7
The next two days passed in almost complete silence. They spoke to each other only when necessary, doing their chores quickly and efficiently. It seemed easier, for the moment, rather than trying to mend any fences, but it gave Bashir a lot of time to think.
Time he didn't necessarily want.
Her last comment to him was what stuck out in his mind. Hard as he might, he couldn't shake it. Was she right? Did he see himself as inferior because Singh had insisted on superiority? Was this a way of distancing himself from the infamous Augment everyone immediately thought of when they heard the words "genetically enhanced"?
At first, he had hotly denied that to himself, but as the hours wore by, he began losing the fight. Was she also right that he had pushed his parents out of his life? They had begun to repair their relationship when they had visited him on the station, but Bashir still partly believed it had been for them, not for him, that they had done this.
And what about O'Brien, and Dax? He could remember the things he'd said to them after they'd found out. How he had walked on eggshells around them. Were they treating him differently, or was he treating them differently because he thought they could never see him as the same person again?
Did he have a right to use his enhancements to their fullest, to take this thing that had been done to him and make it into something good?
He began to worry that he did indeed have that right. With the worry came the dismissive voice in his head telling him no, he couldn't do that. But right behind it was the question "why not?". Because of Khan Singh? How much longer, he thought, would he have to live in that man's shadow? Singh had died over one hundred years ago. And, as had been pointed out to him once, he was not Singh, nor did he have any desire to take over the galaxy. He wanted to be a doctor. He was a doctor.
What if he could be a better doctor taking full advantage of the enhancements?
What if that's what his parents wanted for him? Not to feel guilty, but to be the best Julian Bashir he could possibly be? He would never agree with their decision, because Federation law forbade it. But what was done was done, as Narayan had said earlier.
By the end of the second day after their argument, he was feeling extremely guilty for the things he'd said to her, because he was coming to terms with the fact that she was right about some of the things thatshe had said to him. If he called himself a freak, then so was she, even if it was on a smaller scale. And neither of them could change what had happened to them.
And he had been attributing motives to his parents' action. All of his life. He had been denying himself the full extent of his skills for fear of what he could become. But he was not Singh. He was a good man. And he frankly had no desire to run anything larger than his infirmary. He could see clearly now that the temptation had never been there. He was smarter than almost everyone he knew, and learned far more quickly, but that did not make him some sort of super human. There were things O'Brien could do that Bashir could not. He couldn't run the station the way Sisko could. He couldn't give life to stories the way Jake could. He didn't have the eight lives of experience that Dax had. He didn't have the military and survival skills Kira had. There was a whole list of things he did not know how to do, or skills that he did not have, and it was long.
But he was a doctor, and a damn good one. Why was he keeping himself from being the best doctor he could be?
After they had stopped for the night, set up camp, and had the fire going, Bashir said down across from Narayan.
"Syreeta," he started. "I want to apologize for what I said to you. I had no right to infer anything about your personal life. I hardly know you, and this isn't the most social of situations."
She looked up at him, startled.
"I don't want you to apologize," she said, but although her voice was level, it wasn't hard. "I don't want you to feel sorry. I think you were right. No. You were right. I just never wanted to have to own up to it."
It was his turn to be surprised.
"I can't speak for your life, Julian. I can't say how you should feel about what was done to you. Just because I've accepted it in myself doesn't mean you have to have the same experience. But– I always knew I kept my distance, because I am afraid of losing people. I thought it was easier. Maybe it isn't."
"And I thought fighting myself and hating my parents for what happened was easier. Maybe it isn't. I just want to be a doctor. Not a dictator."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the flames.
"What were your sisters' names?", Bashir asked.
"Hara and Navinder," she replied, and there was a slight smile on her lips when she looked back up at him. "They were two and four years younger than me. I loved them. I still love them."
"You said you didn't have parents to be proud of you," Bashir said. "I think they would be, if they were here."
"Thanks," Narayan whispered. She studied him for a moment. "I'm sure your parents are proud of you, too, Julian. I'm sure they always were."
He nodded. It would take time to believe that, but at least it seemed possible to believe it now.
"Tell me about living on Mars," he suggested. "I've only ever been there once."
"To which part?", she asked.
"Valles Marineris and Olympus Mons."
She smiled.
"Beautiful places. I lived on Utopia Planetia. Not the orbiting station, but the actual plain on Mars. I worked as a farm hand. It was a good living, because it's pretty quiet. Before that, I lived in Calcutta."
"I thought you lived in Lionus?"
"I did. After my parents died, I went to live with my mother's family in Calcutta. I hated it. It smelled so strange, all of the time, and there were too many people. I ran away. To Mars. Even back then, I just wanted to be on my own."
"How old are you?", he asked.
"Twenty-seven. You?"
"Thirty-two."
"What's it like on your station?"
Bashir thought about that for a moment.
"Most of the time, chaotic. I haven't ever served on a starship, except occasional runs the Defiant makes, but I imagine it's so much more controlled on a Starfleet ship. It's an open port, so we have everyone passing through. There's a Cardassian tailor who lives there, well, he says he's a tailor, but he used to be an agent for the Obsidian Order, I'm sure."
"Ah, yes," Narayan said with a smile. "Mister Garak."
"You've heard of him?"
"I'm an intelligence officer, Julian. I don't know everything Intelligence knows, but I think we've all heard of Garak."
Bashir grinned.
"We have Klingons through there all of the time; they cause the most trouble. There's a Feringi who runs a bar, we've had Gul Dukat and other Cardassians there, most notably two female scientists who helped us establish a permanent communications link with the Gamma Quadrant."
