Miracle Workers (SCE Books 5-8) - Keith R. A. DeCandido_. [et al.] [92]
I am now sitting in my tent. I am not sure if I’m ever going to leave the tent again. I have now had my rifle for almost an entire year. It has gone unfired the whole time. Could I have made a difference, either in the cave or in the hospital? Probably not. But perhaps I might have helped save a life or two.
It is obvious that I am not worthy to live when so many good men, like Kejahna and Dolahn and J’Roh, have died. Tell my children that I love them, Marig. And tell them that their father is a coward and a fool.
Best regards,
your unworthy husband,
Razka
Personal log, Commander Sonya Gomez, planet Sarindar, Stardate 53289.4
I’m a complete idiot.
I made the biggest mistake you can make—humanizing a machine. Well, maybe “ animalizing” is more accurate. But I should have realized that my idea wasn’t going to work.
The ruby-like flowers weren’t what lured the shii to the trap in the first place, it was the three Nalori. It was looking for more food to collect for its masters. Because it’s a machine. Machines do what they’re programmed to do, and this one is programmed to kill animals and decapitate them so their masters can eat.
So, naturally, when you collect everyone in one spot, that’s where it’s going to go.
God, it’s like I’m a green ensign back on the Enterprise again. And now fifteen more people are dead, and it’s my fault. I’m supposed to be in charge, and all I’ve done is get people killed.
One of the workers—I don’t even know his name—just came in and asked me to perform the funeral rites again. I was surprised at this, but he said something that surprised me even more:
“It is not your fault, Commander, it is ours. We fooled ourselves into thinking you were the sañuul, that you had lifted the curse of this miserable place. But you are, in the end, just a woman—as you yourself told us all along. You did not wish us to call you sañuul, and we should have listened. Instead, we are simply all victims of the curse of Sarindar.”
With that, he left.
I wish it made me feel better, but it doesn’t even come close. I’ve failed in my duty here. And it’s past time I made up for it.
First officer’s log, Commander Sonya Gomez, planet Sarindar, Stardate 53289.7
I’ve received a transmission from the da Vinci, but it’s garbled. The only thing I know for sure is that the signal originated from the Trivas system, which is an unclaimed region of space near the border between Federation and Cardassian space. Unfortunately, it’s not clear from the message if they were cutting short their mission to the Trivas system or if they couldn’t cut short that mission.
I’m proceeding on the latter assumption, and plan to once again attempt to activate the Culloden. First, however, I must perform funeral rites for those who have most recently died at the hands of the shii.
Personal log, Commander Sonya Gomez, planet Sarindar, Stardate 53289.9
After the service for those Nalori who died in the hospital, I checked to see what rites needed to be performed for Dolahn. According to the database, most Gallamites didn’t practice any particular death rituals, but some belonged to a religion known as Ambrushroi, which requires that the body be burned within six hours of death. However, there’s no evidence that Dolahn was Ambrushroi—and in any case, most non-Ambrushroi Gallamites don’t care what’s done to their bodies, and Razka told me that Dolahn had no family. So I ordered his body burned anyhow. Seemed the best thing to do.
It’s like the Dominion War all over again—each day goes by with us all wondering who’s going to die next.
No.
That’s not going to happen.
I’m going to face this thing. I’ve assigned one of the engineers to work on the Culloden. As for me, I’m going to find the shii and either convince it to stop what it’s doing—
—or stop it myself.
Letter