Chapter Thirteen
According to the intelligence
she had been gathering on Poplar's whereabouts since his arrival in
The
lodging where Poplar was currently residing lay on the other side of town under
the ownership of a woman who called herself Lady Angel. Lady Angel had not been
forthcoming about allowing them into Poplar's room, particularly when he had
paid in advance and what she called a border 'who didn't give her no trouble'
as she put it. At least, not until Alex appealed to her sense of community by
explaining what it was they suspected him of doing. While she did not seem
completely swayed by Alex's disclosure, she could not refuse when the
possibility existed.
When Alex
pushed open the door, the first thing she heard was the buzzing of flies. This
was not an unusual occurrence since Poplar had left his window wide open and
the annoying insects had entered his room through that opening. However, for a
town like
As Alex
knelt down to pick it up, Josiah examined the rest of the room and saw that
other than the unmade bed, there was no signs of habitation. Even the wash
basin was empty and everything was neatly placed, except for the basket in the
corner which seemed to be the centre of convergence for all the flies they
heard buzzing about the room. He approached the basket cautiously and noted
that the insects disbanded and flew to the ceiling in annoyance at his sudden
appearance. Josiah looked down into the basket and saw a tumble of clothes at
the bottom of the hamper.
Josiah
took a deep breath and reached into the bottom of the basket and immediately
felt his fingertips making contact with fabric that was undoubtedly wet. He recoiled
a little from the slick feel but forced himself to clamp his fist around it and
retrieved it from its hiding place. "I found something." He declared
with an expression of distaste on his face as he glanced in Alex's direction.
"Me
too." Alex announced proudly, dropping the carpetbag onto the mattress.
"You first." She motioned to the clothing he had in his hand.
Josiah was
more than happy to relinquish his find on the mattress and immediately wiped
his hand on his clothes when he had released it. The offending garments were a
shirt and jacket, all heavily smeared with blood. If they had any lingering
doubts as to the Poplar's guilt, it was more or less vanquished when they
sighted those crimson stained clothes. With a hollowing sensation in his stomach,
Josiah looked at the damning evidence before him and knew that the blood that
had attracted the flies was that of Julia Pemberton's. He supposed it was just
as well as Ezra was not here.
"I
guess that pretty much confirms it then." She said softly.
Josiah
could only nod. "I guess it does."
"He
killed her," Alex swallowed, trying to calm her own anger over what she
was seeing before her and trying to imagine how helpless Julia must have felt
when she was bound and brutalised. "While
everyone was inside because of our fight with Top Hat Bob, he moved the body
out in the street and then came back here to get cleaned up."
"He
was still pretty confident about pining it on me back then so he would not have
worried about hiding this." Josiah regarded the discriminating evidence
left behind.
"Well
not that we need it," Alex said after a moment, looking away form the
blood soaked material. "We should see if there's anything else in
here." She turned to the carpetbag and proceeded to open it, feeling as if
it were a foregone conclusion that there was nothing left to find that could
possibly be more incriminating than what they had already discovered until the
glint of something shiny caught her eye from insides it confines.
Josiah
caught her expression immediately and asked. "What is it?"
"Look."
Alex gestured to the bad and Josiah leaned forward to see what it was that had
left her so speechless.
Taped up
neatly in brown paper with only the top face of the first coin showing, was the
gleam of silver dollars, polished with care. The same silver dollars found
covering each of the victim's eyes. I
Alex said
nothing as she reached in and pocketed the find, having no intention of
allowing this evidence to suddenly disappear by leaving it alone for any
reason. Once she had ensured that it was safely in her possession, Alex slammed
the bag shut, hearing the metallic latch click into place before she raised her
eyes to meet Josiah's.
"Alright,"
she said coolly. "Let's hang this son a bitch."
*********
If there
was one thing Ezra knew about people, it was when they were running scared.
Even
though Poplar did not notice Ezra following him and keeping him under close
surveillance, the man was nonetheless nervous. Alex had been correct in her
assertion that if Ezra did not wished to be noticed, no one would be capable of
doing so as Poplar continued about his business with no knowledge that Ezra was
watching. The more Ezra studied the man, the more certain he became that this
was the creature that had killed his beloved Julia. Only training and a strict
reverence for due process kept Ezra from doing what was necessary, even in this
facsimile world created by the Q entity whom omnipotent or not, would be made
accountable when Ezra finally met him.
From the
table of the saloon where he was seated with a bunch of opponents who wanted to
see if the card player Ezra Standish was all he was reputed to be, Ezra watched
the door of the undertaker's office where Poplar had entered a short time ago.
The Pinkerton detective had claimed that he wanted to question Nathan himself
regarding the findings of the autopsy done on Julia Pemberton. While Ezra
spared him that particular anguish by seeing the woman he loved being cut open,
he did not intend to let Poplar escape and found himself this unobtrusive
corner where he could continue to observe.
Poplar
emerged from the office with Nathan who did not seem at all impressed by any of
the man's questions, just as Ezra had laid a straight on the table before his
fellow gamblers. Poplar's unheard words to Nathan were spoken with the
background of a low rumble of discontent at the winning hand Ezra had produced.
Although he was aware of everything that was happening around the table, he was
concentrating on what was taking place outside the undertaker's front door.
Poplar had some concluding remarks before he turned away from Nathan and
started walking in the opposite direction.
"Gentlemen,"
Ezra hardly batted an eye as he glanced at the other cards presented and saw
that the victory was still his. "It's been a pleasure, but I must take my
leave." He said politely before scooping up his winnings.
There was
a frown from everyone at the table at watching their money disappear into his
pockets but Ezra hardly cared and knew that these were not the kind of man who
would be too sore at their defeat. He saw Nathan crossing the street and
immediately left the establishment, leaving enough of a tab with the bartender
to ensure that his return would be met with gratitude the next time he chose to
frequent the place. Having concluded his business in the saloon, Ezra made a
hasty departure from the place and joined Nathan on the street.
"Ezra,"
Nathan saw the security chief approaching. The doctor had been somewhat
concerned about the Southerner ever since they discovered Julia's body and knew
that this length of time could not possibly enough to assuage the man's grief.
