JMJ

Chapter Twenty-One

Where the Heart is

Quark had a strange feeling, and one he could not quite shake, that something was going to happen that would change his life forever on this little quest for Belongo. Dramatic? Maybe. It wasn't the first time, though.

He could not imagine what that something could be considering his life had already been changed so drastically by his last misadventure with the Keeoopii. How would the misadventure rescuing Belongo be any different than saving his mother from the Dominion during his DS9 days, except without his cousin Gaila or Brunt, which was a plus right there.

Though, with that little escapade in mind, he did recall Lek. Lek had made him promise to call him in such a case as a Ferengi "rescue" again, and Quark did anticipate this rescue of Belongo being a terribly unprofessional catastrophe even if they did manage it in the end. He wouldn't mind Lek being there for it, actually. He would have called him, but he had called him to find Krax almost a year ago already, and Lek had not been heard from in months…

That was already a dark cloud growing darker in the back of his mind, especially if Belongo was in the same shadow as Krax.

But if not Lek, if there was anything in the feeling of life-changing foreboding other than the post-traumatic stress of being controlled by an emotion-eating parasite, he was glad it was going to be with Sharzee at least.

This might have been romantic had it simply been the two of them side by side as the Star Seeker tore through the atmosphere. Quark smiled at Sharlezeed as the stars reflected in her amber eyes. The stars were made of latinum, but, "home is where the heart is", and as in the loosely translated Human maxim that had a similar sound to it, it did not always mean a Ferengi's heart was left at home on the planet of his birth. It meant that where one's heart lied was where home was.

It was not just keeping her safely where he could see her that he was happy he was seeing her. He may not have caught up with her entirely yet, but he was at home with her here among the stars more than he ever had been at the Tower of Commerce or anywhere on Ferenginar really. He could almost say he understood Zek's love for his mother after working tirelessly in that same Tower not trusting anyone or anything in accordance with Rule Number 99. Even though Zek once had told him it was always a game of distrust between them, it was more a game of balancing trust than not.

Did he trust Sharlezeed? No. Not entirely, but he felt he could trust that her intention to keep the relationship between them was honest, and it was a wonderful thing. His heart swelled both with pride and humility at once.

If only… he thought, but he stopped himself if only because he was not sure himself where he was going with that.

How typical of being in love! Yet it felt like the first time he had ever felt it— or that anyone had felt it. It was as though it was something he had just discovered passing through the atmosphere like some boy first discovering the wonders of the universe after living in the backwaters of Ferenginar with ears itching for latinum in his hands.

He shook his head, and Sharzee looked at him with a funny sort of pout as she discovered him staring at her so. Lovingly he scrunched his nose into a sneer before giving her a breathtaking kiss.

Nog and Bennar exchanged glances, but for the most part ignored them. The older Ferengi were acting as stupid as children in love at first sight. Not unlike Zek and Ishka's fresh romance, but the comparison did not make Quark stop.

For Nog's part, Quark was sure he regretted Sharzee coming most of all, if not just regretting coming himself and not insisting Bashir go instead. Sharzee kissed Quark quite whole-heartedly back, after all, before she smacked his chest rather too gently to even feign offence and sneered at him back with leering eyes.

"So," said Quark straightening himself; though he almost leaned in to kiss her again before deciding better of it.

He stepped aside while Nog was still monitoring the controls and he lifted up a PADD to examine the fruits of Bennar's earlier inventory.

"The menu's set," said Quark. "Decent replicator. Some good drinks. A quick makeover of the ship will be our main duty till we reach the port at Stardust City and then… we hire Belongo. Simple enough."

"You sound like you need convincing," said Sharzee crossing her arms.

"And you sound like you think I need a problem," retorted Quark.

She was not at all amused at that, and Quark turned away guilty as charged, but his smile did not in the least bit wane even if he did clear his throat to force the topic onward.

"Well, I can't help but feel like we left in such a hurry that we'll find out we've forgotten something before too long," said Sharzee looking at Nog now more than Quark.

"Everything will be fine. My mother has everything under control," said Quark.

"And that's what you're afraid of," Nog could not help but comment.

"That's what everyone's afraid of," said Quark gravely. "Including her. You didn't see her yesterday. You wouldn't've liked leaving her alone either if you'd seen her, and your father's not in such good shape either— not just because of the pyrocyte."

He could hear Nog's hesitation. His resentment against Quark's resentment, as it were, faded as he considered the truthfulness of Quark's words. Nog knew him well enough to know that he was serious enough about his family not to lie about them when it counted.

So much for worrying about Bennar. He was the one staying out of the way, because he knew what was good for him. The highly-strung Highlanders were going to make this a long trek to Freecloud if they were not careful.

