Odo wished he had taken an engineering course or something while he had had the chance, because the specs O’Brien had sent him were so confusing they might have been written in Talaxian, and he’d never have noticed. But fortunately, the device was not overly difficult to install in the portable transporter, even though building it had been like pulling teeth, figuratively, of course.
Installing it still consumed a lot of time though. Odo had to rest before finishing it, but was too impatient to remain in his liquid state for more than what was absolutely necessary. The small personal transporter had had to have been disassembled before the device’s circuitry could be integrated into it, and most of the time Odo spent was used rebuilding the transporter.
He was almost finished when he heard the door open.
“Odo, how many times am I going to have to remind you to engage that identilock!” Bashir called, walking into the room. “Odo?”
“What is it, Doctor?” Odo rasped, looking up from his handiwork.
Bashir stared at him for a moment, then regained his wits and stammered, “What are you doing, Odo?”
“Nothing,” replied the shapeshifter, struggling to his feet. Bashir nearly shuddered at the movement, for Odo did not so much rise to his feet as slide his mass up to his usual height. Bashir had seen Odo do that before, but never before had he seen the act so graceless, so disjointed. When he stopped rising, the formation ceased, leaving the Changeling seeming doll-like in the dull light. “What are you here for?”
His voice uncertain, Bashir tried to answer. “I…I just came to see how you were doing.”
Odo wove a half-formed hand in the air nonchalantly. “I’m fine.”
Bashir moved closer. “You don’t look fine, Odo. In fact, it seems to me that you might be sick.”
“I’m fine, Julian,” Odo insisted loudly. His features seemed to shift as he spoke, as if the words sent a rippling effect through his mass. “I just need a little rest.”
“Odo, let me at least have a look at you.” Bashir reached out entreatingly. “I’m probably the only doctor in this quadrant of the galaxy that knows anything about Changeling physiology, so…”
“I said I’m fine!”
Bashir’s pleading hand snapped back as if burned. Odo didn’t seem to notice, or was ignoring, the stunned, hurt expression on the Doctor’s face.
“I am going to have to leave now, Doctor. I have things to do.” Snapping a final component into place, Odo yanked the personal transporter off the ground and tucked it under his arm. “Good bye.”
Feeling he should do something but not having the slightest idea of what that was, Bashir simply watched as Odo stumbled out the door, leaving the sliding door open. A moment later he sighed, the sound loud in the silent rooms, and ran his fingers through his graying hair. It looked as if he was going to have to stay on Bajor a little while longer after all.
(-|-)
The field Odo walked to was not far from Nerys’ and his house. And yet his thoughts took him light years away. He looked around, trying to ward off the memories chasing him relentlessly. He had to get away from here, from this place Nerys had loved. Away from everything and everyone that constantly stabbed him with memories of her. He pushed a button, and the field around him disappeared. He adjusted his eardrums to account for the noise. He looked down a long narrow corridor.
There was a ball lobbing back and forth. He approached the court. He looked to his right once he was out in the open and saw a Klingon trying to match the skill with which his opponent was hitting the ball. His opponent. Odo turned and saw a young man rushing to meet the ball with an almost psychic knowledge. He recognized him immediately and had to keep his jaw from falling to the floor, literally. Doctor Bashir! Only, it wasn’t Doctor here.
“Game. Set. Match,” announced the referee hovering on the edge of the court. The Klingon threw his titanium racket to the ground in disgust, only to end up lying on the clay court a moment later after it rebounded and hit him in the head.
Bashir approached the winner’s diamond. He wiped the seat from his brow, and grinned with a mild aire of satisfaction.
“And now, his Eminence, to present the winner with his prize.”
The Eminence entered from a private side room, his golden robes flowing around him. Vedeks flagged him on each side, dressed in simpler garb so as to amplify the Kai’s magnificence. As the Kai turned to face the majority of the audience, and hence Odo, Odo recognized him. It was a face he could never forget; a face he had last seen from a far distance at the death chant.
Bareil. The name echoed like a bad memory drowning out the Kai’s words.
“…sorry my wife could not be here…”
But if Bareil was Kai, then…Odo’s eyes searched the entourage of Vedeks and found her, Winn. Well, well, well. This is a pleasant surprise. If only Nerys could see… Odo shook his head in sorrow. Would the pain ever diminish? The ceremony was almost over. People would be leaving the stadium soon, and Odo didn’t want to be in the way when they did. He turned around, and left the excitement of the tournament behind him.
(-|-)
Odo entered the heart of the Bajoran capital. It looked the same as his Bajor, the architecture reminiscent of the Greek architecture on Earth. Or rather, the Greek architecture on Earth was reminiscent of the Bajoran architecture. The capital had been the first area rebuilt after the Cardassians had left. It was to serve as a catalyst for Bajor’s recovery, a rallying point. The people had indeed rallied around the capital. It was now, here, as beautiful as if there had never been an Occupation. In fact, as Odo looked around, he could see no signs of the Occupation at all. On his Bajor, there were still signs here and there of the destruction the Cardassians had wrought. Here, it appeared that there had never been an Occupation.
