The Mist (21 page)

"I will gladly relay that message," I said.

Ell-Lee bowed its head slightly. "And now, I must be, in the eyes of your culture, rude. But we have discussed it and we see no choice."

I braced myself. This was the reason they had brought us back. Things never were as they seemed with the Mist.

"Please tell your governments," Ell-Lee said, "that any attempt to contact us, or transfer into Mist space, will be stopped at once. We have chosen isolation, and we prefer it. We will not be disturbed."

It was a clear warning. It was probably directed at me, and at my people, since we had gotten a hold of Mist technology and had a chance to study it before giving it back. The possibility existed that we could reproduce it.

"Do you think so?" Sotugh asked, suddenly interested.

Sisko did not answer him directly. But he looked at Sotugh as he said, "I told Ell-Lee that I would relay its warning. I did so at once to Gowron and now I have again."

Sotugh scowled and sat back.

"Good," Ell-Lee said, again smiling. "I am glad we are clear."

"Very clear," I said.

"Again, Captain," Ell-Lee said, "for all the Mist people, I apologize to you and your Federation. And to the Klingon Empire."

"We accept your apology," I said.

Ell-Lee lowered his hands and said, "Thank you."

And the screen returned to Jackson.

"I guess the council won't get caught like that again," he said with a sheepish grin.

"I hope not," I said, and then I smiled to take the sting out of my words. In truth, though, I did not want to come to Mist space again.

"Good luck, Captain," Jackson said. "And please accept a personal thank-you from me."

With that the screen cut back to showing the station.

A white line appeared in space and expanded, forming a cloud of mist that covered the Defiant for one last time.

A moment later we were again back in normal space.

Twenty-one

"EXCELLENT STORY," The Quilli said. It clapped its paws together. "my congratulations."

"Uh-oh, here it comes," the Trill said.

"What?" the middle-aged woman at the bar asked. "It was a good story."

Sisko smiled. "I really do not think I have time for another story"

"We'll discuss that in a moment," the Quilli said. It jumped off its chair, landing on all four feet, its bristles sticking straight up. Then it gripped the leg of the chair, and pulled itself upright. It waddled toward Sisko

Sotugh stood. "Warthog, you and I have unfinished business."

The Quilli stopped waddling, and looked up at the Klingon. It had to look up so high that the weight of its head almost tipped it over backward.

"You and I have settled our business," the Quilli said. "Your business is with that Trill. He lied to you. My bristles aren't poisonous."

"Is this true?" Sotugh bellowed.

Several patrons shrugged and looked away.

"Oh, dear," Prrghh said. "You've insulted the vaunted Klingon honor."

"Trill," Sotugh said. "You and I must settle this now."

The Trill stood. "I'd love to," he said. "But we can't fight in here, and I doubt we can fight out there. I suspect we entered in completely different places."

Sisko frowned at that, not completely understanding it.

"Another time, then," Sotugh said. He grabbed his mug of bloodwine, finished it, wiped the back of his mouth with his hand, and then shook the wet hand at the Quilli.

Blood wine draped its bristles. It narrowed its eyes; several bristles extended and then receded. "I suppose you owed me that," it said.

"That's enough," Cap said.

Sotugh ignored him.

"Sisko," Sotugh said, turning to him. "You are a fine storyteller, but if you ever trick me in battle again, we shall settle the matter in a purely Klingon manner."

"It would be my pleasure," Sisko said. He picked up his Jibetian ale, and then paused. "Sotugh?"

"Yes?" Sotugh said.

"The same goes if you ever trick me. Do we have an understanding?"

"I think so," Sotugh said. "Until the next battle."

"Until then," Sisko said.

Sotugh nodded toward Cap and headed out the door. The gecko he had displaced climbed back onto the now-empty chair. The Quilli waited until he was gone before proceeding.

When it reached Sisko's feet, it stopped. "As I said," the Quilli said, "a fine story."

It extended a paw. After looking at it for a moment to see if it had any bristles (it didn't), Sisko took it. It was too tiny to shake, but that didn't matter. Apparently the Quilli wasn't going for a handshake. It wanted leverage.

It pulled Sisko's hand as it climbed up his leg, over his lap, and onto the tabletop.

"There," it said, its soft breath hitting his face. The creature smelled like cinnamon. "I have a business proposition for you."

"You've got to be kidding," the Trill said.

The Quilli straightened. "I don't steal my material."

"Then you're the first Quilli I've met who doesn't," the Trill said.

"Theft is not allowed in the Captain's Table," Cap said. "It's grounds for permanent expulsion. Captain Zzthwthwp knows that."

"Indeed I do, as do all Quilli captains," the Quilli said. "And so," it said, looking at Sisko, "because I am an honorable Quilli, and because that is such a fine story, and because I know it will have a great audience among my people, I am prepared to pay you twenty thousand zwltys for your tale."

The Trill stood. "Quilli make a minimum of ten thousand zwltys for every performance they give of a good story. I think you're underpaying the captain."

The Quilli smiled. "You didn't let me finish. Twenty thousand zwltys up front, against a ten-percent cut of the total sum of all the fees paid on the story's performance."

"Paid biannually," the Trill said. "And you could probably give him more than ten percent."

"There are costs involved," the Quilli said. "Rental of performance space, advertising"

"Paid biannually at least," the Trill said.

"You didn't let me finish," the Quilli said. "Ten percent paid biannually, the first installment to come in the month of Shedding."

"What's that?" Sisko asked Cap, trying to hide his amusement.

