19
Chief medical officer’s personal log, stardate 53580.5
Ezri tells me that all of us who were aboard the shuttle are about to go inside the big building we found floating out in space. Once we’re inside, we might be able to find a way to fix what’s wrong with me, and put Dax and Ezri back together.
I ask her whether this means Nog will go back to having to live with one leg. She won’t answer me. I tell her that I don’t see why Nog should have to lose his leg again, that it isn’t fair. Why can’t he stay home, on theDefiant, while Ezri and I go? I can feel my heart thumping fast, and I’m afraid.
Ezri’s trying to hide it, but I can tell that she’s afraid, too. And I want her not to be afraid so much that I pretend very hard that I’m not afraid.
Then I start thinking about Nog’s leg again. I can remember having to cut it off the first time, and the memory quickly makes me feel like crying.
I force myself not to cry because I don’t want her to be afraid. Because there’s nothing worse than being afraid.
Shar made a final check of the readings on his bridge science console, noting yet again that his calculations remained in agreement with those of Nog, Candlewood, T’rb, and the other science and engineering specialists. The complex motions of the icy Oort cloud objects now appeared to be a completely known quantity. The element of random chance had been reduced to as small a margin as possible—excluding, of course, the inevitable, minuscule quantum-level variances and measurement resolution errors that could always arise, causing one transporter relay’s signal to go awry, missing the next relay in the chain and thereby irrecoverably scattering the away team’s matter stream.
But he knew he could do nothing about any of those things. Such risks became irreducible at some level, beyond the ken of either brain or computer.
Shar rose and turned toward Vaughn, who sat in the captain’s chair, an anxious glint in his eye.
“Is everything ready, Mr. ch’Thane?”
Shar hesitated a beat before answering. “Aye, Captain. Chief Chao has confirmed that the first self-replicating transporter relay is already in place and operational on the first Oort cloud body.”
“You don’t sound very confident, Ensign.” Vaughn’s eyes narrowed.
“I’m sorry if I sound equivocal, sir. But as good as the numbers look, we are still operating on the very margins of what is possible. What we are about to attempt may work perfectly, or it may not. We still stand a good ten percent chance of losing everyone in the transporter beam. We have to face that.”
“Ten percent,” Vaughn said, frowning as he stroked his beard. “Versus the certainty of losing them if we don’t move ahead with Nog’s plan.”
Sitting behind the conn station, Tenmei displayed a look of anxiety that clearly mirrored Vaughn’s. Glancing at her chronometer, she said, “If we wait much longer, the cosmic rubber band will snap again and toss them into some other universe. Judging from the hourly increase in the quantum signature flux, it’ll probably be permanent the next time it happens.”
“Obviously,” Shar said through clenched teeth. He was growing weary of having the obvious pointed out to him—or perhaps he was simply growing weary. “But I would still feel more comfortable if we were to beam some inanimate objects in and out of the…cathedral.” He addressed his next words to Vaughn alone. “Beforewe attempt it on living people. Sir.”
“Couldn’t we use the first transporter relay to just replicate the entire series of relays needed to get the away team inside?” Tenmei asked. “That would be a good deal less risky than timing things so that the transporter relays materialize just ahead of the away team’s transporter beam.”
Vaughn looked thoughtful for a long moment, then shook his head. “If the Nyazen were to detect any use of the transporter too close to the cathedral, they’d most likely attack us right away. Then we’d never get a second opportunity to try to beam the away team in.” The commander’s gaze increased to an intensity that reminded Shar of his zhavey.“Give me your scientific appraisal, Ensign. In light of present circumstances, do the risks of proceeding appear acceptable to you?”
Shar knew well that the universe issued no guarantees, other than the eventual certainty of entropy and death. Nor did it care what became of starships, their clever engineers, or their intrepid crews.
Or the lives of three souls, now cast adrift.A trio of faces haunted him even now, weeping, glowering, raging. But these faces weren’t those of Nog, Bashir, or Ezri. They belonged to Dizhei and Anichent.
And Thriss.
“Well, Ensign?” Vaughn said, an edge of impatience in his voice. Shar noticed that every pair of eyes on the bridge was trained on him.
“I can see no alternative, sir,” Shar said. “We should proceed. With your permission, I’d like to assist Chief Chao and Lieutenant Bowers in transporter bay one.”
Nodding, Vaughn said, “Granted.”
As he entered the turbolift, Shar reflected on how little assistance he could actually offer at this point. The beam-out parameters were already set. The die had been cast. The operation would either save his friends or kill them. But at least he would have the opportunity first to bid them all farewell.
A privilege that Thriss had denied him.
Bowers felt his palms grow sweaty as he and Chief Jeannette Chao prepped the transporter console. Three of his colleagues—his friends—would shortly step onto the transporter pads and cast their fates to the whims of matter-stream physics that he didn’t even pretend to understand.
Give me a life-or-death tactical situation involving photon torpedoes overthis any day.
He watched quietly as Shar and an environmental-suited Nog entered the room, carrying between them the artificial-environment tank in which the Dax symbiont floated. Silently, they mounted the transporter platform and placed the bulky container onto one of the pads before stepping back down toward the console. Nog and Shar immediately began double-checking the settings Bowers had just entered, too preoccupied even to exchange greetings with him. Bowers didn’t take it as an insult.
Ezri walked in with Dr. Bashir trudging beside her, both of them already clad in their EV suits, carrying their helmets at their sides. Ezri looked fairly anxious, which was to be expected. But the expression on the doctor’s face gave Bowers pause. Though his eyes were huge and fearful, Bowers thought he could see a bedrock of courage in them as well.
Either he’s made out of some pretty stern stuff, or he’s not smart enough anymore to understand the danger he’s about to step into.Still, Bowers wondered if Ezri was the one drawing emotional strength from Bashir, rather than the reverse.
Suddenly Bowers’s vision was overcome by an intense assault. His eyes blinked furiously, but he could see nothing but white for several seconds. “What the hell was that?”he shouted, his vision slowly returning.
Still blinking through tearing eyes, Bowers could see Chao shaking her head as if to clear it. Shar had his tricorder out and was slowly turning in a semicircle as he scanned. “That appeared to be another quantum effect,” he said, his antennae probing forward. “It was a sudden release of photons from other-dimensional space, caused by the shuttle crew’s rapidly oscillating quantum signatures.”