Beyond Gloomy Chaos 6/7 (DS9/TNG)
Title: Beyond Gloomy Chaos
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Following Sisko's entry into the Celestial Temple in "What You Leave Behind," the Q find themselves facing a dilemma that could result in interplanetary catastrophe. Can Picard, Kira and Data retrieve the mysterious Book of the Resurrection before all hell breaks loose on Cardassia?
DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the Star Trek universe and everything it encompasses. This story is not intended to infringe on any copyrights, and the only profit I gain by it is emotional satisfaction.
PART FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It seemed as though time stood still, as though everything had been frozen in place. To his left, Kira remained standing, reluctantly accepting Kormet's nomination. Just beyond them Damar remained locked in a half-crouch, his gaze fixed on some distant point. Picard turned and saw Data likewise situated, as though he, too, had spotted the unknown threat and had instinctively leaped to his feet. Picard turned around and around, searching for the smallest sign of movement from the assembly, but saw nothing.
"Jean-Luc," came a voice from behind him. Picard whirled.
"Q! I should have known this was your doing."
Q brushed aside the thinly-veiled insult to grab Picard's shoulders. "Listen, Jean-Luc, we haven't got much time," he said without a trace of irony. "I've yanked you out of the timeline to warn you of what's about to happen." He glanced over his shoulder, almost fearfully, Picard thought, then came a step or two closer, his gaze burning with intensity. "That point in space Damar and Data are so preoccupied with? That's Sisko. He's come here to stop you from locating the Book of the Resurrection."
"But... how...?"
"It doesn't really matter," he said. "Although I suggest you get out of this crater as soon as possible. Make sure the colonel, Damar, and Danal Kormet get out, too. If they die, none of this will have mattered."
"But..."
"Listen to me!" Q's face drew so close their noses almost touched. "I can't help you. Tell Kormet why you're here. Tell her you're here for the book. She will know what to do."
"But..." He felt like a half-trained parrot, squawking the same nonsensical phrase over and over.
"Hurry, Jean-Luc! Time is almost up. Get out of here, and get that book!"
Picard returned to temporal reality with a jolt. Pandemonium surrounded him. On all sides people were screaming and running for cover as molten rocks and lightning hailed down on them. Beside him, Data tugged him to his feet. "Captain," he said with urgent calmness, "I must get you to safety."
His thoughts racing, Picard rose. What had Q told him? He searched the chamber and found Kira and Kormet running toward the exit, the staff still held tightly between them. Several meters away, Damar and Dorek faced down a tall, imposing figure, a man with skin as dark as the storm clouds looming above, who stalked through the chamber, heedless of the tumult he left in his wake. "Sisko," Picard breathed.
Only the man was not the Benjamin Sisko he remembered, as he realized with another cold-water shock of reality when the figure turned and trained its electrifying blue eyes on him. Not Benjamin Sisko, but a Prophet. A Prophet in all its divine power and fury, hell-bent on thwarting his mission.
"The Picard must be stopped," it commanded, its voice resonating throughout the chamber. "The Picard will fail."
The sharp tang of sulfur burned Picard's eyes and nose, momentarily blinding him. Beneath his feet, the ground rumbled, shifted with an ear-splitting groan, then grew unnaturally warm. With horrified realization he knew what Sisko intended. "Come on!" he shouted to Data, squinting his eyes against the burning yellow haze as he hurtled across the ever-widening cracks in the floor.
A woman towing two small children tripped and fell to her knees before him, almost tumbling headfirst into a bubbling, hissing pool of lava. "Get them out of here, Mister Data," he ordered, helping the woman to her feet. "Tell everyone to go deep into the mountains, get them to higher ground, as fast as you can, before this volcano blows!" He took comfort in the knowledge that Data would fulfill his orders with alacrity and efficiency. With Data responsible for their safety, the Kerdish just might have a chance.
Picard then turned his attention to the two men valiantly challenging the Prophet. They looked almost ridiculous, Dorek with his saber and Damar with a blazing branch, but their determination to prevent the entity from harming the Kerdish was very serious. Picard picked up a rifle that had been discarded in the mêlée and aimed it at Sisko as he slowly walked toward the standoff, taking care around the incoming missiles and heaving floor. "Captain Sisko!" he barked, infusing his voice with every ounce of 'command tone' he could muster. "You are hereby relieved of duty. Stand down!" A ridiculous gambit, he thought, but he hoped to stir the Prophet's memories of the Human it had once been.
Once again Sisko focused its electric stare on him. Picard swore he could see energy stronger than that of a thousand stars glowing within the Prophet's unnaturally blue irises. Awestruck, he wavered. Q, where are you when I need you? he thought desperately, hoping his antagonist was close by, watching and listening, waiting for his grand entrance.
"The Picard is a fool if it thinks it can stop us," the Prophet said, its voice even more resonant than that of the physical form it appropriated. "The Picard is no match for the Sisko."
"The Sisko is a fool if it thinks it can slough off the real Benjamin Sisko so easily," Picard said. He was tempted to raise his weapon to chest level, but suspected the consequences would be fatal. "The Benjamin Sisko I knew would never maliciously attack innocent people."
"There is no innocence here," it said. "The Picard seeks to destroy us. The Picard is not of Bajor. We are of Bajor. The Sisko is of Bajor. The Sisko must defend Bajor."
"Then what are you doing here?" Dorek asked through clenched teeth. He started to raise his sword, but Picard waved him down. "Why don't you go back to Bajor where you belong and leave us alone!"
"We must defend Bajor from the evil ones," the Prophet insisted.
"What evil ones?" Damar wanted to know. "The Kerdish aren't evil! Cardassians aren't evil!"
"The book is evil. The book must not be opened. The book must be destroyed."
"The book--?" Picard wondered aloud. Pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. "Do you mean the Book of the Resurrection? The book Q sent me to find?"
"The Q seek to ruin us. The Q would have us abandon Bajor."
Picard took a step toward the Prophet, hoping that maybe he could reason with it. "Q isn't interested in Bajor, or in you."
"The Picard must not find the book. The book will destroy Bajor. The book will destroy us."
"The book isn't intended to destroy anything," Picard insisted.
"Captain?" Damar said. "He might be right."
Forgetting the very real danger he faced, Picard lowered his rifle to turn and stare at Damar. "What?"
The Cardassian nodded. "According to Colonel Kira, there's a Bajoran legend that says that when Cardassians regain Paradise, it will usher in Bajor's death. If I've understood everything correctly, the book you're looking for is the key to restoring Cardassia to Paradise."
"The... Book... of the... Resurrection..." Picard murmured. He glanced up first at Damar, then the Prophet. "The 'resurrection' refers to Cardassia?" he asked no one in particular. "And it's supposedly a coda to the Book of the Kosst Amojin --"
Before he could say another word, Sisko uttered a high, heart-wrenching wail. "The Evil One! The Picard must not speak of the Betrayer!" Blue light glowed, halolike, around the Prophet, its intensity increasing with the Prophet's agitation. "The Picard must not open the book, or the Evil One will be allowed to walk free forever. The Picard must find the book, and destroy it." In a flash of blue fire echoed by a powerful rumble from deep beneath their feet, the Prophet disappeared.
Suddenly the ground heaved, throwing the three remaining men off balance. An enormous boulder, glowing bright red from the heat pushing it, thrust skyward, knocking Picard sideways down a shallow incline toward a sea of lava. Picard scrabbled at the ground in an effort to slow his descent, but found nothing to gain a purchase on. He tried to turn himself then, to orient himself feet first, in the hope he could grab something, anything, before the molten rock reduced him to cinders. He could already feel the heat melting the soles of his boots.
Seemingly from out of nowhere, a gray, scaled hand appeared before his face. Picard looked up to see Damar stretched to almost impossible lengths, Dorek behind him, anchoring him to a solid chunk of rock. How long that rock would remain stable, however, was anyone's guess. Picard grabbed Damar's hand, using his feet to push himself away from the lava and toward his would-be rescuers.
Their neck ridges blue-black with exertion, the two Cardassians strained to pull him out of danger's path. For a moment, he thought they would fail, sending all three of them tumbling to their fiery deaths. Then Dorek let loose with a howl of triumphant defiance and, pulling so hard his face turned almost purple, freed them from the clutches of gravity.
"Thank you," Picard gasped, his chest burning, as he slumped against the rock.
"Plenty of time for gratitude later," Dorek wheezed. Damar stood off to one side, doubled over with hard, heavy breaths. "This volcano's going to erupt any minute. If you don't mind, I'd like to get the hell out of here while I still can."
"Agreed," Picard said. Damar raised himself up enough to shake his head in agreement, then the three men sprinted for the exit.
* * * * *
Kira paced back and forth beneath the outcropping that now served as a temporary shelter for the refugees. She was furious with herself. She could not decide what angered her more: her silence when confronted with Kormet's outrageous lies about the Prophets, or her cowardly flight from the Emissary. What sort of Bajoran was she? She may not have been particularly religious ten years ago, when she had more important matters to deal with, but she thought she had grown out of that youthful agnostic rebellion. Was she backsliding? She hoped not, but it seemed to be the most logical explanation for her recent ambivalence toward the Prophets.
Or -- she sucked in her breath at the thought -- what if the two pagh-wraiths who had visited her back on Deep Space Nine had infected her soul? What if her infidelity had been engineered by them, so that they could use her to accomplish their evil goals? They had been known to seduce devout, Prophet-fearing Bajorans before, as the fate of the last kai demonstrated. They had even been known to inhabit the bodies of non-Bajorans such as Keiko O'Brien, Jake Sisko and even Gul Dukat, in an effort to terrorize Bajorans. What if... what if.... She shuddered at the possibility. What if Captain Picard, or perhaps even Damar, Prophets forbid, had fallen under the influence of the pagh-wraiths? Prophets preserve us, she prayed as she stared into the darkness, watching the ribbons of lava course down the slopes of a distant mountain and hoping they had survived the eruption.
She looked down at Kormet's staff, which she still held in one hand. Why, of all the people gathered to hear her story, had the old woman chosen Kira to be her successor? Why had she given Kira the staff? More importantly, why had Kira accepted it? Was it a secret sign of some sort, a token of the covenant between the pagh-wraiths and their devotees? In accepting it, had Kira sealed her fate among the damned?
With renewed horror and self-doubt she looked at the staff again. For all she knew, those trinkets dangling from the top could be pagh-wraith fetishes. Her heart full of indignation and fury, she raised it high and smashed it down on her bent knee, splitting it into two pieces with a thunderous crack. Then she flung the pieces into the night, holding her breath until she heard them clatter on the rocks below.
"Couldn't have done better myself," said a voice behind her. Kira spun to see Kormet approaching, a torch held in one hand. "I've been wanting to do that for years. You know Cardassians, though: we just love our relics and symbols and traditions." She walked to the edge of the cliff and peered over the precipice, then wedged her torch into a crack in the rock.
Kira stared at her in distrust. Finally she summoned enough courage to ask, "Who -- or what -- are you?"
Kormet turned to her with an enigmatic smile. "I am exactly what you see: an old Cardassian woman who has long outlived her usefulness."
Unswayed, Kira pressed, "Who sent you here?"
"Who sent me?" Kormet seemed perplexed. "No one sent me. I've been here all along. The question is, who sent you?"
Intensely discomfited by Kormet's acute perception, Kira turned away. "I thought I knew, but now I'm not so sure. I thought I'd come here to serve the Prophets. But what if --" her eyes burned with unshed tears "-- what if I've been sent here to do evil?"
She felt a gentle weight settle across her shoulders. Despite her fears and doubts, Kira found comfort in Kormet's touch. "What if it was not the Prophets who sent you here, but the pagh-wraiths?" Kira nodded. "Do you think the pagh-wraiths are evil?"
Kira swiped the tears from her face. "Of course I do! The Prophets --"
"The Prophets told your people that the pagh-wraiths were evil, and of course you believe them." Kira nodded again. "Despite what they would have us believe, gods are not all that different from us. They suffer from jealousy, just like we do. Why do you think the first law of nearly every religion is 'thou shalt have no other gods before me'?"
Kira stared at her, dumbfounded. "Are you saying the Prophets are jealous of the pagh-wraiths?"
