Star Trek: ALL - Seven Deadly Sins Page 27

  The shuttle drew toward the docking clamps, and in a moment the Siskos were able to disembark. A stocky Cardassian man with a wide-eyed, contemptuous expression appeared, presumably to escort them to the Intendant. The man did not speak to them, did not so much as grunt at them, apparently not feeling that they were worthy of introductions.

  Benjamin glanced at his wife as they followed, and recognized a hint of fear in her eyes. In an instant, he regretted the long silence that had endured throughout their journey here. Benjamin was accustomed to dealing with Alliance people that he did not know, but Jennifer was not, and this experience must make her feel very uneasy. He at least should have had the courtesy to try and comfort her, prior to their landing. His marriage might be shaky, but he still cared for this woman. He tried to smile reassuringly, but she was not looking at him, and the gesture went unnoticed.

  Their surly escort brought them to a large, ornate door and pressed a panel off to the side. Benjamin could hear a woman’s voice that he recognized as the lazy contralto of Kira Nerys, the Bajoran Intendant of Terok Nor. “Come in, Garak.”

  Sisko was surprised when the door slid open to reveal that the comely Bajoran woman was seated at a long dining table, which sagged under the weight of all the food laid upon it. Surely this feast was meant for at least two dozen people? But there were only three place settings, and he realized that one of them was meant for him.

  “Well, don’t just stand there,” the Intendant said, raising one of her slender, white arms in a sweeping gesture. She was hardly dressed to discuss business, clad as she was in a long, body-hugging gown of violet satin that clashed with the brightness of her auburn hair and the blood red of her lips. She was not so much sitting in her chair as she was draped over it, her movements slow and provocative. “Sit down, please. You’re right on time.” Her eyes smoldered, and every word she uttered seemed to have a hidden subtext. “I like punctuality.” She glared at the Cardassian as she said it, and the man bristled before taking a step backward. Sisko sensed that a long feud had brewed between these two, and he hoped he would not be put in a position to get tangled up in any of it.

  “That’s right, Garak,” Kira went on. “You’re not needed here. Dismissed.”

  Sisko almost sat down before remembering to pull out a chair for his wife. He gave her a small nod, and he saw a hint of gratitude in her eyes before she sat down. A tiny gesture could go a long way in a hostile environment, even between two people whose relationship had come to be as strained as that of the Siskos.

  “So,” the Intendant began. She gestured to a Klingon servant who had been looming in the shadows, almost unnoticed. He stepped forward to fill her cup with a flagon of spring wine. “Jennifer Devitt.”

  “It’s Jennifer Sisko,” Jennifer said in a low voice, and Benjamin tensed.

  The Intendant paused for a dangerous moment, and then she laughed. But her laughter was brittle, the fluidity of her movements suddenly appearing stilted. “Yes, of course it is, my dear. Jennifer Sisko. Devitt is your father’s name.”

  “Yes,” Jennifer said, and began to help herself to some Bajoran moba fruit that was artfully arranged on a platter in front of her. “Sisko is my husband’s name.”

  Kira cut her eyes at Benjamin, who wished to be left out of the discussion, but she thankfully did not address him, replying to Jennifer. “Your father … is a most remarkable man. For a Terran.”

  Jennifer cleared her throat. “He is a remarkable man,” she agreed.

  “It’s my understanding that the men in your family were smart enough to see which way the wind was blowing when the Alliance came into power,” Kira said. “There weren’t many who had that much foresight. Most Terrans actually thought they had a chance to defend themselves.” Kira appeared thoughtful. “Your father’s father was like a Bajoran that way,” she said. “He understood that there is a time to fight, and there is a time to cooperate.”

  Jennifer nodded without saying anything.

  “I imagine, Jennifer, that you understand that as well as your father and grandfather did.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Good,” purred the Intendant, and then, to Benjamin, “What’s the matter, Benjamin? Aren’t you hungry?”

  Benjamin was, but he shrugged. “Not especially.”

  “Well, at least try the veklava. Don’t you like Bajoran food?”