"I believe, in Earth terms, it would be called October."

"Do we have a deal?" the Quilli asked.

This time, Sisko did let himself grin. Then he shook his head.

"He doesn't know how much a zwlty is," the wraith said. "Can you do the conversion for him, Cap?"

Sisko held up a hand to stop Cap's answer. "Unfortunately," Sisko said, "I cannot accept any monetary payment for my story. My people frown on that sort of thing."

"But I will retell this story!" the Quilli said. "It's lodged in my brain!" It looked at Cap. "I thought I could pay for it."

"It looks like it would be theft," Cap said. "Guess you'll have to purge that one."

"It's too good to purge," the Quilli said.

"I do have a solution," Sisko said.

The Quilli frowned and sat down, rather like a spoiled child who wasn't getting its way.

"There is an orphanage on Bajor that I have sponsored. It is always in need of supplies and goods. If you would use my fee to provide for that"

"I'm afraid that's not possible," the Trill said. "Captain Zzthwthwp has never been near Bajor, and probably will not be."

Sisko frowned. "But I"

Cap held up his hand. "It's a long story, Captain. I will explain it to you later. But let's settle this first. If you and Zzthwthwp trust me, I will be the broker between you. I will make certain supplies and goods get to your orphanage in the correct time and place."

"That sounds fine to me," Sisko said.

"Me, too," the Quilli said. "So we have a deal?"

"How do you know he'll pay, though?" the wraith asked.

"That's where I come in," the Trill said. "Right, Zzthwthwp?"

The Quilli frowned. "You take all the fun out of everything."

"So you're a Quilli monitor?" the middle-aged man at the bar asked.

"Someone has to do it," the Trill said. "And I happen to like good stories well told. I'll keep track of the performances and make sure that this little Quilli translates your ten percent into the proper number of supplies for your orphans."

"What's your cut?" the middle-aged man at the bar asked.

"I'll take one additional percent of the Quilli's profits."

"Hey!" the Quilli said.

The Trill crossed his arms. "It's either that or you don't get your story."

The Quilli rested its chin on its paws. "I hate it when you do that."

Sisko's grin widened. "It's a deal, then," he said. "You're welcome to the story, my friend."

The Quilli brightened. "I'll tell it exactly as you did," he said.

"Interruptions and all," the Trill mumbled.

Sisko took a final sip of his Jibetian ale. He was tired a good tired and he knew he'd better leave before the Quilli asked for another story.

"You're going?" Prrghh asked.

Sisko nodded. "I am on a short leave. I have to get back to Deep Space Nine soon, and I seem to have lost all track of time."

"Not surprising," Cap said, smiling. "You're welcome to come again, Benjamin Sisko."

"Oh, I will," Sisko said. "You make the best jambalaya I've had outside of New Orleans on Earth aside from my own, that is." He extended a hand. Cap took it, and they shook.

"I will tend to your orphans," he said softly.

Sisko nodded. He believed Cap. He wasn't sure why, but he did. "I appreciate it," Sisko said.

As he wound his way around the chairs, other patrons clapped his hand, or smiled at him. As he passed the lizardlike humanoid near the piano, the creature raised its head and blinked ever so slowly at him.

Sisko felt a surge of appreciation. Or that's what it seemed like. That seemed to be the creature's way of telling him that he liked the story.

Sisko turned past the piano toward the tiny entrance. As he did, a woman entered. She looked harried, her short hair mussed. She was shorter than he was, but moved with an air of command. She looked familiar very familiar.

Clearly her eyes hadn't adjusted and she walked past him toward the bar without noticing him.

He was already in the short hallway, with his hand on the door, before a thought registered.

As quickly as it did, he shook it away. It couldn't be. She had vanished years ago in the Badlands. No one had heard from her since.

If she were on Bajor, he would know it.

Besides, as long as he had known her, she had worn her hair long.

They said that everyone had a double somewhere in the universe. He must have just seen hers.

He shook his head, and pushed the door open, stepping into the heat of Bajoran twilight. How many Jibetian ales had he had? He didn't know, and he really didn't care. For the first time in a long time, he had relaxed.

Bashir had been right. A few days of R&R were good. Now Sisko could return to his cabin and get a good night's sleep. He would tell Bashir when he returned

Or maybe he wouldn't. No sense letting that doctor get too cocky. Bashir might try to pull something like this again sometime.

Sisko grinned and walked down the sidewalk, feeling better than he had in weeks.

Inside the Captain's Table, just moments after Sisko had walked toward the entrance, the Quilli jumped onto his chair. "You could have made him stay," the Quilli said to Cap. "I'll wager he had a dozen good stories in him."

"One was enough," Cap said. "In fact, you probably should refine it before you forget it. You have orphans to think of."

The Quilli frowned, jumped off the chair, and leaped onto the Klingon. The sound of their battle filled the bar, but most patrons simply ignored them, although some jumped in with glee.

A couple started down the stairs in the back. The woman was Klingon and the regulars recognized her as Hompaq. She had her arm entwined with that of a human male. He was shorter than she was, but seemed to measure up to her in presence. His dark brown eyes were made for laughter, and he had an infectious grin that made his charisma clear.

"You didn't tell me that story," she said as she led him down the stairs.

"There's not much to tell," he said.

"But to permanently capture Jem'Hadar," Hompaq said. "That's quite a risk."

"Not for us," the man said.

"I thought you weren't ever going to get involved over here in normal space again," she said.

His infectious grin widened. "We had a favor to repay," he said. "Besides, as we all know, sometimes wars are won in the details."