"No, not at all. But they are fiercely protective of their realm and influence. For every Bajoran who turns to the pagh-wraiths, the Prophets lose some of their relevance as gods. What's the point in being a god if no one will worship you?"
"The Prophets told us the pagh-wraiths were evil so we wouldn't worship them?" She shook her head. "How do I know you're not a pagh-wraith trying to seduce me?"
Kormet patted her shoulders. "For centuries, Central Command told Cardassian civilians that the Kerdish were evil because we chose to uphold ancient customs they claimed were riddled with superstition. As a result, we were driven from our homes and persecuted until we sought refuge in the desert and underground." Her watery blue-eyed gaze seemed to bore through Kira's skull. "Do you think we're evil?"
Stifling a snort, Kira said, "I don't know if you are or not."
Kormet's gay laughter echoed across the mountain range. "Good answer! You are closer to the truth than you realize." She squeezed Kira's shoulders more firmly, forcing Kira to turn and face her. "Evil rests in the eyes and the heart of the beholder. Do not let anyone tell you, 'This is evil,' or 'They are evil.' Let your heart decide what is and is not evil. Trust your judgment. If a thing or a person is truly evil, then you will know."
"But what--?"
She hushed Kira by pressing her hand to her lips. "Don't let yourself get caught up in 'but whats.' Do what you know is right, even if it contradicts everything you'd known before. Did the Prophets send you here? Maybe. The pagh-wraiths? Perhaps. Until you know for certain whose path you walk on, though, all you can do is to walk in the path of righteousness. Do right, and evil will vanish."
"You make it all sound so easy," Kira muttered. Try as she might, she could not block the images of Dukat on Empok Nor, leading a group of Bajorans in a mockery of everything she held to be true and righteous, from her mind's eye. If ever she had known evil.... She closed her mind to those unwelcome memories.
Kormet's bright eyes flashed in the torch's wavering light. "Dorek says the same thing. He says I see too much goodness where I should see evil. But --" she shrugged "-- all things considered, my life has been rich with blessings. Why shouldn't I see goodness, when I have known so much joy?"
"How can you say that after all Cardassia's been through -- after what happened tonight?" Kira asked, incredulous.
"Tell me something," Kormet said, sliding her arm off Kira's shoulders to clasp her hand. "Were there days, when your people were struggling against mine, when you wished you could go to sleep and never wake up?"
Kira bit her lip, almost overcome with emotion as long-repressed memories flooded through her. Before the tears took away her power of speech, she nodded. "Yes."
Kormet wrapped her other hand around Kira's, enveloping it with warmth and kindness. "I have days like that, too." She looked off into the distance. "In the past few years, there've been more and more of them."
Kira took a deep, shuddering breath before speaking. "How do you deal with them?" she asked.
Kormet's gaze shifted back toward Kira. She raised a gnarled hand to rest it against Kira's cheek. "How did you cope during those dark nights on Bajor?"
"I..." Kira sought to remember what had driven her so much. "I didn't want the Occupation to outlast me. I was determined not to let the...the Cardassians defeat me, by staying on Bajor longer than I stayed alive. I was going to see Bajor a free world before I'd give in to the despair."
The older woman's soft smile filled her with hope and peace. "As I have done," Kormet said. "Each night, when the blackness comes and I wonder if it's worth it to go on, I tell myself that the next day is a brand new day overflowing with possibilities. One day Cardassia will be born anew. I want to live to see that day."
A memory, separate from those of Dukat and the Occupation, jogged at the back of Kira's mind. Hoping she was not about to make a fatal mistake, she asked, "What if Cardassia's rebirth means Bajor's death?"
Kormet tilted her head to one side as she studied Kira at length. "You mean, what if the myth of Ha'Bajra is true?" Unsure how to proceed, Kira nodded. "What if it is?"
Kira gaped. "I should think that would be pretty obvious, even to you!" she snapped, her instinctive distrust resurfacing with a vengeance. "Let's get one thing straight: I will not let you, or anyone, do anything to put Bajor in danger. Whatever it takes, I will stop you." She folded her arms over her chest and took a step toward Kormet, to add weight to her oath.
If the old woman felt threatened, she showed no sign of it. "Colonel," she said without any hint of concern or disapproval, "your loyalty to your people is commendable. If anything, it demonstrates the sincerity of your motives in coming here. Your anger, however, is misdirected. We Kerdish have no interest in Bajor. Cardassia is our home. If there is indeed a Ha-Bajra -- a Paradise -- then it is here. Not on Bajor, not on Earth, not on Vulcan, but here, where we have lived and died for over 100,000 years." She grasped Kira's arms in her long, bony fingers. "Our legends say nothing about the restoration of Paradise bringing on another world's death. That is your people's interpolation."
"Maybe your version is incomplete," Kira muttered.
"Maybe," Kormet said. "But I think that if that were the case, you wouldn't have come here to look for the Book of the Resurrection." Kira's jaw dropped. "If the truth resided on Bajor in its entirety, then the book would have been there as well."
"How... How...?" Kira stammered.
"How did I know that was your objective?" Kormet laughed merrily. "Dearest Colonel, Damar told me what brought you here within minutes of your arrival!" She continued to chuckle, squeezing Kira's arms in her humor.
"Leave it to a Cardassian to be indiscreet."
Kormet patted her shoulder. "Not at all. He was concerned for our safety -- rightly so, I should say," she added with a meaningful look at Kira.
"Why didn't you take his warning to heart?"
"Who says we didn't? We've had you and Captain Picard watched from the outset. We're not naïve."
If she did not already respect Kormet's precaution, Kira would have been more offended. Even so, she could not help bristling. "Why didn't you just lock us up where we couldn't cause trouble, or dispose of us? No one knows we're out here. You could easily have gotten away with murder."
This time, Kormet bristled with indignation. "And play right into your prejudices? We're Kerdish, Colonel, not agents of the Obsidian Order. We cherish all life."
"Even the lives of the Prophets?"
"Even the lives of the Prophets."
"Even though, according to your mythology, it was the Prophets -- my gods -- who banished your ancestors from Paradise?"
"What's done is done. Revenge won't undo past injustices." She stared at Kira. "How many times will I have to assure you that we mean you no harm?"
Kira planted her hands on her hips. "As many times as it takes to convince me."
"I see," Kormet said. She turned to walk a few meters away from Kira. "What of your motives?" she asked. "What assurances can you give me?"
Kira felt a sudden chill. "What do you mean?" she asked, dissembling, hoping to throw Kormet off course.
The old woman's snort told Kira she had failed to persuade Kormet of her ignorance. "Don't play games with me, child," she said, her voice full of warning and menace. "Damar didn't just tell me why you came here. I also know what you intend to do with the book."
Kira decided to try to bluff the old woman. There was no point in concealing the truth anymore anyway. "You can try to stop me if you want, but I will not rest easy until that book is in cinders."
"That book that you would so blithely toss into a pyre is our most sacred relic!"
"It is a book that promises nothing but evil!"
Kormet whirled, her eyes blazing, her fists clenched, her ridges raised and pulsating. "How dare you accuse us of evil? Have you learned nothing tonight?"
"Oh, I've learned plenty," Kira said. "I've learned that you will say anything to pollute my mind -- anything to turn me against the Prophets."
"Turn you against the Prophets? I don't give a damn about your Prophets!"
At that point, her bluff collapsed. With utter conviction she shot back, "And I don't give a damn about your holy book!"
For a long time the two women glared at each other in furious silence. Kira had sworn she would do anything to protect Bajor and the Prophets. She suspected Kormet had taken the same oath to defend her people and her traditions. Despite her antipathy and distrust toward the Cardassian, Kira had to admire her fierce maternal instincts. She doubted anyone could have done better than Kormet in protecting, preserving and upholding Kerdish civilization and culture during Cardassia's recent tumultuous past. Surely that was worth something?
Did it really matter? Picard was determined to find the book, and if he was anything like the other Humans she had known, not even a volcanic eruption could stand in his way. One way or another, he would find it. When he did, one way or another, Kira would destroy it.
* * * * *
Damar followed Dorek and Captain Picard up the narrow steps an enterprising climber had cut into the side of the mountain centuries before. When they came around the escarpment, they found Kormet and Colonel Kira in a silent standoff illuminated in the glow from a solitary torch.
After fleeing the volcano only moments before the lava pushed completely through the surface and up into the cone, Dorek had led them through a petrified forest to the base of a flat-topped mountain he said was the most likely place the Kerdish would have sought shelter in. While ascending the steep trail they had heard Kormet's clear laugh echoing above their heads and known they were on the right track. Not long after, they began to hear indistinct sounds that soon grew into voices. The closer they came, the more they could hear of Kormet's and Kira's conversation. Damar realized then that the colonel would be furious with him for betraying her motives to Kormet. If Picard already knew of her plans to destroy the book, Damar could not tell. As far as he was concerned, he had made the right choice. When the voices grew sharper and more heated, Dorek increased his pace. They almost raced up the steps when the argument fell suddenly silent.
Damar was relieved to find the two women simply glaring at each other, rather than tearing out each other's hearts. On the other hand, he knew that the stakes had just been changed, and not necessarily for the better. It was likely, perhaps even a certainty, that Picard, Data and Kira would now be turned away empty-handed. He had a feeling neither of them would give up quite so easily. That could mean trouble -- and he had a sinking feeling he would be caught right in the middle of it.
Before any of them could say a word, however, there was a blinding flash of white light in their midst. Damar quickly turned away, shielding his eyes. Had Sisko returned to wreak further havoc on the Kerdish? He had felt like such a fool, challenging Sisko with a burning stick, Dorek right behind him with his minetsa. It was a wonder Sisko had not banished both of them to perdition right then and there for their audacity and stupidity. Not even Weyoun had managed to emasculate him so successfully. Damar's anger and despair over his helplessness in the face of such incomprehensible power grew.
When the spots cleared from his vision and he looked up, he beheld a strange sight. In the interval, Dorek and Kira had each freed their weapons and aimed them at a tall Human dressed, incongruously enough, in an old Starfleet uniform. Kormet and Picard, in contrast, seemed to be neither amazed nor alarmed as they approached the stranger from opposing angles. "Q!" they said as one. Oddly, neither one seemed surprised that the other knew the stranger. Damar did not know what to make of the situation.
"Dammit, Q, what do you want this time?" Picard asked.
"You're behind all this?" Kormet asked in turn.
Bewildered, Damar looked at Kira in the hopes of finding an explanation. If she saw his distress, she ignored it; she was too focused on keeping the stranger in her sights. That, in itself, should have been sufficient, but Kormet's familiarity with the stranger unnerved him. Most disturbing of all, he could have sworn he had heard the stranger's voice before, but for the life of him he did not know where or how.
The stranger looked at Kormet with a mixture of arrogance and compassion. "I told you the Continuum would come to your aid," he said.
She guffawed. "You've been making that promise for thousands of years!"
He shrugged. "Better late than never."
"Q," Picard said, interrupting their exchange, "what is the meaning of all this? How do you know this woman? What is she talking about? What has any of this got to do with why you sent me here?" As if on cue, Q and Kormet raised a hand to silence him.
Damar crept around them to stand behind Kira. "Do you understand any of this?" he asked, keeping his voice to a whisper.
"I don't have to," she said through gritted teeth. "I already know all I need to."
If Damar was supposed to feel reassured, he did not. In fact, his headache increased. He did not like what he was seeing and hearing. Unlike his mentor, who relished complexity with the same enthusiasm he had for Bajoran women, Damar was a simple man who preferred simple problems with simple solutions. The last time he had had to wrestle with an ethical conundrum, he had instead sought refuge in the bottom of a bottle of kanar. He would prefer not to go that route again, but this was indubitably a complex situation that even Dukat would have found disturbing. Damar did not even know where to begin to search for answers to this dilemma.
"You can shush me all you want," Picard said, refusing to back down, "but I refuse to walk away from this with unanswered questions."
"Fine," Q said, "you want answers? I'll give you answers. The Human you once knew as Captain Benjamin Sisko and that the Bajorans revere as their Emissary has taken up residence in the Celestial Temple. We want him out. Furthermore, the Kerdish want their gods freed from the prison the Prophets have kept them in for over 100,000 years. We promised the Kerdish thousand of years ago that we would help them. Unfortunately," he sighed, "when you're an immortal being, a thousand years is gone in a snap. And, of course, we had other affairs to attend to. So now we are going to -- as you Humans are so fond of saying -- kill two birds with one stone."
