In Sunshine or In Shadow - Part 5
Creek Johnson & Nance Hurt
Disclaimer: Paramount owns what it owns. We own what We own. No infringement intended - hopefully, none taken.
"It's good to have the two of you back," said Commander Bryan Landis. "Even if things didn't go as well as you hoped."
"Thank you, Commander," replied Kira Nerys. "Although I'm not sure which I'm going to appreciate most, having my own bed back or having my own face again."
Mindful that they were still disguised as a pair of Vulcans, Julian and Kira had beamed straight to the Infirmary as soon as the Indianapolis had docked. There they had been met by Commanders Landis and Marshall. Kira had spent the first few moments briefing them on their frustrating and futile mission into the Gamma Quadrant.
"We were not able to pick up any trace of the Idanian ship. Which is hardly surprising considering we had no idea of their flight plans. With any luck they'll show up before too much longer. I trust the two of you have better news to report?"
Kira did not miss the look that passed between the two officers standing before her. As if by unspoken consent, Landis began.
"Where do you want to start?" he asked.
"The beginning is always appropriate. The recording?"
"It's genuine, but not in the way we expected. Nog, Vonda, and Dax were able to rig the recording to run in a holosuite."
"A holosuite?" asked Kira.
"Yes. They thought it would amplify any imperfections in the recording technique. What they were able to determine is that apparently the recording itself was created in a holosuite with actors playing the parts. Upon closer examination, the Romulan isn't injured at all. Yes, there is phaser fire, but no blood what so ever."
"That also explains," said Marshall, "the rather convenient loss of audio. An actual phaser blast and a holographic phaser blast leave different audio signatures. Close enough so that they can go undetected by the average humanoid ear, but distinct differences to audio scanners."
"And what about the actors in this little drama?"
"That we still don't know Colonel," said Landis. "It's not beyond the realm of possibility that the Romulan is merely a holocharacter. We still have not been able to identify him. The same goes for the person we are assuming to be Odo. Although according to Quark, it's either him or someone who's been inside his head."
"Quark?"
"Well, Colonel," said Marshall. "As you are aware, there are only two people on this station who are in a position to make a determination with any certainty. You were off station at the time, so the investigating team went with the expert at hand, who just so happens to be our esteemed local tavern keeper. Quark swears it's Odo right down to the appropriate tone of voice."
"Right," said Kira. "What then about the Cardassian matter?"
"That," said Marshall, "Is an all together horse of an entirely different color. The late, and I might add unlamented, Mr. Levet is most certainly dead. However of the dozen or so witnesses to the meeting between Levet and the person we are assuming to be Odo only one remains. By the time I arrived on Cardassia, the Jem'Hadar and the Vorta supervising them had been rotated back to the Gamma Quadrant. The engineer in charge of the team swears he recognized Odo from the brief time he spent here during the Occupation. He freely admits he had no dealings with Odo and never spoke to him in person the entire time he was on the station. However, he is absolutely certain it is the same man."
"Very well," said Kira, "It looks like it boils down to getting our hands on this other Odo. Any luck with that?"
"Lieutenant Rozko, came up with a theory," said Landis, "which we think just might work. He was able to take a list of all known reports regarding Odo appearances and come up with a list of ships that appear in the same areas at the same time."
"But there must leave hundreds of ships."
"That's what we thought. However, if you then take into consideration ships that were docked at Deep Space Nine, or close enough to Bajoran space, at the same time Quark claims to have seen Odo, you drop the list down to five."
"Five we can handle," said Kira. "Have any of these ships returned?"
"Two. The third is due in a couple of days."
"While the suspect ships are docked," said Marshall, "We have been keeping Quark's under surveillance, but so far there has been no sign of our target."
"I'm sure Quark isn't happy about that."
"Delightfully, no. However, during the surveillance, we have a transporter on standby trained on a spot on the second level where Quark claims Odo habitually appears. Should our quarry be real and not some figment of Quark's imagination, we will be in a position to beam him directly into a holding cell in Security."
"Well done, gentlemen."
"Excuse me," said Landis. "Has anyone given any thought as to what we are to do with him, should our other Odo appear? I'm no security officer, but last time I checked kidnapping was against the law."
