Free The Long Night by Dean Wesley Smith, Kristine Kathryn Rusch
Authors: Dean Wesley Smith, Kristine Kathryn Rusch
O'Brien said.
"But that doesn't mean they aren't there," Dax said.
Sisko nodded. He didn't care if a green glow from the Jibetian god struck him dead. He was going to be the first person in that room in over eight hundred years.
He slipped inside the door and found himself in a chamber filled with art and more designs. The equipment on the wall glowed. The light was a single spot over a coldsleep bed on top of a raised platform.
Sisko let his tricorder scan the room so that he could show it undisturbed. Then he walked carefully toward the platform. The light was eerie, a recognition of life where there was none.
Dax followed as did O'Brien.
"I don't like this," O'Brien said.
But Sisko would wait to get O'Brien's opinion after they had looked at that coldsleep bed. Sisko climbed the stairs. Beside the bed, a long staff still glowed green. It was the symbol of the Supreme Ruler. It never left his side.
"Benjamin," Dax said softly.
"I see it, old man," he said.
He ran his gloved hand over the top of the staff, careful not to touch it. Then he peered down into the opaque lid.
The soft light made the Supreme Ruler's skin look faintly gray. The ruler was a young man, maybe in his late twenties, his features still perfectly formed. His face hadn't sunken in like the other dead man's had. The Supreme Ruler had the ridged cheekbones that marked a Jibetian, and Sisko knew that his eyes, if open, would have flecks of green in the whites.
The man's age surprised Sisko, even though he knew the history of Jibet. He figured that the Supreme Ruler would be a broken old man with a long white beard and features filled with age and wisdom. Not a man who, in real time, hadn't lived as long as Sisko had.
"We found it," Dax said, her voice barely containing the excitement. "We found him." She, too, reached down and reverently touched the green symbol.
"That we did, old man," Sisko said. "That we did."
"You may have found a little more than you were expecting." O'Brien's voice held none of the reverence that Dax's did. Sisko recognized the tone. It was O'Brien at his most cautious. He didn't know how Sisko would react to his find.
Sisko turned to him. O'Brien was kneeling beside the coldsleep chamber, his tricorder in his hand. After a moment he looked up at Dax and Sisko. "This is still working."
Sisko, for what seemed like an eternity, couldn't get his mind to wrap around O'Brien's words. He couldn't let the thought in. And then when it did Sisko broke into a cold sweat, and his stomach clamped down hard.
He hit his comm badge with so much force that it felt like he slapped himself in the chest. "Doctor Bashir! We need you on the surface immediately."
The doctor shot back a quick response that Sisko ignored. He crouched over the opaque glass and looked into the young face of Jibim Kiba Siber. The young and very much alive face of the Supreme Ruler of a peaceful empire that might soon be peaceful no longer.
And Sisko shuddered.
CHAPTER
7
IT TOOK KIRA an hour after the Defiant's departure to settle the issues of docking clamps, cargo logs, and incoming freighters. Then she retreated to the commander's office to examine the files he left for her.
She sat in his chair and read as quickly as she could. The chair always felt awkward to her-Gul Dukat had sat in it so much that it had molded to his shape. Try as she might, she could never get comfortable in it. Nor, if she were completely honest, could she ever be comfortable in an officer's room of Cardassian design. It had gotten so that she could ignore most of the Cardassian designs in her normal haunts around the station, but places like this-and Odo's brig-made her extremely uncomfortable. Try as she might, she could never leave the past completely behind.
Nor, it seemed, could the Jibetians. When their Supreme Ruler left, eight hundred years before, Jibetian culture continued to follow him as spiritual leader of their world. In search of their leader they spread out over
"But that doesn't mean they aren't there," Dax said.
Sisko nodded. He didn't care if a green glow from the Jibetian god struck him dead. He was going to be the first person in that room in over eight hundred years.
He slipped inside the door and found himself in a chamber filled with art and more designs. The equipment on the wall glowed. The light was a single spot over a coldsleep bed on top of a raised platform.
Sisko let his tricorder scan the room so that he could show it undisturbed. Then he walked carefully toward the platform. The light was eerie, a recognition of life where there was none.
Dax followed as did O'Brien.
"I don't like this," O'Brien said.
But Sisko would wait to get O'Brien's opinion after they had looked at that coldsleep bed. Sisko climbed the stairs. Beside the bed, a long staff still glowed green. It was the symbol of the Supreme Ruler. It never left his side.
"Benjamin," Dax said softly.
"I see it, old man," he said.
He ran his gloved hand over the top of the staff, careful not to touch it. Then he peered down into the opaque lid.
The soft light made the Supreme Ruler's skin look faintly gray. The ruler was a young man, maybe in his late twenties, his features still perfectly formed. His face hadn't sunken in like the other dead man's had. The Supreme Ruler had the ridged cheekbones that marked a Jibetian, and Sisko knew that his eyes, if open, would have flecks of green in the whites.
The man's age surprised Sisko, even though he knew the history of Jibet. He figured that the Supreme Ruler would be a broken old man with a long white beard and features filled with age and wisdom. Not a man who, in real time, hadn't lived as long as Sisko had.
"We found it," Dax said, her voice barely containing the excitement. "We found him." She, too, reached down and reverently touched the green symbol.
"That we did, old man," Sisko said. "That we did."
"You may have found a little more than you were expecting." O'Brien's voice held none of the reverence that Dax's did. Sisko recognized the tone. It was O'Brien at his most cautious. He didn't know how Sisko would react to his find.
Sisko turned to him. O'Brien was kneeling beside the coldsleep chamber, his tricorder in his hand. After a moment he looked up at Dax and Sisko. "This is still working."
Sisko, for what seemed like an eternity, couldn't get his mind to wrap around O'Brien's words. He couldn't let the thought in. And then when it did Sisko broke into a cold sweat, and his stomach clamped down hard.
He hit his comm badge with so much force that it felt like he slapped himself in the chest. "Doctor Bashir! We need you on the surface immediately."
The doctor shot back a quick response that Sisko ignored. He crouched over the opaque glass and looked into the young face of Jibim Kiba Siber. The young and very much alive face of the Supreme Ruler of a peaceful empire that might soon be peaceful no longer.
And Sisko shuddered.
CHAPTER
7
IT TOOK KIRA an hour after the Defiant's departure to settle the issues of docking clamps, cargo logs, and incoming freighters. Then she retreated to the commander's office to examine the files he left for her.
She sat in his chair and read as quickly as she could. The chair always felt awkward to her-Gul Dukat had sat in it so much that it had molded to his shape. Try as she might, she could never get comfortable in it. Nor, if she were completely honest, could she ever be comfortable in an officer's room of Cardassian design. It had gotten so that she could ignore most of the Cardassian designs in her normal haunts around the station, but places like this-and Odo's brig-made her extremely uncomfortable. Try as she might, she could never leave the past completely behind.
Nor, it seemed, could the Jibetians. When their Supreme Ruler left, eight hundred years before, Jibetian culture continued to follow him as spiritual leader of their world. In search of their leader they spread out over