In Sunshine or In Shadow - Part 6
Creek Johnson & Nance Hurt
Disclaimer: Paramount owns what it owns. We own what we own. No infringement intended - hopefully, none taken.
Kira Nerys sat in her office and stared at the screen before her. Work, she thought, work will save you. Fortunately, having been away from her duties for so long, Kira had plenty of work to occupy her. Work took care of her days, but her nights were another problem.
She hated going back to her quarters, but she didn't want the company of others either. With a sigh, she shut down her office for the night and crossed Ops heading for the turbolift. She could feel the eyes of the night shift on her back, and she cursed silently. Since when did she become an object of pity? She resisted the urge to turn around and glare at them. They were only concerned about her, she reminded herself, concerned she was working too hard. Thankfully, they had not discovered the reason why, but she still hated the whole situation. She was grateful when the lift slid into place providing her a means of escape. However, total escape was apparently not possible, for in the lift was Ezri.
"Kira," she said. "I was just coming to look for you. You haven't forgotten about dinner have you?"
"No," Kira lied. "I just thought what with Julian so busy these days, you might want to call it off so you could spend some time alone."
"Nonsense. Well, I take that back. I had hoped, but Julian insisted. He wants to talk to you about something."
"I don't think I'm really in the mood to talk."
"Julian said you'd say that and I'm under orders to tell you that as your personal physician, he is ordering you to attend. You know how he gets."
Kira held up her hands in defeat. "Fine. I surrender. Lead on."
Quarks was crowded. Sitting at a table as far away from the door as possible, the two Finneans nursed their drinks.
"Don't look," said Grgor. "I told you not to look."
"If you didn't want me to look," replied Zit, "then why did you say don't look. When you say don't look, it's an open invitation to look."
"Where did you learn that?"
"It's common knowledge. People say don't look and mean look all the time. It's very confusing."
"Name one instance when someone says don't look when they mean look."
"Don't look now, but your pants are on fire," said Zit.
"What! Oh, that is not fair."
"You looked didn't you? What am I not supposed to be looking at anyway?"
Grgor attempted to look casual. "It's him, over there at the bar."
"Who, Quark?" asked Zit. "Of course it's him. He's here all the time, he owns the place."
"No, not Quark. The guy he's talking to."
"What about him?"
"It's Him I tell you."
"Of course it's him. We've seen him all over the place. What's so special about tonight?"
"What's so special is that I think he's coming over here."
"Well, he said he'd get in contact with us. Maybe tonight he will. Maybe he won't. It's not for us to say now is it?" commented Zit.
Despite her initial misgivings, Kira found dinner with Julian and Ezri to be a welcome distraction. It wasn't until Ezri had served the after dinner wine, that Julian sat down next to Kira with a murmured "We have to talk."
"As I suspected," said Kira, "you were liquoring me up in order to give me the bad news."
"Not bad news as such," replied Julian "Just not terribly encouraging news either."
"Okay, so, tell me."
"We know he's been poisoned with some type of chemical, but we can't find any traces of it in his system. If he were human, I'd say he suffered a stroke, or some other neurological disorder, but as he has no centralized brain functions, we're rather stumped. We've tried purging his system using various methods such as a centrifuge, which appears to elevate his specific density and stabilize his nucleotide sequences, but for a short period of time only. The effects wear off quickly."
"And mentally, is he lucid during these periods?"
"Hard to say as he is in his liquid state while he's in the centrifuge. By the time, he's settled down enough to reform, the effects have worn off," said Julian with a note of apology in his voice.
"So, motion seems to help," said Ezri.
"Yes, vibrations in particular seems to do him the most good," replied Julian. "Gevrik and I have asked Vonda to see if she can rig up some type of vibrating table or chair so we can work with Odo while he's still in humanoid form. That way we will be able to see how lucid he becomes as a result."
"So, you think it is Odo then?" asked Kira staring into her wine.
"Honestly, I don't know," he confessed. "I wish I did."
Everyone fell silent for a moment.
"Is that all?" asked Kira eventually.
"There is one other thing," said Julian. "Gevrik was asking for you the other day. I know you're busy, but if you could find a moment, it could be of help."
"Help how?"
"Well, quite frankly, Odo doesn't show much interest in us, we thought perhaps he might be a bit more responsive to you."
"Does he still look like - ?"
"No. As a matter of fact, that's quite interesting. Gevrik thinks it's all a way of subconsciously trying to communicate. I don't think he has the foggiest idea of who I am, but the other day one of the guards called me by name and when Odo reformed, he formed as Miles."
"Miles O'Brien?" asked Ezri.
