JMJ

Chapter Fifteen

A Gale-force Wind

What he had heard in place of a zephyr was the sound of food being kept warm. Sharlezeed had apparently taken the initiative to replicate a few things and try to spice it up herself. Normally, he would not have appreciated such a thing, especially since Sharzee apparently still liked to over-spice her food. But then that had also been how her brother had liked it.

She had been the cook for her brother and it had not been uncommon for Quark to eat her fare with Gloobram. At that time, Quark would have been more in the way in a kitchen than not despite his natural knack for tasting and smelling ingredients. Now that he had become the expert, it made him laugh how she used one spice to try to compensate for the dryness of one dish when she would probably have been better off using it to prop up the otherwise flat watery flavor of the other dish unless she wanted to make one thirsty on purpose. In the Tarok Nor or DS9 days Quark had certainly utilized such knowledge.

He shook his head and smiled.

It only made him love her more. She was casting a spell upon him with everything she did. Her faults he loved more than her strengths. Either that or he truly had been that desperate for a companion in this lonely business of power and corruption at the Tower.

If anything else, he wanted to accept that Sharzee's presence was a gift to him in this dark hour. He bowed his head in gratefulness for her. As he lifted his glass of wine, his eyes lifted briefly skyward. She lifted her glass back with a wry smile more loving than a plain one could have been as their eyes met.

They had an idle and comfortable chat about how Bajorans had taken a fancy for lokar beans for a sort of bean-jam on toasted sweet-bread and how it was amusing that a Ferengi could not thoroughly enjoy such a thing having systems that could not quite gastronomically accept much grain without serious repercussions. It became even more amusing when the chat began to flutter more comfortably and idly while noting the exception to a Ferengi's low tolerance of grain when it came to a very finely brewed beer.

"And this proves all the more the unity and camaraderie of all peoples, no matter where you're from or who you are, found in a bar far more than any ideal or political stance," as Quark profoundly commented.

And he beamed as it drew out a pleasant tinkling laugh from his partner more nostalgic than any comfort-food of childhood. He nearly melted like a honey cube in Bajoran tea. He was back to bathing in that hot tub in his mind, but just as he was getting warmed physically from his meal and wine, there came the spritely and friendly and all the while bone-chilling sound of the welcome mat outside his apartment.

Quark held his breath, stiffened a moment, but then he smiled.

"I'll be right back," he chirped.

As he came to the door, he voice-commanded to allow the intruder to enter. Even as he did he wondered if he should have checked who was there first. He almost reached for his pistol still on his person, but his mother right before him made him only roll his eyes. Quickly he filled in the gap of space between himself and the doorway before she could push her way in too far.

"Mother?" he asked.

"We need to talk," said Ishka.

"Right now?" Quark demanded.

Though, she inwardly sounded fully serious enough to make his question seem rather vulgar.

He shook his head, and just as Ishka was beginning to speak, he managed out in a whisper, "I can't, I'm having dinner, and I don't have time to—"

He felt rather than saw Ishka's attention leaving him immediately to the sounds behind him. He did not have to look to know that the two women's eyes had met, and he felt his mother's disapproval of his entertaining at a time like this so much so that he lowered his head in shame despite himself.

Oh, he was going to have to tell everyone about her sooner than later anyway, and it was better than letting his mother think that he was risking playing with strange girls at a time like this.

Wasn't it better when girls simply stayed out of business? he could not help an old flame of his from sputtering in the back of his mind, but he pushed it aside like an old guard dog being overly protective.

H cleared his throat and again before Ishka could ask or Sharzee was forced to explain, Quark bowed his head respectfully.

"Mother," he said. "Allow me to introduce you to my wife."

"Your wife?" asked Ishka.

Quite on her feet now and well beyond the corner she had originally looked around, Sharzee bowed her head to the matriarch, though still some paces behind Quark.

"Sharlezeed daughter of Zarga," said Sharzee.

Surprisingly, Ishka suddenly sounded far more understanding of the situation— far more than a name she had never heard should.

"My son's original wife," she clarified and not without some good nature despite herself; though the humor in her tone almost indicated that she felt it more a joke on her son than on herself.

