7
When Dax arrived home, Bashir was waiting for her. Renzia was sleeping again, and he had been enjoying a cup of tea and catching up on some of his leisure reading when his wife stepped through the doorway. He put his cup aside immediately and rose quickly, shocked by the stunned, tired look on her face.
"Zia?" he asked.
She crossed the room, took his face and kissed him hard. Bashir was caught off guard for a moment, then wrapped his arms around her and kissed back. When she pulled away from him, he caught her face in his hands.
"What's the matter?"
"Benjamin and I think we've figured out what that anomaly is," she said.
"What?"
"An interdimensional rip into another universe."
Bashir's eyebrows shot up. Dax sat down, raising her blue eyes to meet his dark ones. Bashir sat down beside her quickly, blinking away the spots in front of his eyes. He had risen then sat down too quickly for his still-sick body's comfort.
"Really?" he asked.
Dax nodded.
"Jules, it was so– strange. I've never, ever experienced anything like that before."
He took one of her hands.
"What happened?"
"I felt like there were two of me, superimposed on the same spot. Two Jadzia Daxs. And believe me, that's a weird feeling, even for a joined Trill." She paused, sighing. "I could almost remember the memories of this other Jadzia. And there were two Benjamins. I remember that. I could see him, I mean, the other Benjamin, as if he had been sitting beside me."
"What did he look like? Our Sisko?"
Dax pursed her lips, shaking her head.
"No," she said slowly. "I remember I saw it clearly then, but I'm having troubles remembering it now. The uniform was different, and he had no hair. I think."
"No hair?"
Dax nodded. Bashir raised his eyebrows again.
"Any idea what caused this rip?"
Dax shook her head.
"Not yet, but for all we know, it could have been there for millennia before we spotted it. But now I've got some data on it, and I can get a better idea of its orbit. That might give us some answers."
"Is there any way to go through it?"
"I don't know," she replied, squeezing his hand. "I'm not sure I'd want to."
"You're not curious about this other Jadzia?"
She gave him a sidelong look.
"Yes," she replied. "But what if she's so different from me as to be unrecognizable to me? What if she made choices that would horrify me? For all I know, Jules, she never met or married you. Or she's dead."
Bashir felt a tight twist in his stomach. He couldn't imagine not ever having met Dax, having lived his whole life without her, or knowing her and not being married to her. The idea unsettled him so much it must have shown on his face, because Dax put a hand on his cheek and turned his face toward hers.
"This is my universe, Julian," she said. "Whatever happens in that one only happens there."
Bashir nodded.
"You're looking better," she commented.
"And you're changing the subject," he replied.
She smiled.
"Yes, I am. I'd rather talk about things happening here, at least right now."
"Well, I may look better, but my brain isn't yet," he replied wryly, then told her about inventing a whole race of people on the promenade, to which she laughed. He also told her about the encounter with the Klingon, because if he didn't, Sisko would, and she'd be furious with him. Her eyes widened at that story.
"You took on a Klingon?" she asked when he was finished.
"I wasn't really thinking," he admitted.
"I'll say." She rose and then leaned down to kiss his forehead. "Were Renzi and Ezri all right?"
"Just fine," he replied.
"Even after all these years, Julian Bashir, you still manage to surprise me sometimes."
"Good," he said with a smile.
Bashir lay awake well after Dax had gone to sleep, listening to the sound of her breathing next to him, to the faint hum of the station's life support system, to the sounds of his daughter's breathing in the next room. He gazed blankly through the darkness at the ceiling, the cold Cardassian architecture that joined the walls, bleak grey on grey.
He thought about this other universe Dax and Sisko had discovered. He wondered if there was another Julian Bashir over there, and, if so, what he was like. Dax didn't seem particularly interested in her alternate self, but Bashir knew that it was more the shock of the discovery. For his own part, he was immensely curious. Was this other Bashir genetically enhanced as well? Had he and Dax been married as long, were they married at all? Again, that thought made him uneasy. If they hadn't married, there would be no Renzia, and Bashir couldn't imagine a life without his daughter. What would occupy this other Bashir's life? Was it full of family, friends…
Romulans?