Kormet stared at him in unabashed shock. "You're finally going to fulfill your promise to us?"
Q nodded. "By setting your gods free, we can simultaneously force the Prophets out of the Celestial Temple, where they never should have been in the first place -- and never would have been, if anyone had bothered to listen to me, which they didn't, which is why we're here now."
"Like hell you will," Kira growled, stalking toward him.
"Well, yes, no doubt hell will play a significant role in this little Homeric epic," Q said. "The P will certainly raise holy hell trying to stop you from freeing the W."
Who are the P? Damar wondered. Who are the W? For that matter, who are the Q? He doubted he would like the answer.
"Stop us?" Picard asked. "Don't you mean stop you?"
"No, Jean-Luc, I mean stop you. I told you before that I can't get involved. All we humble Q can do is issue edicts and make decrees about the natural order of the cosmos. It's up to you mortal beings to --" he chortled "-- 'make it so'. If we did all the dirty work, it'd be deus ex machina this and deus ex machina that until your head spins."
"Good," Kira said. "Then you won't stand in my way when I burn that book."
Q steepled his fingers and frowned at her. "I'm afraid I can't allow you to do that. An edict has been issued and a decree has been made. The book will be opened, the Prophets will leave the Celestial Temple, and I will fulfill a long-standing promise to the Kerdish."
"We'll see about that," Kira said, her face twisted in a scowl Damar had not seen since Terok Nor had last been under Cardassian control. "Those aren't 'gods' you intend to unleash on the universe, they're the pagh-wraiths."
"Dear Nerys," Q said, clucking his tongue like a disapproving instructor. "If you would just let go of your prejudices long enough to listen, you would see that this will ultimately benefit Bajor. I mean, really: this whole 'sky god' bit is just a bunch of nonsense. Why would anyone want to waste their time on a sky god? It's just a cheap way of rationalizing equivocation by people who think they're too advanced for religion, yet aren't quite advanced enough to completely give it up. A true god is bound to the world and the people it guides and protects. How anyone can be a proper god from several hundred thousand kilometers away is beyond me." He scrutinized his fingernails, oblivious to the look of horror on Kira's face and the look of amusement on Kormet's.
"A very poetic speech," Picard said, his arms folded across his chest, "but you're omitting one small detail: you're a sky god."
Q harrumphed. "As usual, Jean-Luc, you're comparing Bajorans and Cardassians. I'm not a god. I'm a Q. There's a cosmos of difference between the two." Damar could not be sure, but he thought he heard Picard mutter something about a walking and talking duck. "Nonetheless," Q continued, as if he had not heard Picard's aside, "it's time for the P to leave the Celestial Temple and set up housekeeping on Bajor, where they should have been all along. The W will stay here, with the Kerdish, where they belong."
"I suppose you expect me to believe you," Kira said.
"You can call me a liar all you want, dear Nerys, but the Q will make sure everybody stays in their proper place." Picard snorted.
So did Kira. "The instant your back is turned, the pagh-wraiths will be back on Bajor making our lives a living nightmare."
"Look, you frozen little pleat-nosed shrew," he snapped, his eyes flashing with irritation and anger, "you can complain until you're blue in the face, but like it or not, this is what's going to happen -- and if you so much as raise a finger to stand in my way, I'll lock you up with Kosst Amojin myself!" Kira, her face ashen and her eyes wide, took a quick step back.
Before the argument could begin anew, Damar said, "So then we're agreed that we're to go after the book?" surprising even himself with his bold decisiveness.
"I'm game," Q said, rubbing his palms together. "How about you, Jean-Luc?"
"Does anyone even know where the book is kept?" Dorek asked.
"I do," Kormet said. "But we're not going tonight. It's late, we've all had a very long and tiring day, and the road ahead of us is treacherous. We will leave tomorrow, after we have rested and I have had the opportunity to reassure my people. I won't leave until they are confident I've left them in good hands."
"A fair decision," Picard said. "One more day in 100,000 years won't hurt. I'll instruct Mister Data to stay behind tomorrow, in case the volcano erupts again." Kormet nodded at him in grim acceptance. "Does that suit you?" he asked Kira.
She, too, nodded as she holstered her weapon. "Just so long as I can get my hands on it before you use it to ruin Bajor, tomorrow morning is as good a time as any."
"Good, then it's settled," Q said. "Now you run along nighty-night, and I'll meet you at the finish line." With another blinding flash, he disappeared.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The sky glowed a thick sanguine red where the first rays of dawn managed to pierce the smoke clouds hanging low over the mountain range like a shroud. The air was thick and hot, supercharged by the distant volcano belching lava down its slopes and the rising anticipation of what lay ahead. Picard doubted he had slept more than twenty minutes all night. He admitted to himself, even if to no one else, that he was afraid.
In the past, when he had shepherded first the Stargazer and then the Enterprise through the darkest frontiers of space, he had almost always known what to expect. Alien races, no matter how alien they might seem on the surface, were, in their fundamental needs and desires, remarkably alike. Over the years Picard had learned to guess with reasonable accuracy which species would most likely prove to be aggressive, which would be peaceful, which would be hostile, and which would be hospitable. He could think of only two occasions in his career as a Starfleet officer when he had been forced to act without any idea of what reaction to expect.
The first occasion had been fifteen years ago, when he and his crew had first come to Q's attention. The second had come a year later, when Q had flung the Enterprise across thousands of light-years, right into the waiting arms of the Borg Collective. On neither occasion had Picard been able to assess his adversary's mindset, and on both occasions he had paid dearly for his ignorance. Now here he was again, fumbling his way blindly through a situation over which he had no control, once again at Q's mercy. Picard was afraid, and with good reason.
They breakfasted quickly and quietly, only Kormet even bothering to sit while the others alternated between picking at their food until it grew cold and pacing about. In much the same manner they saddled the hounds and loaded their gear. As they had agreed the night before, Data would stay behind with the Kerdish. Picard could tell that Data was displeased, but he knew he could count on Data to do anything necessary to keep them out of harm's way.
Damar swung into his mount's saddle, the others quickly following suit. Picard was amazed at the ease and agility with which Kormet leaped on to her mount's back. Even though she had been a nomad all her life, she nevertheless must have been well into her 90s. Picard hoped he would still be as spry in thirty years.
Kormet clucked to her hound and led the way into a narrow gorge cut into the forbidding bedrock by a small stream that now wound its burbling way around the hounds' paws. Steep rocky walls soared high above their heads on both sides, giving Picard a sensation of claustrophobia he found unfamiliar and unwelcome. Once the group passed through the tight opening, the path widened enough for them to ride two abreast. Kormet and Damar rode side-by-side in the lead, followed by Kira, with Picard and Dorek taking up the rear. Silence descended upon them as the canyon walls closed out the volcano's steady rumble.
Suddenly and without warning a stone broke free from high above, tumbling down toward the group and showering them with golden-brown fragments. Startled at the sudden noise, Picard looked up, then gasped at what he saw. Beside him, Dorek jerked his head up.
Both sides of the canyon rim were lined with the members of Kormet's tribe. Even Data stood there amongst them, silently bidding his captain farewell.
Ahead of them, Damar had reined his hound to a stop and turned, his face lifted up, his chest rising and falling. After a moment he cried out, "Remember the tales of our ancestors! Today is a new day -- a day of new beginnings -- a day of rebirth -- for the Kerdish -- for all Cardassia! As long as there is blood in my veins and air in my lungs, I promise you, we will find the sacred book of our ancestors and usher in the Age of Paradise. We will return!"
There was a long moment as Damar's emotional speech echoed across the canyon. Then, before the last syllable had faded away, there arose such a tumult from the Kerdish that Picard feared their acclaim might start an avalanche. They shouted, clapped, stamped their feet, whistled, even a few fired their phasers into the air, the sound of their pride and exultation washing over Picard and his companions in a series of waves, each one seemingly more joyful than the first. Even the riding hounds seemed to take part, tossing their heads up and down and barking excitedly.
Dorek laughed and clapped back at his people, his own pride swelling his chest. "You see, Picard," he said, "as long as there are Kerdish, there will be a Cardassia."
"And if we fail to find the book?" Picard asked.
Dorek's exuberance faded a little. "We must make sure that does not happen."
With one last shout and wave, Damar turned his mount back in the direction they were headed. "For Cardassia!" he shouted, then spurred his hound to a gallop.
"For Cardassia!" Dorek repeated, reaching out to smack Kira's hound on the rump before he, too, took off in pursuit of glory and redemption.
* * * * *
They rode until nightfall, when Kormet ordered them to stop and make camp. Above the canyon rim Picard could see the reddish ribbons of lava coursing their way down the volcano's slopes. Beneath his feet, the ground continued to rumble. He hoped Data and the Kerdish remained out of harm's way.
In near silence they unsaddled and fed the hounds, ate a simple meal, and stretched out beneath the starless sky. Only the steady subterranean rumble and the occasional coughing from his companions reminded Picard of the impending calamity. For him, it was another night of fitful sleep.
Picard awoke several hours later to the sounds of nearby snuffling. He opened his eyes, only to find a pair of gentle eyes set far apart in a broad, furry face looking down at him. The eyes blinked once, then a tongue emerged from the hound's mouth and licked Picard's face from ear to ear. With a friendly groan Picard sat up and wiped his face. He looked around to see the others stirring. Dorek and Kormet, accustomed to rising and retiring in accordance with the sun, had already saddled their mounts. Behind them he saw the dark gaping maw of a cavern and realized their journey was about to take them deep within the heart of the mountain range. Despite the danger, his passion for exploration overrode his caution and he leaped to his feet, causing the hound to shy away with a nervous yelp and a wag of its scrubby tail.
"Easy, boy," he murmured, walking slowly toward the beast. "I didn't mean to frighten you." The hound huffed once, shook its head, then stretched toward Picard's extended hand. As soon as he felt its cold nose touch the tips of his fingers, Picard took another step forward and grasped the reins. The hound, responding to its training, immediately grew still.
"You learn fast, Picard," Dorek said, admiration evident in his voice, "for a Human."
"Thanks," Picard grunted. "I've had some practice." Then he asked, "Will we be able to take the hounds inside?"
Kormet nodded. "For a ways, at least. We'll have to tether them at the head of the falls. From there we'll make our way down on foot."
"Falls?" Kira asked, the first Picard had heard from her since the storm two nights ago. "Are you telling me this little trickle we've been following actually turns into a waterfall inside there?"
"Guess you'll just have to follow me and find out for yourself," Kormet said, leaping on to her hound's back with more of that agility Picard had admired the morning before.
Kira, for her part, scowled at Damar, who shrugged, then settled herself astride her own mount. "All right then, let's go," she said.
Both Kormet and Dorek laughed at Kira's bravado. "I like this one," Dorek said to no one in particular.
In a matter of minutes camp was broken, leaving only a jumble of foot and pawprints as evidence anyone had been there, and the team had fallen into single file behind Kormet and followed her into the belly of the mountain.
* * * * *
The path inside the mountain, once they had passed beyond the last gasps of daylight reaching in, was narrow, steep and strewn with stones. The hounds picked their way carefully, their broad, padded paws giving them extra stability on the water-slickened rock even as the walls hemmed in so closely Picard's knees scraped against them. There would be no turning back.
Picard could hear a steady roar coming from somewhere ahead of him, but the confined space made it difficult to tell just how far ahead the source lay. The air quickly grew cold in the damp, dark tunnel, and soon his Cardassian companions were donning thick, heavy cloaks. Not long after, he, too, put on his coat. Kira quickly followed suit. Damar, ahead of Colonel Kira, and Dorek, behind Picard, each ignited a miners' glowstick and held them at shoulder's-height to illuminate the way. The flickering light glistened against the damp walls.
After over an hour of riding, the roar had grown to be almost deafening. The path had not once eased its sharp descent, and Picard's lower back ached from adjusting his posture to balance his weight on his mount's back. The hounds were also obviously quite tired, judging from their heavy, labored breathing and their drooping heads. Picard was relieved when the path began to widen. His knees were scraped almost raw.