"How are you doing?"
Ezra did
not waste time with idle conversation, his eyes were already searching the
street for Poplar. "Where did he go?" Ezra demanded.
"Where
did who go?" Nathan asked blankly.
"Poplar?"
Ezra retorted. "Where did he go?"
The
urgency in Ezra's voice immediately produced an answer from Nathan. "That
way." He glanced at the direction of the lodging house. "Why?"
"It's
highly likely that he might have killed Julia." The security chief
answered without skipping a beat and did not pause when he reached the doctor,
instead altered his course so that Nathan would follow him.
Strangely
enough, the revelation did not surprise Nathan very much. The man had given
Nathan what could only be called 'the creeps' and Ezra's statement only seemed
to give good reason for it now. "What makes you think that?" Nathan
asked as he felt into stride with Ezra who was hell bent on putting Poplar in
his sights once again.
"Just
the way he was certain that Josiah was the one who committed the crime and he
seemed to be somewhat vague regarding his whereabouts during the time Julia was
killed." Ezra replied without pause. "I have questioned perpetrators
in my life time and to a quote a colloquialism, I have to say that man is
dirty. I can smell it."
Nathan
could sense something in Ezra's voice that immediately gave rise to his
concern. Considering what Ezra was feeling with Julia's death, there was no way
in the world that Nathan could believe that he was anything but justified in
his feelings but the security chief was always in control. A man so in command
of his emotions at all time had a tendency to erupt spectacularly when the time
came for those emotions to spill forth. Grief and rage was carrying Ezra away
on a tide of destruction that not even his adept emotional control could
restrain and Nathan feared that he might cross the line if he believed Poplar
was Julia's murderer.
They were
not far from the lodging house's main entrance when they heard its door swing
open. Almost reflexively, Ezra pulled Nathan and himself behind the safety of
the building they were walking so that their presence would not be revealed. As
they both remained hidden behind the corner of the hardware store behind which
they had taken refuge, Ezra observed Poplar emerging from the front of the
lodging house. This time, there was no cool, deliberate expression on the man's
face that hid the evidence of his guilt. His expression was nakedly panicked
and as he stepped out into the light, began scanning the street for evidence of
pursuit.
"Something
has happened." Ezra guessed as he saw the fear etched in Poplar's face.
"What?"
Nathan whispered as he observed over Ezra's shoulder. Poplar had seen neither
of them but then the man was in such a state of heightened fear, Nathan doubted
that he was paying all that much attention anyway.
"I do
not know," Ezra shook his head unable to fathom what could have happened
to shake Poplar's demeanor so irrevocably. Whatever it was, Ezra did not have
time to debate the situation as he saw Poplar's next destination. The man was
almost running towards it and it took a split second for it to register in
Ezra's mind what Poplar was attempting to do.
"He
is running!" Ezra exclaimed and moved out of his hiding place, determined
not to let the man get away.
Whether or
not Poplar noticed them behind him, the Pinkerton detective did not seem to
show any evidence of it. He ran through the streets almost blindly, with only
one thought in his mind, to reach the livery where his horse was stabled so
that he could escape
For so
long it had weighed upon his mind, the heinous acts that he had carried out.
Their faces plagued him during so many nights filled with terrible dreams of
strangled cries and terrified eyes dimming as their life oozed from their
bodies. So many that he could not stand to look at, whose eyes he had to cover
with the silver dollars they used to pay someone else he had loved and had betrayed
him, they were dead but they followed him like the Furies followed Orestes. He
knew deep down inside that what he did was wrong and when the sober light of
day allowed him to view his victims, he almost felt grief for what he had done
but not enough to stop. The urge that came when the sun went down and the
familiar tug came pulling at him was too strong too ignore and he would become
the very worst of human predators, the one who killed for no reason.
Ezra lost sight of Poplar when they rounded the corner but there was no doubt
in his mind where the man was headed. Starfleet health protocols ensured that
its officers could do run five miles without faltering and the distance to the
livery was negligible at best. Nathan kept up with him stride for stride and
when they heard the slamming of the wooden door that led to the stables where
Poplar's horse was no doubt kept, they knew that the quarry was inside
attempting to make his escape.
"Nathan,"
Ezra glanced at the doctor as they neared the door. "Be careful, he is a
cornered animal at the moment. He will shoot."
Nathan
nodded in understanding, aware that this was no holodeck
and any injuries incurred would not be simulated but real. They could die in
this place as Julia had proven so prolifically.
"In
that case," Nathan cracked a smile, hiding his fear in a joke. "You
go first."
Ezra gave
him a look before the security chief advanced cautiously towards the main
stable doors. His gun was drawn and he was more than prepared to fire when
suddenly, the doors flew open in a preemptive strike. Ezra and Nathan both
dropped to the ground as the horse rushed past them with Poplar forcing it
forward by digging his heels into the animal's flank. The abrupt kick in its
sides made it neigh in protest at the rough handling but Poplar did not seem to
care, concerned only with making his escape from town.
"POPLAR!"
Ezra shouted.
Ezra's cry
forced Poplar to look over his shoulder.
The
distraction was all the time that Ezra needed to take aim and fire.
The
explosion of sound followed the gunshot but instead of seeing Poplar tumbled to
the ground from his saddle, the animal he was riding reared up on its hind legs
at the sting of lead that had nicked it rump. The abrupt action from the mare
dislodged Poplar from the its back and the Pinkerton detective landed hard on
the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust upon impact. Ezra was already closing in
on him, having seen the gun around Poplar's hip and refusing to give the man
any leave to use it on himself or on Nathan. There had had been enough dying
today.
"I
would not advise it." Ezra said coldly as he saw Poplar recovering from
his fall enough to reach for the smooth wooden handle of the weapon nestled in
the holster around his hip. His fingers barely touched the butt of the gun when
Ezra made his warning.
Poplar
swallowed, feeling his heart pounding in his chest and yet trying to make some
kind of recovery in the wake of his rather incriminating actions. He no longer
reached for his gun, choosing instead to dust the dirt from his person. An ugly
scrape had formed on his cheek when he had fallen and an uneven veil of blood
was running down the skin. "What is the meaning of this?" He hissed
as he raised his eyes to meet Ezra's.
