was horribly frightened," she told Quark and Nog
the next day. "It seemed like years while the rowboat was
drifting down to the bridge and the water rising in it every moment.
I prayed, most earnestly, but I didn't shut my eyes to pray, for
I knew the only way to be saved was to let the boat float close
enough to one of the bridge piles for me to climb up on it. You
know the piles are just old tree trunks and there are lots of
knots and old branch stubs on them. It was proper to pray, but
I had to do my part by watching out and right well I knew it.
I just said, 'Great Prophets, Divine Treasurer, and other great
deities. Please bring me close to a pile and I'll do the rest,'
over and over again. Under such circumstances you don't think
much about making a flowery prayer. But mine was answered, for
the boat bumped right into a pile for a minute and I flung the
blanket and the shawl over my shoulder and scrambled up on a big
providential stub. And there I was, clinging to that slippery
old pile with no way of getting up or down. It was a very unromantic
position, but I didn't think about that at the time. You don't
think much about romance when you have just escaped from a watery
grave. I said a grateful prayer at once and then I gave all my
attention to holding on tight, for I knew I should probably have
to depend on the aid of others in order to get back to dry land."
The boat drifted under the bridge and then promptly sank in midstream.
Dana, Shidra, and Becky, already awaiting it on the lower headland,
saw it disappear before their very eyes and had not a doubt but
that Ahn had gone down with it. For a moment they stood still,
color drained from their faces, frozen with horror at the tragedy;
then, shrieking at the tops of their voices, they started on a
frantic run out the holosuite doors. Meanwhile, Ahn, clinging
desperately to her precarious foothold, saw their flying forms
and heard their shrieks. Help would soon come, but meanwhile her
position was a very uncomfortable one.
The minutes passed by, each seeming an hour to the unfortunate
holosuite maid. Why didn't somebody come? Where had her friends
gone? Suppose they had fainted, one and all! Suppose nobody ever
came! Suppose she grew so tired and cramped that she could hold
on no longer! Ahn looked at the wicked green depths below her,
wavering with long, oily shadows, and shivered. Her imagination
began to suggest all manner of gruesome possibilities to her.
Then, just as she thought she really could not endure the ache
in her arms and wrists another moment, Tared Evron came rowing
under the bridge in a small boat of his own!
Evron glanced up and, much to his amazement, beheld a little grey
scornful face looking down upon him with big, frightened but also
scornful blue eyes.
"Kor Ahn! How DID you get there?" he exclaimed.
Without waiting for an answer he pulled close to the pile and
extended his hand. There was no help for it; Ahn, clinging to
Evron Tared's hand, scrambled down into the boat, where she sat,
drabbled and furious, in the stern with her arms full of dripping
shawl and wet blanket. It was certainly extremely difficult to
be dignified under the circumstances!
"So, what happened, Ahn?" asked Evron, taking up his
oars.
"We were playing Elaine" explained Ahn frigidly, without
even looking at her rescuer, "and I had to drift down to
Camelot in the barge...I mean the boat. The boat began to leak.
I tried to turn off the program but it wouldn't listen to me.
So, I climbed out on that pile there. The girls went for help.
Will you be kind enough to row me towards solid ground?"
Evron obligingly rowed to the landing and Ahn, disdaining assistance,
sprang nimbly on shore.
"I'm very much obliged to you," she said haughtily as
she turned away. But Evron had also sprung from the boat and now
laid a detaining hand on her arm.
"Ahn," he said hurriedly, "look here. Can't we
be friends now? I'm awfully sorry I made fun of your hair that
time. I only meant it as a joke. Besides, it happened so long
ago. I think your hair is awfully pretty now...honest I do. Let's
you and me be friends."
For a moment Ahn hesitated. She had an odd, newly awakened consciousness
under all her outraged dignity that the half-shy, half-eager expression
in Evron's dark eyes was something that was very good to see.
Her heart gave a quick, queer little beat. But the bitterness
of her old grievance promptly stiffened up her wavering determination.
That scene from years before flashed back into her recollection
as vividly as if it had taken place yesterday. Evron had called
her "spoonhead" and had brought about her disgrace before
the whole school. Her resentment, which to other and older people
might be as laughable as its cause, was in no whit allayed and
softened by time seemingly. She hated Evron Tared! She would never
forgive him!
"No," she said coldly, "I shall never be friends
with you, Tared Evron; and I don't want to be!"
"All right!" Evron sprang into his skiff with an angry
color in his cheeks. "I'll never ask you to be friends again,
Kor Ahn. And guess what? I don't care either!"
