Distant Shores - Marco Palmieri [58]
Davey said, “They wouldn’t have if they weren’t able to. It’s possible that they got sent very far away.”
Mark looked at Davey with a certain amount of distress. It had been months since Mark had last seen him, and it looked like Davey hadn’t eaten since then. Already pale, he now looked almost as white as a Borg drone. He hadn’t shaved in a few days, and Mark feared he would have been able to make out his rib cage in detail if he took his shirt off, he was so skinny. “What do you mean?”
Taking a quick drink of his Altair water, Davey said, “There’s this monograph that a Cardassian scientist published about tetryons that they could be used for an intergalactic transporter. You just need to provide the right power source. Now the Badlands, they’d make a great power source, and that would also explain why the storms were so weak in that area during that time-if someone built that intergalactic transporter and designed it to draw power from the area around it, then it could be used to send ships to another galaxy!”
The room was quiet for a moment. Finally, Mark said slowly, “Uh, Davey-don’t you think that’s a little far-fetched?”
“Honestly, I thought so at first, but if you think about it, it fits. It explains the tetryons, the low-energy storms, why there was no debris-and why we haven’t heard from them.”
Gres shook his head. “I hope you are right, my friend.”
“That’s all well and good,” Abhaya said, “but what if you’re wrong? What if they really were destroyed, and we’ve been hanging on like idiots for two years?”
“I don’t think it’s that idiotic to think that my father’s still alive,” Davey said tersely.
“I agree with Mr. Honigsberg,” T’Pel said. “I believe that my husband is alive. Many times over the years he has gone on difficult missions and he has always returned to me. I choose to have faith in his ability to do so again. It is not logical-but the feeling remains, and it would be the height of illogic to deny its existence.”
Smiling wanly, Gres raised his glass and said, “Then I propose a toast to the height of illogic. Long may it sustain us.”
Someone else said, “Hear, hear.” This time, though, Mark couldn’t bring himself to say it.
Mark stared at Carla from across the lunch table. Ramiro, Holland, Carla, and Taisha were carrying on about current events.
“So Cardassia’s part of the Dominion now?”
“That’s what they said on FNS.”
“I don’t get it. I mean, why would the Cardassians do that?”
“Who the hell knows? But it looks like we’re allied with the Klingons again.”
“Oh sure, now we’re all friends again. Bastards.”
Mark found himself fascinated with the way Carla chewed her food. His own food, though, remained untouched.
“I’m just wondering how President Zife is gonna react.”
“God, you don’t think there’ll be martial law again, do you?”
“Nah, Zife wouldn’t do that-Jaresh-Inyo, he ain’t.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t think Jaresh-Inyo would do it, either, and he did.”
“And promptly got voted the hell out of office. And good riddance to him. Zife, I trust.”
“What worries me is having Jem’Hadar this close. I hear they can change shape.”
“No, that’s the Founders. The Jem’Hadar are just nasty-ass soldiers.”
“You sure? I could swear they were shapechangers.”
“Nope. Ask Mark-his girlfriend’s in Starfleet.”
Suddenly, Mark realized that everyone was looking at him expectantly. “What?” was all he could manage to say as he thought, What the hell am I doing? Staring at Carla like some kind of lovesick teenager. What would Kath say if she found out? Which then prompted the thought, How the hell is Kath going to find out?
“Isn’t your girlfriend in Starfleet?”
Ramiro hit Holland on the arm. “You jackass.”
Holland winced and said, “Oh, damn, I’m sorry, Mark, I just forgot- “
“It’s okay.”
“You have a girlfriend?” Carla asked.
“Yeah-sort of.”
Carla smiled impishly. ” ‘Sort of,’ huh? That sounds like most relationships with Starfleet people.”
Mark shifted