"I
was about to inquire the same." Ezra remarked calmly. "Where do you
think you were going?"
"I am
not under suspicion." Poplar retorted but his voice was shaking. "I
do not have to account my whereabouts to you or anybody."
"Considering
what we discussed earlier, I thought we had reached an understanding, a professional
rapport even." Ezra answered smoothly. "You should have told me you
were leaving. Actions such at these make me wonder what it is that could make
you so hasty to leave?"
"We
have nothing!" Poplar barked.
"I'm
afraid that's not entirely true." Alexandra Styles announced herself with
that statement. "Josiah and I have something that might refute that."
All eyes
turned to Alex and Josiah who had heard the commotion and had come to
investigate, sensing that Ezra and Poplar would be at the centre of it.
Alex went
to Ezra's side as Josiah and Nathan, both armed, had drawn their weapons and
were keeping the barrels of both guns aimed firmly in Poplar's direction.
"We found this in his room at the lodging house." Alex handed the
roll of coins to Ezra.
Ezra said
nothing and stared at the gleaming roll of silver dollars in his hands. Here it
was, the hard evidence that he needed. He understood now why Poplar had decided
to run. No doubt after returning to his room and learning that someone else had
been there and had found the evidence needed to convict him of murdering Julia
and so many others, Poplar had panicked and decided to escape while he could.
If Ezra had not been following him, he very well might have succeeded.
"We
also found clothes in his room that were soiled with blood." Alex added.
"The means of finding out is impossible in this day and age but I think we
know that its Julia's."
"This
is a frame!" Poplar swore. "You're trying to incriminate me! It will
never stand up in a court of law!"
"Come
on Silas," Josiah started to speak in those soft soothing tones that had
the ability to convince Moriaty to turn over a new
leaf. "You want to stop. I can't see the pain in your eyes, the need for
repentance. You didn't want to hurt those girls, the way you took care of them
after you killed them makes that plain enough to see."
Poplar's
eyes shifted to Josiah, almost compelled by the Counselor's words to listen.
"I didn't do it."
"Yes
you did," Josiah continued, "you know you did and you're sorry. You're
making them pay for something someone else did Silas, something that they had
no way of changing for you but you didn't have a choice did you? When you see
them, you see her and you can't fight it. You've been a slave to it all your
life and you want to stop as much as we want you too. I understand."
Poplar
blinked and a tear rolled down his cheek as he listened to Josiah, the man he
wanted to blame for his sins, who seemed to have an open conduit into his soul
to understand that pain he had been suffering, to appreciate what he had
endured. It felt good to know that he was no longer trapped in his shadowy
world alone, that somewhere, someone finally knew what it was to be him.
"I
never wanted to hurt them." He whispered as he stared at Josiah's eyes.
"I didn't want them to die but I couldn't help it. I just wanted them to
know how much I hurt, I just wanted them to listen, like she wouldn't
listen."
Ezra was
listening. He was listening closely for the confession that made the truth
incontrovertible. This man was admitting that he had killed all those poor
women in so many cities across this manufactured land. It did not matter that Q
had created this world, this world existed nonetheless and women had died just
as surely as Julia had died. He thought about Julia and his last words to her
that had not been ones that anyone should take away with them when they left
this life and felt a thousand knives tearing into the flesh of his heart. He
could not breathe, could not think of anything else but the fire of those
emerald eyes that existed only in his memories now because she was dead.
No longer
beautiful, no longer warm with love and spirited with fire. She was just dead.
A slab of meat growing colder in the undertaker's office, fit only to be
ejected into space like flotsam or buried like an ancient treasure.
Dead meat.
The
derringer slid neatly out of its hiding place under his sleeve with one slick
movement, it slipped into his palm and with the same lightning reflexes that he
used to handle a phaser, Ezra pulled the trigger. He
did not know that there were tears in his eyes when the gun fired. Did not feel
the moisture against his skin when the small bullet slammed into the centre of
Poplar's forehead, spurting blood and bone as it tore the back of his skull
apart. He might have been conscious of Alex's shocked cry or Josiah and
Nathan's horrified gasps. He was certain bystanders watching the proceedings
might have screamed but Ezra was so far from hearing that he could not be sure.
All that
he was certain of was that Julia was still dead and killing Poplar had
satisfied his revenge but had done nothing to heal his wounded heart. He
watched dispassionately as the man collapsed onto the floor, saturating the
ground with blood while his companions looked on with astonishment. Ezra did
not know how long the play had gone on before he was able to meet their eyes.
"Ezra....."
Alex stuttered, not knowing what to say. "Jesus."
"He
wanted someone to listen," Ezra said returning the derringer back into
place beneath his sleeve. "I did."
Chapter Fourteen
Completely
oblivious to what was presently transpiring in town with the rest of his
officers, in particular his security chief, Chris Larabee
led the rest of the Maverick's senior staff into the collection of tents and
shanties that made up infamous locale known as Wickestown.
Prior to their arrival here, the chatter of the locals had told the Captain
what to expect but to see the place for himself was nothing like their
description. Many unsavory images were conjured up in his head when one spoke
about bordellos and cat houses but Mr Wickes had created a new distinction of
sleaze in the establishment he run in the middle of nowhere, miles from Four
Corners.
To make
matters worse, Chris was not entirely certain that confronting Mr Wickes and
his cohorts was exactly the best way to proceed but if Picard's reports
regarding Q were to be taken as gospel, the entity often liked being involved
in the mischief it created. Chris was certain that Q wanted a ringside seat to
watch them dancing to his tune. Since he did not appear to be around when Chris
had confronted Top Hat Bob and Poplar did not seem to have an accomplice, Chris
could only deduce that Q was watching from Wickes' side. Chris disliked the
idea of having to deal with Mr Wickes who from Buck and Mary's account sounded
like a true piece of vermin, but with Julia dead it was obvious they could not
remain here when any of them might befall the same fate.
It was
easy enough to sneak into the camp that made up Wickestown.
