3
"Chicken pox!" Dax and Sisko asked at the same time. There was confusion in Dax's voice, incredulity in Sisko's.
Tarses nodded.
"Officially, it is a virus called varicella-zoster," he said. "It's a very common illness among human children. We've never been able to eradicate it entirely. There is a vaccine, but it's usually only administered to children with immunodeficiencies."
"Why?" asked Dax.
"It's nonfatal in healthy children," Tarses explained. "Once a child's had the disease, he or she usually becomes immune to it. It helps build the immune system as well. A healthy immune system has to be exposed to some contagions, or it won't be able to strengthen itself."
"If people become immune to it, then why is Julian sick?" Dax asked.
"There are cases of adults contracting the disease a second time. It's also possible that Julian never had this as a child. I've checked his medical records, and there's no indication he had it."
"But his medical records were all altered when he was enhanced," Dax finished for Tarses, sighing. "Right."
"The only people who would know for sure are his parents," Tarses said.
"And they're in a penal colony on Earth."
"Precisely."
"I'll get through to them," Sisko promised.
"Benjamin, he's my husband, I should–"
"And he's my doctor," Sisko cut in. "I am his CO. You told me yourself they've never met you, Dax, and I'd rather them have to face Julian's commander than his wife on something like this. It's my responsibility as his superior officer."
Dax sighed again, crossing her arms and nodding.
"Right," she said. Truth be told, she hadn't wanted to talk to Bashir's parents anyway. She had never met them, as Sisko had said, and she knew Bashir hadn't said much about her. To say they weren't close would be astronomically understating the issue. She could count on one hand how many times he had spoken to them since finding out about his genetic enhancements at the age of twenty-two.
"So, what happens now?" Dax asked.
Tarses looked displeased, something which started the Trill. She wasn't used to seeing any expression on the half-Vulcan's face.
"This illness can be extremely dangerous to an adult patient," he said plainly. "It can be fatal. I will need to keep Julian here. I've been administering an anti-viral drug that has been known to help, and Julian does have a very strong immune system thanks to his genetic enhancements."
"If his immune system is so strong, how did he get this?" Sisko asked.
Tarses gave him a long look.
"I don't know, sir."
"Can I see him?" Dax asked. "Will I get infected?"
"Yes, you can see him. Trill cannot contract or carry this disease."
"What about Renzi?" Dax pressed.
"Half-human children have a very low contraction rate," Tarses assured her. "If you bring Renzia in tomorrow, I can vaccinate her. Commander, I need to ask if you and your son had this illness."
"Oh, yes, Jake certainly did," Sisko said. "I remember it very well. And I did, too, when I was five."
"Good. I will need every human who has never had this to report to me for vaccination tomorrow. Dax, you can go in, if you'd like."
Dax nodded and hurried away, thinking about her daughter. She ought to call the O'Briens and let them know what was going on. They had been good enough to take the baby when Dax had been called to the infirmary, but, right now, Dax was more concerned with seeing Bashir than talking to anyone else. It could wait a few minutes.
Bashir was in one of the small recovery rooms, lying on a biobed on his back in the low lighting. Dax hurried over to him and took his hand, smoothing back the damp hair from his feverish forehead. He had a few small red spots on his face, and she hoped that was normal.
"Jules," she whispered.
His eyes fluttered open and he managed a weak smile.
"Jadzia," he whispered back. "Hi."
"How do you feel?"
"Terrible," he replied, but managed a weak smile. "I feel like I've been hit by a shuttle. I don't suppose that's what happened?"
"No."
"Pity," he sighed. Then he reached up and Dax took his hand quickly. "It's all right," he assured her. "I'll be okay."
"Simon said this can be fatal in adults," she said.
Bashir managed to nod.
"It can," he said. "I need some water."
Dax got him some quickly and helped him sit up enough to drink it. Then he lay back down, looking exhausted.
"Jadzia, listen to me. I'm not going to die. People who die from this die as a result of opportunistic varicella pneumonia and they invariably have some sort of compromised immune system. I'll be all right, I promise. And Simon is a good doctor. One of the best I've ever met."
Dax nodded. She was still uncertain and hated that feeling. After eight lifetimes, it was unnerving how this fear could creep up. But it always so hard to see a loved one in the hospital. Especially Bashir, who had never really been ill since she'd known him.
"I don't understand how you could get this now, with your enhancements."
He nodded. There were circles under his eyes, and he looked as if he might slip into sleep at any moment, but surprised her by staying awake.
"I don't remember if I had this as a child, so getting it now might not be such a surprise. Please, don't worry." He paused, then frowned. "Where's Renzia?"
"With Miles and Keiko."