  Benjamin hadn’t had much Bajoran food, but he didn’t feel like offering an explanation. “I like it well enough.” He helped himself to some food, avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room.

  Kira turned back to Jennifer. “Tell me. Do you … enjoy the work you do for Akiem?” she asked, seeming somehow to know the answer already. Jennifer oversaw the tech support for the Cardassian-run company where her father had been employed since he was a young man, a group that bought out debt from various industrial interests who didn’t have the resources necessary to strong-arm their outstanding liabilities into payment. Benjamin was also employed by Akiem, and his “clients” were mostly Terrans.

  Jennifer shrugged, but Benjamin saw a little crease form at the corner of her mouth. The Intendant had hit a nerve. Jennifer was capable of doing so much more than routine computer checks and security sweeps, but she was a Terran, and her potential was not likely ever to be fully realized, despite her father’s unusually prestigious position. “It’s not demanding work,” Jennifer said.

  Kira’s voice was still friendly, but there was an edge to it that did not go unnoticed. “I didn’t ask if it was demanding, I asked if you enjoyed it.”

  Jennifer hesitated. “I wouldn’t mind … more of a challenge,” she admitted.

  Kira’s smile widened, became more genuine. “I thought so,” she said. She took a long drink from her cup, signaled for her Klingon assistant to bring more, and spoke again. “I might be able to offer you something better,” she said, “but it depends on several factors.”

  Jennifer waited for a moment before responding. “Such as?”

  Kira shrugged playfully. “Oh, this and that. There are a few particulars to work out. And, of course, there is your father to consider. He might prefer that you not go to work for me.”

  Jennifer seemed to struggle for the correct response. “He … I don’t see how it would make a difference,” she finally said.

  “Well, of course it wouldn’t, if I wanted you badly enough.” Kira laughed. “But I thought it would at least be polite to mention it.”

  “I see,” Jennifer said stiffly.

  “I consider myself a courteous person, among other things.” The Intendant drained her cup again, but instead of continuing, she turned her attention to Benjamin.

  “Benjamin Sisko,” she said, lacing her fingers together and resting her chin on her hands. “I confess, I knew so little about you when I called your wife here to the station. But I did a little checking, and I was rather impressed by what I found.”

  Benjamin, whose mouth was full of food, stopped chewing, and swallowed with some difficulty. “What … did you find?”

  “Well, it seems you were something of a nobody before you met your wife here.” Kira nodded at Jennifer. “Going from place to place, working wherever you could, mostly keeping your head down. You must have really made an impression on Jennifer. She’s quite a powerful woman for a Terran, not to mention beautiful. Tell me, Benjamin.” Kira unlaced her fingers and shifted her weight so that she was leaning toward him, the white curve of her shoulder thrust forward so that he could get a good look at the plunging neckline of her gown. Her voice grew husky, and she batted her long eyelashes at him. “How did you do it?”

  Sisko was dumbfounded. He did not even have to look at Jennifer to sense her dismay, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. “I … you’ll have to ask her that,” he said. The truth was, he had often wondered the same thing himself.

  Kira offered Jennifer a cursory glance, but her attention remained focused on Benjamin, and she did not respond to his suggestion. “So
me Terrans would have difficulty adapting to a position like yours,” Kira said. “But your record indicates that you’ve managed to collect over ninety-eight percent of your clients’ debt. Of those who could not pay, you were very swift in meting out an appropriate punishment. That’s impressive, Benjamin. I have Cardassians on my staff whose efficiency records pale in comparison to yours.”

  Sisko’s face felt cool, as though the blood was draining away. Could the Intendant possibly know that much of his “success” was false? It wasn’t that Sisko was especially soft-hearted; it was mostly that he knew there was no way to get juice from a stone. His only recourse, besides sanctioning the death of hundreds of Terrans, was to skew the accounting data in his own favor, and he was lucky enough to know a particularly number-savvy Trill with the right access codes who was willing to cook the books for him. Not even Jennifer knew what he’d been up to. He met Kira’s gaze, searching her eyes for signs that she knew, but her smile revealed nothing. “I don’t believe in doing anything halfway,” he said finally.