"Yes. Gave me the start of my life, I can tell you. But even more remarkable," said Julian clearly warming to his theme. "Once we started using instruments on him - such as the centrifuge - Odo started imitating Dr. Mora. So, you see there may be something in Gevrik's theory."
"This would be highly amusing if it weren't so tragic," remarked Ezri.
"I agree," said Kira, rising abruptly. "Well, Julian I appreciate the update, but I really should be going. It's late."
"There is one other thing."
"I'm hearing that a lot lately. What's your one other thing?"
"It occurred to me the other day that, in the past, I'd always had Odo's consent when doing any testing on him. This time I don't. Now, I checked and in his files, he lists you as his next of kin and has given you power of attorney. I just wanted to assure you, that if the situation becomes life threatening, we would of course, seek your permission before, proceeding."
It was a busy night in Quarks. Marshall stood at the bar and scanned the room. Rich man, poor man, beggar man, thief, he thought, they were all here. The lure of the Gamma Quadrant brought them in droves.
"Commander Marshall," said Quark sliding up behind the bar. "What can I do for you this evening?"
"You can give me a large scotch and," he said leaning closer, "you can tell me about those two." He indicated a pair of Finneans sitting in the far corner.
"Those two? They're harmless. Been here for a week, looking to sign on with a freighter that will take them into the Gamma Quadrant."
"Why, then, are they still here? There are ships leaving for the Gamma Quadrant daily."
"It's the increased Jem'Hadar patrols. Most sensible Captains don't want to go into a potentially troubled area with unknown crew. Can't say I blame them. If you don't mind my asking, Commander, the bar is full of bums looking for a way into the Gamma Quadrant, what's so special about those two?"
"Nothing. Let us just say I have a particular aversion to unemployed Finneans. Now, if you will excuse me, I believe I will go over and introduce myself."
"Suit yourself."
Kira stood in the hall outside Bashir's quarters uncertain where to go. Damn him, she thought, I'll never get to sleep now. She started toward the turbolift, each footfall punctuated with a damn. Damn you Odo, she muttered under her breath, when did you start thinking of us as family and why didn't you say anything?
She knew she should be flattered. Friends, most certainly. Lovers, most definitely. But family? They were both orphans in their own way. Each had learned to accept a life of independent solitude. Friends and more intimate relationships came and went as fate decreed. But family? Family held an almost sacred meaning for them both.
Marshall made his way through the crowds, certain in the knowledge the two Finneans were aware of his approach. Good, he thought, it would not do for them to get too comfortable.
"Good evening, gentlemen," he said. "The bar, as you can see is a bit crowded this evening, mind if I join you?"
"Suit yourself," said Grgor.
"So, you boys been on the station long?"
"No, just about a week," said Zit. "We're looking for work."
"Don't suppose you're hiring," said Grgor.
"Well, that would depend would it not," replied Marshall. "What line of business are you boys in anyway?"
"Odd jobs mostly," replied Grgor. Zit found this funny. He sobered up quickly once he caught the gleam in Marshall's eye.
"Look boys," said Marshall. "We get a lot of tramps coming through here looking for work. Usually I am very tolerant as long as you abide by the rules of the Station."
"And what would those be?" asked Zit.
"You can stop by the Security Office and pick up a set, but I will give you the short course right now. No weapons on the Promenade. No vagrancy. No public intoxication. No starting fights. Play by the rules and you may be sure to have a pleasant visit. Ignore the rules and you will most assuredly find yourself in one of my holding cells. Have I made myself clear?"
"Sure thing," said Gror.
"Good," Marshall stood. "I trust then that you will have a pleasant evening."
"What do you suppose that was all about?" asked Zit, as they watched Marshall thread this way through the crowd.
Flato Rey cursed her luck for having drawn the late shift.
"I suppose," said the voice, "you find this highly amusing, Captain, having your old boss in one of his own holding cells."
Flato resisted the urge to glance up from the security display she had been studying. The lights in the holding cell had been dimmed in part to accommodate the lighting most preferred by changelings and in part to hide the identity of the prisoner within. Despite the darkness, Flato had been aware for sometime that she was being stared at, studied was more like it. Not that being stared at by prisoners was a new sensation for her. Each species reacted to confinement differently. Some paced like caged animals, some slept, some talked. This one wanted to talk.
"Not particularly," replied Flato.
"I suppose this is what your Commander, Marshall is it, your Commander Marshall would describe as poetic justice."
"You sounded just like him there for a minute."
"Really?" The voice fairly dripped with sarcasm. "Like Marshall or like Odo?"
"Like Marshall. Why wouldn't you sound like yourself?"