"Good," he murmured, then sighed, his eyelids fluttering shut.
"Do you want me to go?" Dax whispered.
"No, stay here," he mumbled. "Talk to me."
"About what?"
"Something. Anything."
She paused, and thought he'd gone to sleep, but he turned his face toward her and opened his eyes slightly.
"I remember when I first met you," he whispered.
Dax smiled.
"So do I. You still owe Shannon for introducing us, you know."
"I owe her?" he murmured. "What about you?"
"I'm over three hundred years old. I would have muddled through somehow. But then this dashing young medical student stepped into my life. What was a girl to do?"
"You weren't three hundred years old when I met you," Bashir reminded her.
"No," Dax agreed. "Only twenty-four. And susceptible to the charms of a certain young cadet."
"Not so charming now," Bashir murmured.
"For better or worse, Jules, remember?"
"How could I forget?" he asked, closing his eyes, a small smile on his face.
"I don't think anyone who was there the day you proposed has forgotten that. I certainly wasn't expecting you to leave after lunch for your neurology class and then turn around and ask me in front of everyone walking past."
"Neither was I," Bashir admitted.
"It's probably why I said yes," Dax said, smiling and leaning down to kiss his forehead. His skin was warm even to her lips and she frowned, then smoothed her expression when he opened his eyes again. He seemed so vulnerable lying there, and it wasn't a sight she was used to. This was Bashir humbled, his role in this infirmary completely reserved. No wonder it was unsettling, she realized.
"But then, how could I have said no to the man who encouraged me to be joined even if it meant the risk of losing me?"
Bashir squeezed her hand gently and Jadzia squeezed back, a bit harder. Those had been rough days, after her joining, still not sure what she would want as she adjusted to the symbiont. And Bashir had told her not to refuse the symbiont on his account, because he would rather have lost her than have her regret a decision like that. And he had faced the difficulties head on, working through them with her.
She wouldn't have traded him for anyone in the galaxy.
His deepening breathing told her he had slipped into sleep. Dax watched him for a moment, then pulled up a chair and sat down beside him, still holding his hand. In all her lives, she had never known anyone quite like him, so strong and loyal, so willing to fight for what they had. It still amazed her at times, because she knew how people perceived Bashir when they first met him: young, arrogant, untried. Dax knew better. He was those things, of course, but underneath, there was a man who knew what he wanted and would face down any challenges to get it.
She stayed awhile longer, watching him sleep, a fairly peaceful sleep despite the fever. Then she went to pick up her daughter and headed home. It was time to put this day behind her. Even after eight lifetimes, a day where two people close to her had landed in the infirmary had rattled her. She could tell when she picked Renzia up from the O'Briens that it had rattled Miles as well. They had all grown used to the stability of Terok Nor. Even for someone who had died seven times, suffering was not an easy prospect to face.
"Please state the nature of the medical emergency."
Jake Sisko watched with interest as the emergency medical hologram came to life. Doctor Tarses extended a padd and the hologram took it.
"The other doctor is ill, and requires medical attention. So does this young man. I cannot provide care twenty-six hours a day."
"I understand," the EMH said.
"This is a detailed medical history of both patients," Tarses continued. "Both cases are fairly straightforward. Jake is allowed to have any visitors who come and see him, although I am restricting Julian's visitors to the names on the padd. If you have any questions, please call me."
The EMH nodded.
"Doctor Simon Tarses, is it?" he asked, glancing down at the padd.
"Yes. I will be back on duty in twelve hours." He turned to Jake and nodded. "I will see you then."
Jake grinned, although weakly. He was exhausted and still on some pain killers, but was feeling remarkably better than he had when he had awoken in the middle of the night. Despite the explosion and his injuries, he felt in good spirits. Tarses had explained about his arm being replaced, and earlier in the morning, Ezri Reth had come by to talk to him about it. Jake wondered if they were expecting him to be shocked or traumatized, but he couldn't see how he would feel that way. His arm was still his arm. When he held it up, it looked and felt the same. His sense of touch reacted the same way. Nothing felt different. Reth had been pleased about that. Jake wondered if his reaction was due to the fact that he couldn't actually remember the accident. He remembered nothing past starting work in the processing center that morning, then waking up here.
"Have a good day, Doctor," he said as Tarses departed. The EMH turned to the young man lying on the bed and gave him a critical look.
"According to this, you're recovering well," he said.
Jake smiled again.
"That's good," he said. "Can you let me go home?"
"I'm afraid not. Doctor Tarses was very specific in his orders here. You're here until at least tomorrow."
Jake sighed.
"What am I supposed to do here all day?" he asked.
"Heal," the doctor replied.