  “I’d bet not,” Kira said, her voice even huskier than before. The blood suddenly rushed back to Ben’s face again, and he felt thankful that his complexion was dark enough to conceal any outward sign of embarrassment. He could hear by Jennifer’s breathing that she was not pleased, but thankfully she said nothing.

  “I have found that Terrans are very well-suited to certain lines of work,” Kira went on, her tone shifting back to the more personable, businesslike quality she had been using before. “It’s possible that I could find a desirable place for you in my fleet. Very desirable, for a Terran.”

  “In your … fleet?” Sisko repeated. The implication was almost unthinkable, but surely Sisko had misunderstood . . .

  “Certainly. You’d be outfitted with a ship, your own crew … that sort of thing.” Kira smiled brilliantly. “But I’d have to make some adjustments first.”

  Benjamin could feel Jennifer’s cold gaze. Though he could barely see her in his peripheral vision, he didn’t have to be looking at her to know what she was thinking. “I … I couldn’t . . .” he stammered, “I … I work for Jennifer’s father. It’s … family business. It’s . . .”

  “Oh, of course I understand your wanting to be loyal to your father-in-law,” the Intendant interrupted. “Suppose I talk it over with him?”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Benjamin said gruffly, instantly regretting his answer. Who was he to tell the Intendant of Terok Nor that her idea was not a good one?

  There was a short silence during which the Intendant only looked at him with a small, disquieting smile playing about her mouth. “Well,” she said softly. “As you wish. But maybe just think about it before you give me a definitive answer. Meanwhile”—she turned her attention back to Jennifer—“it was so lovely to meet you in person, to get to know you a little better.” Her gaze flickered between Sisko and his wife. “I have a feeling this will turn out to be a very profitable meeting for all of us.”

  It seemed like a very long time before Jennifer and Benjamin finally left the station. Neither of them ate or drank much, and the Intendant scolded them for letting so much food go to waste, though Benjamin couldn’t imagine how she expected three people to make even a slight dent in all the food that had been prepared. When they rose to leave, Kira ordered her servants to discard it all, knowing full well that the Terrans in ore processing likely had not seen that much food in one place in all their lives.

  As they rode in the little shuttle back to the tiny, manufactured planet where their living quarters were located, Benjamin at first thought the ride would be as devoid of conversation as the trip to Terok Nor had been. He considered the Intendant’s offer for a time, imagining what it might be like if he were the one giving orders, instead of taking them. What it might be like to have his own ship, instead of being confined to the company’s shuttles, having to track every single move he made, never able to be gone for even a moment longer than he had signed out for without having to face a barrage of questions from his father-in-law. But there was no use thinking about it. If he went to work for Kira Nerys, Jennifer would be furious. There wasn’t much question as to what sort of “duties” he would be required to perform.

  After a strained silence of about a quarter of an hour, Jennifer suddenly began speaking, her words tumbling out so quickly, she nearly seemed to choke on them.

  “Wouldn’t that be lovely?” she snapped. “Benjamin Sisko, working for the Intendant of Terok Nor. Oh, that would be a plum job for you, wouldn’t it, Benjamin?” She took a hard breath.

  “I don’t want to go to work for her,” he said softly.

  “Oh, of course you don’t. No, why would you? Your own ship—your own crew? The ability to travel between systems, whenever you wanted? Isn’t that exactly what you always hoped my father could give you? And then, on top of all of that, you’d have the fringe benefits that only Kira Nerys would be sure to provide, you’d have—”

  “Stop it, Jennifer, I don’t want to go to work for her. I’m perfectly content where I am. Perfectly lucky to be where I am.” He tried a laugh. “How could I, a Terran man, possibly hope for any better than what I’ve already got? A beautiful—”

  “Don’t even try it,” she interrupted. “We both know why you married me, and it’s got nothing to do with my looks.”

  Sisko struggled with his reply. It would do no good to deny it, he already knew that much. He had tried to take it back, what he had said before, but Jennifer would have none of it. She was not the sort of person to just accept an apology and move on; she held grudges forever. “I married you because I loved you,” he said.