Closing his eyes with a huff, Quark prayed right then and there that he had the strength to do this, because he knew he sure didn't feel like he did. In fact the longer he was out here the weaker he felt, and this time he stared out at the stars like an old disillusioned DaiMon rather than a young lover.

Sharzee studied him a moment with a very sober eye.

"Don't put it all on yourself, Quark," she said quietly but very severely.

He glanced back at her and nodded heavily, but there was one thing he knew. His mind seemed to be working faster out here than in that stuffy old Tower. In fact now that he was away from it, it was as if he had been under murky water and finally found himself free and breathing fresh air again. What did that say about those they were leaving behind? He recalled now his suspicions about the accuracy of the scanners and the possibility of Keeoopii infiltration right in the heart of Ferenginar, but if there was a problem, he knew he had to count on Dr. Bashir, and maybe having Pel on guard was not a bad idea either rather than either of them coming with him.

It was that foreboding feeling again. He still couldn't shake it. He flopped down into a chair and rubbed his temple.

"Belongo better not be a waste of time," he muttered.

"Why, do you think he is?" asked Sharzee.

Quark smiled. "I can bet he's going to give us a lot of grief either way."

"Then it's a bet no one's willing to wager against you," said Nog. "I know he's not going to be fooled by us."

"Then who are we fooling?" asked Bennar annoyed; he paused. "Sir?"

Nog looked suspiciously at Quark again.

"Okay," breathed Quark. "I'm starting to know how Sisko feels. Is that why you haven't let yourself be promoted to captain yet, Nog?"

"Just ride the River, Uncle, and calm down," retorted Nog; then to his aunt and said, "Have you learned how to fly yet, Aunt?"

"No, Sir."

"Then please come and I'll show you the basics," said Nog. "Ferengi crafts are always simple in design to fly efficiently and easily. Not like other species' crafts."

"Yeah, you should try to fly a Vulcan ship," said Quark.

"With pleasure, Sir," said Sharzee.

"Though, as the one with the least amount of knowledge, you will only be flying as a last resort," said Nog.

"Of course, Sir."

"Call me 'nephew' if you want to," said Nog stiffly.

"Nephew," said Sharzee with a bow.

Nog smiled with approval.

Good. This is good. They're getting to know each other like family. As long as they don't use it against me later, he teased himself…. or they don't end up fighting like Sharzee and my mother after five minutes of me leaving them alone…

"Well," he said to Bennar suddenly. "Let's see about setting up the bar and getting some color into this drab place. People will think we're serving rust mites."

"I happen to like rust mites," laughed Sharzee after him.

"Pfft. I'm sure you do," mocked Quark back. "With sap and a little grub juice, I'm sure anything's possible."

"And a little pomtairee wine," said Sharzee.

"Or a lot," sniffed Nog with distaste; there was nothing more bitter than a rust mite.

#

Investigators were well respected on Ferenginar traditionally as much as they were loathed, but then most of the "ors" were. The difference between Investigators in comparison to Liquidators or Eliminators was that Investigators were, at least in Bogal's opinion, always meant to reveal truth and not to harm anyone. Making profit of the truth was something that a seasoned Ferengi could be proud of, especially when working for the government. He had stopped assassinations, rooted out foreign plots against Nagi, and even stopped the theft of a terrible traitorous Ferengi in the reign of Zek who had tried to steal the original copy of Grand Nagus Gint's highly respected Rules of Acquisition— penned out in the oldest version of Salable Ferengi, one of a kind, worth more than the current Nagus' salary, some say the whole of the Ferenginar— ah! What a fortune to his name that had been. It had made him the richest Investigator on the planet, perhaps the whole Alliance, and the clients he had received afterwards were all impressed with how he had weaseled so much money out of Zek for the cause almost as much as how well he stopped the thief.

But the funny thing about what he discovered right now was that he felt as though he had discovered this all before. Surely he had. It sounded so familiar, and yet… suspicions had risen before that someone was playing mind games with him. He wanted to speak with Nagus Rom directly for the delicate nature of this plot he was just discovering… or rediscovering, but he would have to do with a transmition not to be suspicious, secure lines and the works. He was even taking the steps rather than the lift to get to ground floor of the Tower of Commerce. His mind hazed even as he rushed as though the Tower itself was trying to stop him by wrangling his brain with ropes to stop him as though he was an animal trying to escape its pen.

He reached the main lobby, a very large and grand mall-like hall with pillars made of gold-pressed latinum, tiles of marble, and store fronts of crystal glass.

"Ah! Bogal!"

He almost hissed as he spun around.

It was Neshesh, the husband of Ooaseel in his floating fishbowl. It was quieter than most, especially in a place that was so noisy and full of people. Bogal had almost taken it as a fishbowl floating further away in his flight, but he should have known better.