"Captain please do not play this game with me. I am being held on suspicion of two murders I know nothing about. That means there are witnesses who swear I have done something criminal. I know I have not. From an investigators viewpoint, that means that either I am telling a lie, or there is someone is out there who looks enough like me to be not only convincing, but creditable. Very convincing, or you would not be entertaining doubts about my identity, which you obviously do, or I would not be here under lock and key. Really, Flato, you ought to know me better."
"And you, sir, ought to remember the first rule of criminal investigation."
"Trust no one." He gave a short bitter laugh. "No, I haven't forgotten. I also haven't forgotten how much you hate cell duty, so you should be grateful to have a prisoner that requires no food, or other maintenance considerations typical to humanoids."
Voices could be heard in the outer office. Flato glanced toward the door. If I'm lucky, she thought, my relief is here a little early. She was starting to find this little game to be tiring.
"If that's Quark," said the prisoner, "Tell him if he is here to gloat, I will file charges of harassment the moment I am released."
The door slid open and Kira entered. With a nod she acknowledged Flato.
"Where's Marshall?" she asked.
"The Commander is on extended rounds." Extended rounds was the code word they had devised to describe the Defiant and her guests. "I could call him if you wish," she volunteered.
"No, that won't be necessary." Kira jerked her head toward the holding cell. "I'd like to see the prisoner. Alone."
Flato cleared her throat. "Are you sure, that's a good idea, Colonel. If anything were to happen, Mr. Marshall would have my hide."
Flato felt decidedly uncomfortable under Kira's scrutiny. "Very well," Kira said eventually. "Understood, but stay here and don't come any closer unless called."
"Yes, sir," remarked a relieved Flato. "One other thing, Colonel, I'd feel a lot better if the lights in the cell were brought up to normal levels, if that's okay with the prisoner?"
"Fine," called the prisoner.
"He doesn't miss a trick does he?" asked Flato in a whisper.
"Not often," Kira whispered back. "Keep your phaser handy just in case."
She saw Flato's almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment and turned toward the cell. With the light now up to standard levels she could clearly see him sitting in the back of the cell. Releasing the force field, she stepped forward into the cell. He rose from the bunk but came no closer, apparently prepared to let her take the lead.
"Constable," she said with a nod. "It's been awhile."
"Colonel. Indeed it has."
In the awkward pause that followed, she found herself studying his face. The same blue eyes, the triangular line of his jaw, the slightly protruding ears and was once again reminded of a picture she had once seen of a terran lion cub. Crossing his arms and with a slight tilt of the head, he asked, "Well, do I pass inspection?"
"I'm sorry," she replied. "I don't know what to say."
"I can't say I blame you," Odo replied, his manner softening slightly. "I don't know what I would do if our positions were reversed. However, you can't seriously believe I'm capable of murder." She turned away from him. "Nerys? Look at me. Do you really think it possible I could take a life and just walk away?"
With a helpless gesture she sat on the bunk. "I don't know what to think anymore. You leave the Gamma Quadrant without a word to anyone, you show up here and you make no effort to contact me. When reports start coming in implicating you in the murder of two people, what was I supposed to think?"
He sat down next to her. "I understand this is difficult for you," he said softly. "But tell me this, what do you believe?"
She turned to look him in the eye. "I believe," she replied. "The Odo I know is innocent." There was a slight reaction in his eyes, was it relief or something else? He said nothing.
"However," she continued. "The evidence against you is pretty damning. What do you expect me to do?"
He leaned towards her and took her hands in his. Mentally she braced herself, hoping her face gave nothing away.
"Nerys, you have to let me go. Once word gets out I'm here the station will be in danger. You will be in danger."
"Well, that's a rather extraordinary statement." She allowed a touch irritation to rise in her voice. "Am I to be allowed an explanation?"
He paused as though struggling with his thoughts. "Shortly after I returned to the Link," he said. "It became apparent to me that there existed a faction within the Link that viewed my presence as a threat. I dismissed it at first thinking that they would eventually come to accept me. However, with my support of a Federation Diplomatic facility and the proposed Federation science station in the Gamma Quadrant, tensions have increased. Not wishing to be a dividing force among my people, I left."
"You left?"
"The Link not the planet and only for short periods of time. Eventually, I started spending more time with the Federation representatives, only returning to the link to regenerate."
"Did that help?" she asked placing her hand upon his.
'No. Unfortunately, this was seen as an even greater betrayal among my detractors. Eventually, I became aware that those who found me a threat would only be appeased with my permanent absence from the Link, and I left the planet."
"But why didn't you come here?"