"I suggest," replied Marshall, "we hold him on suspicion of murder."
"I concur," said Kira.
"But Colonel, on what authority?" asked Landis. "The Cardassians just want him for questioning and the recording was faked, no one actually died."
"We know that. He knows that. However, in order to prove his innocence, he'll have to confess that the recording is a fake."
"In which case," said Marshall, "he will be confessing to criminal impersonation and fraud. The poetic term for it, Mr. Landis, is called being hoist on your own petard."
"That just leaves the elusive Mr. Dunlap. Any word on that front, Marshall?"
"Nothing concrete, Colonel. Rumor has it that Mr. Dunlap is behind a contract placed before the Orion Syndicate, but we have been unable to confirm or deny the story."
"A contract for what?"
"Odo. Dead or alive."
"I see. Again, congratulations gentlemen on a job well done," said Kira. "Now, if there is nothing else, I'll be in my office."
"Did I miss anything?" asked Julian upon entering the room. "Sorry I took so long, but restoring my own face was a bit more difficult than I had imagined."
"There is one other thing," said Landis, becoming visibly uncomfortable.
"Well?" asked Kira.
"We thought it best," said Marshall, "to wait until Dr. Bashir was ready to join us before bringing it up."
"And?"
"Regarding that Idanian ship you were expecting…."
Lights, instruments, work surfaces, they were all the same to him, their purpose had no meaning. Although, in the back of his troubled mind, there was something very familiar about this place. What was it? He had the vague impression of having once lain on a bed. A dark haired man holding some instrument. Not the pointy eared man, although he too had dark hair, some other man. And of someone talking incessantly. He could not remember the talker. Maybe it was all a dream. A dream and he would eventually wake up and remember everything and everything would make sense.
A dream. He held on to that thought like a talisman. If it were all a dream, then he no longer needed to pay attention, no longer needed to attempt to make sense out of the confusion that surrounded him. If it were a dream, he could just allow events to unfold. Like a leaf fallen in a stream, events would just carry him along without requiring any effort on his part, no thought or action necessary. Yes, all a dream, wherein he and the pointy eared man moved through a landscape of strangers, in search of - in search of what? He was searching for something wasn't he?
He felt something jostle him and he heard a voice. It was the pointy eared man and he was urging someone to get up. He listened carefully but no one answered. Again he was jostled and again the pointy eared man spoke, but again no one answered. He felt himself become irritated. Why didn't the person just answer and leave him alone? His irritation grew as he realized he was becoming distinctly uncomfortable. It was as though he was being shocked by electrical currents. He tried to move away from the source of discomfort but no matter which way he slid it still found him. When he had taken as much as he could bear, he leapt away from it with all his strength and found himself falling. He threw open his arms and legs in an attempt to stop himself and suddenly realized he was standing. He opened his eyes in surprise.
He was standing in a room, much like any other. Lights, instruments, work surfaces, they were all the same to him, their purpose had no meaning. Although, in the back of his troubled mind, there was something very familiar about this place. What was it? The pointy eared man was there. The pointy eared man handed him some clothing and told him to get dressed. He did as he was told and the pointy eared man prattled on about something, but he could not discern who the man was talking to. There was no one else in the room but the two of them. He began to grow troubled that the pointy eared man might be speaking to him. That he might expect an answer. He tried to focus on the words in case an answer was expected, but they came at him all in a jumble. Two words though leapt out of the tumble of meaningless sound and his mind latched on to it with the intensity of a tractor beam. Kira Nerys!
He turned to the pointy eared man, but the pointy eared man was gone. He covered his face with his hands. He knew that name. He was vaguely pleased with himself that he knew it was a name. He clinched his fists and pressed them forcefully against his forehead. Think, he commanded his scattered wits. Think, this is important even if this does all turn out to be a dream. Kira Nerys, this means something. Something important. But what? He heard footsteps approaching from the corridor. It was probably just the pointy eared man.
Someone spoke in a low voice. He turned toward the speaker and found a woman standing not far behind him. She was not all that tall, but the way she held herself made her seem taller. She was wearing a red uniform. Red, that had some significance he was sure of it. He gazed at her large eyes, her generous mouth, and the wrinkles across the bridge of her nose.
