Lost Time (11 page)

“No,” someone said. Duffy didn’t know who, didn’t care because his gaze was riveted to the main viewscreen: to the
Keldon
warship still so intent on its prize that its captain likely wouldn’t realize what was happening until it was far too late as, indeed, it already was—and to the fiery, brilliant whorls of plasma and gas so dense they obscured the stars that were, even now, dimming as the
Gettysburg
’s saucer sped away, in the opposite direction, running for and toward its life.

Then he felt someone at his elbow and knew who it was before he turned because she brought with her the scent he associated with love and all that was best in his life. He pressed Gomez to his side, unable to speak or tear his eyes away.

“Oh, God,” she said, her voice watery. “Oh, God.”

As if from a dream, Duffy heard Shabalala’s voice, far away. “Commander Salek, sickbay reports the Bynars—they’re not aboard. They didn’t report when the saucer—they didn’t get off, they’re—” He broke off.

No one spoke. There was nothing more to say.

As much as he didn’t want to look, Duffy made the choice
to
look because he knew this was a moment he must remember for the rest of his life.

Because memory is life, and I choose life.

The Belt truly was beautiful in all its lethal, glorious power. But what took his breath away was not the sight of the
Keldon
warship caught like a helpless, thrashing fly in the web of the
Gettysburg
’s expanding warp bubble, or the luminous deflector beam spearing through space into a whirlpool of colors brighter than the heart of a molten sun.

No. What captured Duffy and held him tight was the
Gettysburg,
hurtling toward destiny and pulling a rainbow behind: an arrow flying true for a fiery heart.

Time nearly stopped. As it should, the dilation effect of the warp bubble combining with all that gas, debris, and plasma. One part of Gold’s objective mind knew that he had, at most, thirty seconds before the autodestruct blew the
Gettysburg
apart. But it was enough, and so he watched as the deflector poured its energy, its life into the belt….

And the light at its center: white as bone and as pure as revelation.

Gold heard the lift doors sigh and before he could register what that meant 111’s voice came from his left: “We are here.”

“Oh, no,” said Gold. He’d prepared himself for this moment, knowing it might come, believing that his life alone was forfeit because he had chosen for Kira and her people, and for his crew. But
now
…“What are you doing?” Then he saw what wasn’t there. “Where’s your combadge? Why?”

“Captain,” said 111. She laid her hand on his, and her fingers were cool. “We are telepaths—”

“—or had you forgotten?” 110, to his right. “It is better—”

“—that one not die alone,” said 111. “We are here.”

“And so is she; she is—”

“—here,” said 111, and she pressed her hand to his heart. “Where she has always been.”

“Because where there is memory—”

“—there is life,” said 111.

The pain and joy in his heart were so intense it was as if he’d been touched by an angel. “Rachel,” said Gold—and now he turned his face to the light. “
Rachel
…”

There was a flare of white light. A starburst of color.

But, most of all, there was light.

“H
ow do you feel?”

“Badly,” said Soloman. They sat in Gold’s ready room; the
da Vinci
had appeared as soon as Gomez powered down the deflectors—and their counterparts had deactivated their device. What they had encountered was, in Gold’s words, “a whole other story.” Soloman had been checked out by Dr. Tarses on DS9 and pronounced fit. “I chose very poorly.”

“Yes, you did. And in the end, Commander Gomez chose for
you.
”

“Yes. And because of her and Nog, DS9 and Bajor are safe.”

“No, they didn’t do it on their own. Nog and Gomez gave
them
information. Then they had a choice: trust us and shut down the device, or go it on their own even knowing they’d destroy us. They chose life for us, and for you. Let’s hope they chose the same for themselves.” Gold eyed him closely. “You have something else you want to say?”

“Yes.” Soloman felt an uncharacteristic rush of heat up his neck and into his face. He forced himself not to look away. “I lied. I have never lied, and for that I am truly sorry. You would be within your rights to transfer me off your vessel, or insist upon my return to Bynaus.”

“Yes, I would.” Gold frowned. “Don’t think I haven’t considered it. But you’re far more valuable to me, and yourself, if you stay. On one condition, however: You go to counseling either on a starbase, say for a few months, or perhaps with me, or Dr. Lense, since you seem comfortable with her. We’ll have to ask her if she feels the same when she comes back. Anyway—” Gold’s face softened. “—we have time.”

“Yes,” said Soloman. “There is that.”