"At first, I thought I would just stay away until the issue of the Federation science station was settled and then I could return. Although, I've lately become aware that some of my detractors will not be happy until I'm dead."
"Come on Odo, these are your people you are talking about. Dead? Isn't that a bit extreme?"
"I thought so at first. But two attempts on my life have convinced me otherwise."
"Why didn't you come here straight away?" she insisted. "We would have protected you."
"Nerys," he replied. "You know as well as I do that the Link in some way blames you for my not being quite what they want me to be. This was the first place they would look. And you and I both know you can't be forced to tell what you don't know in the first place. As long as you had no idea where I was, I felt you would be safe."
"So, what was your plan then?"
"I thought if I stayed constantly on the move there was no way anyone could find me. I see now that I was sadly mistaken. I also see now how far my enemies will go to destroy not only me but my reputation as well. Nerys, you have to let me go. Don't you see, judging by the charges against me, they've killed two people already. It would not be too far a stretch of the imagination to assume they would not stop at killing you as well. That is not a risk I'm prepared to take."
"Well, maybe I am."
"Nerys, you can't be serious."
"I'll go over the additional security details with Marshall, but don't you see, if they try anything while you are still in custody, your innocence is assured."
He started to reply, but stopped. Kira watched as he turned away from her. She could no longer see his face, but the slump of his shoulders spoke of weary resignation.
"Odo?" she asked. "What is it? What's wrong?"
"This isn't how I wanted things to be," he replied softly.
She wrapped her arms around him, her lips close to his ear. "What do you want, Odo?" she asked in a whisper. He leaned away from her embrace and turned to face her. "I want what I've always wanted, Nerys," he replied evenly. "I want to go home."
"Hey," said Grgor, kicking his companion. "Hey, wake up will you?"
Zit moaned softly and rolled over onto his back. "Leave me alone and let me die in peace," he replied. "What happened anyway? I feel as though I've been pulled through a wormhole backwards."
"You got knocked out in the fight."
"Fight? Oh yeah, now I remember. So, I suppose that explains our luxury accommodations."
"Exactly. And you'll never guess who's in the cell next to us."
"If I'll never guess, then why ask me to?"
"It's him," said Grgor.
"Him who? There are far too many Hims around here."
"Our job number one that's who. And you'll never guess who's just come for a visit."
"Didn't I just say……"
"Forget I mentioned it."
"Not another him, I hope," said Zit.
"No, it's Her."
"Her? What's she doing here?"
"No idea. But at least we now know why He wanted us to start a fight."
"Now I'm getting confused," said Zit shaking his head. "Him and her are in the cell next door. Who's He?"
"You know, He. The guy who hired us?"
"That He! What about him..or he?"
"Now we know why He wanted us to start a fight."
"So, He could throw us in jail?"
"No. Well, yes. Now we know where He's being kept it will be a lot easier to do our job and get out of here."
"But we know where He is, He is all over the place."
"Not that He," said Grgor. "The He in the next cell."
"I thought that was Him."
"Well it is…sort of…I think. Now you've got me confused."
"But aren't we supposed to wait until He contacts us again?" asked Zit.
"I don't know. He didn't say did he? Anyway," said Grgor. "We can keep our eyes open. Get an idea of schedules, make a plan, get the lay of the land, so to speak. He's a lot more subtle than we gave him credit for."
"I hope so."
"I don't know what to think, Marshall," said Kira. She had sought him out on the Defiant upon leaving Security, unsure of her feelings. "He looks like Odo, he talks like Odo, and yet there's something not quite right."
"Something you are not willing to admit to, perhaps?" asked Marshall. Much to her relief, he did not wait for an answer. "It looks to me, Colonel, as though we are somewhat on the horns of a dilemma. We can only question the Odo we have in the holding cell so far without giving away the fact that we have the other Odo secured here. We can not, at present, question the Odo we have on the Defiant, which leaves us only Gevrik's version of events. Unfortunately, Gevrik can not absolutely identify this Odo as the Odo you know. Which takes us back to the fellow in the holding cell."
"Who has a creditable explanation of why he left and why he's avoided contact."
"And who throws suspicion back on our friends in the infirmary. It would be interesting to see if we can confirm the two alleged attempts on his life. I would also like to turn the recording of your conversation over to Dax and Nog to see how a voice print would compare to the Romulan recording, with your permission, of course."
"Granted. Hopefully that can buy us a little time before we move any further."
"Look, Colonel, I may be stepping out of line by saying this, but it would not be the first time, and it probably will not be the last."
"Go ahead," said Kira.
