Articles of the Federation - Keith R. A. DeCandido [142]
“We have such a great opportunity here, Doctor. For the first time ever, we have a chance to bridge the gap between the Federation and the Tzenkethi, to show that our people can work together for the greater good instead of perpetuating the evils of being opposed. But the only way that’s going to happen is if you go back to Starbase 1 and save Zormonk’s life. If you don’t, then we’ve got someone else unjustly placed in a Tzenkethi prison, a dead child, and an enemy that will be more vicious than before, because they’ll have the corpse of the son of a member of the Tzelnira who died under Federation care.”
The president walked back over to the chair and sat down. “Understand something else, Doctor-if you still refuse, then that’ll be the end of it. There’ll be no reprimands, no censure, no blackballing. Chirurgeon P’Trell and I have agreed that you have every reason to hate the Tzenkethi and what they did to you. You can go right back to Starbase 1 and continue your career without any repercussions.”
Rebecca found that impossible to credit. Even if there were no official repercussions, she knew that lines would be drawn. Some would view her as the one who’d refused to save a child’s life. Others-those who’d fought the Tzenkethi or knew those who had-would support her, telling her she’d done the right thing.
This one decision would define the rest of her life.
She thought back to the look of anguish on Raphael’s face when he’d introduced her to the woman he’d married two years after she’d been declared dead. The overwhelming feeling of joy she’d felt when she’d materialized in the Saratoga transporter room. The knife-twist of Daniel and Gustavo’s anger, projecting the bile that only a teenager could muster at a mother who they thought had abandoned them. The horror of watching those six people die so she could perform a pointless operation. The bone-sore agony of her cell, a cold, windowless room where she’d lived between treatments, with only a flat piece of cloth and two buckets for furniture.
Then she thought about Zaarok, whom she’d met more than once in her time as prisoner, who’d referred to her as the “pet doctor,” sitting in a cell just like that one.
The thought gave her immense pleasure.
However, Zaarok, she suspected, would remain in that cell no matter what happened. He had violated Tzenkethi law, and he had consorted with their worst enemy. No, his suffering would be long and hard-and it would be made worse by the knowledge that he’d failed, that his son had died.
And then she thought about Daniel and Gustavo, who hadn’t spoken to her in fifteen years. Yet if she found out they were sick and that only a Tzenkethi doctor could save them, what would she do?
Just what Zaarok had done.
She realized something else as well: If she refused to do this, she was finished as a physician. The president’s assurances notwithstanding, if she let a patient die due to her own negligence, she would have violated the very oath the president tried to guilt her with, and she would no longer be worthy of her medical degree-in her own mind, if in no one else’s.
“All right,” she said in a small voice.
“I’m sorry?” the president said.
Louder, Rebecca said, “I’ll do it. God help me, I’ll-I’ll do it.”
*
Esperanza felt like a black hole had opened up in her stomach. She got off the turbolift on fifteen and walked slowly toward the president’s office door.
Sivak gave her one of his looks. “The meeting has already commenced. President Bacco has expressed surprise at your tardiness, and also instructed me to- “
Ignoring him, Esperanza went into the president’s office. Ashante, Myk, Dogayn, and Z4 were all present, as were Fred, Admiral Akaar, Safranski, and Raisa Shostakova.
“About time you got here, Esperanza,” said the president, who