There was such a large clientele that it was a simple matter for five people to
go unnoticed. The atmosphere was lively even in broad daylight with half clad
women visible at almost every tent they came across. Mary stayed closed to
Chris, finding the whole concept rather odious even though such places still
existed in the age that they lived in. The ladies for most part seemed neither
unhappy or happy, their eyes wore the look of resignation that this was their
life and they had accepted it. The lack of spirit in their eyes was more
offensive to Mary than the fact that men with leering expressions were
commandeering their attentions as if they were objects to be purchased.
The
unfortunate reality of their profession made it true.
"This
is disgusting." Mary hissed under her breath when she saw a young girl no
more than sixteen, standing at the open flap of tent, cheeks reddened with too
much rouge and her lips painted crimson, making her look older than she really
was. The girl had smiled at JD, who swallowed visibly when she pulled down the
sleeve of her shoulder and revealed an alabaster shoulder that was marred with
a bruise.
"I
don't know." Buck remarked with a hint of mischief. "I mean they are
providing a service."
"Attaboy Buck," Vin retorted. "Show her your
sensitive side." The helmsman was more comfortable with his
"This
was the way things were back then," Buck said unrepentant and as a matter
of factly. "There were like twenty men to one
woman. A man had to get some relief."
Chris
slapped his hand over his face wondering if it was possible to get away with
shooting one's first office in the mouth.
"Oh
really?" Mary turned to Buck, her feminist outrage well and truly inspired
as she stared at him, with her fists clenched on her hips, a stance that Chris
knew well enough to be the universal position taken up by females about to go
ballistic.
"I'm
sure he didn't mean it that way....." Chris started to say, giving Buck a
murderous glare.
"Well
perhaps they should have used the tried and true method." The protocol
officer retorted, her blue gray eyes smoldering as they narrowed. "Using Mrs Palmer and five daughters!"
All four
men looked at her in shock at using that rather old but very descriptive method
of dispelling relief as Buck had put it.
"Lieutenant
Travis." Buck exclaimed with astonished amusement. "That's extremely
sexist."
"Buck
shut up." Vin snapped.
"Yes Buck,"
Chris said rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Please, shut up."
"I
don't get it." JD looked at them all confused. "Mrs
Palmer?"
"Let
me explain....." Buck started to say.
"Later."
Chris met the first officer's gaze and growled.
"Yes
Sir." Buck swallowed, seeing the captain's patience finally reached its
limits.
"Hey,"
Vin spoke suddenly, his voice urgent. "Is that Wickes?"
Vin's
statement immediately forced them to raise their eyes at the sight of Mr Wickes
emerging from one of the tents, a rather battered young woman in his grip as he
came through the flap. Her physical state indicated that she had been abused
physically and Mary's stomach hollowed at the sight of the desolate expression
on her face. Wickes for his part, did not seem at all worried about her
condition, shoving her in the direction of ladies in his stable. They
immediately surrounded their wounded comrade and spirited her away to another
tend, most likely to deal with her injuries. The animosity they felt towards Mr
Wickes was obvious, even if they were powerless to do anything about it.
"That's
him." Buck spoke through his teeth. "That's the son of a bitch."
The first officer started towards Mr Wickes but Chris grabbed his arm and kept
him from going any further.
"Stand
down Buck." Chris ordered.
"Yeah,"
Vin added his agreement. The helmsman's eyes were already scouring the
immediate area and they could see the men that were located in various points,
acting as bodyguard by the gunbelts worn around their
hips. "He's got people around him." Vin warned. "You take two
wrong steps towards him and they'll cut you down before you even get
there."
"We
have to reach him," Chris replied as he signaled them into what appeared
to be an empty tent. Judging by the rumpled sheets and the trunk in the corner,
laden with feminine clothing, its owner would soon be returning so he outlined
his plan quickly since they did not have a great deal of time. "If we can
get him alone, maybe we can use him to draw Q out."
"Or
at the very least, keep his men from blowing our heads off." Vin added.
"Sounds
like a plan," Buck conceded that the plan was sound even if their method
of executing it at this time appeared somewhat vague.
"So
how do we do that?" JD inquired, assuming that the trio had some sort of
idea how they were going to accomplish that.
Chris did
not answer for he had not thought that far ahead. However, he noticed that Mary
had drifted away from the group and was presently examining the contents of the
worn trunk on the floor. She lifted from the array of slips and corsets what
was definitely a scandalous cut dress in red.
"I
have an idea." She suggested winking at Chris while, holding the gown over
herself.
Chris'
eyes widened.
"Absolutely
not." He responded without hesitation once it dawned upon him what she was
alluding to.
"Chris,"
Mary said impatiently. "Somehow I do not see anyone else in our party
fitting into this dress and quite frankly, you don't have much of a
choice."
"Oh I
don't know," Buck glanced at Vin with a devious smile. "Vin, with your
hair...."
"I'll
shoot you
"Hey!"
Chris snapped. "Will you two cut it out? Mary, no." He stated once
again, facing the protocol officer. "Its too dangerous. You saw what he
did to that girl out there."
"I
did," Mary nodded, not about to forget that for one minute. "But I
don't intend to be alone with him long enough for that to happen and I am going
in armed. Once I get him alone and under a gun, you three can come in and take
it from there. It won't arouse any suspicion from his men."
"That's
true." JD agreed with Mary's assessment even though he did not like to
think of her in that position any more than Chris did. Mary always seemed so
dignified and she was what JD coined as a lady, someone too elegant for the
plan she had just conceived.
"Don't
encourage her." Chris retorted and JD immediately fell silent.
"Chris,"
Mary looked at him. "You don't have a choice. We need to get out of here.
We have obligations back on the Maverick, not to mention the fact that I really
do not wish to die in this place, the way Julia has."
Chris
swore under his breath, not all happy about Mary being the bait that would lure
Wickes into solitude but as Captain, he had to forget that she was more than
just his protocol officer. He had to forget that he loved her and threat Mary
like any other officer and resource under his command. There was more than just
her life he had to consider but all the other members of the senior staff because
she was right, he was not allowing anyone else to die like Julia had.
"Alright,"
he conceded at last, reluctant to do so but unable to deny that they did indeed
need to return to the Maverick before any one else was killed. "We'll go
with your plan."