The beauty of the city was not marred by occasional lingering signs of destruction, but instead, by posters announcing today’s tennis tournament. Odo continued on his way to the main embassy of Bajor. It was the custom house of the entire planet, holding the records of every man, woman, and child in Bajor’s history. There he could find out where Nerys lived, if, hopefully, here she lived. He caught his reflection in a pane of glass of one of the various shops and was glad to see that he had been able to form into an average Bajoran male. The years of practice had come in useful once again.
He reached the Embassy around late day. He would have to move quickly if he wanted to find her today. He accessed the first computer terminal he found and went about his search. Actually, it shouldn’t take that long. All he had to do was look up ‘Kira Nerys.’ How hard could that be?
It took him nearly an hour to even get to the menu he needed, another hour for the computer to find Nerys’ name. When the records finally came up, Odo was dismayed. The screen flashed blankly: Kira Nerys. No longer anyone by this name. Odo’s heart sunk. So she had died in this reality too. Quickly, he chided himself. He was losing his investigative edge.
What if she had married? Asking the computer for all information on Kira, Odo waited patiently as the screen displayed a short bio sketch.
Kira Nerys. Not a Major, but if not a Major, then what? Married on July 26, 2360. Ah, so she had married. But there the record ended.
“Computer, husband of person now on this screen.”
The computer answered without hesitation.
“That information is not available through this terminal.”
A voice came over the speakers. “The Embassy will be closed to the general public in five minutes.”
Odo sighed and stretched as he stood from his chair. Perhaps tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the next. He was in no hurry to return, for he had nothing to return for. He had all the time in the world, which ever one that was.
(-|-)
“Captain, incoming transmission. Urgent.”
“On screen.”
“Jadzia, am I glad you’re still around.”
“What is it, Julian?” she asked, her blue eyes intensifying with concern. The tone in his voice had immediately caught her attention.
“It’s Odo. He’s…disappeared.”
“Well, it’s understandable, Julian. The man just lost his wife. He’s bound to want some time alone.”
“No, no, no. That’s not it. He isn’t hiding somewhere, grieving; he’s disappeared, genuinely.”
“You mean, he’s not on Bajor?”
“I haven’t been able to find anyone who’s seen him. He left here this morning with some kind of device. I think it was a portable transporter or something.”
“You don’t think he…you know.”
“Suicide? I doubt it. Odo’s not like that.” There was only a hint of pretension detectable. “But he is taking this very hard. He’s become another person, Jadzia, devoid of any feeling or fluidity of life. It’s like he’s just shut himself off from everything.”
Jadzia looked at her friend, her comrade, her once-fellow officer with kind eyes. She had felt the way he felt now many times. She knew what he needed her to do.
“All right, Julian. Why don’t you come aboard. We’ll find him.”
A smile of gratitude spread across the doctor’s worn face.
(-|-)
Aboard the Galen, the crew was buzzing, conducting every search known. The results were not promising.
“Do you know who was the last person to see him, Julian?”
“Yes. As far as I know, I was.”
“Any idea where he went?”
Julian rubbed his eyes, and then spoke slowly and steadily.
“If I had any idea where he was, I wouldn’t be here.” He showed the length of the bridge with one hand, the other still busy warding off the sleep threatening to consume him.
“Julian, you need rest.”
“Not until we find him.”
“It may take awhile.”
“I can wait,” and then he added, in a voice almost inaudible to Jadzia, “I already failed Nerys once. It won’t happen again.”
Jadzia sighed.
“All right, Julian. Suit yourself.”
Julian nodded seriously but had to keep a grin of success from sneaking across his face.
“Now, who else did Odo last talk to?”
Julian thought about that.
“I’m not sure, but after the reception, the one after the funeral, that’s when he started acting strangely.”
“How?”
“Very…Oh, you mean what was he doing?”
Jadzia nodded. It appeared some of his naiveté was still lurking somewhere within him.
“Well, he wanted to know where the Chief was.”
“O’Brien?”
“Yes. Although I suppose I should stop calling him ‘Chief’ now that he’s a lieutenant. Guess old habits die hard.”
“Well, that’s as good a place to start as any…”
“Not to mention our only place so far.”
Jadzia ignored that remark.
“Lieutenant,” she said to the man standing behind her left shoulder, “Open a chan…On second thought, Conn. Take us out of orbit. Set course for Deep Space Nine, full impulse.”
“Aye, Captain…Course and speed laid in.”
“Engage.” Then she turned to Bashir. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen O’Brien. I hope he won’t mind a little visit.”