No one— not even Rom— had known anything about the marriage; though he should have known that his mother would have figured out about it in some way. A woman who at a time had not been allowed to earn profit somehow doing business with farming on another planet, could just as easily have figured out the legal escapades of her own son, and even easier when that son was head of the family and thus had more documentation in the FCA than most other Ferengi did, which was always a downside to being head of the family. A second son could in those days slip through the cracks easily if he so-chose. Quark had known many Ferengi who had (like Broik) hiding behind the ob-lappet with the ease of a rock-crab coiling up among a rocky seabed, but a bare-headed family head had (at least then— he was not so sure now) been a beacon of light among his fellows as if the stars of latinum could reflect a terrible sheen upon their uncovered scalps.

Politely, at least to the daughter-in-law on hand, Ishka smiled. Quark was forced by good manners to allow her in to make full acquaintance.

A woman, even traditionally in the hardest home of a Ferengi, had no obligation to say "along with all your possessions" to a man whose "house was his house", because his house was her house when there was relation between them anyway— a thing that some women seemed to forget these days when they wanted to be proprietors themselves. There was a contradiction somewhere there.

"Pleased to meet you, Sharlezeed," said the matriarch. "I am Ishka, daughter of Adred and Fereeshna."

"It is an honor to meet the mother of Quark," said Sharzee; she was yet a little surprised herself, but she held her poise just the same as ever.

And this was the point, despite the briefness of the next pause, Quark suddenly became quite the outsider as these two very different but very powerful women sized each other up, listening with all feminine prowess. Still standing in between them, he suddenly had this strange and overwhelming feeling of wanting to get out of their way as though standing between two beams that could, if triggered wrongly, explode in the middle had they found fault and decided to combat each other.

He did so with one swift stride to one side and waited patiently and most solemnly with wrists pressed together.

"Thank you," said Ishka then, and all tension lapsed.

"Okay," Quark half-breathed and half-laughed as he clasped his hands together; then he pointed towards dinner. "Why don't you… uh— join us for dinner then? Get to know the family, all together, right?"

Ishka smiled strangely at him, but cordially accepted the invitation.

As they all three came to the table, Quark said, "I thought you would have gone to the residence with Rom. We weren't expecting company."

Ishka waved her hand aside. "I shouldn't be too long. I'll just stay long enough for a serving and then I'll be on my way. I'm very happy for you, Quark."

"You… are? I mean, thank you. Thank you."

"For both of you," Ishka insisted.

"But how do you… know about," Quark shrugged as he glanced at Sharzee, "…us?"

"As a mother I felt it my business to know when my son had gotten himself into trouble at so young an age," said Ishka with tactful care, but she quickly shook her head as Sharzee began to dish some food up for her. "No, no, I can dish myself. Don't trouble yourself." Then back to Quark she said, "Didn't you wonder at all why you weren't pursued by anyone for it?"

"Well, Sharzee said her family hushed it up. How did you…"

Ishka waved her had aside a second firmer time.

"That's all past inventory," she said simply.

"But seriously, I…" he turned to Sharzee. "Did you know anything about this?"

"She was a female," retorted Ishka profoundly. "She wasn't allowed to know her brother and her father's business, Quark. But I will say this. She's good for you, and I knew she would show up eventually. She's a fine woman."

"Your son is a fine man," said Sharzee pleasantly.

Ishka smiled knowingly and finished dishing herself up a plate and pouring herself a glass of wine. Quark meanwhile quickly took it upon himself to give her a set of finger-tongs, but not nearly long enough for his mother and Sharzee to be alone for more than a second.

"Thank you," said Ishka beaming from ear to ear.

"So," said Quark breaking up this unnerving pleasantry as he seated himself in a business-like manner with hands folded over the table. "What is it that you were in such a hurry to say?"

"I apologize for interrupting your meal with business and politics," said Ishka to Sharzee.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all for me," Sharzee assured her not without glancing at Quark once or twice, "but Quark does need his rest, so I think we should keep business to a minimum. I was just calming him down myself from his stress that he needs to let go of."