"Mary,
he saw you." Buck pointed out. "You can't convince him to do anything
if he recognises you."
"That's
true," Mary agreed but she had already considered this and picked up a
black wig that was visible through the heap of clothing and immediately extracted
it from the collection. Slipping it over her blond locks, she looked at Chris
and replied. "I think it becomes me, don't you?"
**********
Wickes
thought he knew every woman that worked for him. He mad it a matter of
principal to 'assess' their qualifications for deserving employment with him
personally. Most of them did not mind the task and it was those that Wickes
hired for the simple reason of money while others, the ones who had come off
the farm, with no family and had no other choice but to resort to whoring for
money, those were the treats. He liked their delusions of doing the work just
long enough to earn money to take them to a new life, unaware that they were
indenturing themselves to him until it was too late. Those who ran often paid
the price for Wickes knew there were plenty more where they came from.
Mary saw
Wickes as she walked up the path between the tents. He was at one of the tables
outside a tent that acted as a saloon of sorts, with a girl on his lap, talking
to one of the men who had sampled his wares. She prayed inwardly that Chris and
the others were watching her closely when she felt a tingle of revulsion at the
sight of the man she had to pretend to seduce. He was a fat, bloated specimen
with a goatee and a dusty old suit that was meant to make his look respectable
but succeeded in making look more like the slime he was.
She was
noticed the minute she had appeared out in the open with her heavily made up
face, her wig and the dress that pulled so tightly across the bosom and the
waist that in this day and age, it left nothing to the imagination. She noted
with some amusement the expression of desire on Chris' face as he had surveyed
her form even though he tried very much to hide it and wondered if all men
harbored secret fantasies about seeing the women they loved in such apparel.
Men started hooting and whistling at her as she continued walking, hoping she
looked nothing like the woman Wickes had tried to accost earlier that day.
She gave
alluring smiles to those who propositioned her, keeping her eyes fixed on
Wickes who by now had glanced her way. Mary could tell by the expression in his
eyes that desire and lust was quickly filtering into them and that like the
other men about the place, he was just as taken by her disguise. Mary ignored
the crude offers and kept her gaze fixed upon Wickes, so that he would know
that he was all that she was interested in. This was no different from any
negotiation that she had been forced to mediate in her career as a Starfleet
diplomat, it was all in the eye contact and first impressions.
"Mr
Wickes," Mary planted herself in the chair across Wickes table when she
finally reached the man.
"Sally
honey," Wickes stared at the young woman on his lap and gestured at her to
leave. It was not a request. For her part, the young woman did not mind leaving
and as she lifted herself off Wickes, Mary had the distinct impression that she
was willing to go. When they were finally alone and the offers had stopped
because the clients of Mr Wickes' establishment knew better than to bid for a
woman who had captured the whoremaster's attention, Wickes regarded Mary once
again.
"Now
what can I do for your little lady?" He asked.
"It's
not what you can do for me Mr Wickes," Mary said breathlessly. "Its
what I can do for you."
"Really?"
One eyebrow arched even though they were both aware of what she was referring
to. "And what would that be?"
"All
the pleasure you or your clientele may desire." She smiled. "I do
everything and anything."
"Now
that is mighty interesting." Wickes leaned forward, enjoying the view he
got when he peered down her dress. "Tell me a little about yourself,
Miss?"
"Delilah."
Mary answered. "That's all the name I need. I was travelling in these
parts with a gent but he looks to have left me in something of a bind. I need
money and I heard that you could help a girl with my talents."
"I
may," Wickes' grin seemed broader and once again, Mary felt that flush of
disgust wash through her. "It depends on how good you are."
"Well,"
Mary braced herself and reached for his hand. She lifted one digit to her lips
and proceeded to suck the finger with slow, languid flicks of her tongue. He
tasted of ash and booze and Mary surprised herself by now gagging there and
then. She saw Wickes respond to her ministrations and knew that he was taken in
by her act, or at least putting up an extremely good show if he was not.
Unfortunately, there would be no way to know for certain until they were alone
in his tent. "Maybe we can go somewhere and talk about this some more?"
She cocked a brow suggestively.
"I
think that can be arranged." Wickes retorted and immediately pushed
himself off the stool he had been seated on. "Come with me darling and we
can talk about your 'qualifications'."
**********
Mary
followed Wickes back to his tent, which was located on some tents away from
where she had caught his eye. As she moved through the meandering path through
the rag tag collections of tents, she tried to spy if Chris and the others were
about. However, there were so many people around that it was almost impossible
to distinguish their faces through the crowd and Mary hoped earnestly that they
were indeed there because she had no intention of getting any more personal
with Wickes than she had already. As it was, it would take a week to wash the
taste of him from her lips.
Wickes
himself gave no indication that the ruse she had perpetrated upon him was a
failure and Mary hoped that she was able to maintain the charade for just a
little longer until the time was ripe to spring their trap. Despite the
reassuring knowledge that Chris and the others were keeping close eye on her as
she followed Wickes back to his tent, she could not help feeling a little
apprehensive about being alone with this man. She had seen the girl that had
emerged earlier with those terrible injuries to her face and knew that her
wounds ran deeper than the ones that could be seen on her skin. Her stomach
hollowed in disgust at the assault the girl must have suffered at this man's
hand and was glad at the weapon strapped to the inside of her thigh.
The inside
of Wickes private tent did not look very different from that of the one she had
been when she had liberated her present costume but it did have a proper bed
unlike the fold up cots she had spied in the others. She supposed being the
master of this place allowed him such luxuries. She noted a few pieces of
furniture but nothing that showed he had any real attachment to the place. Mary
hid her anxiousness as she saw Wickes go to one of the tables next to the bed and
pour them both glasses of whiskey from the bottle that he had laid there.
"Here
we are Miss Delilah." He turned around and handed her a glass.
Mary was
just about to reach for it when suddenly; he splashed the drink into her face
before she knew what was happening. The liquid stung her eyes and made her
recoil, robbing her of vision long enough for him to throw a balled fist into
her face. Mary felt knuckles against her cheek and tumbled back into the bed,
uttering a small cry of pain as her body sunk into the mattress. Through the
stupor of pain, she heard Wickes hissing.