An ice-cold mist dampened his face and neck, causing him to hunch his shoulders and tuck his chin into his chest for warmth. Ahead of him, he could see that Kormet and Damar had raised the hoods on their cloaks. He wished he had brought a hat to cover his head.
The farther they progressed, the heavier the mist and the more deafening the roar grew. Colonel Kira's hair dripped down her back, where her jacket clung to her skin. The roar was so loud Picard could not even hear the snorting of the hounds as they blew moisture out of their nostrils.
The narrow tunnel caused by the rock formations suddenly widened. When Picard rode forward abreast of Kira to get a better view of what lay ahead, the spray hit him full-on in the face like thousands of tiny ice needles, nearly blinding him. Kira turned to him, her eyes blinking rapidly against the spray. "Have you ever seen anything like it?" she asked.
He held his hand against his brow to shield his eyes and looked up. And up. And up. The waterfall, at the base of which they now stood, reached so high into the mountain's hollow heart he could not see its top. Within his range of view, the spray caused by the water's merciless pounding at the rocks below, carving an ever-deeper trench through the eons, rose several meters above his head before falling back down, creating a constant rainfall-like effect.
Kormet had already dismounted and beckoned the others to do the same. When Picard stood once again upon solid ground, she led her mount over to him and shouted in his ear, her voice still barely audible above the fall's thunderous roar, "There's an opening beyond the fall. We can leave the hounds there."
With a nod to indicate he had heard and understood, he gathered the reins in one hand and fell in step behind her, motioning to Kira to follow. The surface, worn as smooth as glass by millennia of friction, was treacherous. He had to be careful not to lose his balance; the path was narrow enough that one false move could send him tumbling to his death between the crashing water and the waiting rocks.
Kormet led them beyond the cascade and through a crevice in the rock behind it. Inside, away from the mist, it was warm and dry. A spasm shook Picard's body as it adjusted to the rapid change in climate. Behind him, Kira sneezed and blew her nose. He thought he even heard teeth chattering.
There was a brief flash of light as Dorek ignited a fresh glowstick and thrust it into a crack in the stone wall. The chamber, as revealed in the glowstick's luminescence, was small but not cramped. The five hounds, as large as they were, would be comfortable here. Each rider took out a small satchel of dried food and laid it on the floor for his or her mount to partake of as needed. Water was in abundant supply. Picard had to chuckle to himself; a horse, as magnificent an animal as it might be, would never think to venture beyond the chamber. It would die of thirst within meters of several million kiloliters of fresh, pure water.
After unburdening his mount of its tack and piling the gear in a corner with the rest, Picard hefted his pack onto his shoulders, adjusting the straps to center its weight, then waited until the others were ready. Once Kira had exchanged her soaked jacket for a dry one, Kormet led them out of the chamber and away from the cascade.
* * * * *
The path they followed, although level, took so many switchbacks and hairpin turns they had soon passed beyond the spray's range, and before long even the roar of the falling water was little more than a fading rumble. Soon, however, a different sound reached Picard's ears, a sound that reminded him of a winter holiday he had once spent on the Dakota prairie.
He remembered being awakened one night by an unearthly, bone-numbing howl just outside his bedroom window. When he went to see if a wounded animal had sought refuge in the cabin's shadow, he found the entire world erased to a blank, white oblivion. He had heard about the notorious Dakota blizzards, but nothing could have prepared him for that absolute nothingness or the hideous wail of the blowing wind. Sleep became a foregone conclusion then, and he spent the rest of the night huddled by the fire, drinking cup after cup of scaldingly hot tea and praying he would not go mad before he could contact the ranger station and request a beam-out. The sound he now heard reminded him of that long, terrible night and the howling of the wind that stabbed at the base of his spine.
The farther they walked, the louder the wail grew. Desperate for relief, Picard tore two small squares of fabric from his coat lining and stuffed them in his ears. He could still hear the sound, but at least its pitch had been lowered to a moan. The Cardassians seemed to be unaffected, a result, no doubt, of their lower auditory range; if Kira was affected, she showed no sign of it. No doubt she had heard far worse during her years fighting for the Bajoran Resistance.
They squeezed through a narrow fissure -- so narrow, in fact, that Damar had to turn sideways to pass through it -- dropped to their hands and knees to crawl beneath a low overhang, then turned a corner into another enormous cavern. The wail had become a shriek by now, and as a gust of wind flattened Picard against the wall he understand why: thanks to the unpredictable movements of the tectonic plates that gave birth to this mountain, the cavern they now stood in had become a veritable wind tunnel.
Ahead of him, he saw Kormet say something to Damar, then gesture for him to pass it on to the others. When it was his turn, he removed the stuffing in one ear to hear Kira shout, "No matter what, keep close to the wall." He nodded, then passed the message to Dorek.
Once they had all received their instructions, Kormet held herself with her back against the wall, then inched sideways, one step at a time. Picard soon appreciated her caution; less than a meter beyond the entrance, the other side of the path they were on turned into a sheer drop-off, plummeting to unknown depths as it left them with only a half-meter-wide ledge to stand on.
The wind tore at them with the fury of a banshee, searing Picard's skin and wrenching tears from his eyes. He turned his head to one side, leaving only half his face exposed. Even with the wadding in his ears, the shriek was by now so high-pitched his skull seemed to vibrate with sound. Even the Cardassians had grown uncomfortable, and soon they had all followed his example.
Suddenly, the wind stopped and the shriek fell silent. The air became calm and still. Puzzled, Picard craned his neck forward to see how Kormet responded to the abrupt change. Kira, however, was more bold; she took a step away from the wall to peer into the chasm.
"Get back!" Kormet shouted, just as the wind returned with a vengeance. It caught Kira broadside, almost knocking her off the ledge with gale force. She would have fallen to her death, if Picard and Damar had not both acted quickly, each grabbing an arm and yanking her back to safety. Even so, the wind was so powerful Picard thought it would tear his arms from their sockets.
Kira plastered herself against the wall, her chest heaving with fright. For a moment, Picard thought she might even have been crying. Then he saw Damar take her hand in his and squeeze it tightly. Soon her breathing eased and her face lost its deathly pallor, and they resumed their cautious creep along the ledge.
* * * * *
The ledge ended before a sheer wall of stone after approximately thirty meters. The wind had died down some, so Picard leaned forward at the waist to study the precipice. Scaling it would be an impossible task, he deduced; any attempt would fail without climbing gear, and they had not brought any. He then looked down at the drop-off only centimeters from his toes. No telling how far down it went, and it looked to have been worn smooth by the rushing wind. As far as he could tell, there was no place to go but back they way they had come.
Kormet, however, had yet another surprise up her sleeve. In the length of time it took Picard to blink, she had disappeared. He blinked again. Where had she gone? Then Damar disappeared with like speed. When Kira sidled forward to where they had been, he saw the fissure between the two perpendicular cliffs, and realized where they were going. After Kira had sucked in her breath, taken one step away from the wall and ducked into the fissure, he quickly followed after her.
Through eons of subterranean seismic activity, the rocky floor had shaped itself into a staircase of sorts. As Picard followed the light of Damar's glowstick down the dank, confining steps, he thought of medieval castles and dungeons. He would not have been surprised to have come across a cell filled with instruments of torture, or debt-ridden prisoners and their entire families in chains. He tried not to imagine what Madred would have made of this place.
As they descended deeper beneath the surface, the air grew warmer and more stifling. Kira was the first to shed her outer garments, then Picard, and finally even the Cardassians found the heat uncomfortable. They stopped often to appease their thirst, but even that did not slow the perspiration from beading on Picard's brow and the back of his neck. Within minutes he was as soaked as he had been at the foot of the waterfall. Just thinking about all that icy cold water made him even more miserable. He longed for a gust of wind to find its way through the fissure and blow across his prickly, sweat-soaked skin.
When first Kormet, then Damar, then Kira, and finally himself and Dorek dropped to their bellies to crawl through a small hole leading to an adjoining chamber, Picard realized why it had grown so unbearably hot. As he wriggled his hips through and climbed to his feet, he saw a river of fast-moving magma less than ten meters away.
"We must hurry," Kormet said, wiping her bare arm across her brow. "The magma is flowing. That means it has found someplace to go."
"You mean the volcano?" Kira asked, her voice rendered a mere gasp by the heat.
"Not just one volcano," Kormet said. "Many volcanoes."
"Are we in one of those volcanoes right now?" Picard asked. The air was so hot it scorched his throat when he opened his mouth to speak.
"Yes," Kormet said. "So we must hurry. Time is running out." She broke into a trot that paralleled the magma river.
Despite his extreme exhaustion, Picard managed to keep pace with her, although his inability to breathe as deeply as he needed made the going even more arduous. Before long he felt light-headed, and slowed, then stopped, to ease the burning in his chest.
Dorek came to his rescue, grasping Picard's elbow and pulling him along. "Come on, Captain," he said. "Just pretend there's an Obsidian Order agent chasing us." Despite the grim imagery of Dorek's exhortation, Picard drew strength from it and renewed his pace.
The trail took a sharp curve to the right, away from the magma. Although Picard still felt as if he were on Q'onoS at the height of summer, the air cooled significantly. They traversed a narrow ledge with a fathomless drop-off on one side, then came to a naturally-formed bridge spanning the chasm. Kormet turned to them then and said, "You must wait here. I will get the book and bring it to you." Then, before anyone could protest, she sprinted across the bridge with a speed and grace that defied her age and disappeared into the opposing wall.
* * * * *
In the absence of anything else to do until Kormet returned -- and not knowing how to return to the surface -- they waited. Kira chose to pass her time by stalking back and forth along the ledge. Dorek lighted three more glowsticks and wedged them into various cracks in the stone façade, then leaned against the wall and watched Kira. Damar sat down on the edge of the precipice, preoccupied with his own internal thoughts and struggles.
Picard sat beside him and took his canteen from his pack. He offered it first to Damar, who refused, then took several long, deep swallows from it. Henceforth he would have to be careful about rationing his water; he had no way of knowing how long they would be down here. Once he had slaked his thirst, he took out the tricorder Data had given him and held it out over the abyss. The device chirped for several seconds before a figure appeared on the screen. Picard sucked in his breath.
"How deep?" Kira asked, pausing momentarily on her circuit.
"You don't want to know," he said. He leaned back to look up. If there was a roof to this cavern, he could not see it. He had traveled far and wide in his career in Starfleet, even as far as the Delta Quadrant, thanks to Q, but not even in the endless expanse of uncharted space had he felt so...small. It was a deeply unsettling and humbling sensation, and one he would be happy to leave behind.
The sound of voices stirred him from his musing, and he sat up straight. Kira stopped her pacing to walk several steps across the bridge. Presently Kormet returned whence she had come, a bundle held tightly in her arms and Q right behind her. Picard was not surprised -- Q had said he would meet them here -- but he would have loved to hear the story of their relationship. He suspected it would be just as full of mutual provocation and confrontation as his own relationship with the entity.
As Kormet approached, Picard saw that the bundle she carried consisted of a scroll wrapped in heavy fabric. Of course, he thought, mentally chastising his presumption, a book that old probably wouldn't be a 'book' in the classic sense. Eager for a closer look at this controversial artifact, he clambered to his feet, as did Damar.
Not surprisingly, Kira reached Kormet before the others did. She laid her hands on the bundle and asked, "Is this it?" Kormet tried to turn away from her, but Kira held on, moving with the old woman. "Is this the Book of the Resurrection?" she asked again.
An ear-splitting crack shook the cavern then, as though a giant had taken hold of the mountain and beaten it with a hammer. The force of the movement threw them all, even Q, to the ground. Rocks tumbled down from high above, and Picard ducked his head under his arms as they battered his body.
Even as the echoes of the quake reverberated throughout the cavern, Picard looked up to see that Kormet had lost her grip on the scroll. It now lay between her and Kira, unguarded and unprotected. Picard leaped to his feet to go after it before Kira could, but Dorek beat him to it, throwing his body over the precious bundle. "I will not let you destroy it!" he shouted at Kira. She swore loudly, in much the same way she had sworn at the giant in the bar, and lunged at him, intent on ripping him to shreds before she did the same to the scroll.
Another report shook the cavern. Before anyone could react, the Prophet's familiar voice thundered, "Give us the book!"
