Oblivion - Michael Jan Friedman [72]
Demmix didn’t comment. He just frowned.
“You look concerned,” Picard noted.
Demmix snorted. “The man who was supposed to get me off Oblivion is a hunted fugitive. Wouldn’t you call that cause for concern?”
“Trust me,” said the captain. “Now that we are together, we will find a way to reach the Stargazer.”
“A way to—?” his friend echoed. He looked stricken. “Don’t you have your communicator?”
Picard shook his head. “It was taken from me. Any idea if there’s a working com system in this vessel?”
Demmix pointed to another hatch, half-hidden by some containers. “Through there.”
“Let’s take a look,” said the captain.
What they found, at the end of a long corridor, was an open doorway that led to the vessel’s control room. It was a bit like the Stargazer’s bridge, but a lot smaller.
Fortunately, the rest of the ship wasn’t as dusty as the cargo hold. Apparently, the ventilation system was better in some places than in others.
As Picard had hoped, the communications panel looked none the worse for age.
Demmix ran his fingers over its controls. “If we can get this thing going,” he said, “we should transmit the information I’ve gathered on the Ubarrak. That way, if we don’t make it to the Stargazer, the Federation will still be able to make use of what I’ve learned.”
The captain smiled at him. “Done. But don’t worry. We will make it back.”
The Zartani nodded. “I trust you, Jean-Luc. I always have.”
Suddenly, Picard felt a hand on his arm. It was Guinan’s—and she didn’t look happy.
“What’s wrong?” he asked her.
“He’s lying,” she said.
Picard didn’t understand—until her eyes slid in Demmix’s direction. The captain turned to the Zartani, who seemed caught between surprise and resentment.
“I beg your pardon?” said Demmix.
“Guinan,” Picard said in an appeal for reason, “this man has risked his life to help the Federation. I don’t think we should be disparaging him.”
Guinan’s gaze remained fixed on Demmix. “The information he wants to give us…it’s wrong,” she said.
“Are you out of your mind?” rasped the Zartani, his voice edged with bitterness.
“Not in the least,” Guinan responded. “That data is designed to get the Federation into trouble somehow—maybe when it clashes with the Ubarrak’s warships.”
Picard put his hand on Demmix’s shoulder and said, “You must be mistaken. I know Demmix. And I know what the Ubarrak have done to him.”
“Nonetheless,” Guinan insisted, “he’s trying to deceive you. I’m certain of it.”
“I don’t know who this person is,” said the Zartani, “but I didn’t come all the way to Oblivion to speak with her.” He eyed Picard. “I came to speak with you.”
The captain frowned. Demmix was his friend. His first impulse was to trust him. And Starfleet was inclined to trust him as well, or it wouldn’t have dispatched one of its officers here to meet him.
But Guinan hadn’t been wrong about anything yet. Her instincts were remarkable—better than those of anyone he had ever encountered. If she said Demmix was lying, Picard had to at least entertain the possibility that she was right.
“I don’t believe this,” said the Zartani, reading the captain’s expression. “You’d take her word before mine?”
Picard sighed. “Please, Demmix. I—”
“I’ve risked my life to get the Federation this information,” the Zartani spat. “My life, Jean-Luc! You can’t just leave me twisting in the wind!”
The captain was still trying to think of how to respond when he heard a shuffle of feet. He whirled and went for his disruptor pistol.
But he was too late. Tain and a couple of his Cardassians had already entered the room, their own weapons drawn. Tain’s lackeys were training their disruptors on Guinan and Demmix.
Only Tain’s weapon was trained on Picard.
“It’s not that I would mind punching a hole in you,” Tain told him ever-so-reasonably, “but it might be easier for everyone if you simply put your stolen