Vectors (10 page)

"He had one," Rom said. "He forgot it when we left Ferenginar, and I-"

"Didn't have enough latinum to buy him a new one, I know," Quark said. "Believe me, I know."

He shook his head. How did it always end up that he was the one who paid for everything? He sighed.

"Get yourself an earbrush, Nog, but for now, use your Dad's." Then Quark thought of that blister, and all the germs it carried. "Never mind. Don't after all. Get a cleaning cloth. But I still want the bar spit-polished. You understand?" "You want me to spit on it?" Nog asked. ,

"No," Quark said. "It's a military term. I just want it so polished that it shines. Is that clear?"

Nog nodded. Why did everything become an impossible task with these two? Running the bar was suddenly three times harder.

The first group of Cardassians got up and left their tables, mumbling something about sleep. The second group was still huddled over their drinks. He could barely see the third group, but they seemed to be deep in conversation.

Customers leaving and none entering. Things couldn't get any worse.

Quark took a padd. He would inventory his alcohol one last time, and hope it lasted-of course, with this drop in business, it would last easily. He glanced at Rom. "Just go away," he said.

"But brother, I haven't asked the other table if they wanted more to drink." "Ask them, and then go away." "Where are the cleaning cloths, uncle?" Nog asked. Five times more work, Quark thought. At least. Rom walked over to the last table. The drunken Carrdassians at the second table cat-called him in soft tones. Quark didn't pay attention to what they were saying. He told Nog where the cloths were and was about to get back to his inventory when a Cardassian at the third table stood up.

He was green, like so many others had been in the last few days. Quark knew now that that was the beginning of the disease. He had been denying service to anyone who was green, but apparently the Cardassian had changed shades while he was in here.

The Cardassian raised a hand, looked at Rom, and toppled over backwards. His companions didn't seem to notice. Neither did the drunks at the next table.

Quark walked over. The Cardassian was on his back, moaning, a hand on his stomach. The other three at his table had passed out but they, at least, were a normal gray.

"Brother," Rom said. "We need to call for help."

"Oh no we don't," Quark said.

"But, he's-"

Quark put a hand over Rom's mouth. "I'm going to ban you from ever speaking in this place again."

"Bartender?" One of the Cardassians at the other table said. "You got any blood wine?"

"Yes," Quark said, even though what he had probably wasn't any good. He just didn't want the Cardassian looking at him.

"Get me shome," the Cardassian said.

"Nog!" Quark shouted. "Blood wine?"

"What?" Nog asked.

"Blood-oh, never mind." Quark turned to Rom and said very softly, "Stay right here, and cover his face."

"With what?" Rom asked, but by then Quark was already gone. He got the blood wine, and brought it back to the drunks.

"You know," he said to them, "you gentlemen look like you could use a free hour in a holosuite. Why don't you come with me?"

"Free?" Rom asked. "Brother, have you lost your mind?"

"What did I say to you about talking?" Quark snapped. He helped the Cardassians up, and guided them away from the sick Cardassian. He was careful to keep their backs to him, by talking to them the whole way, expounding the virtues of the various programs, hoping that Nog wasn't listening too closely to some of the programs.

He got them up the stairs and into one of the suites, the door closed behind them. Then he came back down the stairs.

The Cardassian's companions had well and truthfully passed out. "What should we do?" Rom asked. "Take his feet," Quark said. "We're carrying him to the medical section?"

"Are you nuts?" Quark asked. "That's what medical people do." "Then why aren't you calling them?"

"Why are you still talking?" Quark asked. "Pick up his feet."

Rom walked to the Cardassian's booted feet. "Can we get this disease?"

"If anyone can, you can," Quark mumbled.

"What?" Rom asked.

"No, we can't," Quark said.

"How do you know?"

"Because we would have had it by now."

"They don't have it," Rom said, looking at the three passed out at the table.

"Ferengi don't get Cardassian diseases," Quark said, although he had no idea if that was true. "Oh," Rom said. "Are you sure?" "Positive."

"All right, then," Rom said, and crouched. He grabbed the Cardassian's feet and lifted them.

"Nog," Quark said. "Keep a lookout. Let me know if you see any Cardassians or Odo."

