CHAPTER 17

“I KNOW ALL ABOUT the Orb,” Jake said.

Jadzia Dax looked up at him from her science station in Ops and thought again how much Jake reminded her of his father. “I see. And which Orb would that be?”

Jake leaned in close, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know. The one that was stolen from the Cardassians. The one that Quark's trying to sell. The one that all the smugglers are after.” His eyebrows moved rapidly up and down as if to signal her that he was telling her something particularly special.

Jadzia found the rather juvenile gesture endearing, and she adored the feeling it gave her—that she was joining a game in progress. Her love of play had not been a characteristic of any one of her past hosts more than another. She shared it equally with all of them, because after a few centuries of life it had become obvious to the full series of Dax's hosts that opportunities for fun must be exploited at every turn. Over the centuries, such opportunities came by far too seldom.

Thus, Jadzia leaned even closer to Jake, made her own whisper even softer, and attempted to move her eyebrows up and down as he had. “This is for your novel, right?”

“No,” Jake said. “This is for real. I've figured it all out, Jadzia, but I haven't been able to tell my dad yet. Do you know where he is?”

Jadzia sat back. Jake wasn't playing a game after all. “You just missed him. He beamed over to the Defiant.”

“Beamed over? Isn't the ship docked?” Jake seemed troubled by her news.

Jadzia hesitated. She was well aware that Sisko made it a firm rule to never mislead or lie to his son. But Sisko's present mission was classified and he had left orders instructing that no one be given details about what O'Brien and Arla were doing with the Defiant's sensors. So she compromised. “The Chief's testing some new equipment modifications,” she said, neither lying nor telling the whole truth. “They're just fifty kilometers out.”

“Can I beam over?” Jake asked.

“This wouldn't be a good time. Your dad's really busy.”

“I know he is—because of the Orbs and the Cardassians and . . . well, everything. But I'm trying to help and—”

Jadzia held a hand up to forestall any further mention of the Orbs as she took a quick look around Ops. Again his father's son, Jake caught on right away and waited quietly for her next instruction. Jadzia's cursory visual sweep of the staff revealed to her that several of them were close enough to be half paying attention to what Jake was saying. Just in case he was on to something, she decided, his father's office would be a more prudent location for the details of whatever it was Jake had discovered.

Discreetly signalling that he follow her, Jadzia ushered Jake up to the steps and then escorted him to Sisko's office. The instant the door had closed behind them, she asked Jake how he knew about the Orb. “Did your father tell you?”

“No. I figured it out on my own. At least, I figured it out when I was talking with Nog. I mean, I heard that Vash was supposed to be after some rare Bajoran artifact. And I figured that the only type of artifact valuable enough to motivate people to commit murder—well, it had to be an Orb.”

Jadzia sat down on the corner edge of Sisko's desk as she mulled over what Jake had learned on his own and tried to decide how much she should reveal to him, in turn.

“Well?” Jake asked. “Am I right?”

Oh, why not? Jadzia thought. Jake's very intelligent. He's even able to work out the convolutions of Vulcan murder mysteries—the true test of intellect. Maybe it was time she started thinking of him as an asset to the investigation and not merely as Sisko's son.

“All right,” she said, “let's talk about this. But,” she cautioned the eager youngster, “you can't tell anyone else what we've discussed except for your father. He'll let you know if you can tell anyone else. And that means Nog.”

Jake nodded vigorously. “So, it is an Orb!”

“Yes and no,” Jadzia said. “Vash said it was an Orb, maybe more than one. Something special called a Red Orb of Jalbador.”

“I was right!”

“But,” Jadzia added, “Major Kira says the Red Orbs are just a legend. They don't exist.”

Jake looked confused. “Why would Cardassians come to Deep Space 9 to get back something that doesn't exist?”

“The Cardassians say they are here to claim the bodies Rom and O'Brien found in the power conduit.”

“A cover story,” Jake said with a dismissive shake of his head.

“Maybe so,” Jadzia allowed. “I didn't meet with them. But apparently a delegation of Bajoran monks also came aboard to demand that the bodies not be turned over, so someone thinks those bodies are important.”

Jake's face took on a faraway look. He stared past her and through the large viewport behind his father's desk, muttering as if speaking only to himself. “So there's got to be a connection. . . .”

“Between what and what?”

“The Orbs and the bodies.”

Jadzia sighed. A discussion of real facts and logical supposition was one thing. Making up fairy tales was another. “One major problem,” she said as she eased off the desk and got to her feet. “The bodies are real, Jake. The Orbs still might not be.”

Jake raised a triumphant finger. “Aha! My point exactly. A minute ago, you said that Major Kira said they didn't exist. But now you're saying they might not exist. What else aren't you telling me?”

Jadzia pursed her lips in admiration. The kid had her. “Well, you're not alone. Julian thinks the Orbs might be real, too.”

Jake's shoulders went back and he straightened up to his full, impressive height. It was almost as if she were watching the actual inflation of Jake's ego. She could just imagine what he was telling himself—that he, a mere novice writer, had independently reached the same conclusion as DS9's genetically enhanced medical genius.

“Before you give yourself the Carrington Award,” Jadzia said drily, “there might be a few more details to consider.”