"You
stupid bitch!" He snarled. "You take me for a fool? I know you're Larabee's whore!"
Mary was
not listening, her hands were fumbling beneath her dress, trying desperately to
reach the gun strapped to her thigh when she felt Wickes body climbing onto her
own, pinning her under his weight. His hand slipped between the folds of her
dress, trying to reach the gun first. Mary struggled hard to keep that end from
taking place but was not capable of getting to it before he did. However,
during their struggles, she did manage to score something of a victory, when
she knocked the weapon out of his hand and it tumbled to the ground, out of
reach of both of them.
"Whore!"
He screamed enraged and hit her again, this time connecting with her jawline.
Mary felt
a surge of rage overtaking her and she snapped her head back and glared at him.
Staring him full in the face, she calmed herself and spoke with a low voice.
"I have had just enough of you."
Mustering
every ounce of strength she could, Mary twisted her body hard. She could not
throw Wickes off but her momentum and his weight allowed her to dislodge him
and he felt next to her on the mattress. Mary did not waste any time and
flipped onto her feet from the bed. Wiping the blood running down her lip, Mary
threw one controlled punch at Wickes whom was starting to sit up. The blow
caught him in the jaw and his face reddened in fury at her audacity to strike
him. Mary did not care; she threw a series of blows to his face and some to his
thick gut, which had little or no muscle control. His arms were flaying as he
tried to fight back in his sitting position. Her attack kept him from standing
up or rushing at her with brute force.
She paused
long enough to give him the chance however, when she decided to go for the gun,
which fell into her line of sight. Taking no chances, Mary dove for the weapon,
just as Wickes stood up from his bed and charged her.
"I'll
kill you!" He roared. His eyes wide and frenzied.
She
dropped to her knees, allowing his forward momentum to topple him over her
body. She heard his outrage howl just as he crumpled in a messy heap but
ignored it as she wrapped her hand around her gun and took aim. Wickes growled
loudly, snarling like an animal about to tear its prey to pieces. Although Mary
had the gun, she was plenty scared and reacted without thinking.
The first
bullet exploded out of the barrel and struck him in the knee. Correcting her
aim in time to pull the trigger again, she fired. This time the bullet lodged
higher, in his stomach. Wickes was starting to scream as his knee shattered and
he was driven to his feet, blood gushing from dual wounds. Mary did not stop
firing. She pulled the trigger again and again, watching him dance in pain as
the bullets tore through his body one after the other. She did not pause until
all of them had been discharged and the loud click of an empty chamber seemed
louder than the screams she heard outside and the frantic sounds of approaching
voices.
Wickes did
not utter any more sounds after the third bullet and by the time he finally
stopped moving and she had emptied the entire contents of the gun into his
body, he was almost bathed in red. Blood was flowing freely, oozing through his
clothes and saturating the dirt with its viscosity.
For a few
seconds, Mary did not know what to do. Her hands were shaking and she felt her
stomach heaving in such protest, she thought she might wretch. She had never
killed another creature in her life and this first experience was not one she
wished to repeat any time soon. Even though, Wickes was a truly disgusting
specimen, given life where he should have remained an aspect of fiction, Mary
regretted that she had been forced to kill him. When she recovered, she stood
up shakily and made her way to the tent flap, emerging just long enough into
the sunlight to feel a hand clenching around her arm and dragging out the rest
of the way.
"What
have you done!" The man who was obviously Wickes bodyguard demanded.
"Let
me go!" Mary protested weakly and saw a crowd had appeared before,
demanding retribution for what she had done.
"She
killed Wickes!" Someone from behind her shouted.
"You
bitch!" Her captor swore and rose his gun to fire.
A single
gunshot erupted to stop him, while at the same time silencing the rumblings
around the room. Mary looked up and saw Chris not far from her, aiming his
peacemaker at the direction of the man who intended to harm her. As she scoured
the rest of the compound before her, she saw Vin, Buck and JD taking up similar
positions. From where they were, anyone who attempted to shoot her or fire at
them would have reason to regret it.
"Let...her...go."
Chris Larabee's icy voice demanded as he glared at
the man holding her.
"She
killed our boss." The man responded in turn. "She's gotta pay."
"Judging
by the bruises on the lady's face," Buck added. "It looks like self
defense to me."
"She
had a gun!" He retorted, not about to release Mary just yet.
Chris
could see he would take just a little more convincing. This was fine by him
because Chris could be very persuasive when he chose to be. "I have a gun
and I'll shoot you just as dead as your boss if you don't take your hands off
her now." Just for effect, Chris cocked his gun and narrowed his gaze as
he sharpened his aim on the target.
Mary saw
her captor swallowing hard. There were beads of sweat on his forehead as he
tried to gauge whether or not Chris would actually fire. It did not take long
before the infamous Larabee glare won out and he
released her reluctantly. She let out a sigh of relief and immediately pulled
away from the men, walking slowly towards Chris.
"Q!"
Chris shouted. "We're done playing your game!"
"What
are you talking about?" Wickes' bodyguard asked with genuine puzzlement.
Chris
ignored him, certain that the omnipotent entity was hiding in the crowd
somewhere. Seeing the blood on Mary's face made him smolder with increased
anger, already running hot torrents through him because of Julia Pemberton.
"Do you hear me you son of a bitch!" Chris shouted on top of his
voice and further sent Wickes' men and the present population of this facsimile
world into deeper confusion. "We're through playing your puppets! We're
not going to play your game any more! Its over!"
Suddenly,
the face of Wickes' bodyguard altered from what it was and the man who stared
back at Chris looking nothing like him. Q stared at Chris with a decidedly
amused expression on his face and remarked rather innocently. "Well to
tell you the truth Captain Larabee, it hasn't been my
game you've been playing."
Chapter Fifteen
"You're
Q?" Mary stopped walking and swung around to face the being that had only
seconds ago, been the bodyguard of the repulsive Mr Wickes.
"My
reputation proceeds me." Q smiled as she approached him. "Has Jean
Luc regaled with stories of my exploits? Do tell, please. I'm dying to know if
I make good theatre."
"Good
theatre!" Mary exclaimed in outrage. "After what you have put us
through?"
