Chapter 9

“YOU’RE NOT,” ASTALL SAID. Kaz was staring moodily into the computer screen, going over and over the documentation that Patel had found on the creatures.

“I’m not what?” he asked absently, his blue eyes roaming over the evidence.

“Going crazy,” said Astall.

He chuckled and turned to look at her. “Coming from you, that’s reassuring,” he said. He turned back to the screen. “But the facts certainly seem insane. How could these things be human? And match Fortier’s and Chakotay’s DNA so closely? It boggles the mind.”

Astall shrugged her narrow shoulders. “The concept of life on other worlds boggled the great minds of every single civilization, once. I’m just curious as to how. And speaking of ‘how,’ how did the captain react?”

Kaz thought about it. Chakotay was as much an explorer and an adventurer as he was a leader, and yet he didn’t seem to have much of a reaction beyond

annoyance.

“He wants to talk to me before we say anything to anyone.”

“Too late,” said Astall brightly. “I’ve already told Patel. I thought you heard her whoop of delight all the way from her quarters.”

Oops, thought Kaz, but he wasn’t really worried. He couldn’t imagine Chakotay not wanting to dive into this mystery. And yet

“I know you haven’t had a chance to talk to him about his sister’s death,” Kaz said. “But what’s your general impression?”

“It was odd that he insisted on being the one to recover the shuttlecraft,” Astall said. “My assumption was that he wanted some time alone, to collect himself before stepping back into his role as captain.” She hesitated slightly, but Kaz was getting to know the Huanni pretty well by this point.

“But?” he pressed.

“I don’t know him particularly well. But it just didn’t seem like the sort of thing he would do. And it definitely strikes me as odd that he didn’t want to retrieve poor Sekaya’s remains.” Quick tears filled her eyes. “I liked her a great deal. I would have liked to have paid my own respects. And it’s what her people would have wanted.”

A flash of a memory filled Kaz’s mind; a memory that was not Jarem’s. A betrayal by someone he trusted.

“You all right, Gradak?” The voice belonged to Arak Katal, who was looking at him with concern in his eyes.

Gradak Kaz ran his hands though his graying hair. Funny, he thought; it hadn’t been gray so very long ago. It had never been gray while Vallia was alive. His heart contracted and he wondered if he would ever recover from the shock his system had endured when he learned what his beloved had undergone at the hands of the Butcher, Crell Moset. He hadn’t believed the rumors; hadn’t wanted to believe them. Surely, not even the Cardassians could be so without compassion. Surely, the rumors of vivisection, of deliberate mutilation and callous observation, of planned infections, surely these were just frightening tales dreamed up by a frightened people.

“Jarem?”

This man had offered sympathy, had offered a means of revenge. Had convinced so many to trust him, and yet he had deliberately set the Cardassians and the Jem’Hadar upon innocent children. No one could be trusted. Everyone was planning something behind his back. There was a conspiracy. These creatures were tortured beings, like Vallia had been tortured, by the monstrous Cardassians—

He whirled at the touch of a hand on his shoulder, and it took fully three seconds before he recognized Astall.

“Jarem, I’m really worried about you. I think we should bring Vorik into this.”

He ignored her statement, staring with fresh, suddenly seeing eyes. He stabbed a finger at the screen.

“Gradak thinks it’s a conspiracy,” he said hoarsely. “And I’m not so sure he isn’t right.”

The Changeling braced himself when he entered sickbay. To his irritation and sudden worry, he saw not just Kaz, but the Huanni and Patel all clustered around the computer. As one, they looked up when he entered.

“What’s this all about, Kaz?” “Chakotay” demanded.

“Atrocities,” said Kaz promptly. Astall nudged him and he amended, “or at the very least a tragedy that demands investigation.”

The Changeling was suddenly glad he’d taken the time to order Tare to head for Earth at warp eight. It would buy him a little time, at least. He had a sick feeling he knew what was coming.