"This will ease his mind, I believe, more than bring him further stress," Ishka said, and back to Quark, after a sip of wine, Ishka said casually, "Something has to be done about the current situation. The investigator Bogal has solved nothing yet. Nog has informed us that Starfleet is getting impatient with our seeming incompetence, but we have to prove them wrong, of course. Meegs in custody seems absolutely clueless about the situation with Rom's condition, and honestly so. Krax is still missing with no sign of Keeoopii. We're all at a stalemate, but I have a way to break it up. We need a new asset."

"What's that?" asked Quark.

"Belongo."

Quark raised a brow. "Belongo?"

"Well, Zekky and I have been talking, and we feel that Belongo is our best bet into balancing our side higher."

"Against whom, exactly?" asked Quark.

Ishka cocked her head suspiciously.

Quark shrugged. "I mean…"

"This is more serious than our family quibbles," said Ishka cheerfully. "Belongo is the nephew of Zek, the former Grand Nagus. He has knowledge of the events behind the scenes of Zek's reign when the negotiations between the Keeoopii and the traitors were made."

"Belongo knows more than Meegs?"

"He does," said Ishka quite seriously. "But Belongo does not have any intention of going back to Ferenginar. He'll be on Freecloud."

"Yeah, so, we send someone out to make a deal with him."

"Don't you think that would be a job better suited for the Grand Nagus in so delicate a matter?"

"Well, there's always a proxy."

"And who would you trust to send as your proxy?"

Quark frowned. "You want me to go."

He wanted to at least say that their family quibbles were the importance of the entire Alliance now because of his mother, so that, yes, he found them very serious and probably worth more than anything Belongo could possibly know that would be useful after several years in prison.

Why did she not say she wanted to be the Acting Nagus and be done with it? What was she hiding? What could she possibly be up to? Sometimes he could not help but think that the woman had gone completely insane and dangerously so. She had always been strong and always been opinionated, but ever since her decision to become political, it always felt like she had gone madder with power than a stereotypical Ferengi in a forgotten hall of treasure on some distant planet goes mad with latinum fever.

He might have simply said that he knew Ishka was the Shadow Nagus. She was the one truly in charge. Zek had surely secretly handed everything over to her. And if she was so great a Nagus why didn't she just be Nagus in full-face and be done with it instead of the big charade with Rom? It was not even anger anymore. Just frustration on Quark's part, but he could not speak like that. Not in front of Sharzee.

Besides, his irritation was almost unnatural. He could blame it on stress, and yet… it reminded him disturbingly of the mood-heightening of a Keeoopii over a host's emotions. Even the good emotions of eating dinner with his wife were a little… too absolute somehow. His head swam, his thoughts were even a little blurred, but his emotion was burning painfully.

He swallowed his fears down in a slow sip of wine. If he was under the control of a Keeoopii he would know it. The last one hardly kept it a secret once Quark knew; though after he had known he could look back and see how it had manipulated his mind with such ease from every emotional whim for too long a time before that.

This, what he was feeling now just had to be a normal reaction to stress. Nothing more, nothing less.

So, back to the matter at hand, was this strong suggestion of his mother, either way, the zephyr he had been waiting for? It was more like a gale-force wind, if it was, unless one considered it a zephyr hidden in a stronger wind with somewhat different intentions but leading in the end to the same goal.

No matter her true intention, Quark could not disagree that perhaps it would be better for him to leave the planet if someone was trying to blame him for something. If he was not there then he could not have done it? But then again, if it was something that had already been done, it would certainly be seen as fleeing the scene of the crime, which was an occurrence that every Ferengi understood.

"Rom and I have already spoken with the Congress of Economic Advisers," said Ishka interrupting his thoughts. "They're ready to vote in a proxy either for leaving to get Belongo or another Acting Nagus to stay here and you be the proxy."

"Why wasn't I told about this?"

"Because you were busy taking care of everything official," retorted Ishka.

"Don't I have a say in this?"

"That's what I came for, your say. And it will be noted."

"Then, no," said Quark calmly. "I'm staying here as Acting Nagus unless I hear it from the Grand Nagus' own mouth that he's ready to take his place."

Why was he being so contrary?