"I remember reading that report," Narayan said. "Another thing I'm sure we all know."
"It's a great place. I wouldn't trade my commission for anything in the galaxy. It was the one I wanted when I graduated from medical school. How about you? Was the Sir John what you wanted?"
She gave him a wry smile.
"I go where Intelligence sends me. I didn't have a particular mission in mind, because that's not how it works for me."
She left it at that and Bashir understood she probably couldn't say anything more. But not because she wanted to protect herself from being hurt; because she was under orders not to. What a fitting job for someone who never wanted to get close to anyone, he thought. I wonder if all intelligence officers have something to hide from? Certainly, it couldn't be an easy career, never being able to talk freely about one's day or assignments.
He wondered if she liked her job, but didn't ask. Possibly, she couldn't comment on that, either. Bashir imagined if she was unsatisfied, it probably would have been dealt with by now by her superiors. It would be dangerous to have an unhappy intelligence agent.
They spent the rest of the evening companionably, the explosive argument of two days ago dwindling into the past. When twilight began to threaten, they pulled down the clothes and blankets and set up the tent. Narayan took first watch, as was their established pattern, and Bashir went to bed, grateful that he could do so without any thoughts of their fall out.
He slept fitfully that night, though, plagued by dreams in which his friends on the station walked through the campsite, calling to him. Although he yelled back, they did not hear him, and when he tried to stop them, to grab them, or stand in front of them, they kept moving as if he were not there. The dreams faded to new dreams of being back on the station, but still being invisible. He would walk like a ghost along the promenade, watching the inhabitants go about their daily routines as if he weren't there. When he awoke, he could almost hear Dax's voice, clear as a bell, saying to him: "Come on, Julian, I know you can hear me."
He traded shifts with Narayan, who did not comment to him about seeing anyone or hearing any voices. He left her to go to sleep and sat in the darkness, missing his friends now more than ever.
In the end, they had to walk for twelve days to reach the settlement. The last three days passed well, given that their disagreement was sorted out, and Bashir found himself truly warming to Narayan. Once she had let him past her cold exterior, she turned out to be a deeply caring and compassionate woman. There were still things of which she would not speak, of course, mostly related to her assignment. But she refused to speak of the two crew members who had died in her shuttle, not even giving Bashir their names. He had backed off on that subject and left it alone after raising it the first time. This did not seem to be the time for her to deal with it, and if she had issues with survivor guilt later on, it could be sorted out with a counselor.
He found out more about Lionus and her life there, and her time on Mars before coming to the Academy. He told her what he remembered about being in the hospital on Adigeon Prime, and about his life after that before entering the Academy. He talked more about the station, but she did not mention the Sir John at all, which didn't surprise him.
The walking was getting easier as they came to the edges of the foothills, although it was by no means an easy stroll. Everywhere he looked, Bashir could see signs of an ancient glaciation in the way the hills and valleys were shaped. There were no tree lines anymore; the hills were completely forested. Occasionally, they came across evidence of predators, but saw no more of the black cat-creatures. Nor did they find any more signs of habitation, like the stone ruins or the position beacon. It seemed the mountains had either been abandoned or never properly settled. There were no traces even of hunters out here. Although they had seen the shuttle flying above them, and the ruins of a place where someone must have once lived, they had not set eyes on a single inhabitant of this planet yet. Bashir found himself wondering often what these people would be like, and hoped fervently that they weren't Jem'Hadar or any other Dominion subjects. It would be the worst outcome to their long trek to find the settlement inhabited by loyal Dominion soldiers. Bashir had no illusions that they wouldn't die if caught, and he certainly didn't want to flee back into the mountains and trek all the way back to their shuttles.
At other times, he found himself wondering what it was going to be like going home. He had grown so accustomed to Narayan being his only companion that it would be difficult to readjust to both the amount of people on the station and her absence. Would they ever see each other again? Would they bother writing? Or would they go their separate ways, two people who had nothing to connect them except a shared survival experience?
Or, when they reached the settlement, would they find the inhabitants incapable of warp flight and have no means of contacting Narayan's ship? Would they have to live their lives out here? If so, would they be forced to live as hermits, with only each other for company, or would they be able to pass as the inhabitants of this world if not too closely examined? The possible futures seemed endless, and Bashir found himself growing more apprehensive as they approached the settlement. At least alone with Narayan in the mountains, he'd known where he stood. He could deal with one other Starfleet officer and with their situation. Not knowing what lay ahead left him edgy, like he was standing on the edge of a deep, yawning chasm and losing his balance.
It was late morning when they finally came around the final bend in the river that hid the settlement from it. It was still several kilometers away, downhill. It was a decent size, but not that big, perhaps three or four hundred thousand people, Bashir judged. Then he chuckled to himself. That was one hundred times the population of the station, and thirty times the population of Lionus. To Narayan, it may well seem huge, but to Bashir, having lived on Earth so long, it seemed a reasonable amount of people. Buildings were spread out on either side of the river, and there were two bridges Bashir could see spanning the waters. One appeared to be covered. Just outside the city was an area of cleared land. Bashir couldn't tell what it was at first, until something passed low overhead, startling both of them. They watched the shuttle touch down in the cleared area.
"Well," Narayan said, gesturing vaguely in front of them. "Shall we?"
"The sooner the better," Bashir said, trying to calm the nervousness that had hold of his stomach. That shuttle hadn't looked like a Jem'Hadar vehicle at any rate. Hopefully, that was good news.
They stepped forward, into the sudden light that flashed off of the river.