PART SEVEN
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Following Sisko's entry into the Celestial Temple in "What You Leave Behind," the Q find themselves facing a dilemma that could result in interplanetary catastrophe. Can Picard, Kira and Data retrieve the mysterious Book of the Resurrection before all hell breaks loose on Cardassia?
DISCLAIMER: Paramount owns the Star Trek universe and everything it encompasses. This story is not intended to infringe on any copyrights, and the only profit I gain by it is emotional satisfaction.
PART FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It seemed as though time stood still, as though everything had been frozen in place. To his left, Kira remained standing, reluctantly accepting Kormet's nomination. Just beyond them Damar remained locked in a half-crouch, his gaze fixed on some distant point. Picard turned and saw Data likewise situated, as though he, too, had spotted the unknown threat and had instinctively leaped to his feet. Picard turned around and around, searching for the smallest sign of movement from the assembly, but saw nothing.
"Jean-Luc," came a voice from behind him. Picard whirled.
"Q! I should have known this was your doing."
Q brushed aside the thinly-veiled insult to grab Picard's shoulders. "Listen, Jean-Luc, we haven't got much time," he said without a trace of irony. "I've yanked you out of the timeline to warn you of what's about to happen." He glanced over his shoulder, almost fearfully, Picard thought, then came a step or two closer, his gaze burning with intensity. "That point in space Damar and Data are so preoccupied with? That's Sisko. He's come here to stop you from locating the Book of the Resurrection."
"But... how...?"
"It doesn't really matter," he said. "Although I suggest you get out of this crater as soon as possible. Make sure the colonel, Damar, and Danal Kormet get out, too. If they die, none of this will have mattered."
"But..."
"Listen to me!" Q's face drew so close their noses almost touched. "I can't help you. Tell Kormet why you're here. Tell her you're here for the book. She will know what to do."
"But..." He felt like a half-trained parrot, squawking the same nonsensical phrase over and over.
"Hurry, Jean-Luc! Time is almost up. Get out of here, and get that book!"
Picard returned to temporal reality with a jolt. Pandemonium surrounded him. On all sides people were screaming and running for cover as molten rocks and lightning hailed down on them. Beside him, Data tugged him to his feet. "Captain," he said with urgent calmness, "I must get you to safety."
His thoughts racing, Picard rose. What had Q told him? He searched the chamber and found Kira and Kormet running toward the exit, the staff still held tightly between them. Several meters away, Damar and Dorek faced down a tall, imposing figure, a man with skin as dark as the storm clouds looming above, who stalked through the chamber, heedless of the tumult he left in his wake. "Sisko," Picard breathed.
Only the man was not the Benjamin Sisko he remembered, as he realized with another cold-water shock of reality when the figure turned and trained its electrifying blue eyes on him. Not Benjamin Sisko, but a Prophet. A Prophet in all its divine power and fury, hell-bent on thwarting his mission.
"The Picard must be stopped," it commanded, its voice resonating throughout the chamber. "The Picard will fail."
The sharp tang of sulfur burned Picard's eyes and nose, momentarily blinding him. Beneath his feet, the ground rumbled, shifted with an ear-splitting groan, then grew unnaturally warm. With horrified realization he knew what Sisko intended. "Come on!" he shouted to Data, squinting his eyes against the burning yellow haze as he hurtled across the ever-widening cracks in the floor.
A woman towing two small children tripped and fell to her knees before him, almost tumbling headfirst into a bubbling, hissing pool of lava. "Get them out of here, Mister Data," he ordered, helping the woman to her feet. "Tell everyone to go deep into the mountains, get them to higher ground, as fast as you can, before this volcano blows!" He took comfort in the knowledge that Data would fulfill his orders with alacrity and efficiency. With Data responsible for their safety, the Kerdish just might have a chance.
Picard then turned his attention to the two men valiantly challenging the Prophet. They looked almost ridiculous, Dorek with his saber and Damar with a blazing branch, but their determination to prevent the entity from harming the Kerdish was very serious. Picard picked up a rifle that had been discarded in the mêlée and aimed it at Sisko as he slowly walked toward the standoff, taking care around the incoming missiles and heaving floor. "Captain Sisko!" he barked, infusing his voice with every ounce of 'command tone' he could muster. "You are hereby relieved of duty. Stand down!" A ridiculous gambit, he thought, but he hoped to stir the Prophet's memories of the Human it had once been.
Once again Sisko focused its electric stare on him. Picard swore he could see energy stronger than that of a thousand stars glowing within the Prophet's unnaturally blue irises. Awestruck, he wavered. Q, where are you when I need you? he thought desperately, hoping his antagonist was close by, watching and listening, waiting for his grand entrance.
"The Picard is a fool if it thinks it can stop us," the Prophet said, its voice even more resonant than that of the physical form it appropriated. "The Picard is no match for the Sisko."
"The Sisko is a fool if it thinks it can slough off the real Benjamin Sisko so easily," Picard said. He was tempted to raise his weapon to chest level, but suspected the consequences would be fatal. "The Benjamin Sisko I knew would never maliciously attack innocent people."
"There is no innocence here," it said. "The Picard seeks to destroy us. The Picard is not of Bajor. We are of Bajor. The Sisko is of Bajor. The Sisko must defend Bajor."
"Then what are you doing here?" Dorek asked through clenched teeth. He started to raise his sword, but Picard waved him down. "Why don't you go back to Bajor where you belong and leave us alone!"
"We must defend Bajor from the evil ones," the Prophet insisted.
"What evil ones?" Damar wanted to know. "The Kerdish aren't evil! Cardassians aren't evil!"
"The book is evil. The book must not be opened. The book must be destroyed."
"The book--?" Picard wondered aloud. Pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. "Do you mean the Book of the Resurrection? The book Q sent me to find?"
"The Q seek to ruin us. The Q would have us abandon Bajor."
Picard took a step toward the Prophet, hoping that maybe he could reason with it. "Q isn't interested in Bajor, or in you."
"The Picard must not find the book. The book will destroy Bajor. The book will destroy us."
"The book isn't intended to destroy anything," Picard insisted.
"Captain?" Damar said. "He might be right."
Forgetting the very real danger he faced, Picard lowered his rifle to turn and stare at Damar. "What?"
The Cardassian nodded. "According to Colonel Kira, there's a Bajoran legend that says that when Cardassians regain Paradise, it will usher in Bajor's death. If I've understood everything correctly, the book you're looking for is the key to restoring Cardassia to Paradise."
"The... Book... of the... Resurrection..." Picard murmured. He glanced up first at Damar, then the Prophet. "The 'resurrection' refers to Cardassia?" he asked no one in particular. "And it's supposedly a coda to the Book of the Kosst Amojin --"
Before he could say another word, Sisko uttered a high, heart-wrenching wail. "The Evil One! The Picard must not speak of the Betrayer!" Blue light glowed, halolike, around the Prophet, its intensity increasing with the Prophet's agitation. "The Picard must not open the book, or the Evil One will be allowed to walk free forever. The Picard must find the book, and destroy it." In a flash of blue fire echoed by a powerful rumble from deep beneath their feet, the Prophet disappeared.
Suddenly the ground heaved, throwing the three remaining men off balance. An enormous boulder, glowing bright red from the heat pushing it, thrust skyward, knocking Picard sideways down a shallow incline toward a sea of lava. Picard scrabbled at the ground in an effort to slow his descent, but found nothing to gain a purchase on. He tried to turn himself then, to orient himself feet first, in the hope he could grab something, anything, before the molten rock reduced him to cinders. He could already feel the heat melting the soles of his boots.
Seemingly from out of nowhere, a gray, scaled hand appeared before his face. Picard looked up to see Damar stretched to almost impossible lengths, Dorek behind him, anchoring him to a solid chunk of rock. How long that rock would remain stable, however, was anyone's guess. Picard grabbed Damar's hand, using his feet to push himself away from the lava and toward his would-be rescuers.
Their neck ridges blue-black with exertion, the two Cardassians strained to pull him out of danger's path. For a moment, he thought they would fail, sending all three of them tumbling to their fiery deaths. Then Dorek let loose with a howl of triumphant defiance and, pulling so hard his face turned almost purple, freed them from the clutches of gravity.
"Thank you," Picard gasped, his chest burning, as he slumped against the rock.
"Plenty of time for gratitude later," Dorek wheezed. Damar stood off to one side, doubled over with hard, heavy breaths. "This volcano's going to erupt any minute. If you don't mind, I'd like to get the hell out of here while I still can."
"Agreed," Picard said. Damar raised himself up enough to shake his head in agreement, then the three men sprinted for the exit.
* * * * *
Kira paced back and forth beneath the outcropping that now served as a temporary shelter for the refugees. She was furious with herself. She could not decide what angered her more: her silence when confronted with Kormet's outrageous lies about the Prophets, or her cowardly flight from the Emissary. What sort of Bajoran was she? She may not have been particularly religious ten years ago, when she had more important matters to deal with, but she thought she had grown out of that youthful agnostic rebellion. Was she backsliding? She hoped not, but it seemed to be the most logical explanation for her recent ambivalence toward the Prophets.
Or -- she sucked in her breath at the thought -- what if the two pagh-wraiths who had visited her back on Deep Space Nine had infected her soul? What if her infidelity had been engineered by them, so that they could use her to accomplish their evil goals? They had been known to seduce devout, Prophet-fearing Bajorans before, as the fate of the last kai demonstrated. They had even been known to inhabit the bodies of non-Bajorans such as Keiko O'Brien, Jake Sisko and even Gul Dukat, in an effort to terrorize Bajorans. What if... what if.... She shuddered at the possibility. What if Captain Picard, or perhaps even Damar, Prophets forbid, had fallen under the influence of the pagh-wraiths? Prophets preserve us, she prayed as she stared into the darkness, watching the ribbons of lava course down the slopes of a distant mountain and hoping they had survived the eruption.
She looked down at Kormet's staff, which she still held in one hand. Why, of all the people gathered to hear her story, had the old woman chosen Kira to be her successor? Why had she given Kira the staff? More importantly, why had Kira accepted it? Was it a secret sign of some sort, a token of the covenant between the pagh-wraiths and their devotees? In accepting it, had Kira sealed her fate among the damned?
With renewed horror and self-doubt she looked at the staff again. For all she knew, those trinkets dangling from the top could be pagh-wraith fetishes. Her heart full of indignation and fury, she raised it high and smashed it down on her bent knee, splitting it into two pieces with a thunderous crack. Then she flung the pieces into the night, holding her breath until she heard them clatter on the rocks below.
"Couldn't have done better myself," said a voice behind her. Kira spun to see Kormet approaching, a torch held in one hand. "I've been wanting to do that for years. You know Cardassians, though: we just love our relics and symbols and traditions." She walked to the edge of the cliff and peered over the precipice, then wedged her torch into a crack in the rock.
Kira stared at her in distrust. Finally she summoned enough courage to ask, "Who -- or what -- are you?"
Kormet turned to her with an enigmatic smile. "I am exactly what you see: an old Cardassian woman who has long outlived her usefulness."
Unswayed, Kira pressed, "Who sent you here?"
"Who sent me?" Kormet seemed perplexed. "No one sent me. I've been here all along. The question is, who sent you?"
Intensely discomfited by Kormet's acute perception, Kira turned away. "I thought I knew, but now I'm not so sure. I thought I'd come here to serve the Prophets. But what if --" her eyes burned with unshed tears "-- what if I've been sent here to do evil?"
She felt a gentle weight settle across her shoulders. Despite her fears and doubts, Kira found comfort in Kormet's touch. "What if it was not the Prophets who sent you here, but the pagh-wraiths?" Kira nodded. "Do you think the pagh-wraiths are evil?"
Kira swiped the tears from her face. "Of course I do! The Prophets --"
"The Prophets told your people that the pagh-wraiths were evil, and of course you believe them." Kira nodded again. "Despite what they would have us believe, gods are not all that different from us. They suffer from jealousy, just like we do. Why do you think the first law of nearly every religion is 'thou shalt have no other gods before me'?"
Kira stared at her, dumbfounded. "Are you saying the Prophets are jealous of the pagh-wraiths?"