“Explain.”

“Our levelheaded science officer Patel kept her wits sufficiently about her to get a good, solid scan of one of the creatures even as it attacked her.”

Little Patel stood up slightly straighter, and although her eyes were modestly cast down, she was clearly appreciative of the compliment.

The Changeling knew what response was expected of him, and even as he wished he could throttle the troublesome human, he said, “Good work, Patel.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Things were fairly quiet, so I analyzed the data she’d collected,” Kaz continued. “Captain—I told you that I found human DNA in these creatures. Not humanoid—human.” He paused to let his captain absorb this information. “And there’s more. It’s specific human DNA. And I’ve identified it.”

“Who?” demanded “Chakotay.”

Kaz swallowed and exchanged glances with the two women who flanked him. “Marius Fortier’s. And

yours.”

It was a huge leap. How the hell had Kaz managed to make it? This was not supposed to happen. He should have been well away from here with no one the wiser. And yet, thanks to the curious Patel and the startlingly astute Kaz, the Changeling realized he had two choices: He could continue to proceed according to plan, thus arousing suspicions even more, or he could act like Chakotay would.

He wished he’d let the creatures kill Patel and the others after all.

Fortunately, he’d been expecting this, judging from what Kaz had said so far, and he was ready with an explanation. But he couldn’t make it look as though it came too quickly. So the Changeling opened his mouth slightly in an expression of shock, and leaned a bit heavily on Kaz’s desk, and wiped his forehead. Astall went up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. He wanted to slap her.

“I don’t understand. How is this possible?” he replied, feigning shock. He felt Astall watching him closely. “There’s got to be an error somewhere.”

“Believe me, Captain, that was our first thought,” said Patel. “We double-and triple-checked everything. It’s all there.”

“Chakotay” rubbed his chin, thinking frantically. How much had they learned?

“Kaz, what made you run a specific DNA check?” he asked finally.

Kaz laughed a little, but it was cold laughter. “Call it a hunch,” he said. “If you had the memories of a Maquis who’d lost a Bajoran wife to Cardassian experimentation, it might have occurred to you, too.”

Damn the man. Damn his dead wife, and damn himself for not remembering this. He’d known Vallia Kaz, known exactly how she’d died. It was what had brought Crell Moset and his work to the Changeling’s attention in the first place. He was slipping, slipping badly, and if he didn’t watch himself, it would be his undoing.

“Of course,” he said, putting a hint of sympathy into his voice. “I hadn’t though about that.”

“My theory is that the colonists were somehow transformed into the creatures that attacked the away team,” Kaz continued. “It’s the only explanation for why there’s Fortier DNA in that creature. Whether it was some bizarre accident—I don’t know, a transporter malfunction or something—or deliberate genetic manipulation, I can’t tell.”

“That theory provides at least a tentative explanation for why there’s Fortier DNA present,” said Patel. “But what’s really puzzling me is how Captain Chakotay’s DNA got into the mix.”

“Me, too,” said the Changeling earnestly.

“This does lend credence to the genetic-manipulation theory versus an accident,” said Patel.

“Chakotay” sighed and straightened. “Kaz, you were right. We should bring the rest of the senior staff in on this.”

“And Fortier’s people as well,” said Astall promptly. “They have a right to know what we think happened to their families. If the evidence can be trusted, then Patel was attacked by Marius’s brother.”

“Chakotay” fought the urge to grind his teeth. Informing the colonists would be exactly what Chakotay would do. He was open, forthright. He didn’t like to keep secrets unless it was necessary to security, and the Changeling suspected that this was poised on the brink of metamorphosing into something very big if he didn’t navigate carefully. Cries of “but why?” would go up if he didn’t tell Fortier what was going on.

“Of course,” he said, trying to sound sincere. “Kaz, Patel—I want you two to work up a presentation. I’ll call a meeting of the senior staff at 0600 tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” they said, both in chorus, like some sort of musical theater performers.