  “You loved me?” Jennifer said angrily.

  “I love you,” he quickly amended, but he knew it was too late.

  Jennifer turned away from him, and there was a thankful quiet for a few moments before she began again. “I was so stupid,” she said bitterly. “My father tried to warn me. I thought … I thought . . .”

  “If I didn’t love you, Jennifer, I would have left you by now, wouldn’t I?”

  “Except that there’s never been anywhere for you to go. Until now.”

  She was testing him. Daring him, practically, to go to work for Kira. If he accepted the Intendant’s offer, Jennifer would be proven right. It would be all the evidence she’d need to assure herself that he had never really loved her, was only using her to gain influence within her father’s company.

  Sisko’s head sank into his chest. His neck and shoulders felt too weak to support the weight of his skull. “Anyway, if she wants either of us to work for her, then there’s probably nothing we can do about it.”

  “That would be a convenient excuse for you, wouldn’t it?”

  “Am I wrong?” he snapped.

  “My father could probably protect us,” she said. “He won’t want me to work for her, and if I ask him to help you, too, I know that he will do everything he can to keep you from having to live on Terok Nor.”

  Sisko was not so sure, but he didn’t say so. Still, Jennifer knew right away what he was thinking.

  “I know you don’t think my father has any influence, Benjamin, but you’re wrong.”

  Still, he didn’t answer, and his silence seemed to infuriate her.

  “Yes, I know you were disappointed when it first occurred to you that my father was not as powerful as you originally thought he was. But he has more clout with the Alliance than you understand. It’s just that he has to be careful. He is a man who learned, a long time ago, what you can and can’t say around Cardassians and Klingons. He knows how to tell them what they want to hear. But he can’t just give you everything you want overnight. That kind of prestige doesn’t come easily, you have to earn it. You have to wait. You have to be patient.”

  “I have been patient,” he said, and then instantly regretted having spoken.

  “Twelve years is too long for you to have to endure being married to me?” she said. “Is that it? Was it such a
high price to pay, then, for what little bit of freedom you enjoy now?”

  Her words felt like needles in Sisko’s chest, but he was too weary to even contradict her anymore. He was tired of this conversation, and he knew Jennifer was, too, but maybe it gave her some small amount of catharsis to repeat it again. He hoped so, anyway—that it was somehow worth it for one of them.

  The shuttle was coming up on their little terraformed world, a moon of Trivas called Zismer that had been transformed into a habitat for second-rate employees at Akiem a generation and a half ago. It was not a particularly elegant place to live, but it was exponentially better than most Terrans could ever expect. It was mostly Trill who lived here, Trill, Terrans, Farians, and a handful of folk from other neutral worlds, people who had been smart enough or lucky enough to cast their lots with the Alliance back when it still counted for something.

  The shuttle came to rest at the docking port, but Sisko didn’t get out right away. He didn’t look up as he spoke. “I told Janel I’d meet him—” he began, but Jennifer cut him off.

  “Of course,” she said bitterly. “By all means, go and see Janel Tigan at the tavern. I could hardly expect you to want to spend your evening with me.” She left Sisko in the shuttle without another word.

  Sisko disembarked from the craft after Jennifer was gone. The shuttle did not belong to him, and he did not have the access codes to program a destination; now that it had landed, it was as good as useless to him. Some Alliance officiates in the Intendant’s employ had arranged for Benjamin and Jennifer to use it for this jaunt. It was virtually unheard-of for Benjamin to find a non-work-related occasion for which he would travel in a shuttle, and never in one that had taken him outside the Trivas system.

  Benjamin made his way across the surface of the cramped world, looking around at the now dated-seeming architecture. It was designed in a style that had looked modern and sleek when it was new, but everything was inexpensive and trendy enough that it had begun to appear outmoded within just a few years of construction. Retaining walls were cracked and crumbling, walkways shifting under the roots of the fast-growing trees that had been planted but never maintained. The buildings all seemed to sag, the bright colors applied to the adobe walls now faded by the unfiltered light of Trivas’s peculiarly long summer days.