He pulled away with swift defiant strokes, and Ahn went up the
steep, ferny little path under the maples. She held her head very
high, but she was conscious of an odd feeling of regret. She almost
wished she had answered Evron differently. Of course, he had insulted
her terribly, but still... altogether, Ahn rather thought it would
be a relief to sit down and have a good cry. She was really quite
unstrung, for the reaction from her fright and cramped clinging
was making itself felt.
Halfway up the path she met Dana, Shidra, and Becky rushing back
into the holosuite in a state narrowly removed from positive frenzy.
Quark was nowhere to be found, and the bartenders had ignored
their pleas, stating that they didn't have time for the pranks
of silly little fe-males.
"Oh, Ahn," gasped Becky, fairly falling on the former's
neck and weeping with relief and delight, "Ahn...we thought...you
had...drowned...and that we were murderers...because we made...you
be...Elaine...oh, Ahn, how did you escape?"
"I climbed up on one of the piles," explained Ahn wearily,
"and Evron came along and brought me to land."
"How did Evron get in here?" asked Shidra.
"Does it really matter?" said Becky. "Oh, Ahn,
how splendid of him! Why, it's so romantic! Of course you'll speak
to him after this."
"Of course I won't," flashed Ahn, with a momentary return
of her old spirit. "And I don't want ever to hear the word
'romantic' again, Becky. I'm awfully sorry you were so frightened,
girls. It's all my fault. I feel sure I was born under an unlucky
star. Everything I do gets me or my dearest friends into a scrape.
We've gone Becky, and I have a presentiment that we'll not be
allowed use of the holosuites any more."
Ahn's presentiment proved more trustworthy than presentiments
are apt to do. Great was the consternation in the girls' households
when the events of the afternoon became known.
"Will you ever acquire some sense, Ahn?" groaned Quark.
"Oh, yes, I think I will, Mr. Quark," returned Ahn optimistically.
A good cry, indulged in the grateful solitude of her quarrters,
had soothed her nerves and restored her to her wonted cheerfulness.
"I think my prospects are brighter now than ever."
"I don't see how," said Quark.
"Well," explained Ahn, "I've learned a new and
valuable lesson today. Ever since I came to Deep Space Nine I've
been making mistakes, and each mistake has helped to cure me of
some great shortcoming. The affair of the cherry cola taught me
to check what's in the bottle. The Haunted Turbolift mistake cured
me of letting my imagination run away with me. The ear medicine
in the cake mistake cured me of carelessness in cooking. Dyeing
my hair cured me of vanity. I never think about my hair now -
at least, very seldom. And today's mistake is going to cure me
of being too romantic. I have come to the conclusion that it is
no use trying to be romantic on this station. It was probably
easy enough in towered Camelot a millennia ago, but romance isn't
appreciated now. I feel quite sure that you will soon see a great
improvement in me in this respect, Mr. Quark."
"I'm sure I hope so," said Quark skeptically.
But Nog, who had been sitting mutely in the corner, laid a hand
on Ahn's shoulder when his uncle had left the room.
"Don't give up all your romance, Ahn," he whispered
shyly, "a little can be a good thing...not too much, though...just
a little...a little can go a long way."
- - - - -
EPISODE XXIII
An Epoch in Ahn's Life
When Quark was called to a late evening meeting, Ahn was left to help close the bar. Since business had been slow the past few hours, the Dabo girls suggested she head home. But Ahn, ever the dedicated worker, insisted on doing her share. She helped the waiters clear the tables, and the girls lock the latinum in the safe. Then she swept the floors and powered down the holo-suites. She even got Morn to voluntarily vacate his beloved seat.
The atmosphere was relaxed, with talk ranging from alien jokes to station gossip. After little more than an hour, the weary workers filed out onto the Promenade. With pats on the shoulder and friendly "see you tomorrows," they scattered in different directions. Ahn headed to a turbolift alone. As it zipped towards the Habitat Ring, she sighed contentedly and closed her eyes. She thought of a rhyme Quark taught her during that first month on the station:
When she opened her eyes, the doors had opened, and Nog was standing on the other end. He was dressed in his night clothes, with a look on his face so urgent that Ahn instantly divined there was news to be told. But betray too eager curiosity she would not.
"Isn't this evening just like a dream, cousin? It makes me so glad to be alive. In the mornings I always think the mornings are best; but when evening comes I think it's lovelier still."
"It's a very fine evening," said Nog, "but oh, do I have some great news. Guess. I'll give you two chances."
"You got promoted," cried Ahn.
Nog shook his head. "Nono. This has more to do with you."