"We humanoids have a tendency to take for granted who we are. Most of us would be hard pressed if we found ourselves in a situation where we actually had to prove our identities. Now, far be it from me to suggest we underplay the seriousness of the situation, but I don't think we should force our hands either."
"So you suggest we do nothing?"
"No, what I am suggesting is that you not try to rush into a decision about which Odo is which. Only time will tell."
"You may be right, Mr. Marshall. But if you're wrong, we run the risk of putting the station in danger. I just hope it doesn't come to that," she ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. There were getting nowhere. Remembering her promise to Julian, she stood. "I'll be down the hall in the infirmary if anyone need me."
"Julian, Mr. Gevrik," said Kira. "How did you manage that?"
By that, she was referring to the changeling sitting on the floor in the familiar form of Odo. She had arrived at the infirmary, slight apprehensive not as to what she would find, but who.
"Well," replied Julian. "We thought it would be easier on the Security staff, and I must admit on me, if he were to appear in his familiar form. As he apparently forgot what that was, we tried giving him a mirror and a photograph. So far it seems to be working."
Kira nodded. "Good idea," she replied. "But why is he sitting on the floor?"
"Your Engineer," replied Gevrik. "As our patient seems to respond to vibrations, we had requested your engineer to fix some way to create a surface that would allow us to study the effects on his memory while still in humanoid form."
"I remember. But why the floor?"
"It was in consideration of Mr. Landis," volunteered Bashir. "And I agree. In the event the Defiant were suddenly called into action, it would be easier to repair a few loose deck plates to keep them from vibrating than it would to repair one of the biobeds. Speaking personally, I wouldn't want to have to treat a patient while they were on a vibrating surface."
"I see," said Kira. "And have you been successful with this experiment?"
"Well, yes and no," confessed Julian.
"Would you care to explain?"
"Yes," said Gevrik. "In that there has been a marked improvement in his specific density and we have seen some nucleotide stabilization as long as he remains in a state of movement. He also demonstrated a greater interest in what is going on around him."
"And no," said Bashir. "In that as soon as the vibrations stop, he lapses back into a somewhat comatose state."
"And you still have no idea as to the cause or how to stop it?"
"I'm sorry, Colonel, but no we do not."
Kira nodded in understanding, although she understood not at all. She contemplated the figure sitting on the floor. He had his eyes closed as though asleep when she arrived. He now sat staring at her as though he had never seen anything quite like her before.
"Right," she said, looking around the infirmary. "What do you want me to do?"
"We have been unable to get him to respond to us verbally," said Gevrik. "We were hoping if someone he knew and trusted were to interact with him, he might respond."
"You want me to talk to him?"
"If it's not too much trouble," said Julian. "Look, we'll leave, maybe that will help. Come on Gevrik, let's get a cup of coffee."
Left alone, Kira was suddenly at a loss for words. She glanced at her companion, who continued sitting and staring at her. She glanced away, feeling his eyes still upon her, and started to pace the room. What's wrong with me, she thought. I can do this. It if is Odo, just talk to him. What you say doesn't matter. Her pacing had brought her in close proximity to him and she was startled out of her thoughts by the touch of his hand on her wrist.
She caught her breath, fighting a momentary sense of panic, and swung to face him. He gazed upon her hand as though fascinated by it. His fingers gently examining each fold and crease in her skin as though committing them to memory. She slid her gaze from her hand to his face and noticed for the first time his lips moving soundlessly. She knelt in front of him and gently lifted his head. The blue eyes were vacant as though lost in a dream.
"Who are you," she asked. "What do you want?"
His only answer was to take her hand and place it against his heart, folding his own hands on top of hers, and sighing loudly. His lips formed a single word. She slid her free hand to the back of his head, bringing their faces closer together.
"I can't hear you," she explained speaking softly. "You have to say it again, please. Tell me what you want."
The lips moved, but no sound issued forth. She searched his eyes, looking for some form of recognition, or deception, anything, but found only the same vacant stare. She released herself from his clasp and sat back on her heels. For an instant, his eyes locked on hers and again he sighed.
"What the hell is going on?" she wondered out loud. "What kind of game is this?"
"Any luck?" asked Julian as he and Gevrik returned to the Infirmary.
Kira stood, shrugging her shoulders as she turned to face them.
"Not really," she replied. "He's not exactly talkative."
"You noticed. Well, it was worth a try. Thank you, Colonel."
"Anytime, Julian. Gevrik." She left the Defiant and went back to her office, for once grateful for the seemingly endless amount of paperwork required by both Starfleet and the Bajoran Authorities. It was not until much later in the day, that she was struck by something that had occurred during her few moments in the Infirmary.