He put a puzzled expression on his face. “I assume it would take you that long to prepare.”

“We can be ready in, what, Patel, an hour?” said Kaz. Patel nodded her head vigorously. “I’ve done most of the research anyway on my own,” Kaz continued, “before bringing it to you.”

“Chakotay” smiled easily. “Of course you would have. Two hours, then. Just to double-check your research.” He hesitated, then motioned to Kaz. The doctor rose and the two walked a little bit away from the others.

“How are you doing?” the Changeling inquired solicitously. A fair question, and, he hoped, one that would make Kaz give him necessary information.

“Well enough,” Kaz said. “My isoboromine levels were elevated, but I’ve been able to keep them down with medication. I’ve told Astall I’m prepared to call Vorik in for assistance if Gradak becomes too big of a problem.” He paused, then added, “I’m still quite fit for duty, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

The Changeling thought frantically. What were isoboromine levels? Something to do with the Trill symbiont, judging from the context. What would Vorik be able to do about it? Gradak was becoming a problem? Was he trying to assert dominance over Jarem Kaz?

He looked up and met Astall’s concerned gaze. He waved her over as well, wondering if Patel would feel excluded. He needn’t have worried. She plopped herself down in Kaz’s chair and immediately set to work, much more engrossed in solving a scientific mystery than in getting involved in real people’s problems.

Which suited his needs perfectly.

“Astall, what do you think about Kaz?” he said, again posing an open-ended question that would give him the information he needed without revealing the level of his ignorance.

She flapped her long ears gently. “As well as can be expected,” she said. “When he told me what he’d found, I thought he was

what is the human phrase

moving around the curve?”

“Chakotay” laughed. He’d been around humans long enough to know this one. “Going around the bend,” he corrected.

“But then I saw it myself and, well.” She threw up her hands in an eloquent gesture. “He’s all right for now. Gradak seems to be kept sufficiently at bay when Kaz is occupied. When there’s nothing for him to do

.”

“He comes out again,” Kaz said quietly.

The Changeling regarded Kaz. The Trill met his gaze evenly.

The Changeling thought about it. Gradak resurfacing could be a bad thing or a good thing. Gradak and Chakotay had known Arak Katal, had liked him, had trusted him. It was Gradak’s sense of paranoia that had caused Kaz to think about genetic manipulation rather than a freak accident. That sense of paranoia could be dangerous.

On the other hand, if Kaz were fighting his own personal demons, he might not notice or care if his captain said or did something out of the ordinary.

“I trust both of you,” he said, as Chakotay would. “You’re Starfleet officers. You’ll put the safety of your fellow crewmen above all else. I trust that neither of you will let this get out of hand.”

“No, sir. Thank you, sir,” said Kaz.

“Report to the briefing room in two hours,” said Chakotay. “And be prepared for the sounds of jaws hitting the floor during your presentation.” He strode toward the door.

“Captain?” called Kaz.

The Changeling froze. “Yes?” he said, turning around.

“Now that you’re back from Loran II, I’d really like to treat those injuries.”

“Chakotay” laughed, one hand going to his face to touch the “wounds.” “I’d forgotten about them. Don’t worry about it, Kaz. You need to concentrate on preparing that presentation for the senior staff.”

“Yes,” said Patel absently, staring at the computer screen. “He does.”

Kaz hesitated, clearly torn between two aspects of his duty as doctor.

“It’s all right,” the Changeling said. “There’ll be plenty of time to examine me once your presentation is over. I’ll be a good patient, I promise.”

The smile bled from his face as he turned and strode out of the room. He was grateful for the inadvertent reminder Kaz had given him. He needed to get to his quarters and take the reversal drug as soon as the proper amount of time had elapsed. Then he could safely submit to any scan Kaz might want to put him through.

“Hurry up, Moset,” he muttered under his breath. He didn’t know how much longer he could wait, now that success was so very near.