"Before you go, the Acting Nagus would like a report from you."

A speaker spoke for him as his bubbly words would have meant little to even the Universal translator. The UT's job was only to translate the words from the speaker that were converted from true Clarusian speech, but it was that universal translator that Bogal was suspicious of these days more than Neshesh, especially after what he found out. After speaking with Rom, he was going to have his removed immediately. Maybe permanently.

He thought of bolting out the door, but refusing an order from a nagus, even an acting one, could be questioned for treason. An Investigator knew the law as well as any Liquidator. They were not unknown for working together in certain developments, but although Bogal was confident he could escape prison and even trial if he played his cards right, there was no way he could avoid being caught be guards at that very moment in a sudden plunge into the stormy streets.

He bowed his head and seethed for only a few seconds. Then he proudly held his head and relented to being led by Neshesh, a crony more than a husband as far as Bogal was concerned. Although Clarusians had very minimal facial muscles for expression, Bogal knew Clarusians enough to hear his insides squeal with pleasure with the power he had over Bogal, but Bogal grinned toothily and snidely and even a touch sleazily despite himself. He followed Neshesh to the lift.

He bowed with reverence to Ooaseel in the Nagal throne before he paid his respects at the turnstile-like walkway through the wide circular door. Then he bowed again holding his wrists together with full respect.

"Acting Nagus Ooaseel!" said Bogal with a straight-faced lie. "I'm afraid I have nothing to report."

"But I was told that you were leaving in a hurry," said Ooaseel, her voice full of concern.

"I was following something up," said Bogal. "I don't want to say anything unless I know for sure."

"Perhaps a bar or two might entice you to your hints?" her voice was gentle and kindly. It always sounded like that even when she was not so kindly. It was the voice of a siren some said lulling all around her into her sway.

Bogal sighed. "Five."

He could not fight it too much without sounding suspicious.

"Five it is, Bogal," said Ooaseel.

Once the bars were safely sent to his account, Bogal bowed again and said, "But afterwards we must contact the Residence."

"Of course," said Ooaseel. "Nothing that I hear is not reported to the Nagus in time, but he is terribly unfit for terrible news."

Neshesh's eyes shifted oddly in his head from his wife to Bogal and back again. He was like a robot designed to have loyalty only to one and to all else he was a creature of doom, but Bogal had his doubts that even his loyalty to her was without cost from her. There was a brain and very calculating one behind that blank fish-like face.

Bogal could not help but wonder what sort of romantic relationship they could possibly share, but it was none of his business even if he felt that what he was going to reveal was none of theirs.

"I heard from very reliable sources," said Bogal, "that…"

"Yes?" Ooaseel pressed, lounging languidly in her chair in a way that made Bogal bristle again if only on the inside. She was more like an empress than a true Nagus.

She was petting some foreign animal and wearing clothes between that of an Orion sex slave and a barbarian queen ready for sentient sacrifice. In his opinion, which was much like most others on Ferenginar, a woman should choose whether to follow the old way of full nakedness in simplicity or to be fully clothed like a sensible person, but these purposeful arrows in her attire had no place in work out of a brothel.

"There is evidence from the city that I have. Not with me. But I can prove the work of foreign technology creating a link between the Keeoopii scanners and the universal translators implanted into the brains of most people who frequent the Tower of Commerce. It triggers a part of the near impenetrable Ferengi brain to reduce pyrocyte intake and slow the whole mind down."

"You mean that you have actual proof," said Ooaseel with scrutinizing care as she sat up in her throne, "that two of our most valuable tools at this time are being used against us?"

"Well, we knew something was."

"The Grand Nagus himself with the help of his Federation doctor is already on the case of trying to study the scanners," said Neshesh.

"But they won't figure it out," Bogal insisted. "I may not be a scientist, but as a detective, I've gleaned enough to understand that by itself it is useless even if obviously sabotaged enough to elude passing Keeoopii. They won't figure out the full damage without knowing its connection with the UT. I suggest that we have everyone in the Tower remove them from their brains. Immediately."

"Have you removed yours?" asked Ooaseel.

"Well, I was planning on it," said Bogal with a huff, "but I don't think it's working quickly enough on most people to be as dangerous immediately as with the Grand Nagus."

"I see," said Ooaseel pausing for a moment.

Bogal waited patiently, his low jowls rather mastiff-like and more than ever now as he glowered watchfully. It was the way she sounded more than her tone.

He didn't like it. Not one bit.