"Mary,"
Chris broke through the crowd who seemed to have forgotten all about the murder
of Mr Wickes and appeared to be content with simply observing the bizarre
goings on taking place before them. While he shared her consternation at the
entity who had finally deigned to show itself, he was under no illusions of
just how dangerous Q could be. This was a being that could turn them all into
amoebas should he so decide. "Let me do the talking." He said when he
reached her.
"Yes,"
Q agreed with gusto. "Let the Captain do the talking. After all, you're
merely the token love interest. Did you not know that Blondie?" He grinned
at her with a truly triumphant smirk that almost made Mary forget herself
because she really wanted to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face.
"Still,"
Q continued, enjoying the discomfiture and confusion of those around him
immensely. "We do need to talk so let us dispense with the audience."
With that, he snapped his fingers and the crowd disappeared around them,
leaving Wickestown suddenly deserted with the senior
staff of the Maverick, the only inhabitants of the infamous bordello town.
"Wow."
JD could not help but exclaim as he saw everyone disappearing with a flash of
light. This was the most amazing thing he had ever seen since coming on board
the Maverick and despite the seriousness of the situation, could not hide his
awe.
"Now,
there's a lad who enjoys good theatre." Q appeared at his side in a blink
of an eye. "I had no idea they recruited so young out of the Academy. Why
compared to me, you're not even primordial ooze."
"Omnipotent
and charming," Buck found himself coming to JD's rescue when he saw his
young charge frown with annoyance at having his age pointed out so blatantly.
Q turned
his attention to the first officer and vanished with just as much speed,
appearing next to Buck but not as himself but in the rather curvaceous form of
a blond siren, ample curves filling in a scanty dress as she puckered her red
lips at him with suggestion. "Is this better, Buck?"
"Don't
flatter yourself." Buck retorted with a scowl which only drew laughter
from Q who reverted back to his original form.
"But
we're not all here are we?" Q said returning his attention to the captain
once more.
"You
saw to that." Chris responded, feeling his anger bubble to the surface
thinking of how they had discovered Julia and the anguish in Ezra's eyes the
security chief had tried so hard to hide. "You brought us here. You want
to tell us why?"
"Once
again, I am blamed for everything." Q sighed. "I am not responsible
for this you know."
"Oh
really?" Mary glared at him, arms folded in distaste. "You know of
someone else who could transplant us into this 'place'?"
"This
place seemed to suit you when it was all fun and games, when the odds were
stacked in your favour. Come on Chris," Q looked
at the captain with challenge. "That's not what you're about. I was always
impressed because unlike stodgy old Jean Luc and I do not exaggerate when I say
that, you were fun. You knew how to let your hair down, something else that
Jean Luc is truly incapable of doing."
Chris
rolled his eyes, not liking his assessment of Jean Luc Picard who was something
of a hero to Chris. "The fun in this whole affair bled away the minute we
found that one of us was dead."
"Oh
that," Q mused as if he had completely forgotten that Julia had been
murdered. His obliviousness to it all infuriated Chris to no end. "That
was unfortunate but your species dies all the time, one more in the here and
now doesn't really matter all that much does it?"
"It
matters to us." Vin declared. "You had no right to place her in that
situation. No one deserved to die that way."
Q regarded
the Vulcan for the first time. "Why you're rather hot blooded for a Vulcan
aren't you?" He gave Vin a quick look before returning to Chris with a
nasty smile. "Watch out when that Pon Farr hits, he's going to be a real charmer with the
ladies."
"Knock
it off!" Chris snapped, his patience finally reaching its limits.
"You brought us here and you made us dance to your tune, what the hell do
you really want?"
"Little
ol' me?" Q stared at him, holding his breast as if wounded by the
accusation. "I see that delightful banter is not your forte' Captain so I
will get to the point."
"Please
do," Chris sighed.
"I am
not responsible for your little trip." Q answered.
"You
said that already," Buck retorted. "You'll forgive us if we don't
trip over ourselves believing you."
"Go
on," Chris said abruptly, signaling Buck to be silent because he had a
feeling that Q might be telling the truth. All the reports he read on the
entity had told Chris one thing clearly enough, as annoying and dangerous as Q
might be, while he sometimes did not tell the whole truth, he was not
completely prone to lying either.
"You
like me." Q suddenly realised and beamed
brightly. "You do!"
Chris did
not know why or how, but he did. If it were not for his dead chief engineer,
the entire situation might have been somewhat amusing and Q, though annoying
and irritating was one of those personalities that one could not help like even
if he was to be taken in small doses. "I'm as a shocked as you, so get on
with it."
"We're
going to be life long pals," Q appeared at his side and threw an arm over
his shoulder.
"Oh
god." Mary groaned. "Please just get to the point!"
"Don't
worry," Q grinned at her, "you'll still get to bring us pork rinds
and beer during Monday night football."
"Monday
night what?" JD asked.
"Alright!"
Chris barked. "Everybody shut up!" Without giving anyone a chance to
say anything else, Chris yanked Q's arm and demanded. "What the hell is
going on?"
"Oh
all right," Q sighed, exaggerating his distress that he was being called
out. "Since you feel the need to be so antagonistic, I will put you out of
your misery but only because we're friends."
"Thank
you." Chris answered sarcastically.
"But
first we all need to be here." Q declared again and snapped his fingers.
Out of thin air, Ezra, Josiah, Nathan and Alex appeared on the scene. All four
were understandably confused when they saw the captain and their fellow
officers around them.
"What
the hell...." Alex managed once she realised
where they were in comparison to where they had been.
"For
those tuning in." Buck said helpfully to the new arrivals. "That's
Q." He pointed at the entity standing next to Chris.
"That's
Q?" Nathan looked at the man taking centre stage and enjoying it. He
certainly did not look like an alien entity that was capable of causing so much
mischief.
Josiah on
the other hand was more concerned with how Ezra was going to take this news.
After what the Counselor had seen the security chief do to Poplar, it was a
valid concern. Ezra for his part, turned sharply in the direction of Q as soon
as Buck had made the introduction.
Ezra's
eyes widened. "Q? You're Q?"