"Odo?" Nog asked.

"The obnoxious shape-shifter who has been harassing me"-then Quark realized that Odo hadn't been in the bar in almost a week. "Never mind. Just let me know if you see anyone."

"All fight," Nog said, and bent over the bar, continuing his polishing.

"At the door, Nog," Quark said. "Go to the door. Like a lookout."

"Oh," Nog said. "You didn't say that."

"What do I have to do? Put it in writing?"

"That might help," Rom said.

"Shut up."

Nog scrambled to the door. He stood there like a small sentry, looking just like Rom had at that age. Sincere, honest, clueless. Quark sighed. He hoped Nog understood what he was looking for.

"Brother..." Rom said, still holding the Cardassian's feet.

Quark nodded. He picked up the Cardassian by the armpits, and nearly staggered under the weight. Who knew that Cardassians were so heavy? Or that they smelled like this? Up close, the Cardassian's green skin looked even more noxious. His scales were flaking. Quark's stomach, already queasy thanks to Rom's ear blister, threatened to revolt.

"I don't know how much longer my back can take this, brother," Rom said.

Quark didn't know how much longer his stomach could take it either. "All right," he said, "here goes."

He stumbled backward, kicking a chair as he went. The Cardassian's butt dragged on the ground, his uniform leaving a polished streak mark on the dirty floor.

"Everything I do creates more work," Quark mumbled. "What?" Rom said. "Nothing. Just lift him higher." "I can't, brother." "You could if you weren't holding his feet." "What do you suggest?" Rom asked. "His knees?" They were halfway to the door. Quark wanted this guy out of the bar as quickly as possible. If he made Rom switch positions, quickly might not happen.

"No," Quark said. "Let's just keep going."

At that moment he backed into another table. Pain ran along his spine and he bit back a curse. "Are you all right, brother?" Rom asked.

"Fine," Quark said, and moved around the table. Why did he have so much furniture in here in the first place? What had he been thinking?

The strain on his arm muscles was almost too much. He felt sweat run down the side of his face, get caught on his lobe, and work its way into his ear. It was his own fault for thinking the day couldn't get any worse.

He glanced over his shoulder. Nog was still at the door, looking out into the Promenade. Apparently he didn't see anything, or he would have said so. Right?

"Nog," Quark whispered. "Is it clear?"

"What?"

"The Promenade. Is there anyone there?"

Nog took a step farther out, which did nothing to bolster Quark's confidence. Then he turned back to Quark. "Yes."

Quark nodded at Rom. "This is the last leg," Quark said.

"I hope so," Rom said. "Is it my imagination or is he beginning to smell worse?"

It wasn't Rom's imagination. The Cardassian was beginning to smell like a Klingon meal made by a bad cook. Quark moved as fast as he could. He was still looking over his shoulder as he went through the doors. It wasn't that he didn't trust Nog. Or maybe it was.

The Promenade was mostly empty. The doors to the restaurants and stores were open, but there were no clients. The Volian sat in the window of his tailor's shop, working on an outfit, but he didn't appear to be looking up. Quark thought he saw something shimmer near the door to the bar, but when he focused on it, he saw nothing at all.

"Clear," he whispered.

"What?" Rom asked. "Is that blister making you deaf?" Quark snapped. "I hope not." Rom brought a hand to his ear, and the Cardassian tipped sideways. The Cardassian's foot bounced loudly on the floor. Quark nearly collapsed under his weight.

"Will you do your job?" Quark snapped. "Pick up the foot. Pick it up."

"Where are we going with him?"

"Just behind that post," Quark said, nodding in the opposite direction from the Volian's store. They were getting close to the second floor balcony, but he didn't see anyone there either. And he would have to take the risk.

They also couldn't leave a polished streak running from the Cardassian to the interior of the bar. "Wait!" Quark said. "Nog, grab the Cardassian." "Me?" "Do you see anyone else named Nog?"

Nog came over, rubbing his hands together. His small face was squinched in an expression of disgust. "Where do you want me to hold him?"

"Where do you think?" Quark asked. "He can't be touching the ground."

Nog gave him the most pitiful expression Quark had ever seen. "I can't."