"No, not at all. But they are fiercely protective of their realm and influence. For every Bajoran who turns to the pagh-wraiths, the Prophets lose some of their relevance as gods. What's the point in being a god if no one will worship you?"
"The Prophets told us the pagh-wraiths were evil so we wouldn't worship them?" She shook her head. "How do I know you're not a pagh-wraith trying to seduce me?"
Kormet patted her shoulders. "For centuries, Central Command told Cardassian civilians that the Kerdish were evil because we chose to uphold ancient customs they claimed were riddled with superstition. As a result, we were driven from our homes and persecuted until we sought refuge in the desert and underground." Her watery blue-eyed gaze seemed to bore through Kira's skull. "Do you think we're evil?"
Stifling a snort, Kira said, "I don't know if you are or not."
Kormet's gay laughter echoed across the mountain range. "Good answer! You are closer to the truth than you realize." She squeezed Kira's shoulders more firmly, forcing Kira to turn and face her. "Evil rests in the eyes and the heart of the beholder. Do not let anyone tell you, 'This is evil,' or 'They are evil.' Let your heart decide what is and is not evil. Trust your judgment. If a thing or a person is truly evil, then you will know."
"But what--?"
She hushed Kira by pressing her hand to her lips. "Don't let yourself get caught up in 'but whats.' Do what you know is right, even if it contradicts everything you'd known before. Did the Prophets send you here? Maybe. The pagh-wraiths? Perhaps. Until you know for certain whose path you walk on, though, all you can do is to walk in the path of righteousness. Do right, and evil will vanish."
"You make it all sound so easy," Kira muttered. Try as she might, she could not block the images of Dukat on Empok Nor, leading a group of Bajorans in a mockery of everything she held to be true and righteous, from her mind's eye. If ever she had known evil.... She closed her mind to those unwelcome memories.
Kormet's bright eyes flashed in the torch's wavering light. "Dorek says the same thing. He says I see too much goodness where I should see evil. But --" she shrugged "-- all things considered, my life has been rich with blessings. Why shouldn't I see goodness, when I have known so much joy?"
"How can you say that after all Cardassia's been through -- after what happened tonight?" Kira asked, incredulous.
"Tell me something," Kormet said, sliding her arm off Kira's shoulders to clasp her hand. "Were there days, when your people were struggling against mine, when you wished you could go to sleep and never wake up?"
Kira bit her lip, almost overcome with emotion as long-repressed memories flooded through her. Before the tears took away her power of speech, she nodded. "Yes."
Kormet wrapped her other hand around Kira's, enveloping it with warmth and kindness. "I have days like that, too." She looked off into the distance. "In the past few years, there've been more and more of them."
Kira took a deep, shuddering breath before speaking. "How do you deal with them?" she asked.
Kormet's gaze shifted back toward Kira. She raised a gnarled hand to rest it against Kira's cheek. "How did you cope during those dark nights on Bajor?"
"I..." Kira sought to remember what had driven her so much. "I didn't want the Occupation to outlast me. I was determined not to let the...the Cardassians defeat me, by staying on Bajor longer than I stayed alive. I was going to see Bajor a free world before I'd give in to the despair."
The older woman's soft smile filled her with hope and peace. "As I have done," Kormet said. "Each night, when the blackness comes and I wonder if it's worth it to go on, I tell myself that the next day is a brand new day overflowing with possibilities. One day Cardassia will be born anew. I want to live to see that day."
A memory, separate from those of Dukat and the Occupation, jogged at the back of Kira's mind. Hoping she was not about to make a fatal mistake, she asked, "What if Cardassia's rebirth means Bajor's death?"
Kormet tilted her head to one side as she studied Kira at length. "You mean, what if the myth of Ha'Bajra is true?" Unsure how to proceed, Kira nodded. "What if it is?"
Kira gaped. "I should think that would be pretty obvious, even to you!" she snapped, her instinctive distrust resurfacing with a vengeance. "Let's get one thing straight: I will not let you, or anyone, do anything to put Bajor in danger. Whatever it takes, I will stop you." She folded her arms over her chest and took a step toward Kormet, to add weight to her oath.
If the old woman felt threatened, she showed no sign of it. "Colonel," she said without any hint of concern or disapproval, "your loyalty to your people is commendable. If anything, it demonstrates the sincerity of your motives in coming here. Your anger, however, is misdirected. We Kerdish have no interest in Bajor. Cardassia is our home. If there is indeed a Ha-Bajra -- a Paradise -- then it is here. Not on Bajor, not on Earth, not on Vulcan, but here, where we have lived and died for over 100,000 years." She grasped Kira's arms in her long, bony fingers. "Our legends say nothing about the restoration of Paradise bringing on another world's death. That is your people's interpolation."
"Maybe your version is incomplete," Kira muttered.
"Maybe," Kormet said. "But I think that if that were the case, you wouldn't have come here to look for the Book of the Resurrection." Kira's jaw dropped. "If the truth resided on Bajor in its entirety, then the book would have been there as well."
"How... How...?" Kira stammered.
"How did I know that was your objective?" Kormet laughed merrily. "Dearest Colonel, Damar told me what brought you here within minutes of your arrival!" She continued to chuckle, squeezing Kira's arms in her humor.
"Leave it to a Cardassian to be indiscreet."
Kormet patted her shoulder. "Not at all. He was concerned for our safety -- rightly so, I should say," she added with a meaningful look at Kira.
"Why didn't you take his warning to heart?"
"Who says we didn't? We've had you and Captain Picard watched from the outset. We're not naïve."
If she did not already respect Kormet's precaution, Kira would have been more offended. Even so, she could not help bristling. "Why didn't you just lock us up where we couldn't cause trouble, or dispose of us? No one knows we're out here. You could easily have gotten away with murder."
This time, Kormet bristled with indignation. "And play right into your prejudices? We're Kerdish, Colonel, not agents of the Obsidian Order. We cherish all life."
"Even the lives of the Prophets?"
"Even the lives of the Prophets."
"Even though, according to your mythology, it was the Prophets -- my gods -- who banished your ancestors from Paradise?"
"What's done is done. Revenge won't undo past injustices." She stared at Kira. "How many times will I have to assure you that we mean you no harm?"
Kira planted her hands on her hips. "As many times as it takes to convince me."
"I see," Kormet said. She turned to walk a few meters away from Kira. "What of your motives?" she asked. "What assurances can you give me?"
Kira felt a sudden chill. "What do you mean?" she asked, dissembling, hoping to throw Kormet off course.
The old woman's snort told Kira she had failed to persuade Kormet of her ignorance. "Don't play games with me, child," she said, her voice full of warning and menace. "Damar didn't just tell me why you came here. I also know what you intend to do with the book."
Kira decided to try to bluff the old woman. There was no point in concealing the truth anymore anyway. "You can try to stop me if you want, but I will not rest easy until that book is in cinders."
"That book that you would so blithely toss into a pyre is our most sacred relic!"
"It is a book that promises nothing but evil!"
Kormet whirled, her eyes blazing, her fists clenched, her ridges raised and pulsating. "How dare you accuse us of evil? Have you learned nothing tonight?"
"Oh, I've learned plenty," Kira said. "I've learned that you will say anything to pollute my mind -- anything to turn me against the Prophets."
"Turn you against the Prophets? I don't give a damn about your Prophets!"
At that point, her bluff collapsed. With utter conviction she shot back, "And I don't give a damn about your holy book!"
For a long time the two women glared at each other in furious silence. Kira had sworn she would do anything to protect Bajor and the Prophets. She suspected Kormet had taken the same oath to defend her people and her traditions. Despite her antipathy and distrust toward the Cardassian, Kira had to admire her fierce maternal instincts. She doubted anyone could have done better than Kormet in protecting, preserving and upholding Kerdish civilization and culture during Cardassia's recent tumultuous past. Surely that was worth something?
Did it really matter? Picard was determined to find the book, and if he was anything like the other Humans she had known, not even a volcanic eruption could stand in his way. One way or another, he would find it. When he did, one way or another, Kira would destroy it.
* * * * *
Damar followed Dorek and Captain Picard up the narrow steps an enterprising climber had cut into the side of the mountain centuries before. When they came around the escarpment, they found Kormet and Colonel Kira in a silent standoff illuminated in the glow from a solitary torch.
After fleeing the volcano only moments before the lava pushed completely through the surface and up into the cone, Dorek had led them through a petrified forest to the base of a flat-topped mountain he said was the most likely place the Kerdish would have sought shelter in. While ascending the steep trail they had heard Kormet's clear laugh echoing above their heads and known they were on the right track. Not long after, they began to hear indistinct sounds that soon grew into voices. The closer they came, the more they could hear of Kormet's and Kira's conversation. Damar realized then that the colonel would be furious with him for betraying her motives to Kormet. If Picard already knew of her plans to destroy the book, Damar could not tell. As far as he was concerned, he had made the right choice. When the voices grew sharper and more heated, Dorek increased his pace. They almost raced up the steps when the argument fell suddenly silent.
Damar was relieved to find the two women simply glaring at each other, rather than tearing out each other's hearts. On the other hand, he knew that the stakes had just been changed, and not necessarily for the better. It was likely, perhaps even a certainty, that Picard, Data and Kira would now be turned away empty-handed. He had a feeling neither of them would give up quite so easily. That could mean trouble -- and he had a sinking feeling he would be caught right in the middle of it.
Before any of them could say a word, however, there was a blinding flash of white light in their midst. Damar quickly turned away, shielding his eyes. Had Sisko returned to wreak further havoc on the Kerdish? He had felt like such a fool, challenging Sisko with a burning stick, Dorek right behind him with his minetsa. It was a wonder Sisko had not banished both of them to perdition right then and there for their audacity and stupidity. Not even Weyoun had managed to emasculate him so successfully. Damar's anger and despair over his helplessness in the face of such incomprehensible power grew.
When the spots cleared from his vision and he looked up, he beheld a strange sight. In the interval, Dorek and Kira had each freed their weapons and aimed them at a tall Human dressed, incongruously enough, in an old Starfleet uniform. Kormet and Picard, in contrast, seemed to be neither amazed nor alarmed as they approached the stranger from opposing angles. "Q!" they said as one. Oddly, neither one seemed surprised that the other knew the stranger. Damar did not know what to make of the situation.
"Dammit, Q, what do you want this time?" Picard asked.
"You're behind all this?" Kormet asked in turn.
Bewildered, Damar looked at Kira in the hopes of finding an explanation. If she saw his distress, she ignored it; she was too focused on keeping the stranger in her sights. That, in itself, should have been sufficient, but Kormet's familiarity with the stranger unnerved him. Most disturbing of all, he could have sworn he had heard the stranger's voice before, but for the life of him he did not know where or how.
The stranger looked at Kormet with a mixture of arrogance and compassion. "I told you the Continuum would come to your aid," he said.
She guffawed. "You've been making that promise for thousands of years!"
He shrugged. "Better late than never."
"Q," Picard said, interrupting their exchange, "what is the meaning of all this? How do you know this woman? What is she talking about? What has any of this got to do with why you sent me here?" As if on cue, Q and Kormet raised a hand to silence him.
Damar crept around them to stand behind Kira. "Do you understand any of this?" he asked, keeping his voice to a whisper.
"I don't have to," she said through gritted teeth. "I already know all I need to."
If Damar was supposed to feel reassured, he did not. In fact, his headache increased. He did not like what he was seeing and hearing. Unlike his mentor, who relished complexity with the same enthusiasm he had for Bajoran women, Damar was a simple man who preferred simple problems with simple solutions. The last time he had had to wrestle with an ethical conundrum, he had instead sought refuge in the bottom of a bottle of kanar. He would prefer not to go that route again, but this was indubitably a complex situation that even Dukat would have found disturbing. Damar did not even know where to begin to search for answers to this dilemma.
"You can shush me all you want," Picard said, refusing to back down, "but I refuse to walk away from this with unanswered questions."
"Fine," Q said, "you want answers? I'll give you answers. The Human you once knew as Captain Benjamin Sisko and that the Bajorans revere as their Emissary has taken up residence in the Celestial Temple. We want him out. Furthermore, the Kerdish want their gods freed from the prison the Prophets have kept them in for over 100,000 years. We promised the Kerdish thousand of years ago that we would help them. Unfortunately," he sighed, "when you're an immortal being, a thousand years is gone in a snap. And, of course, we had other affairs to attend to. So now we are going to -- as you Humans are so fond of saying -- kill two birds with one stone."
