The Good That Men Do - Andy Mangels [2]
“I read your latest about six months ago,” Nog said, settling back onto a replicated nineteenth-century chair. Its tall back, padded with a rich red velvet, towered over the diminutive Ferengi’s head, making him look like a child. “It was quite entertaining. I wasn’t able to figure out who the killer was before you revealed it… or them, actually.”
“Well, that’s part of the fun of writing a mystery set in the era before scanning technology,” Jake replied. “The detectives have to work a bit harder to figure out their cases.” He took another sip of his wine. “Rena was also very happy with that particular book.”
“She was surprised by the ending, too?” Nog asked.
“No. She’s happy that it got optioned. They’re supposed to be making a holoprogram out of it. On Mars.”
“Ah-ha, profit!” Nog raised his glass in a mock toast. “I always knew that girl had a bit of Ferengi in her.”
Jake grimaced slightly, mocking his friend right back. “She couldn’t care less about the profit. She just likes seeing my credits and telling people about her famous-but-reclusive husband. Besides which, holo-authors are so much more respectable and important than book authors these days. Didn’t you know that?”
Nog rolled his eyes. “Not that old song again. I think you’ve had more than your share of fame.”
“More than I ever wanted,” Jake said, nodding.
There was a flash of movement to the side, and Nog flinched as a fat ball of gray and brown fur jumped up on the arm of the chair, and then collapsed heavily onto his lap.
“Ah, cue the cat. Odo has decided to join us,” Jake said.
Nog’s eyes widened sharply. “Odo? You mean—”
Jake almost choked on the sip of wine he had taken. He swallowed loudly and wiped his hand over his mouth. “Not Odo-Odo. Cat-Odo.” He laughed. “What, did you think I’ve been keeping the station’s old security chief around here as a pet all these years?”
Nog shrugged, staring peculiarly at the cat, which padded around on his lap, kneading its claws in and out against the thankfully tough fabric of his uniform pants. “I don’t know. Stranger things have happened to us.”
Jake raised an eyebrow. “Not that strange.” He leaned across the table, making sure his elbows didn’t topple either the wine bottle or the glasses, and scooped the chubby cat off Nog’s lap. “Here, I’ll take the constable off your hands.”
Nog took a sip from his glass, and then fidgeted for a moment. “Actually, I don’t want to make it sound like I had to have a reason to visit you, but something just came up and I thought of you.”
“So, what is it?” Jake leaned forward slightly. Odo jumped off his lap and scampered away, undoubtedly heading toward his food dish.
Nog pulled a small isolinear chip out of a pocket in his tunic. The firelight glinted off it, making it appear as though it had a firefly trapped within its slender, emerald-colored confines.
“I discovered this when I was researching twenty-second-century warp mechanics,” Nog said. “I was digging around in some of the newly declassified files.”
Jake raised an eyebrow. “Declassified files? From where? By who? And when?”
Jake peered at the chip, as if trying to divine its secrets just by studying its translucent surface. “The when is part of what makes this complicated. It concerns events we’ve been told happened in 2161. But the real events actually occurred years earlier, in 2155. And I can’t tell whether the where and who are related solely to Section 31, or whether this apparently deliberate cover-up was something sanctioned by those in charge during the earliest days of the Federation.”
“All the answers aren’t in the declassified information?