Lost Era 06_ Catalyst of Sorrows - Margaret Wander Bonanno [63]
“Truth is consistent!” he barked to be heard above the grunting and huffing and straining in the cold, high-ceilinged room as his ghilik, as he called them-the word meant “mongrel”- went through their daily exercises and he stood off to one side, hands clasped behind his back, alternately berating and lecturing them. “If you must lie, remember what you’ve told to whom, in case you’re asked to repeat your story later.”
The less intelligent among them, even those who’d survived by lies, had raised their hands during the break, asking questions. Zetha said nothing, but when he challenged her, she was ready.
“Truth is also dangerous,” he barked, gimlet eyes focusing on Zetha, annoyed that she didn’t flinch the way some of the others did still. “Why?”
She hadn’t hesitated. “Because to tell the same truth too consistently makes it seem like a lie.”
He hadn’t smiled, hadn’t even acknowledged what she’d said. He’d merely narrowed his eyes at her, and she knew she’d won.
“So essentially we’re on this mission because of you,” Sisko said thoughtfully when she’d told him the most recent version of the truth.
Zetha shrugged to hide a sudden lurch in her heart rate. Carefully! “That’s one way of looking at it.”
“How do we know you’re not a spy?”
“Tuvok doesn’t seem to think so.”
“You’re not speaking with Tuvok at the moment,” Sisko said, tweaking the environmental controls, which were still sluggish regardless of the work he’d done. His tone was not unkind, but it was incisive. “I’m in command of this ship.”
Zetha shrugged again. She understood that her role here was no different than what it has always been-to be silent, invisible, to speak when spoken to, watch and listen. She had followed Tuvok onto Albatross, dutifully stowed the clothing Uhura had provided her in the wardrobe she shared with Selar in the sleeping quarters, and sat on the edge of her cot awaiting instructions. When Tuvok told her she was free to move about the living quarters and the cargo bay, she had masked her surprise and gone exploring before venturing forward to the control cabin, in hopes Sisko would allow her to watch the stars on the forward screen.
He’d been running a diagnostic prior to departure, the pilot’s seat swung 180 degrees around from the controls so he could check all systems when he saw her in the hatch-way. He’d crooked a finger at her and pointed her toward the copilot’s seat.
“Sit if you want. But don’t touch anything.”
She had done just that, and watched silently as Albatross rumbled out of dock and made half-impulse until she was clear of the Sol system, then lurched into warp. She’d won points from Sisko for being quiet and enjoying the view, but now he seemed torn between curiosity and mistrust. Unfortunately, it was the mistrust that came through in his words.
“Tuvok knows where to find me,” Zetha said now, studying the human out of the corner of her eye. Distrust was straightforward; she could deal with it.
“Three things,” Sisko said. “First, you’re allowed forward only when I’m here and on my say-so, and when you’re here, you sit where I tell you to sit and you don’t touch anything. Second, you stay out of the engine room.”
“And third?”
The lieutenant’s expression softened somewhat. “Tell me about Romulan cooking. You’re not vegetarian like Vulcans, are you?”
“Vegetarian?” Zetha didn’t recognize the word.
“You don’t just eat plants. You eat meat, fish, things like that.”
“When we can find it, yes.”
“You like spicy food?”
The recollection of the meal she and Tahir had pilfered from the refuse bins outside The Orchid, discarded no doubt because some centurion’s wife found it not to her liking, tingled for a moment on her memory’s taste-buds.
Remember the food, she told herself. Don’t think about Tahir. Either he escaped that afternoon or he didn’t, and if he did, you’ve long been replaced in his affections by another…
“Sometimes,” she said carefully.
Sisko’s smile