Kira saw Sonya Gomez well before Gomez spotted her. Gomez was standing in profile, looking out at the stars and the wormhole winking into view with its myriad rainbow colors. Then Kira noticed that Gomez had chosen to watch from just outside the chapel where they’d kept the Orb of Prophecy and Change before that Orb had been returned to take its rightful place on Bajor with all the others. Some irony there, probably. Kira had read Gomez’s report and talked with Captain Gold. So she knew about Kieran Duffy: a hard thing to have someone about whom you cared so much be close enough to touch—and lose him again.

Like seeing that mirror universe version of Bareil after my Bareil died in my arms. Like Odo…I know what this is like.

“Captain,” said Gomez, reflexively coming to attention, then relaxing as Kira waved her down. “I was just watching the wormhole before we ship out. We need to get back to Earth, return Caitano’s and Deverick’s bodies to their families. I just wanted a moment, and this—this a good place.”

“Yes, it is,” said Kira. “Sometimes I take it for granted. Then I think back to the time all the Orbs went dark and it went away, and then I remember to be thankful.” She hesitated, then said, “I read your report. I talked to Captain Gold.”

Gomez nodded. She returned her gaze to the wormhole and the stars beyond. “Weird to think about that other universe. Somewhere, out there, people I’ve cared about are alive.” Gomez looked at her. “Do you ever wish you could go back? Do things over?”

“You mean, do I wish I’d never let the genie out of the box, never released the Ohalu book, never joined the Resistance?”
Never fallen in love with a man I may never see again?
“No. I think it’s normal to wish you could redo the past. But then it wouldn’t be
my
past. I’m afraid I don’t have enough imagination to consider choices I’d never have made in the first place.” Kira paused, then said, “What about you? Do you have regrets?”

Gomez turned, and Kira would remember the look on her face—full of remorse and pain and regret—for a very long while to come.

“All the time,” said Gomez. “All the time.”

It was time. A clear sky and bright sun splashing gouts of warmth. A good day. One of his finest hours.

Gul Elim Garak stood on a podium, watching as members of the Bajor Assembly and those of his own government finished with the reading of the treaty. (These officials included Legate Rugal, a ruthless politician not above assassinating a Bajoran or two to clear his way. Garak was quite fond of the man, and they both shared a passion for
rokassa
juice—calmed the nerves.) The Assembly members were dressed in finely colored robes, each color reflecting their caste, and Garak could not help but notice that while the religious caste’s members were few their robes were so bright they looked to be of spun gold. He let his eyes roam over the upturned faces of the crowds gathered for the signing, and his satisfaction was reflected in the clear aquamarine of his tunic’s living gemstones.

And yet—Garak nibbled on the inside of his right cheek—only one tiny fly in the proverbial ointment. He cast a quick glance at the sky. No wormhole, and no Zotat, either. Well, maybe the legends were wrong about the wormhole being visible from Bajor. But, for there to be no word from Zotat…

Garak’s thoughts were interrupted by the Bajoran High Magistrate as he stood, scroll in one hand, a rose-red lavanian crystal pen in the other. “In the tradition of our people,” the Magistrate began, “I call upon any and all who believe that this treaty should not be enacted to speak and bring proof why—”

“
I
will speak.” This from the back of the crowd: a woman’s voice, proud and strong. “And I bring
proof.
”

The High Magistrate was struck dumb as was the remainder of the Assembly. The Cardassians shot quick, questioning glances; Legate Rugal looked murderous. Startled, Garak tried to see who the woman was but could not. Yet she was coming; that much was clear because the sea of Bajorans parted, and then Garak saw a Trill he didn’t recognize. She carried a glittering casket in her arms, and as if drawn by a magnet, the religious fell in behind so that as she approached, she pulled a vein of the purest gold in her wake. She ascended the dais, and when she cast her gaze about the ministers and magistrates and legates, they looked away. But when her eyes met his, Garak had a premonition that, for him, there were dark days ahead.

She turned aside and addressed the crowd. “Bajorans, I bring you hope. I bring you back your Prophets, and I bring you
proof.
”

And then she opened the casket, and the crowd cried out because what blazed forth was so white, so strong, so perfect it hurt Garak’s eyes. Gasping, he turned aside and then he saw that his tunic had gone as completely and utterly black as a starless night.

Because now…there was light.

The
da Vinci
is returning to Hidalgo Station, a rundown old spacedock that has seen better decades, in order to pick up Commander Sonya Gomez from a much-needed shore leave. But when they arrive they find that Gomez has taken the station hostage, and is making insane demands—if they aren’t met, she’ll blow up the station.

No one is more surprised than Gomez herself, who is trapped inside Hidalgo’s control center with no way out—and no way to stop her shipmates from thinking she’s gone mad. Alone, the S.C.E.’s leader must find a way out of her trap before her shipmates take drastic action!

COMING IN MAY 2005 FROM POCKET BOOKS!