"Well I can't think of what it could be," Ahn insisted, "unless I got those roller-skates I've been asking for. Oh did I?"
"Even better," exclaimed Nog. "I spoke with Moogie today, and she says she's dying to meet you. She invited us all to Ferenginar to visit. What do you think of that!"
"Oh, Cousin," whispered Ahn, finding it necessary to lean back against the wall for support. "Is it really true? But I'm afraid Mr. Quark won't allow it. These days, he barely lets me walk the station alone, let alone leave it. Why, last month Becky invited me to go with her to New Bajor. She was going to visit her Uncle Quinn. If you recall, I had become rather good friends with him, and I wanted to go, but he said I'd be better off at home working. I was bitterly disappointed. I felt so heartbroken that I refused to read the fifth chapter of the Tenants of Commerce before going to bed. But I repented and got up in the middle of the night and did it."
"Don't worry," said Nog, "This is Ishka we're talking about...his OWN MOTHER. She'll be able to convince him. Even if he doesn't go, he'll have to let you. And I'd be coming too. We'll have the time of our lives. You know I haven't been back to Fereginar since my father became Nagus, and my mother thinks I'm deliberately trying to avoid her. Making matters worse, the waiters seem to go every single year. It's so aggravating to hear them talk about it."
"I'm not going to think about it at all until I know whether I can go or not," said Ahn resolutely. "If I did and then was disappointed, it would be more than I could bear. But in case I do go I'm very glad that my new coat will be ready by then. Mr. Quark didn't think I needed a new coat. He said though my old one was a bit tight, it would do for another season and that I ought to be satisfied with having some new dresses. Mr. Quark lets me choose my own clothes now, because he says he doesn't intend to spend the rest of his life dressing me. I'm so glad. It is so much easier to be good if you can make some decisions on your own. At least, it is easier for me. I don't know if it makes such a difference to other young people. As for the coat, the Klingon saleslady INSISTED I have a new one, so Mr. Quark ended up ordering one. It's to be done tomorrow afternoon, and I'm trying not to imagine myself boarding the shuttlecraft in my new red dress and coat, because I'm afraid it isn't right to imagine such things. But it just slips into my mind in spite of me. Of all the dresses I picked, the red one is the prettiest. It is one of those velvet ones that are all the rage on Bajor, with gold trim and long flared sleeves. I see you have new nightclothes, cousin, and they are quite elegant. A lot of people would not dare come onto the station wearing what they sleep in, but when I saw you standing there, it didn't look at all improper. Do you suppose it's wrong for us to think so much about our clothes? Mr. Quark says it's a huge waste of time. But it's such an interesting subject, isn't it?"
Quark said he didn't have time to go on vacation, but he agreed to let Nog take Ahn. Since the only vessel headed to that sector was a small Vulcan transport, it was necessary to make an early start. But Ahn counted it all joy, and was up at 05 00 hours on the appointed day. An inquiry from the computer revealed that the vessel, the T'Purek, was already docked on the lower ring.
Ahn was dressed by the time Nog arrived. They stopped at the Replimat for breakfast, but for her own part was much too excited to eat. After breakfast, they stopped by the bar to say goodbye, then they were on their way.
It was a long trip on board the T'Purek, made even longer by bland food and blander crewmembers. Once on Ferenginar however, things became much more interesting. Though lacking in warmth and bright blue skies, Ahn thought the world had its own special charm. Indeed, she delighted in riding over the moist roads as seldom-seen sunlight crept across brown shorn fields.
The air was cool and foggy, and little smoky mists curled through the valleys and floated off from the hills. Sometimes the road went through woods where hizmat trees were beginning to hang out greenish banners; sometimes it crossed rivers on bridges that made Ahn's flesh cringe with the old, half-delightful fear; sometimes it wound along a commerce strip, filled with clusters of stores and trading houses; again it mounted to hills whence a far sweep of curving upland or greyish sky could be seen; but wherever it went there was much of interest to discuss. It was late afternoon on the fourth day when they finally reached the capitol city.
First, Nog went to visit his mother, Prinadora. He had been to see her only a few times since she divorced his father some eighteen years before. While divorce is fairly common on Fereginar, Rom and Prinadora's case was considered the scandal of its day. Ferengi custom dictates that the male be awarded all assets, while the female only be paid a small monthly stipend. But with the help of a shrewd attorney, Prinadora managed to take everything from Rom except his son and the clothes on his back. She married said attorney shortly afterwards, and bought him a fashionable four-story townhouse. Ahn found Prinadora to be a slim, shrill voiced, scantily dressed woman, who didn't stop crying from the time Nog entered the door. "You could've been a PRINCE," she wailed. "But instead you wear that silly uniform and cavort with Hew-mans and Cardassians...no offense little girl."