Kormet stared at him in unabashed shock. "You're finally going to fulfill your promise to us?"
Q nodded. "By setting your gods free, we can simultaneously force the Prophets out of the Celestial Temple, where they never should have been in the first place -- and never would have been, if anyone had bothered to listen to me, which they didn't, which is why we're here now."
"Like hell you will," Kira growled, stalking toward him.
"Well, yes, no doubt hell will play a significant role in this little Homeric epic," Q said. "The P will certainly raise holy hell trying to stop you from freeing the W."
Who are the P? Damar wondered. Who are the W? For that matter, who are the Q? He doubted he would like the answer.
"Stop us?" Picard asked. "Don't you mean stop you?"
"No, Jean-Luc, I mean stop you. I told you before that I can't get involved. All we humble Q can do is issue edicts and make decrees about the natural order of the cosmos. It's up to you mortal beings to --" he chortled "-- 'make it so'. If we did all the dirty work, it'd be deus ex machina this and deus ex machina that until your head spins."
"Good," Kira said. "Then you won't stand in my way when I burn that book."
Q steepled his fingers and frowned at her. "I'm afraid I can't allow you to do that. An edict has been issued and a decree has been made. The book will be opened, the Prophets will leave the Celestial Temple, and I will fulfill a long-standing promise to the Kerdish."
"We'll see about that," Kira said, her face twisted in a scowl Damar had not seen since Terok Nor had last been under Cardassian control. "Those aren't 'gods' you intend to unleash on the universe, they're the pagh-wraiths."
"Dear Nerys," Q said, clucking his tongue like a disapproving instructor. "If you would just let go of your prejudices long enough to listen, you would see that this will ultimately benefit Bajor. I mean, really: this whole 'sky god' bit is just a bunch of nonsense. Why would anyone want to waste their time on a sky god? It's just a cheap way of rationalizing equivocation by people who think they're too advanced for religion, yet aren't quite advanced enough to completely give it up. A true god is bound to the world and the people it guides and protects. How anyone can be a proper god from several hundred thousand kilometers away is beyond me." He scrutinized his fingernails, oblivious to the look of horror on Kira's face and the look of amusement on Kormet's.
"A very poetic speech," Picard said, his arms folded across his chest, "but you're omitting one small detail: you're a sky god."
Q harrumphed. "As usual, Jean-Luc, you're comparing Bajorans and Cardassians. I'm not a god. I'm a Q. There's a cosmos of difference between the two." Damar could not be sure, but he thought he heard Picard mutter something about a walking and talking duck. "Nonetheless," Q continued, as if he had not heard Picard's aside, "it's time for the P to leave the Celestial Temple and set up housekeeping on Bajor, where they should have been all along. The W will stay here, with the Kerdish, where they belong."
"I suppose you expect me to believe you," Kira said.
"You can call me a liar all you want, dear Nerys, but the Q will make sure everybody stays in their proper place." Picard snorted.
So did Kira. "The instant your back is turned, the pagh-wraiths will be back on Bajor making our lives a living nightmare."
"Look, you frozen little pleat-nosed shrew," he snapped, his eyes flashing with irritation and anger, "you can complain until you're blue in the face, but like it or not, this is what's going to happen -- and if you so much as raise a finger to stand in my way, I'll lock you up with Kosst Amojin myself!" Kira, her face ashen and her eyes wide, took a quick step back.
Before the argument could begin anew, Damar said, "So then we're agreed that we're to go after the book?" surprising even himself with his bold decisiveness.
"I'm game," Q said, rubbing his palms together. "How about you, Jean-Luc?"
"Does anyone even know where the book is kept?" Dorek asked.
"I do," Kormet said. "But we're not going tonight. It's late, we've all had a very long and tiring day, and the road ahead of us is treacherous. We will leave tomorrow, after we have rested and I have had the opportunity to reassure my people. I won't leave until they are confident I've left them in good hands."
"A fair decision," Picard said. "One more day in 100,000 years won't hurt. I'll instruct Mister Data to stay behind tomorrow, in case the volcano erupts again." Kormet nodded at him in grim acceptance. "Does that suit you?" he asked Kira.
She, too, nodded as she holstered her weapon. "Just so long as I can get my hands on it before you use it to ruin Bajor, tomorrow morning is as good a time as any."
"Good, then it's settled," Q said. "Now you run along nighty-night, and I'll meet you at the finish line." With another blinding flash, he disappeared.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The sky glowed a thick sanguine red where the first rays of dawn managed to pierce the smoke clouds hanging low over the mountain range like a shroud. The air was thick and hot, supercharged by the distant volcano belching lava down its slopes and the rising anticipation of what lay ahead. Picard doubted he had slept more than twenty minutes all night. He admitted to himself, even if to no one else, that he was afraid.
In the past, when he had shepherded first the Stargazer and then the Enterprise through the darkest frontiers of space, he had almost always known what to expect. Alien races, no matter how alien they might seem on the surface, were, in their fundamental needs and desires, remarkably alike. Over the years Picard had learned to guess with reasonable accuracy which species would most likely prove to be aggressive, which would be peaceful, which would be hostile, and which would be hospitable. He could think of only two occasions in his career as a Starfleet officer when he had been forced to act without any idea of what reaction to expect.
The first occasion had been fifteen years ago, when he and his crew had first come to Q's attention. The second had come a year later, when Q had flung the Enterprise across thousands of light-years, right into the waiting arms of the Borg Collective. On neither occasion had Picard been able to assess his adversary's mindset, and on both occasions he had paid dearly for his ignorance. Now here he was again, fumbling his way blindly through a situation over which he had no control, once again at Q's mercy. Picard was afraid, and with good reason.
They breakfasted quickly and quietly, only Kormet even bothering to sit while the others alternated between picking at their food until it grew cold and pacing about. In much the same manner they saddled the hounds and loaded their gear. As they had agreed the night before, Data would stay behind with the Kerdish. Picard could tell that Data was displeased, but he knew he could count on Data to do anything necessary to keep them out of harm's way.
Damar swung into his mount's saddle, the others quickly following suit. Picard was amazed at the ease and agility with which Kormet leaped on to her mount's back. Even though she had been a nomad all her life, she nevertheless must have been well into her 90s. Picard hoped he would still be as spry in thirty years.
Kormet clucked to her hound and led the way into a narrow gorge cut into the forbidding bedrock by a small stream that now wound its burbling way around the hounds' paws. Steep rocky walls soared high above their heads on both sides, giving Picard a sensation of claustrophobia he found unfamiliar and unwelcome. Once the group passed through the tight opening, the path widened enough for them to ride two abreast. Kormet and Damar rode side-by-side in the lead, followed by Kira, with Picard and Dorek taking up the rear. Silence descended upon them as the canyon walls closed out the volcano's steady rumble.
Suddenly and without warning a stone broke free from high above, tumbling down toward the group and showering them with golden-brown fragments. Startled at the sudden noise, Picard looked up, then gasped at what he saw. Beside him, Dorek jerked his head up.
Both sides of the canyon rim were lined with the members of Kormet's tribe. Even Data stood there amongst them, silently bidding his captain farewell.
Ahead of them, Damar had reined his hound to a stop and turned, his face lifted up, his chest rising and falling. After a moment he cried out, "Remember the tales of our ancestors! Today is a new day -- a day of new beginnings -- a day of rebirth -- for the Kerdish -- for all Cardassia! As long as there is blood in my veins and air in my lungs, I promise you, we will find the sacred book of our ancestors and usher in the Age of Paradise. We will return!"
There was a long moment as Damar's emotional speech echoed across the canyon. Then, before the last syllable had faded away, there arose such a tumult from the Kerdish that Picard feared their acclaim might start an avalanche. They shouted, clapped, stamped their feet, whistled, even a few fired their phasers into the air, the sound of their pride and exultation washing over Picard and his companions in a series of waves, each one seemingly more joyful than the first. Even the riding hounds seemed to take part, tossing their heads up and down and barking excitedly.
Dorek laughed and clapped back at his people, his own pride swelling his chest. "You see, Picard," he said, "as long as there are Kerdish, there will be a Cardassia."
"And if we fail to find the book?" Picard asked.
Dorek's exuberance faded a little. "We must make sure that does not happen."
With one last shout and wave, Damar turned his mount back in the direction they were headed. "For Cardassia!" he shouted, then spurred his hound to a gallop.
"For Cardassia!" Dorek repeated, reaching out to smack Kira's hound on the rump before he, too, took off in pursuit of glory and redemption.
* * * * *
They rode until nightfall, when Kormet ordered them to stop and make camp. Above the canyon rim Picard could see the reddish ribbons of lava coursing their way down the volcano's slopes. Beneath his feet, the ground continued to rumble. He hoped Data and the Kerdish remained out of harm's way.
In near silence they unsaddled and fed the hounds, ate a simple meal, and stretched out beneath the starless sky. Only the steady subterranean rumble and the occasional coughing from his companions reminded Picard of the impending calamity. For him, it was another night of fitful sleep.
Picard awoke several hours later to the sounds of nearby snuffling. He opened his eyes, only to find a pair of gentle eyes set far apart in a broad, furry face looking down at him. The eyes blinked once, then a tongue emerged from the hound's mouth and licked Picard's face from ear to ear. With a friendly groan Picard sat up and wiped his face. He looked around to see the others stirring. Dorek and Kormet, accustomed to rising and retiring in accordance with the sun, had already saddled their mounts. Behind them he saw the dark gaping maw of a cavern and realized their journey was about to take them deep within the heart of the mountain range. Despite the danger, his passion for exploration overrode his caution and he leaped to his feet, causing the hound to shy away with a nervous yelp and a wag of its scrubby tail.
"Easy, boy," he murmured, walking slowly toward the beast. "I didn't mean to frighten you." The hound huffed once, shook its head, then stretched toward Picard's extended hand. As soon as he felt its cold nose touch the tips of his fingers, Picard took another step forward and grasped the reins. The hound, responding to its training, immediately grew still.
"You learn fast, Picard," Dorek said, admiration evident in his voice, "for a Human."
"Thanks," Picard grunted. "I've had some practice." Then he asked, "Will we be able to take the hounds inside?"
Kormet nodded. "For a ways, at least. We'll have to tether them at the head of the falls. From there we'll make our way down on foot."
"Falls?" Kira asked, the first Picard had heard from her since the storm two nights ago. "Are you telling me this little trickle we've been following actually turns into a waterfall inside there?"
"Guess you'll just have to follow me and find out for yourself," Kormet said, leaping on to her hound's back with more of that agility Picard had admired the morning before.
Kira, for her part, scowled at Damar, who shrugged, then settled herself astride her own mount. "All right then, let's go," she said.
Both Kormet and Dorek laughed at Kira's bravado. "I like this one," Dorek said to no one in particular.
In a matter of minutes camp was broken, leaving only a jumble of foot and pawprints as evidence anyone had been there, and the team had fallen into single file behind Kormet and followed her into the belly of the mountain.
* * * * *
The path inside the mountain, once they had passed beyond the last gasps of daylight reaching in, was narrow, steep and strewn with stones. The hounds picked their way carefully, their broad, padded paws giving them extra stability on the water-slickened rock even as the walls hemmed in so closely Picard's knees scraped against them. There would be no turning back.
Picard could hear a steady roar coming from somewhere ahead of him, but the confined space made it difficult to tell just how far ahead the source lay. The air quickly grew cold in the damp, dark tunnel, and soon his Cardassian companions were donning thick, heavy cloaks. Not long after, he, too, put on his coat. Kira quickly followed suit. Damar, ahead of Colonel Kira, and Dorek, behind Picard, each ignited a miners' glowstick and held them at shoulder's-height to illuminate the way. The flickering light glistened against the damp walls.
After over an hour of riding, the roar had grown to be almost deafening. The path had not once eased its sharp descent, and Picard's lower back ached from adjusting his posture to balance his weight on his mount's back. The hounds were also obviously quite tired, judging from their heavy, labored breathing and their drooping heads. Picard was relieved when the path began to widen. His knees were scraped almost raw.