"You will or I'll make you clean the bar with your head skirt every day this week." "You can't do that!" Nog said. "It isn't sanitary." "Then I'll make you sanitize it after you're done."

"Don't underestimate him, son," Rom said. "Remember the drinks." And he reached for his ear.

"No!" Quark said too late. The foot bounced again, but this time Nog had grabbed the Cardassian's midsection.

"I want to go back to Ferenginar," Nog said. "Maybe I can live with Moogie."

Rom struggled to reach the foot without dropping the other one. Quark thought his arms would break.

"Moogie wouldn't treat me like this."

"Moogie would hide you in a closet," Quark said. "She has dreams of finding a better mate, and the last thing she needs is a grandson hanging around so that people know her age."

Rom got the foot. He nodded. "I promise I won't drop it again."

"Good," Quark said. "Or Narat will think broken ankles are part of this disease."

"You think I broke his ankle?" Rom said. "I didn't mean to. I mean-"

"No, I don't think you broke his ankle," Quark said. "But I might break yours soon."

They carried the Cardassian into the Promenade. Their footsteps echoed on the floor. Quark had never heard the Promenade echo before.

It was only a few meters to the post Quark had seen, but it felt like they had to travel light-years. When they reached it, and Quark gave the okay, all three dropped him at the same time. It sounded as if something exploded on the Promenade.

"Come on!" Quark said and ran for the bar.

"But, brother, what about the medical staff?" Rom was keeping up with him. So was Nog.

"You call them," Quark said. "But you will not mention the bar, got that? Tell them-oh, never mind. I'll do it."

They got inside and Quark slipped behind the bar. Before he contacted anyone, he was going to wash his hands. They felt sticky with sweat, and something else. Germs, probably. Virus. Possible infection.

He grimaced. He had a hunch things were going to continue to get worse. Much, much worse. And he doubted they would ever get better again.

Chapter Eleven THE CARDASSIAN CREW piloting the freighter didn't mix with its passengers. Pulaski, Governo, Marvig, and Ogawa were confined to a small area that had once served as the crew's mess. The tables were bolted to the floor. The walls were a gunmetal gray, undecorated, and the room smelled of stale food Pulaski couldn't identify. There were no portholes, so she couldn't see the stars, but the freighter ran relatively smoothly, so she also couldn't feel the hum of the engines. It felt as if she were in a room on Cardassia Prime instead of in a freighter heading toward Terok Nor.

Her team was already working. Governo was bent over his research padd, reading about infectious diseases. Marrvig was studying Cardassian physiology,. Ogawa was supposed to be looking in the files to see if there was any previous history of cross-contamination between these two species, but she wasn't. She was staring at the walls, much as Pulaski was doing.

Alyssa Ogawa was slender, with dark hair and dark eyes, as human as the rest of them. Pulaski hadn't planned on putting together a completely human team, but Starfleet Medical thought it for the best. The less the Cardassians had to object to-and they would probably object to every species that arrived on Terok Nor-the better.

Pulaski was glad to have Ogawa for several reasons. The first and most important was that they had worked well together on the Enterprise. The second was that Ogawa was familiar with Bajoran physiology. The third was that she was the best nurse Pulaski had served with in her entire time in Starfleet.

Ogawa was also fairly level emotionally, and Pulaski would need that. Kellec wasn't, and even though Pulaski usually was, one of the things that had caused their marriage to dissolve was that Kellec could pull her into his moods. Ogawa would help Pulaski keep her own sense of self. She wasn't sure about the other two; since she had never worked with them before, she didn't know if they would be calm or highly volatile. Nothing in their personnel histories suggested any problems along those lines, so the best Pulaski could do was hope.

The group had managed the trip well so far. Captain Picard had strained the Enterprise's engines getting her to the border of Cardassian space within sixteen hours of Pulaski's appointment. He would continue to patrol the area, waiting for her signal, for the next two weeks. If she didn't come out by then, another starship would take its place. The area would be patrolled indefinitely-or so Pulaski had been told. She doubted that Starfleet would continue to expend such resources for four officers, albeit good and valuable ones, much longer than a month. She had mentioned that to Captain Picard and he had looked away from her ever so briefly, as he had done when he told her that Beverly Crusher was returning to the Enterprise.