Vaughn scanned the buildings nearest him. While some had suffered damage—broken glass lay everywhere, and some external structuring had bent and twisted—he saw that none of the buildings had collapsed. Whatever had occurred— a quake,Vaughn still speculated—had clearly taken a toll on the city, but it appeared that only the old tower had been destroyed.
The pops and cracks of debris settling continued beneath Vaughn, and the jumbled hum of many footsteps blew innocuously through the air. Past the small sounds, though, a heavy, unnatural silence draped the scene in a way he found haunting. Because I’ve heard silence like that before,he thought; it had been the sound of death among the living.
Vaughn examined the heap of rubble and began easing himself down from it. He moved along carefully, taking his time not to dislodge any of the loose masonry. A few times, stones fell from the pile as he began to put his weight on them, but he moved slowly and avoided tumbling down after them.
When he reached the ground, Vaughn examined himself. Dirt coated his uniform, which had been slashed open in several places; the right thigh of his trousers hung down from the top of his knee, and his exposed skin had been badly abraded. His hands were cut and bleeding. Half the translator patch had been torn away, and the interface no longer hung at his hip.
Vaughn walked the perimeter of the wreckage, searching for his crewpeople and the two Vahni. A thick dust hung suspended in the still air; Vaughn felt it in his eyes and throat, and he waved a hand before his face as he walked, trying to ward it off. A third of the way around, he spotted the bright-blue Vahni—Brestol, he remembered—leaning over two bodies in Starfleet uniforms. Ashen patches infested Brestol’s body, as though the pigment had been drained from sections of his flesh. He extended his tentacles out to the fallen officers, apparently trying to help them.
Vaughn raced over and crouched on the other side of Roness’s body from Brestol. “Are you all right?” he asked, peering over at the Vahni, then recalled that the translator patch on his chest had been damaged. Brestol looked at him for a moment and did nothing, and then a yellow ring swirled around his midsection. Vaughn gestured, attempting to indicate all of the Vahni’s body. In response, Brestol reached out a tentacle to Vaughn’s head, touching him gingerly above his left eye. A rainbow of colors streamed back along his tentacle. Vaughn lifted his hand and felt his head where Brestol had touched it; his skin was tacky, and his fingers came away reddened by blood. Vaughn shrugged, not expecting the Vahni to understand, and turned his attention to Roness.
The ensign lay on her right side, her arms in tight against her body, her blond hair falling across her face, a purplish bruise on her forehead. Vaughn placed two fingers against her neck. He felt a strong pulse, and he exhaled loudly, unaware until that moment that he had been holding his breath. He moved on his hands and knees a meter or so past Roness to where Bowers lay on his back. Again, Vaughn felt for a pulse and found one, though not as strong as Roness’s. He inspected Bowers’s body for injuries, and found a gash on his left arm bleeding badly.
Seeing that Bowers had lost his combadge, Vaughn turned back to the ensign. He gently moved her arm from across her chest. She stirred as he did so. A spark of sunlight glinted off her chest, and Vaughn reached in and picked her combadge from her uniform. He squeezed the device, and its familiar electronic tones were like music in the horrible quiet.
“Vaughn to Defiant.”He waited a moment, and then tried again. Nothing. He started to consider what alternatives he had if could not contact the ship. If there had been an attack on the planet—
“Commander, this is Dax.”The lieutenant’s voice seemed rushed and serious. “Are you all right?”
“Is the ship?” he asked.
“We were hit by something,”Dax said. “Hard. We don’t know what. Systems are just coming back online.”
“What about the transporter?” Vaughn asked. He heard Dax say something to somebody on the ship before she responded.
“The transporter is up,”she said.
“All right,” Vaughn told her. “I have two injured, one possibly badly. Only I have a combadge, so you’ll have to lock on to the three human lifesigns at these coordinates.”
“Aye, sir.”
Vaughn looked to Brestol and described a circle with his finger to include the three Defiantcrew, then pointed to the sky, trying to indicate that they would be returning to the ship. The Vahni tilted his head back and looked at where Vaughn was pointing. Suddenly, a stark, white whorl spun across Brestol’s torso, and then the terrible pallor seemed to crawl across his flesh. Vaughn lifted his head and followed Brestol’s gaze. He could not believe what he saw.
“Commander, we’re locked on to you,”Dax said through the combadge.
“Energize,” Vaughn said. And as the transporter effect surrounded him, sending bright motes of light across his vision, the last thing he saw was the sky falling.
20
Kira saw the concern on Kasidy’s face: the creases at the top of her nose, the slight downward tilt of her eyebrows, her forceful gaze.
“Is there anything you can do?” Kasidy wanted to know.
“Like what?” Kira asked, more sharply than she had intended. She looked away from the companel to compose herself. Through the glass doors of her office, she saw the crew working in ops. She shifted in her chair and addressed Kasidy again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just…” She hesitated, seeing the difficult truth of the situation. “I’ve tried pretty hard these past few months to live with the Attainder, and most of the time, I do pretty well. But sometimes—” And here lived the truth she hated. “—sometimes it’s still difficult.”
“You don’t have to apologize, Nerys.” Kira saw that Kasidy’s face had become a little rounder since the last time they had spoken. “It sickens me what Yevir and the rest of them did to you. That’s why I wanted to tell you about this. If there’s a problem in the Vedek Assembly, like Prylar Eivos said, they may try to blame you for that too.”
“And they might be right,” Kira said. Kasidy looked shocked at the notion. “I’m not saying that I’m responsible for their actions, but I didpost the Ohalu text on the Bajoran comnet, and I defied a vedek to do it. I did it because I believed it was the right thing to do, and despite being Attainted because of it, I’d do it again.” For the first time, though, Kira wondered if she would; after what Kasidy had told her, the repercussions of her actions might end up being far larger—and far worse—than she had ever anticipated.
“But if they hold you responsible for the division in the Vedek Assembly…” Kasidy’s voice trailed off, and she looked down, obviously troubled. Behind her, Kira could see a window, and beyond it, snow blowing past.
“It’s snowing there,” she said.
Kasidy looked up again. “Yeah, for a couple days now. We’ve gotten a dozen centimeters.”
“A dozen?” Kira said, cheerfully surprised. “Have you been outside?”
“Yes, a few times,” Kasidy said, her mood seeming to lighten a bit. “When the wind dies down, I like to go out for walks. It’s very peaceful and quiet when there’s so much snow on the ground.”
“And very cold,” Kira added with a smile.
“I wear layers,” Kasidy said, and then, pointing to her growing belly, she added, “whether I want to or not.” They both chuckled at that. “You ought to come for a visit.”