(-|-)
Odo cursed himself as he wandered through the mazes of corridors in the main Bajoran Embassy, wishing he had taken better note of the paths he had taken when he had first come in. They would start escorting stragglers to the exit soon, and he didn’t want to have to go through the embarrassment of being shown the doors.
Just when he could feel the suspicious eyes of one of the guards, he spied the exit and hurried out, relieved to have not made a fool of himself. Mentally congratulating himself, he let himself relax-only to run smack into a slender woman before him.
The books and papers she had been carrying flew everywhere. The woman herself tottered on the edge of a step, but managed to catch herself before toppling. Odo felt a sort of cautious relief wash over him. He bent over to retrieve her books, sure that if he truly were humanoid, his face would be burning pink at that moment.
“I’m so sorry, ma’am. I should have watched where I was going.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she assured him, and at her voice, Odo froze.
It can’t be, he thought wildly. Slowly he lifted himself off the ground, her things held tightly in his hand, afraid to raise his head and have his hopes shattered. After an eternity, he lifted his eyes to meet a face as familiar to him as his own.
“After all, no harm done,” she said, smiling.
“Nerys?” he whispered, finding he had no strength to say it any stronger. “Kira Nerys?”
The robust woman laughed quietly, her lovely features amused.
“Oh my, it hasn’t been Kira Nerys for years now. I married eight years ago. It’s Bareil Nerys now.”
(-|-)
“This must be reunion week,” Miles O’Brien said cheerfully, meeting them at the airlock doors. “Just about everyone I’ve ever known has contacted me in the last few days.”
“Hello, Chief.” Bashir winced. “Sorry, Lieutenant.”
“Doesn’t matter what you call me, Julian.” O’Brien smiled. “Half the people around here still call me Chief. I don’t know why, but it’s stuck.” He turned his head. “Hello, Dax.”
Jadzia Dax smiled at him.
“Hello, Miles. How’s Keiko?”
“She’s fine. Bit surprised you stopped here though.” He looked at Bashir quizzically. “Especially you, Julian. I thought you were supposed to be at that Cherry colony by now.”
Bashir opened his mouth, but the words never got the chance to escape his lips.
“Ch’ari colony, Miles,” Dax corrected primly, ignoring the annoyed look Bashir shot her way. “Ch’ari, not Cherry.”
The Irishman shrugged. “Whatever. A fruit is easier to remember. Anyway, Keiko and I would like you to come down to dinner, if you want.” He grinned. “Best replicated lobster in the galaxy.”
Remembering the Cardassian replicators, Dax made a face and shook her head. “Sorry, Miles, but we really don’t have the time. We need to talk to you about something.”
“Sure. What is it?” O’Brien’s face had become graver, realizing this wasn’t a social visit. They began to walk towards the Promenade.
“Chief,” Bashir began carefully, not noticing the incorrect title he used, “by any chance has Odo contacted you in the last few days?”
O’Brien’s face furrowed. “Yeah, as a matter of fact he did. ‘Bout two days ago.”
Dax nodded, glancing at Bashir.
“Can you remember what he called for?”
“Sure.” The lieutenant reflected. “He asked about some transporter device I’d concocted a few years ago. Said he’d taken to transporter mechanics.”
“What kind of device, Chief?”
“Well, you remember that time Sisko was kidnapped and taken to that alternate universe by me-well, the alternate me?”
Bashir shuddered, the memories of that place still chilled him.
“Yes.”
“Well, the way that O’Brien did that was by using some kind of a transporter device that transported matter to and from that universe and ours. The idea of that…well, it intrigued me, and I began to goof around with it. I actually made one that would theoretically work, but it would short out after one round trip. After awhile I just lost interest.” He smiled wryly. “It still bugs me sometimes that the other O’Brien was able to perfect it and I wasn’t. But I guess he was just more desperate than I ever was.”
Bashir knew the truth in that statement.
“Desperate men can do desperate things,” uttered Jadzia Dax.
A frown forming on his normally bright face, O’Brien stared at Dax, then Bashir, seriously. “What’s goin’ on? Has something happened?”
“Yes,” Dax said curtly. “One more thing, Chief. Did you give the technical specs for that device to Odo?”
“Yeah,” he said. “He wanted to study ’em.” They had reached the Promenade. O’Brien stopped worriedly. “Has something happened to Odo?”
“Yes,” Bashir told him. There was no point in denying it any longer. The proof was there. “He’s disappeared.” His look was troubled. “And I think we finally know where he is.”
O’Brien closed his eyes.
“Wh…He didn’t.”
“I think he did,” Dax said grimly.
“But where would he get enough transporter access?” questioned O’Brien.
“He used a portable,” offered Bashir.
“Oh sweet Jesus. Then we have a problem.” When O’Brien finally opened his eyes, an unbearable guilt shone there. He sighed, “And I think I need a drink.”
(-|-)