"Kira?" he asked tentatively.
She opened her mouth to speak but no sound issued forth. With a shake of her head, she spun on her heel and left the room.
This puzzled him. He followed her as far as the door of the room. Was he supposed to follow her? He stopped at the threshold. He could not remember ever leaving this room before. Of course, he could not remember ever entering the room either. Maybe if he just peaked? He leaned out of the door and looked down the corridor. There she was, standing with a group of men. One of the men saw him and pointed in his direction. He did not recognize any of them. Suddenly a little afraid, he ducked back into the room where he felt safe.
Commander Bryan Landis had expected an explosion. He had expected his head would have been ripped right off his shoulders and handed to him on a platter. He had not been on Deep Space Nine more than a few hours when stories about the Colonel's famous temper had started to reach him. In all the months he had worked with her, he had been fortunate not to be on the receiving end of her anger. He had expected his luck had just run out.
He was wrong.
"That went well don't you think?" he asked Marshall. "I mean about not telling her about our guests until last. I mean, it didn't make a lot of sense just to blurt it out without going over the other details first."
They were following the Colonel and Dr. Bashir as they made their way to the Defiant.
"As well as could be expected, Mr. Landis," replied Marshall. "Of course congratulations may be a bit premature. From the set of those shoulders and although I cannot see her face from here, the way people are rushing to get out of her way, I would say it really all depends on what happens once we introduce her to our guests now does it not?"
It did not take them long to reach the air lock. Once through the security detail posted in the air lock and the security shields lowered, they were met in the corridor leading to the infirmary by Doctor Gevrik.
"Perhaps," said Gevrik once introductions had been completed, "we should discuss this in the ward room. It's a bit crowded in the infirmary and that could have an unsettling effect on the patient."
"I want to see him first," replied Kira. Without waiting for an answer, she headed down the corridor.
"But, Colonel," began Gevrik.
"Commander," said Bashir, "it's best to let her go. We can wait here."
They did not have to wait for long. Kira had no more than entered the infirmary before she re-emerged and quickly rejoined them.
"That was quick," said Landis. "Why she looks like she's just seen a ghost."
"I belive she has," remarked Marshall.
"Doctor Gevrik," barked Kira as she approached the group. "If this is some type of joke, I promise you I do not find it the least bit funny."
"I'm sorry Colonel," said Gevrik. "I am at a loss…"
"My God!" exclaimed Bashir. A movement further down the corridor caught his attention. He had been looking down the hall half expecting to see what it was that had upset Kira. The what had just poked his head outside the door. "Bareil? It can't be. He's been dead for years!"
"But just yesterday he looked like Sisko," said Landis. "I don't understand."
"The Benjamin Sisko?" asked Bashir.
"I think, Mr. Gevrik," said Kira. "You have some explaining to do."
"Although the cause of the illness still has yet to be determined," said Gevrik, "the physical manifestations appear to only effect his memory. He, quite literally wakes up in a new world every day. He has no concept of who, or what, he is. I am beginning to believe the changes in his physical appearance are an unconscious attempt to communicate in some way. Communicate what, I do not know."
The others gathered around the table in the ward room shifted uncomfortably.
"One thing bothers me, Doctor," said Kira, "Except on one occasion when he imitated a member of this own species, the Odo we know has never been able to successfully imitate a humanoid. How long has he been taking the form of other people?"
"It started a few weeks after he was found to be ill. First, he had apparently forgotten how to form clothing. Shortly after that it became apparent he had forgotten what he looked like. At that point, he began to form as a Vulcan, which was understandable as he was constantly in the company of Vulcans. He remained appearing as a Vulcan until the Idanian ship came through the wormhole."
"Which is when he took on the appearance of Captain Sisko?" asked Bashir.
"Exactly."
"And Bareil?"
"Only today."
"I can see why you didn't want him to be seen," said Bashir. "Sisko or Bareil, he'd hardly be inconspicuous around here."
"And you cannot vouch for the fact that this is indeed Odo?" asked Kira.