He sat up quickly, dragging the blankets with him halfway so that Dax's shoulders were exposed, but she didn't stir. He looked down at her, not really seeing his wife, but thinking hard.
Had he really made up those Romulans, or did they exist somewhere?
"Zia," he whispered in the darkness. "Jadzia."
She stirred, then began to sit up automatically.
"I'll get her," Dax muttered sleepily and Bashir put a hand on her shoulder, shaking his head.
"No," he whispered. "Renzi's still asleep. I need to ask you something."
She peered at him blearily.
"Can't it wait until morning? You should be sleeping, too."
"It probably could, but then I couldn't sleep. Do you think that interdimensional rip could be affecting this station?"
Dax blinked tiredly at him.
"What? Why?"
"Think of all the strange things that have been happening on this station. The explosion in ore processing, me getting sick, the power drain we had the other day."
Dax sat up, adjusting the blankets over her knees. Her long hair hung loosely over her shoulders, spilling down her back and across her arms, and Bashir thought she never looked as beautiful as she did when her hair was down.
"I suppose it's possible," she conceded, starting to wake up now, as she always did when she was talking about a scientific problem. "But I don't think the anomaly's come anywhere near here. It looks like it's in a stable orbit. I don't see why it would be affecting Terok Nor and not any of the planets or moons in the system."
"What if it's just me?" he asked.
"You?"
"Well, what if those Romulans I imagined aren't just imaginary? What if they exist over there? And the Klingon I attacked today, Worf. Do you remember the other day in the infirmary when I asked you were Worf was? I didn't know who he was then, but maybe the Julian over there does know him."
Dax blinked.
"But, Jules, why you?" she asked. "You're not a telepath, or sensitive to telepathic influences."
"I am genetically enhanced," he pointed out.
"Somehow, I don't think that would get an anomaly's attention," Dax replied. "But you may be onto something with the things that have been happening on the station. I'll look into it tomorrow."
Bashir smiled at her.
"Thank you. I should be able to sleep now."
Dax grinned wickedly and reached for him.
"Oh, no, you won't," she promised.
When Bashir awoke the next morning, Dax was already gone, but he had a vague memory of her waking him up to kiss him goodbye. He groaned, rolling out of bed, then pushing himself to his feet to check on his daughter. She had woken up four times during the night, and he felt worn out from it. Not to mention that Dax had kept him up, but that hadn't been so bad. He grinned to himself. It hadn't been bad at all.
He hurried and washed up during the few precious minutes he had before his daughter woke up, and was just pulling on his uniform, more out of habit than necessity, when Renzia woke up. He rescued her from her crib, changed her and was feeing her when the door chime sounded.
"Come in!" he called and was greeted by the sight of O'Brien with Kirayoshi in his arms. Bashir's face relaxed into a smile.
"Miles, hello," he said.
"Thought you might want to join me for breakfast," the commander said. "Molly's in school, and Keiko hasn't gotten back from that botanical survey on Bajor Eight, so it's just me and Yoshi."
"The lament of fatherhood," Bashir said with a grin. "We'd love to come. Replimat?"
"Where else?"
They made their way down to the replimat, and Bashir was certain that the promenade was even busier than it had been the day before. He said as much to O'Brien, who laughed mirthlessly.
"Tell me about it," O'Brien agreed. "Last night, just before I finished my shift, we got a communiqué from Starfleet Command. It turns out some genius bumped up a deep space mission without thinking about the Trisepat coming here. Now we have the Voyager on her way through to the Gamma Quadrant."
"The Voyager?" Bashir asked as they sat down at one of the few empty tables. Beside them was a female Gri'Thethi was eating with a male Hendulu and a female Kbsai. Bashir watched them surreptitiously for a moment; the Gri'Thethi and the Hendulu were two of the three founding races of the Trisepat, and the Kbsai had been the fourth race to join. Bashir scanned the area quickly; he didn't see any Shifters. It didn't mean there weren't any around. Like the Changelings, they could assume any form they wanted, but unlike Odo's people, they were limited to humanoid forms. They could be taking any shape, Bashir knew, but they tended to stick with their own base form when visiting other places.