"None taken," Ahn muttered, teeth clenched.
Their visit with Prinadora was blessedly short. Before nightfall, Nog and Ahn were making their way up the stairs of an old mansion, set back from the street behind gates covered in deep-burgundy vines. Moogie met them at the door with a twinkle in her large, sharp eyes.
"So you've come to see me at last, you Ahn-girl," she said. "Oh, what a sight! You're taller than I expected, too. And you're ever so much better looking than what my Quark described. But I dare say you know that without being told."
"Indeed I didn't," said Ahn radiantly. "I know I'm not so pale as I used to be, so I've much to be thankful for, but I really hadn't dared to hope there was any other improvement. I'm so glad you think there is, ma'am."
Moogie's house was furnished with great magnificence. There was a definite advantage to having been girlfriend of the late former Nagus and mother of the current one. The young Cardassian girl was rather abashed by the splendor of the residence where she and Nog would spend the next several days.
"Look at this parlor," Ahn whispered, coming through the entranceway. "There are patterns in the carpet, and carvings on the walls. And these curtains...they are so many colors all rolled into one. It is like having a rainbow inside your house. I never was in such a place before. I'd no idea it was so grand. I just wish Alojza Schumann could see this...he puts on such airs about his grandmother's estate on Earth."
"Moogie's made some changes," Nog noted, "This place was something when I was little, but now it's even more so. As much as I like it, I don't believe I could stay in a place like this every day of my life. I'd be too afraid of making a mess."
"I'd have to agree," Ahn said. "Besides, there are so many splendid things in this room that there is no scope for imagination. That is one consolation when you are poor...there are so many more things you can imagine about."
Their sojourns into town was something that Ahn spoke fondly of for many years. First, Moogie woke them at dawn, and took them to the Exhibition grounds for the day.
"It was splendid," Ahn related to Quark later. "I never imagined anything so interesting. I don't really know which display was the most interesting. I think I liked the jewelry the best. There was an ancient Herbitian tiara made from pure jevonite. They say it once belonged to a Cardassian princess. I never knew there were once princesses on Cardassia. I learn something new every day. The second best thing was the hovercar contest. A Mr. Zodor took first prize for his vintage Nebular racer, but Nog said that the only reason he won was because he bribed the judge. Nebulars are nowhere near as fast as Jupiters or even Andromedas. I wouldn't know though, I'd never even seen a hovercar until that day. How about you?"
"There must have been thousands of people there, Mr. Quark, but hardly any women. It made me feel dreadfully insignificant. And then Moogie...she said I must call her that...took us up to the grandstand to see the groundbeasts race. Cousin Nog wouldn't go; he believes racing animals is cruel and, as a Starfleet officer, thought it his bound duty to stay away. But there were so many people there I don't believe his absence was ever noticed. I don't think, though, that I ought to go very often to these races, because they can be TOO fascinating. Moogie got so excited that she offered to bet me 5 strips of latinum that the brown-striped beast would win. I didn't believe it would, but I couldn't bet anyway, because I had forgotten all my money back at the station. And to think, I had thought myself entirely prepared to make this trip. In the end, I'm glad I didn't bet, because that beast DID win, and I would have lost most of my savings. So you see that virtue was its own reward. We also saw a machine that sold fortunes. You dropped a coin in and a paper came out telling your fortune for you. Nog said it was a waste of money, but Moogie went ahead and gave me a coin. The machine said I would marry a large-lobed man who was very wealthy, and I would go across the water to live. I looked carefully at all the large-lobed men I saw after that, but I didn't care much for any of them, and anyhow I suppose it's too early to be looking out for him yet. Oh, it was a never-to-be-forgotten trip, Mr. Quark. When evening came, I was so tired that I couldn't sleep. Moogie put me in my very own guest room. It was an elegant room, but somehow sleeping there wasn't quite what I expected it to be. That's the worst part of growing up, and I'm beginning to realize it. The things you wanted so much when you were a child don't seem half so wonderful to you when you get them."
Finally, Nog brought Ahn to the palace to meet his father, Grand Nagus Rom. Ahn had been duly inspired when she first heard about him. Indeed, the life of Quark's brother was a strange mix of determination and luck. Due to his small ears, Rom was taught from childhood that he must take a lower place in society. Because of foolish superstition, everyone assumed that he lacked drive and intelligence. It was many years before he learned the error of such thinking. Once Rom began to believe in himself, others began to believe in him as well. It was that determination, that willingness to change, that helped Rom become a leader.