"No. As I explained to Commanders Landis and Marshall, I can only vouch that he has been in my custody constantly from the moment we left the Founders Home World. Considering the nature of his species, I can only say he is who we understand Odo to be."
"All things considered, we thought this was the best place for him," said Landis. "It's quiet, secure, and there are medical facilities available for Dr. Gevrik's work. But, if you'd like us to move them."
"No," replied Kira. "If it's okay with Dr. Bashir, I'd just as soon they stay here. And I want a guard on duty, outside the infirmary at all times."
"Let me assure you, Colonel," said Gevrik, "He is not a threat to anyone."
"I understand that Dr. Gevrik. But the safety of this station is my responsibility. It became clear to us on our way back from the Gamma Quadrant, the Jem'Hadar were looking for someone and that someone may just be sitting in the infirmary right this minute." She rose from her seat. "Dr. Gevrik, Julian, I'll leave you to it then."
She was suddenly very tired and overcome by an overwhelming desire to be away form here, to distance herself from the whole matter. She knew, that ultimately, she would have to get involved, but that could wait. Walking into the infirmary and seeing the face of Bareil rather than Odo had shaken her more than she cared to admit. All she wanted right now, what she needed, was to be alone with her thoughts.
It had taken Julian Bashir a while to get used to being in the same room with a living, breathing dead man. Well, he corrected himself, not exactly breathing, but living nonetheless. Of course, he knew, as a man of science, that the entity lurking in the corner of the infirmary was not a ghost. But some primal instinct, borne in the early stages of primitive man, still caused him to feel just a bit uneasy every time he glanced his way.
"It is a pity," he said having finished scanning Gevrik's complete report, "We were not able to get the entire file while we were still in the Gamma Quadrant, but now I'm not so sure it would have made any difference. I'm as puzzled by all this as you are."
"As intriguing as changeling anatomy is Doctor, there is something to be said for being humanoid. Blood, internal organs, a brain, all assist greatly in the diagnostic process."
"I agree. Well, from the security recording it does appear the cause is some type of chemical, although I doubt seriously it was self inflicted."
"I concur it is highly unlikely. Perhaps it is the work of the other Odo you told me about."
"Most likely. And you tried silicate detox?"
"That was our first option. I am sorry to report that it only made him physically ill and had no effect on his mental degeneration."
"What I don't understand," said Bashir. "Is how this substance, whatever it is, can only effect his mental state. His morphagenic matrix is stable, nucleotide sequences show slight degradation. The only other physical manifestation is a decrease in his specific density. All the other chemical substances I've had to remove from Odo in the past, primarily effected his morphagenic matrix. I guess we should only be glad he hasn't a greater decline in his specific density as it is."
"I have a theory about that."
"Do tell."
"While on the Idanian ship, we were hidden away in a room which had not been designed with all the insulation necessary for passenger compartments. In one corner of the room in particular it was possible to noticeably feel the vibrations of the ship. Odo, I am sorry I do not know what else to call him, was attracted to that spot from the first day of our journey. And, as you pointed out, his nucleotide sequences show a slight degradation as well as the specific density level. However, the vibration of the ship appears to have contributed to a slight improvement in the levels you read now. As far as there being any improvement in his mental state, I cannot say for sure. He rarely speaks, however, I have noticed he does not appear to be as withdrawn. I have continued using a vibration therapy during his regenerative cycles."
"Well, it's certainly a start."
It was as though the pulse of the station has slowed in preparation for sleep. The Promenade was empty. Shops were closed for the night and even the Security Office was dark. A soft light glowed in the doorway to Quarks as a few Feregni bustled around cleaning up from the nights business. In the back of the Security Office, Commander John Marshall sat watching a bank of monitors.
"Is there something on your mind Colonel?" he asked without looking up. "It is entirely none of my concern, of course, I just hate to see a waste of good shoe leather."
"What?" Kira Nerys halted her pacing in mid stride. "Sorry, patience isn't exactly one of my virtues."
"In my line of work it is generally the other way around."
"What do you mean?"
"I generally find I do not have much patience with the virtuous. A slight attempted at a joke, Colonel," he said meeting her blank stare.