"Sure, you remember, don't you? It came through here a few years ago. Its a deep space exploratory ship, and the crew was doing some studies in the Badlands. Captain Janeberg, or something."
"Janeway," Bashir corrected as O'Brien settled Kirayoshi in a chair and rose to go to the replicators.
"What do you want?" O'Brien asked.
"Scones and jam, and Tarkalian tea," Bashir replied. O'Brien returned a moment later with a tray loaded down with food and gave his son the first plate. Immediately, Kirayoshi dug into it, eating with gusto and using only his hands. Bashir accepted his breakfast gratefully.
"That's right," O'Brien said. "Janeway."
"I thought they were already on a deep space mission," Bashir said, confused. "Weren't they– Weren't they headed for the Delta Quadrant?"
O'Brien laughed, raising his coffee cup to his lips.
"Whatever Simon's giving you, it must be good," he said. "You're thinking of the Kejada and the Tre'sov. The Voyager was doing some Beta Quadrant exploration, but they've been back for six months, according to the information we received last night. Now they're headed for the Gamma Quadrant."
"Good timing," Bashir commented wryly.
"You're telling me. Kira was one unhappy ex-oh last night. I'm glad I'm not on duty when she tells Sisko."
"Hopefully they can detour to Deep Space Eight instead."
"Here's hoping," O'Brien agreed.
Bashir grinned over his mug, then set it down to adjust his grip on his daughter. Looking up, he caught the eye of the Gri'Thethi woman, nodded at her, then something else snagged his attention. He frowned, gazing through the crowd at a civilian man who was watching him intently. He looked instantly familiar, but Bashir couldn't place him. Something about his rugged face and cold eyes stood out in Bashir's memory, but he was certain he'd never seen the man before. But it was as if the other man knew the doctor, the way he was glaring…
Bashir saw the Gri'Thethi woman follow his gaze, and saw her rise, as if in slow motion. Her two companions stood half a second after she did, turning in the direction of the man, who looked startled and began to move away. The Hendulu made a quick gesture with his wrist at the same time that the Gri'Thethi said:
"That man is a spy."
She did not speak loudly, or with much emphasis, but it seemed everyone on the promenade had heard her. The murmur of conversation vanished, and heads began to turn, in the direction of the man and of the Trisepat citizens.
"Sloan," Bashir whispered, then realized he was standing.
"You know him?" O'Brien demanded.
The man, Sloan, was struggling against the Hendulu's telekinetic grip but failing.
"No. Yes. I don't know. But he knows me." Bashir replied in a daze, then snapped out of it and hit his combadge with his free hand. "Bashir to security!"
"Eddington here, go ahead, Doctor."
"We have a situation down on the promenade, Commander. We need you down here."
"Understood. Eddington out."
No one had moved, and the three Trisepat citizens were still standing around their table, silently, but Bashir suspected they were communicating telepathically. The Gri'Thethi and the Kbsai were both telepathic races, and it would be easy for them to include the Hendulu in their mental conversation. Irrelevantly, Bashir wondered if there were any Betazoids there privy to the unspoken words.
O'Brien moved then, as Eddington and his officers showed up. The engineer took Renzia from the doctor's arms.
"What's the problem?" Eddington demanded. The sound of his voice, the somehow strangeness of it, shook Bashir back to reality. He gestured vaguely to the Trisepat citizens.
"That man is a spy," the Gri'Thethi said firmly. Eddington raised his eyebrows, turning toward the trapped Sloan.
"I think his name is Sloan," Bashir said.
"You know him, Doctor?" Eddington asked, sending his two officers to detain the man, reliving the Hendulu of his telekinetic duties.
"I think I might," Bashir said carefully.
"Then you'll have to come with me," Eddington said. "This should be an interesting story. You're a very popular man with security lately, Doctor."
"Must be my charm," Bashir replied, one corner of his mouth twitching in a wry half-smile. He glanced at O'Brien who nodded his assent about taking care of Renzia, then followed Eddington from the replimat, keeping his eyes on Sloan, who glared piercingly, threateningly, at him before being hauled off.