"You're going to deny stepping down?" Ishka warned.

"Then they've already taken the vote?" Quark said triumphantly.

"They just want to know your say before they make the final decision."

"Which you're obviously making for me, anyway. Why'd you even bother coming in here? I had my say, and that's what you can tell them. Though, they're probably going to make me proxy anyway, because—" and here he nearly bit his tongue from keeping himself from saying it was her influence.

Ishka heard it in everything else but words anyway, and she nodded quietly and proudly. There was something about her, however that also sounded slightly wounded. But it could not be Quark who caused it, could it? It had to be something else.

"Is there something you wish to tell me in private?" asked Quark in a very different tone then.

"No. I already told you what I wanted to say."

And with that she excused herself gregarious, though rather more wearily than usual. At last forgetting Sharzee, Quark stood up violently from his chair to chase after his mother.

"Moogee!" he snapped.

When the door shut behind them, he caught her by the arm.

"Moogee. You're the one who's caught up in family quibbles, not me. What are you afraid that I'll do if you tell me what's wrong?"

Ishka's eyes flashed as she glared at Quark.

"You shouldn't've become First Clerk," Ishka said calmly.

"That's not what's bothering you," he hissed; he paused. "Well, okay, not the only thing."

Ishka nodded patiently but with the gravest suspicion.

"Not what's got you upset right now," Quark went on. "I know you think you don't need me. I know you think that I'm in the way of your causes, but regardless of what you think of me, you're not impervious. You're afraid, and you can't hide it. Not even from me. If I was all you wished me to be, I would be your subservient male and obey you in worship, because my goddess had told me that she was impervious in arrogance above all self-proclaimed gods, but I don't believe you. Whatever else you call me, it would be difficult for me to forgive myself if I didn't use what little authority my station as head of the family means anymore to anyone to find out what's going on, and why it's got you all upset!"

Ishka wrenched her hand and Quark allowed her free, but she did not run. Though, she could not look at him.

"You're a good son, Quark," she said quietly, "and you've let go of the past far better than I have. You want a future that isn't what others have built up for themselves, but one that is best for Ferenginar to move on."

"What happened to you, Moogee?"

She shook her head. "Everything. Nothing. I'm too old for this."

"That doesn't answer the question. You're not yourself. What's wrong with you? Do you blame yourself for what happened to Rom? What?"

"Go back to your wife," said Ishka patting his hand again; if she was any taller she might have patted his head. "She's a good woman and you need her."

"That's another, how do you know anything about Sharlezeed even if you do know about our secret marriage?"

"She was a leading member of the Women's Restitution movement in Lagoran," said Ishka. "She was a revolutionary that I could only dare to dream to be, but something had stopped me from going that far."

"What was that?"

"Your father's memory."

Quark was taken aback; he almost got angry. He didn't know why, and just as he was about to retaliate, he stopped himself. He thought a moment.

"I don't know if you're crazy or I am," he said, "but are you trying to convince me that you're right about something, or are you trying to convince me that Sharlezeed is not good for me?"

Ishka huffed and rolled her eyes.

"It's not like you to be so circularly emotional like this," said Quark. "I feel like everyone, has been on repeat since… it's almost like…"

His own eyes narrowed.

"Were you checked for parasites before you entered the Tower?" he asked hollowly.

"What are you talking about?" Ishka demanded. "Everyone is."

"Right… everyone is…" repeated Quark. "You said even Bogal had nothing of value to report."

Ishka studied her son carefully a moment. "Us arguing is nothing new."

"But us putting our differences aside for something mutual isn't either," muttered Quark. "And saving Rom and stopping traitors and parasites should be enough of a mutual thing."

A quivering feeling wavered up Quark's spine as if he could feel a Keeoopii under his shirt slithering like a snake towards an ear. Nothing was there, of course, but the surreal mood of his dream danced dizzily in the back of his mind if only for a moment. It was a feeling not unlike when he had called the Tower when he first realized Bashir's device was no longer keeping the parasite in his head at bay. Only this time it was that of a larger scale like an ocean tidal wave in comparison with a splash, and he was not one hundred percent certain this time. It was the uncertainty that made him shiver most of all.