Jake's increased enthusiasm was all too evident to Jadzia. But it was too late to turn back. She had brought him into the investigation and now she would have to try to control his participation—for his own sake and hers. “Like what?” he asked, ready, it seemed, for anything she might ask of him.

“For one, where's Quark?”

“I've figured that out, too.”

Jadzia sat back down, wondering if he had the ability to surprise her again, and half hoping he could. “Have you, now?”

“Sure. My dad knows exactly where he is, or Odo does or someone like that. Because otherwise, everyone would be looking for him. And since they're not . . . I don't know, maybe they're using him for bait to catch more of the smugglers.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Jadzia said, getting up from the desk. Jake's ideas were at the predictable level after all. “And remember you can't talk about this with anyone except your father—but that's exactly what the Defiant is doing right now: a complete tactical sweep of the station looking for Quark. And any more of those hidden sections you and Nog found.”

“Damn,” Jake said. Then quickly added, “Sorry.”

Jadzia accepted his apology without letting him see how sweet she thought he was for offering it. She started walking toward the door, Jake following her as he recited a list to himself, “Orbs, Cardassians, bodies, smugglers . . .”

Jake gave Jadzia an intent look. “As long as I've promised not to talk about this with anyone else, is there anything else you think I should know?”

Her hand already on the door, Jadzia paused, considering, then deciding no harm would likely come from telling him a bit more, she turned back to face Jake. “There is one other mystery your father's contending with. And again, it's like the Orbs. It might be real or it might be . . . just a mistaken recollection.”

“Great,” Jake said. “What?”

“Quark claims he can't remember what happened to him on the Day of Withdrawal. Odo claims he himself was knocked out by a phaser blast and missed the Withdrawal. And Garak says he remembers every detail, but . . . it's pretty clear there're some details he's completely forgotten.”

“Whoa,” Jake said. “Missing Time Syndrome.”

Jadzia laughed. “You know about that, too?”

“Yeah, sure, I wanted to use it in a story some day. About a guy from way back in the twentieth century or so who gets involved in a Starfleet temporal operation and finds out about the future, so they wipe his memory, leaving him with Missing Time Syndrome. And the trick is,” Jake said, the words all coming out of him in an excited rush, “the memory wipe isn't absolutely complete, and all these memories of the future come bubbling up in him, so he writes them down as if they're fiction. But they're real. And it's only now, looking back, that people today realize this guy actually did write about what was going to happen.” He paused expectantly, as if waiting for her reaction.

Jadzia said the first thing that came into her head. “Sounds like a good children's story.”

He frowned. “It's not for children.”

Jadzia tried another approach. “The trouble is, the techniques the Department of Temporal Investigations use are foolproof. When they wipe a memory, it's gone. It won't even come back as a dream.”

But Jake wasn't interested in talking about that story. “I'll think of some way around it. Tell me more about Quark and Odo and Garak.”

“That's everything I know.”

Jake clapped his hands. “Doesn't matter. I've got it! On the Day of Withdrawal, they killed the Cardassians and so . . . so the Bajoran Resistance wiped their memories so if they were ever interrogated, they'd really believe they were innocent!”

Jadzia put a hand on Jake's shoulder. “It's okay, Jake. This is real life. Not everything has to fit together that neatly. Sometimes things happen that just aren't connected to each other.”

“Then why are all these things happening at once?” Jake asked. “There has to be some connection, Jadzia.”

“Maybe the only connection is your imagination,” Jadzia said, not wishing to sound condescending but definitely wanting to find some way to calm Jake down.

But Jake just shook his head, as if he'd just thought of something important. “No. The connection is the Andorian. Dal Nortron. His murder is what started everything.”

“If it was a murder.” The door slid open and Jadzia walked out into the small landing. But Jake wasn't behind her. He was still standing in his father's office, the expression on his young face grim.

“What is it?” Jadzia asked.

“Nothing,” Jake said, unconvincingly. He stepped out into the landing to stand beside her. “Can I see the file on Nortron's death?”

“That might be pushing research too far, Jake. I think that's up to Odo, and I doubt if he would approve it.”

Jake nodded without protest.

Her interest caught, Jadzia couldn't help asking. “If you did have access to Nortron's file, what do you think you might find?”

“I don't know,” Jake said. “I was just wondering where exactly his body was found. It's not important.”

Jadzia began walking down the stairs with him. “Well, you're coming up with some good thoughts,” she said encouragingly.

“Even if they're wrong.” Jake gave her a wry smile which Jadzia found reassuring, under the circumstances.

They came to the turbolift. She gestured to Jake to enter first. “The only way we learn is by gaining experience. And the only way we gain experience is by—”

“—making mistakes,” Jake said as he stepped into the lift. “So at least now I know where my dad got that saying.”

Jadzia hid her smile as she joined him. “After three hundred years, believe me—I've made enough mistakes to know what I'm talking about. As soon as your father gets back, I'll—”

The sudden scream of a warning siren interrupted her, as at the same time all the main lights in Ops began flickering.

Jadzia ran from the lift. “Worf, what is it?!”

Worf looked up from his security station, sweat already glistening-within the deep ridges of his forehead. “The main computer has been compromised. All security subsystems are off-line.”

Jadzia rushed for her own station, Jake forgotten behind her. “What the hell does that mean?” she demanded.

“Only one thing,” Worf growled. “It is a prelude to attack!”