Though the business of ruling an empire was never-ending, Rom and his wife, a bubbly Bajoran named Leeta, took time out to hold a dinner in their honor. To Ahn the entire evening was a glittering vision of delight.
"Oh, Mr. Quark, it was beyond description. I was so excited I couldn't even talk, so you may know what it was like. I just sat in the dining hall in enraptured silence. Nagus Rom was very dignified, and Leeta was perfectly beautiful, dressed all in brocade with dangling earrings. After dinner, the adults all took part in a game of Tonga. Of all the players, Leeta was the most skillful. She bid it out against the others for hours, until they finally lost all their chips. At that moment, I felt like I do when I look up to the stars. Tears came into my eyes, but, oh, they were such happy tears. I was so sorry when it was all over, and I told Leeta that I didn't see how I was ever to return to common life again. She said she thought if we discussed it more over sugared tubers it might help me. It sounded odd, but to my surprise I found it true. The tubers were delicious, Mr. Quark, and it was so lovely and dissipated to be sitting there eating it at such a late hour. Leeta said she believed in destiny, and hers was to be First Lady of Ferenginar. Then she asked me what I thought my destiny was. I said I would have to think it over very seriously before I could give her an answer. So I thought it over after I went to bed. That is the way to think things out. And I came to the conclusion, Mr. Quark, that I wasn't destined for such a life and that I was glad of it. It's nice to be eating sugared tubers in a palace one in a while; but as a regular thing I'd rather be on the station, asleep in my own bed, but kind of knowing even in my sleep that the stars are but a glance away. I told Leeta so at breakfast the next morning and she laughed. I found that Leeta generally laughed at all I said, even when I said the most solemn things. I don't think I liked it that time because I wasn't trying to be funny. But, all in all, she was a most hospitable lady and I was treated most royally."
The day after that signaled the end of their visit. The return trip, however, was going to be much more comfortable. Instead of hitching a ride on some tiny space bucket, they were going back in one of the Imperial Transports. Moogie and the Nagus both came to see them off.
"I'm sorry we didn't have more time together, but I hope you both enjoyed yourselves," Rom said.
"We certainly have," said Nog. "And we promise to come back again soon ...with Quark."
"So what did you think of us, Ahn-girl?" asked Moogie.
"I've enjoyed every minute." said Ahn, throwing her arms impulsively about the old woman's neck and kissing her wrinkled cheek. If Quark were present, he would never have dared to do such a thing and would've been aghast at Ahn's impulsiveness. But Moogie was pleased, and she stood waving and watched as the transport lifted out of sight. After saying goodbye to her son and his wife, she headed back to her own secluded home. Once back in her parlor, she began to feel a sting of loneliness. She was truly surprised by her reaction. Like all Ferengi, Moogie had a xenophobic streak. If the truth must be told, she had never cared much for otherworlders at all. She valued them only as they were of service to her or amused her. Though she was not a blood relative, Ahn had secured a place in the old lady's heart. Moogie found herself dwelling less on Ahn's race and more on her fresh enthusiasms, her transparent emotions, her little winning ways, and the sweetness of her eyes and lips.
"I first thought my Quark was a complete fool when I heard that he'd adopted a girl out of an orphan asylum," she said to herself, "but I guess he didn't make such a big mistake after all. If I'd had a child like Ahn around here, perhaps MY life would be a bit more interesting."
Ahn found the trip home much more pleasant - not only because of the surroundings - but also because there was the delightful consciousness of what was awaiting her. It was late afternoon when the transport finally docked.
"Oh, it's good to be alive and HOME," breathed Ahn, as the airlock doors opened.
Nog stayed behind to retrieve their bags while Ahn ran blithely onto the Promenade. She didn't stop running until she entered the bar. There, she found a hot meal already waiting at a front table.
"So you're back?" said Quark matter-of-factly. He stood behind the counter, pouring a drink for a customer.
"Yes, and oh, it's so good to be back," said Ahn joyously. "I could kiss everything, even the metal floors. Oh, hasperat! You got it just for me?"
"Yes, I did," said Quark. "I thought you'd be hungry since those transports serve the worst food. Put your things down and eat before it gets cold. I'm glad you made it back in one piece. I admit, it's been kind of lonely here without you."
After eating, Ahn joined Quark by the counter, where she gave him a full account of the visit.
"I had a splendid time," she concluded happily, "and all your family is just the best. I feel that this trip marked an epoch in my life. But the best part of all turned out to be the coming home."