"Jake-o!" a voice said from the doorway and Sisko stepped in, grinning. "How do you feel?"
"Can I help you?" the EMH enquired.
"I'm Captain Benjamin Sisko, commander of this station and this young man's father. I trust I'm allowed to visit him?"
The EMH rolled his eyes and Jake bit down on surprised laughter.
"I'm aware of you who are, Captain," the doctor sighed, sounding put upon. "Very well. Just try not to be too rambunctious."
Sisko raised an eyebrow, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips.
"I'll be sure to try," he promised.
"Good," the doctor muttered darkly. "If you need me, I'll be checking up on this doctor with," he glanced at the padd, then raised his eyebrows, an expression of distaste on his face, "Chicken pox."
The EMH left the room and Sisko and Jake exchanged a look, chuckling quietly.
"He has quite the bedside manner," Sisko commented, shaking his head.
"Well, we could have had that one modeled after Doctor Bashir, remember?"
"Yes, and how do you suppose Julian would have felt being taken care of by a hologram of himself?"
Jake grinned.
"How are you feeling, kiddo?"
"Better, Dad. Honest."
Sisko leaned down to kiss Jake on the forehead.
"Glad to hear it. Did Ezri come by and talk to you?"
"She did," Jake replied. "And I'm fine. Really, I am," he said, when Sisko looked doubtful. "I don't remember anything that happened."
"Jake, whether you remember it or not, you've still had a very traumatic experience. I know right now you just want to get up and go, but you need time to rest."
Jake sighed.
"That's what Doctor Tarses said."
"Well, he has a good head on his shoulders. I wouldn't argue logic with a Vulcan, even a half-Vulcan. Whether or not you want to, right now you just have to give yourself some time."
"I just wish they'd let me go home."
"Soon enough. And it won't be home you'll be going to. You're coming to stay with Kasidy and me."
"What? Why?"
"Julian's orders."
"But he's sick."
"He's still the CMO and his orders still stand. I can't do anything about that."
Jake frowned, but reluctantly left the subject alone.
"All right."
"That's the spirit." Sisko glanced around the room. "Looks like you've had a lot of well wishers since I left."
Jake nodded, then grimaced slightly from the fatigue. Every available surface in the room was covered with flowers or cards, mostly from the other ore processing workers. His two supervisors, Odo and Chlera Nerak had brought the gifts. Nog had stopped by before his duty shift, too, and brought Jake his writing padds and some music, for which Jake was grateful. He didn't have the energy to write at the moment, but he knew he'd get bored eventually, cooped up in the infirmary.
"Kasidy sends her love and promises she'll come by after she's done her runs to Bajor today. Kira and Kai Bareil said a prayer for you in the shrine last night. Keiko says to say hello, too, and Dax wants you to get better quickly."
"I will," Jake promised. "It'll be good to see Kas."
"Just make sure you don't have too many visitors. You still do need to rest."
"You keep saying that," Jake sighed, but knew his father was right. He was tired, and felt himself beginning to drift off.
"Excuse me," a voice said from behind Sisko and Jake looked over his father's shoulder to see an unfamiliar Cardassian standing in the doorway. Sisko was on his feet immediately.
"Admiral Dukat. Are you all right?"
"I'm afraid not, Captain," the admiral replied. He was holding his right arm and looking pained. "I tend to forget how good my daughter really is at springball. Is there a doctor on duty?"
"We have the EMH program running right now. I believe he's in the other room."
The admiral nodded and limped away.
"How is Doctor Bashir, Dad?"
Sisko smiled.
"That's my son," he said. "Thinking about everyone else before himself."
Jake chuckled quietly.
"To be honest, I don't know. Dax said Julian is sure he'll be fine, although Simon is more concerned. But Julian's a strong man, and a doctor. He probably does know best."
"How does someone his age get chicken pox?" Jake murmured.
"That's what I'd like to know," Sisko said, then shook his head once. "You need to get some sleep, Jake-o. I'll come back later, with Kasidy."
"All right," Jake mumbled.
"I love you," Sisko said, kissing his son on the forehead. Jake managed a small smile in return before finally succumbing to sleep.
The EMH entered the dim, quiet room and looked at the patient on the bed. Bashir was either asleep or pretending to be. Quickly, the doctor checked Bashir's temperature, noted it had gone down, and gave him another dose of acyclovir.
"So this is the man with the chicken pox," he muttered to himself. Indeed, Bashir had the telltale red pox marks on his face and hands. The EMH looked at them disdainfully and shook his head.
"What kind of grown man gets the chicken pox?" he said under his breath.