"You sound just like," her voice faltered, "like your predecessor. It must be a common trait among security officers." She glanced at him nervously. He returned her gaze through narrowed eyes. She thought for a moment he was going to attempt to say something comforting. She dreaded being comforted. A moment passed in which neither of them moved. Much to her relief, he lowered his eyes once more to the display in front of him.
"Oh, I have know a few jovial security officers in my time," he said, "but I have spent my career studiously avoiding them."
She was just about to ask him why when he abruptly held up a hand to stall her. Marshall spoke softly into his comm badge.
"Flato."
"I see him," she replied. "But he's not quite in position yet."
"Vonda?" asked Marshall.
"Ready when you are. Just give the signal."
Seconds passed like minutes. In the sudden silence, Kira recognized an old tension, caught between the desire to run and the necessity for patient stillness. All battles are the same, she reminded herself, be it wits or weapons, timing was the key.
"Now," ordered Marshall.
Kira turned towards the holding cell. She closed her eyes and took a couple of deep breaths. When she opened her eyes again, he was standing in the middle of the cell, looking puzzled.
"Nerys?" he asked, taking a step towards her. "What's the meaning of this?"
"I think you know," she replied softly, her eyes devouring his face. "Mr. Marshall, the.." again her voice faltered, "the prisoner is yours."
"Mr. Odo," said Marshall stepping forward, "Officer of the Bajoran Militia, Former Chief of Station Security of the Combined Federation and Bajoran Outpost Deep Space Nine currently on extended leave, I hereby place you under arrest on suspicion of murder, two counts…"
"Nerys?" he asked again, cutting Marshall off in mid sentence.
Unable to bear any more, she turned away. "I'm sorry Odo," she said not looking at him, and left the room. She entered the Security Office to find Flato and Quark engaged in an argument.
"We'll just see what the Colonel has to say about that," said Quark emphatically. "Colonel, I request permission to see the prisoner."
"Request denied," she said dismissing him without so much as a glance. "Flato, I want a guard on duty in the holding cell area around the clock. And no visitors."
"With pleasure," said Flato.
"Surely you don't mean me?" said Quark. "I've known Odo longer than anyone. I could…"
"I mean especially you, Quark," said Kira.
"But."
"No buts. Look this is neither the time nor the place. Now, go home."
Quark studied her for a moment and conceded defeat. "Fine. I'm going." He had reached the door when she stopped him.
"Quark,"
"What?"
"Not a word of this to anyone."
Quark turned to face her. "Colonel, I am disappointed in you. That you would suspect me of all people of engaging in idle gossip…"
"And no betting pools."
"Now that's not fair!"
"Quark," she warned.
"Okay, fine! But next time you want to use my bar.. Okay, okay, I'm going."
"What's all the racket?" asked Marshall as he entered from the holding cell area.
"Quark," replied Flato.
"Wonderful." He turned to Kira. "Well Colonel, we have caught him. We have charged him. Now comes the inevitable question of what do we do with him now?"
"I have no idea," she replied, collapsing into a chair. "Quite frankly, I never really expected this to work."
"The first question, if I may?" asked Marshall. "The first question is how well can a holding cell keep in a changeling?"
"He shouldn't be able to get out without help," replied Kira. "Odo helped design those cells. If he couldn't get out no one can."
"So you don't think this is our Odo then?"
"I honestly don't know. If it is, he'll understand and cooperate. If it isn't, he came here for a reason and the longer we keep him in custody the more anxious he will be to get out."
"Wouldn't it be better to keep him in the brig on the Defiant?" asked Flato. "Word's bound to get out."
"No," said Kira. "To the best of our knowledge he doesn't know about our guests on the Defiant. I want to keep it that way if possible."
"I agree," said Marshall. "If he's going to make a move, I'd just as soon he make it here and not on the Defiant."
"And what if neither of them are the real Odo?" asked Flato.
It was the question they were all dreading.
"We'd be hip deep in alligators, now wouldn't we?" said Marshall. He met their blank faces. "Never mind. If, and we are all hoping this isn't the case, neither of them is the real Odo, then we certainly do not want them to know about each other. One renegade changeling can do a lot of damage."
"Two would be a disaster," concluded Kira.