She feared his news. Not because of denial did she resent it but because of full understanding already…

His fear was racing through him stronger than it should be. Was it part of the Keeoopii's trap? His mind was not working very well. He should have left the Tower sooner. No. He should not have come back to the Tower at all! But he had. Why? He had been compelled to clean up his office here first as if it was important, but he should have known. He was smarter than this, wasn't he? Was he really more a fool than he ever thought? The man who saved Gint's Rule Book.

Well, perhaps a fool, but not because of coming back here, but being in denial earlier in believing he could handle himself. His pride had been his undoing otherwise he would have given into another suspicion which had been haunting him. Was it too late to blame it on the thinning of his pyrocyte and the weakening of his mind?

Ooaseel was smiling.

"I'm infected," Bogal cracked.

Panic overtook him now, blind panic. He hissed, but the parasite in his head only wanted him to feel more of his fear in an overwhelming blindness like a snowstorm on Andoria. Like mud stirred up at the bottom of Ferenginar Swamp in a submersible craft.

How long the parasite been there? Probably not long, but it had been waiting. Waiting as it dug its tentacles into his brain. He already knew that most scanners did not work, and now he had the biggest proof of all for that, and one he could show no one now. Was it yesterday they got him? A week ago? Was it simply when they had hired him in the first place?

"You are being merged," he heard Ooaseel say, her voice echoing as he slump to his knees in full weakness before his victors, before the pirates whose loot was his soul. "It can be painful, but the pain will end. Stop fighting it."

Stop fighting it, the Keeoopii seemed to whisper like a nightmare in his head, echoing Ooaseel's words the more. Your fear is only making it easier for us and more painful for you.

No, the technology weakening our pyrocyte levels is turning our brains to mush for you, he thought back with the last fight he could muster in retaliation; though he remembered clearly that speaking to a Keeoopii only entwined it further into the host's brain.

So prejudiced, so used to being advantaged, you don't know what it means to give up your selfish ego to the good of others and of the good of all…

He felt so feeble, so small, so helpless.

This poor woman has been hurt for so long by your caste. Be one with her and one with me and one with the universe in all its gentle beauty. The stars made of latinum can be yours on the planet if you allow Ferenginar itself to be a star in its own right. Too much of one and not enough of the other? Merge them all into one and then there will be no need for the strife in the life of a Ferengi.

"The life of a Ferengi…" slurred Bogal.

Neshesh sniggered a bubbling gurgling Clarusian laugh, but Ooaseel shoved his bowl aside for rudeness. Like the stooge he was, he watched now content in silence. Or at least he pretended to be content.

The Acting Nagus stepped up from her throne like a ghost. Or maybe he was beginning to lose control of what he saw. She seemed to glide as though on liquid towards him, and as she neared him, rage boiled within his heart alongside his terror. That was what she wanted. He felt almost like he wanted to bite her for hatred. He hissed a second time, loud and fierce like a savage, like a frightened starving child. He was a seasoned Investigator, but that meant nothing here.

Instead of biting, he managed to claw at her, shoving her away like a cat's desperate attempt against some monstrous canine, but she was hardly pushed anywhere.

She stepped back pleasantly in fact and laughed in that twinkling way she was known for. How cold and heartless it sounded now like metal chinks tinkling on a barge on an empty foggy night on the Swamp below the causeways and platforms.

She was one of them. One of those who allowed the parasites to come back, she was truly one of the merged, and one of the traitors. Right here, she possessed the Nagal throne.

Ferenginar is already merging, Bogal, the Keeoopii pressured like squeezing the thought into his brain from two sides of a press to stamp it there forever or to squeeze the old thoughts of his brain out like snail juice.

"You krokatwa witch!" Bogal snarled choking on his drool; he tried to reach for his phase pistol, but he fumbled only at bits of cloth coat, waistcoat and buckles. "Down to the Vault!"

She kicked him smoothly in the chest with a very sharp boot tightly buttoned to her naked ankle. He felt the pain through his coat, but he felt his rage boiling, raw and foaming now. It made it worse instead of helping him hold back to know she was doing this on purpose to make him lose control faster to his emotions, to enslave him to his own frustration.

All he could see was her now, hovering over him like a beautiful demon, and she kissed him right on the mouth. He spat out the taste of her as though trying to make himself retch, but she quickly caught him by the ear. He squealed in protest, but she had immobilized him by clutching that tender appendage between the claws as though to punch holes into it.

"Poor little man," the Acting Nagus cooed. "Poor, poor pathetic little man. Are you afraid of a harmless female? The future, you know… this throne will belong to a goddess of death, beautiful and cunning and more powerful than any of the sons of Gint."

Her emotions, her hatred, her fears were obviously all-consuming to her. What she thought she was doing to save her world or what she would get out of this, Bogal wanted no part of it, but that last bit of surging rage lost his mind to him as though disintegrated into a molten pot of soup.