"Doctor," said a voice from behind him. The EMH turned to see an admiral dressed in the black and grey of Starfleet security standing in the corridor, holding his right arm and obviously favoring his right leg.
"What can I do for you, Admiral?"
"Sporting injury," the admiral replied.
"Well, come with me. Tell me what happened."
The Cardassian limped behind the EMH into the examination area.
"I was playing springball with my daughter. She's a lot better at it than I remembered."
"I see. Well, perhaps you should find an opponent closer to your skill level."
The admiral laughed, a rich and appreciative laugh.
"I don't think so, Doctor," he replied. "I doubt Nerys would forgive me if I refused to play against her."
"Nerys? As in Commander Kira Nerys?"
"The very same."
"Then you must be Admiral Dukat."
"Do they run your program often, Doctor?"
"Not at all. In fact, I'm starting to think they don't appreciate me very much. The simple fact is that I've been programmed with the names and personal information of the station's permanent crew. It makes it easier on everyone when I am running."
"I see."
"This will hurt."
"Your assurances do wonders for my anxieties, Doctor. I was under the impression that human doctors were renowned for their bed side manner."
"I'm sure some of them are. I, on the other hand, am a hologram, not a human. Hold still, please, Admiral. There, that takes care of your arm. I don't care what your daughter thinks, you won't be playing for the next two days. You had a fractured radius and it looks like you've got a nasty sprain in your ankle."
Dukat sighed, shaking his head.
"Very well, Doctor, if you insist."
"I always insist. Now, off with that boot. I'm a doctor, not a tailor. I need to get a better look at that ankle."
Bashir opened his eyes and lay in the near darkness, straining his enhanced hearing as much as he could. There was someone else in the infirmary, aside from Jake and the EMH. He listened hard, ignoring the sounds of the machinery around him. It was more difficult to concentrate now; the fever was affecting his mental acuity and distracting him. He felt like he was burning up, but at the same time, was loath to get rid of any of the blankets covering him. He still felt weak, as if he had actually been hit by a shuttle, and he was thirsty and hungry.
All of that took second place to trying to figure out whose voice that was.
Dukat.
Bashir started when he realized the Cardassian was there. What was he doing on the station? How had he slipped past security? Why was the EMH treating him? Since when did his infirmary have an EMH?
Carefully, Bashir slipped from his bed. He gripped the side of the bed for a moment while he regained his tenuous balance, taking several deep breaths to steady himself. He went to tap his communicator, then realized he wasn't wearing it. He was in the horrible purple and orange infirmary pajamas.
Slowly, he made his way to the corridor and up to the examination room. Dukat was sitting on an exam bed, being tended to by the EMH. He was dressed in a black and grey Starfleet security uniform. Bashir's brow furrowed; why in the galaxy would Dukat think that such a disguise would fool anyone?
"Computer," Bashir whispered, "Deactivate EMH."
The EMH vanished in mid-sentence and Dukat looked around, surprised. Before he could open his mouth to reactivate the hologram, Bashir stepped into the room, one hand on the door frame for support.
"Dukat," he said in a low voice.
"Admiral Dukat, yes," the Cardassian said.
"Do you think that's going to fool anyone? That you'll go unnoticed here?"
The Cardassian gave him a puzzled and very careful look.
"Do I think what will fool anyone?" he asked, getting up carefully from the bed. Bashir noted that the Cardassian was favoring his right leg and took the advantage. He launched himself at Dukat, catching the other man off guard and bearing him to the ground. Dukat struggled, but Bashir was just as strong or stronger, thanks to his enhancements.
"Starfleet is going to be very happy to get their hands on you," Bashir managed as the Cardassian fought back. Bashir held on, but his illness had drained him of some of his usual strength.
"Get off of me!" Dukat ordered.
"You're not getting away this time!" Bashir promised.
Dukat managed to half sit up and shove Bashir aside long enough to hit his combadge.
"Dukat to security! I need assistance in the infirmary!"
Bashir clambered to his feet and grabbed the Cardassian, shoving him up against the wall. Dukat pushed back, but Bashir held his ground, gritting his teeth.
"Computer, activate EMH!" Dukat managed, struggling against the arm Bashir had pinned against his throat.
"Belay that order!" Bashir snapped.
Dukat managed to shove Bashir aside, but the doctor grabbed the Cardassians arms, bringing his knee up into the other man's stomach. The Cardassian heaved, doubling over and Bashir raised his arms, bringing his hands together in a fist, and was about to bring them down on the back of Dukat's head when he felt a phaser beam slamming into his back. He jerked, then collapsed to the floor. He managed to struggle onto his arms before a hand held him down and he was looking up into Michael Eddington's angry face.
"Just what the hell is going on here?"