An ice-cold mist dampened his face and neck, causing him to hunch his shoulders and tuck his chin into his chest for warmth. Ahead of him, he could see that Kormet and Damar had raised the hoods on their cloaks. He wished he had brought a hat to cover his head.
The farther they progressed, the heavier the mist and the more deafening the roar grew. Colonel Kira's hair dripped down her back, where her jacket clung to her skin. The roar was so loud Picard could not even hear the snorting of the hounds as they blew moisture out of their nostrils.
The narrow tunnel caused by the rock formations suddenly widened. When Picard rode forward abreast of Kira to get a better view of what lay ahead, the spray hit him full-on in the face like thousands of tiny ice needles, nearly blinding him. Kira turned to him, her eyes blinking rapidly against the spray. "Have you ever seen anything like it?" she asked.
He held his hand against his brow to shield his eyes and looked up. And up. And up. The waterfall, at the base of which they now stood, reached so high into the mountain's hollow heart he could not see its top. Within his range of view, the spray caused by the water's merciless pounding at the rocks below, carving an ever-deeper trench through the eons, rose several meters above his head before falling back down, creating a constant rainfall-like effect.
Kormet had already dismounted and beckoned the others to do the same. When Picard stood once again upon solid ground, she led her mount over to him and shouted in his ear, her voice still barely audible above the fall's thunderous roar, "There's an opening beyond the fall. We can leave the hounds there."
With a nod to indicate he had heard and understood, he gathered the reins in one hand and fell in step behind her, motioning to Kira to follow. The surface, worn as smooth as glass by millennia of friction, was treacherous. He had to be careful not to lose his balance; the path was narrow enough that one false move could send him tumbling to his death between the crashing water and the waiting rocks.
Kormet led them beyond the cascade and through a crevice in the rock behind it. Inside, away from the mist, it was warm and dry. A spasm shook Picard's body as it adjusted to the rapid change in climate. Behind him, Kira sneezed and blew her nose. He thought he even heard teeth chattering.
There was a brief flash of light as Dorek ignited a fresh glowstick and thrust it into a crack in the stone wall. The chamber, as revealed in the glowstick's luminescence, was small but not cramped. The five hounds, as large as they were, would be comfortable here. Each rider took out a small satchel of dried food and laid it on the floor for his or her mount to partake of as needed. Water was in abundant supply. Picard had to chuckle to himself; a horse, as magnificent an animal as it might be, would never think to venture beyond the chamber. It would die of thirst within meters of several million kiloliters of fresh, pure water.
After unburdening his mount of its tack and piling the gear in a corner with the rest, Picard hefted his pack onto his shoulders, adjusting the straps to center its weight, then waited until the others were ready. Once Kira had exchanged her soaked jacket for a dry one, Kormet led them out of the chamber and away from the cascade.
* * * * *
The path they followed, although level, took so many switchbacks and hairpin turns they had soon passed beyond the spray's range, and before long even the roar of the falling water was little more than a fading rumble. Soon, however, a different sound reached Picard's ears, a sound that reminded him of a winter holiday he had once spent on the Dakota prairie.
He remembered being awakened one night by an unearthly, bone-numbing howl just outside his bedroom window. When he went to see if a wounded animal had sought refuge in the cabin's shadow, he found the entire world erased to a blank, white oblivion. He had heard about the notorious Dakota blizzards, but nothing could have prepared him for that absolute nothingness or the hideous wail of the blowing wind. Sleep became a foregone conclusion then, and he spent the rest of the night huddled by the fire, drinking cup after cup of scaldingly hot tea and praying he would not go mad before he could contact the ranger station and request a beam-out. The sound he now heard reminded him of that long, terrible night and the howling of the wind that stabbed at the base of his spine.
The farther they walked, the louder the wail grew. Desperate for relief, Picard tore two small squares of fabric from his coat lining and stuffed them in his ears. He could still hear the sound, but at least its pitch had been lowered to a moan. The Cardassians seemed to be unaffected, a result, no doubt, of their lower auditory range; if Kira was affected, she showed no sign of it. No doubt she had heard far worse during her years fighting for the Bajoran Resistance.
They squeezed through a narrow fissure -- so narrow, in fact, that Damar had to turn sideways to pass through it -- dropped to their hands and knees to crawl beneath a low overhang, then turned a corner into another enormous cavern. The wail had become a shriek by now, and as a gust of wind flattened Picard against the wall he understand why: thanks to the unpredictable movements of the tectonic plates that gave birth to this mountain, the cavern they now stood in had become a veritable wind tunnel.
Ahead of him, he saw Kormet say something to Damar, then gesture for him to pass it on to the others. When it was his turn, he removed the stuffing in one ear to hear Kira shout, "No matter what, keep close to the wall." He nodded, then passed the message to Dorek.
Once they had all received their instructions, Kormet held herself with her back against the wall, then inched sideways, one step at a time. Picard soon appreciated her caution; less than a meter beyond the entrance, the other side of the path they were on turned into a sheer drop-off, plummeting to unknown depths as it left them with only a half-meter-wide ledge to stand on.
The wind tore at them with the fury of a banshee, searing Picard's skin and wrenching tears from his eyes. He turned his head to one side, leaving only half his face exposed. Even with the wadding in his ears, the shriek was by now so high-pitched his skull seemed to vibrate with sound. Even the Cardassians had grown uncomfortable, and soon they had all followed his example.
Suddenly, the wind stopped and the shriek fell silent. The air became calm and still. Puzzled, Picard craned his neck forward to see how Kormet responded to the abrupt change. Kira, however, was more bold; she took a step away from the wall to peer into the chasm.
"Get back!" Kormet shouted, just as the wind returned with a vengeance. It caught Kira broadside, almost knocking her off the ledge with gale force. She would have fallen to her death, if Picard and Damar had not both acted quickly, each grabbing an arm and yanking her back to safety. Even so, the wind was so powerful Picard thought it would tear his arms from their sockets.
Kira plastered herself against the wall, her chest heaving with fright. For a moment, Picard thought she might even have been crying. Then he saw Damar take her hand in his and squeeze it tightly. Soon her breathing eased and her face lost its deathly pallor, and they resumed their cautious creep along the ledge.
* * * * *
The ledge ended before a sheer wall of stone after approximately thirty meters. The wind had died down some, so Picard leaned forward at the waist to study the precipice. Scaling it would be an impossible task, he deduced; any attempt would fail without climbing gear, and they had not brought any. He then looked down at the drop-off only centimeters from his toes. No telling how far down it went, and it looked to have been worn smooth by the rushing wind. As far as he could tell, there was no place to go but back they way they had come.
Kormet, however, had yet another surprise up her sleeve. In the length of time it took Picard to blink, she had disappeared. He blinked again. Where had she gone? Then Damar disappeared with like speed. When Kira sidled forward to where they had been, he saw the fissure between the two perpendicular cliffs, and realized where they were going. After Kira had sucked in her breath, taken one step away from the wall and ducked into the fissure, he quickly followed after her.
Through eons of subterranean seismic activity, the rocky floor had shaped itself into a staircase of sorts. As Picard followed the light of Damar's glowstick down the dank, confining steps, he thought of medieval castles and dungeons. He would not have been surprised to have come across a cell filled with instruments of torture, or debt-ridden prisoners and their entire families in chains. He tried not to imagine what Madred would have made of this place.
As they descended deeper beneath the surface, the air grew warmer and more stifling. Kira was the first to shed her outer garments, then Picard, and finally even the Cardassians found the heat uncomfortable. They stopped often to appease their thirst, but even that did not slow the perspiration from beading on Picard's brow and the back of his neck. Within minutes he was as soaked as he had been at the foot of the waterfall. Just thinking about all that icy cold water made him even more miserable. He longed for a gust of wind to find its way through the fissure and blow across his prickly, sweat-soaked skin.
When first Kormet, then Damar, then Kira, and finally himself and Dorek dropped to their bellies to crawl through a small hole leading to an adjoining chamber, Picard realized why it had grown so unbearably hot. As he wriggled his hips through and climbed to his feet, he saw a river of fast-moving magma less than ten meters away.
"We must hurry," Kormet said, wiping her bare arm across her brow. "The magma is flowing. That means it has found someplace to go."
"You mean the volcano?" Kira asked, her voice rendered a mere gasp by the heat.
"Not just one volcano," Kormet said. "Many volcanoes."
"Are we in one of those volcanoes right now?" Picard asked. The air was so hot it scorched his throat when he opened his mouth to speak.
"Yes," Kormet said. "So we must hurry. Time is running out." She broke into a trot that paralleled the magma river.
Despite his extreme exhaustion, Picard managed to keep pace with her, although his inability to breathe as deeply as he needed made the going even more arduous. Before long he felt light-headed, and slowed, then stopped, to ease the burning in his chest.
Dorek came to his rescue, grasping Picard's elbow and pulling him along. "Come on, Captain," he said. "Just pretend there's an Obsidian Order agent chasing us." Despite the grim imagery of Dorek's exhortation, Picard drew strength from it and renewed his pace.
The trail took a sharp curve to the right, away from the magma. Although Picard still felt as if he were on Q'onoS at the height of summer, the air cooled significantly. They traversed a narrow ledge with a fathomless drop-off on one side, then came to a naturally-formed bridge spanning the chasm. Kormet turned to them then and said, "You must wait here. I will get the book and bring it to you." Then, before anyone could protest, she sprinted across the bridge with a speed and grace that defied her age and disappeared into the opposing wall.
* * * * *
In the absence of anything else to do until Kormet returned -- and not knowing how to return to the surface -- they waited. Kira chose to pass her time by stalking back and forth along the ledge. Dorek lighted three more glowsticks and wedged them into various cracks in the stone façade, then leaned against the wall and watched Kira. Damar sat down on the edge of the precipice, preoccupied with his own internal thoughts and struggles.
Picard sat beside him and took his canteen from his pack. He offered it first to Damar, who refused, then took several long, deep swallows from it. Henceforth he would have to be careful about rationing his water; he had no way of knowing how long they would be down here. Once he had slaked his thirst, he took out the tricorder Data had given him and held it out over the abyss. The device chirped for several seconds before a figure appeared on the screen. Picard sucked in his breath.
"How deep?" Kira asked, pausing momentarily on her circuit.
"You don't want to know," he said. He leaned back to look up. If there was a roof to this cavern, he could not see it. He had traveled far and wide in his career in Starfleet, even as far as the Delta Quadrant, thanks to Q, but not even in the endless expanse of uncharted space had he felt so...small. It was a deeply unsettling and humbling sensation, and one he would be happy to leave behind.
The sound of voices stirred him from his musing, and he sat up straight. Kira stopped her pacing to walk several steps across the bridge. Presently Kormet returned whence she had come, a bundle held tightly in her arms and Q right behind her. Picard was not surprised -- Q had said he would meet them here -- but he would have loved to hear the story of their relationship. He suspected it would be just as full of mutual provocation and confrontation as his own relationship with the entity.
As Kormet approached, Picard saw that the bundle she carried consisted of a scroll wrapped in heavy fabric. Of course, he thought, mentally chastising his presumption, a book that old probably wouldn't be a 'book' in the classic sense. Eager for a closer look at this controversial artifact, he clambered to his feet, as did Damar.
Not surprisingly, Kira reached Kormet before the others did. She laid her hands on the bundle and asked, "Is this it?" Kormet tried to turn away from her, but Kira held on, moving with the old woman. "Is this the Book of the Resurrection?" she asked again.
An ear-splitting crack shook the cavern then, as though a giant had taken hold of the mountain and beaten it with a hammer. The force of the movement threw them all, even Q, to the ground. Rocks tumbled down from high above, and Picard ducked his head under his arms as they battered his body.
Even as the echoes of the quake reverberated throughout the cavern, Picard looked up to see that Kormet had lost her grip on the scroll. It now lay between her and Kira, unguarded and unprotected. Picard leaped to his feet to go after it before Kira could, but Dorek beat him to it, throwing his body over the precious bundle. "I will not let you destroy it!" he shouted at Kira. She swore loudly, in much the same way she had sworn at the giant in the bar, and lunged at him, intent on ripping him to shreds before she did the same to the scroll.
Another report shook the cavern. Before anyone could react, the Prophet's familiar voice thundered, "Give us the book!"
PART SEVEN