"I
must be the subject of conversation everywhere," Q gushed, "Jean Luc
is truly wasted as a starship captain, I should employ him as my press
agent."
Without
saying another word, Ezra launched himself at Q and would have reached the
entity if Vin had not stepped in and bodily restrained him. Josiah had made the
move but fortunately Vin was closer and more equal to the task of ensuring that
Ezra did not get any further than he had already. "Ezra! Get a hold of
yourself!" With his Vulcan strength, he was more than capable of
preventing Ezra from doing anything that would get himself killed, which was
more or less what would happen if he attempted to attack such a powerful
creature like Q.
"Get
a hold of yourself?" Ezra shouted staring at Vin incredulity. He stopped
fighting to get through the Vulcan because Vin was more than capable of keeping
him pinned if he got it into his mind to do so. However, that did not lessen
the rage that Ezra felt towards the creature who had brought them to this place
and put Julia in the hands of Silas Poplar. "That son of a bitch killed
Julia!"
"Sticks
and stones," Q shrugged as if the words were nothing before turning to
Chris. "I see that I am to get nowhere with you people until I sort this
little matter out." Without pausing to elaborate, Q snapped his finger
once more.
And Julia
was standing before them.
There was
no evidence of the beating that had taken her life. She was clad not in the
period costume of the day but rather in her chief engineer's uniform and she
was most definitely alive as she stared at all of them, as if having woken up
from a really bad dream.
"Julia."
Mary gasped.
"What
happened?" She asked when she blinked. "I remember Poplar hitting
me." She started to speak, feeling as if her throat were terribly dry and
was in severe need of a drink. "And everything went black."
"Julia."
Ezra broke free from Vin's distracted hold and took a step towards her, his
heart flooding with such a profound sense of joy and relief that he was not
quite able to manage any more than that. He had not realised
how much he had loved her until she was lost and never felt so grateful for
anything than to see her before him.
"Ezra,"
Julia broke into a smile, remembering how frightened she had been when Poplar
was doing his worst, in that final moment when she thought she was going to die
and had understood that the enmity between them was foolishness, that nothing
ought to matter if she truly loved him. And she did. She crossed the space
between them before she was even aware of her legs were moving and felt lighter
than air when Julia felt Ezra's arms around her body, pulling her close.
"I
love you." He whispered as he held her in his embrace, almost terrified to
let her go because the memory of that broken body in the street was still fresh
in his mind. "Whatever has between us, I am sorry. I should have known and
I swear I will never hurt you again."
"No,"
she shook her head as she looked into his face and saw tears of happiness
running down his cheeks, not entirely understanding them but completely certain
of the fact that he loved her. "It wasn't your fault, you couldn't have
known it was not me. I shouldn't have behaved the way I did."
"Neither
should I," Ezra replied, prepared to admit to anything because he was just
so happy that she was back with him. "I am sorry for what I did."
"No I
am......" Julia responded.
Neither
cared at all that they had an audience until Q began making retching noises.
"Oh you humans and your cheap sentimentality." He shook his head in
disgust.
"Considering
it was you who caused this sentimental reunion," Ezra pulled away from
Julia long enough to retort. "I think you can endure it for a
moment."
"I?"
Q returned automatically. "Had nothing to do with this."
"So
you said," Chris answered, returning to the matter at hand. However, he
had to admit, he was not as angry as he had been after seeing Julia brought
back to them and witnessing the warm reunion between her and Ezra had soften
his disposition towards Q somewhat. Besides, he was starting to believe that Q
really was telling the truth about not having anything to do with their being
here, which only begged the question, who did? "Mind telling us who it is
responsible for this if it wasn't you?"
"Since
you asked so nicely," Q answered and glanced at Mary. "I do believe
you know him, Blondie."
"Call
me that one more time....." Mary started to warn when suddenly all speech
left her throat at another flash of light which materialized Billy in front of
her.
"Billy!"
Mary exclaimed as her son appeared before all of them.
Billy
immediately turned to his mother and started for her, bounding across the
distance and more than happy to let her hug him when they finally reached each
other.
"What
is he doing here?" Chris demanded, starting to get angry again. What game
did Q think he was playing by accusing Billy of this entire situation.
"Now,
now Christopher." Q replied, completely aware of the rising anger inside
the human before him. "Before you go get upset again, I must confess that
young Master Billy was not exactly alone in his responsibility for bringing you
all here. He had help."
Two more
figures appeared amongst them and Chris was fast reaching the point where only
a good stiff drink was going to kill the headache that was forming inside his
head. The new arrivals this time, were a woman and another child. Both were
clad in Starfleet uniforms, even the child whose clothes seemed to be tailored
made to suit. The woman was tall, with a mane of fiery red hair and had the
look of one of those old Celtic maidens from the Scottish highlands while the
boy was a tow headed with inquisitive colored eyes and a rather somber
expression.
"Q,"
the woman said folding her arms impatiently. "Will you please get on with
this. Quinn has spent all together too much time in the company of these humans,
its time for him to get to bed. As it is, he is
learning too many bad habits from [i[ that
child." She looked at Billy with clear disapproval, an action which
offended her to no end.
"My
son has no bad habits." Mary retorted defensively.
"Well
Quinn certainly did not conjure up this entire fiasco on his own." Miss Q
returned sharply.
"Wait
a minute," Buck cut in. "Are you saying that kid is
responsible for all this?"
"Partially
responsible," Miss Q immediately pointed out. "Your protocol
officer's son filled his head with silly notions about cowboys and the rest as
they say is history."
"But
you said I could find someone to play with." Quinn whined.
"Well
you were certainly not playing when I found you," the boy's mother
interrupted. "They were fighting."
"It
was his fault!" Both boys pointed at each other in unison.
"Explain
Billy." Mary made her son look at her.
Billy
swallowed and looked at his audience nervously before regarding the bruises on
his mother and deciding that he was just happy that she was not dead or injured
any worse than she already was.
"We
were playing, he asked me what I liked to do and I told him about Buck's
program. He said that it was like a holodeck, that no
one could get hurt really but when something bad happened to Julia, I tried to
make him stop but he wouldn't." Billy explained.
"So
that gave you leave to hit my son?" Miss Q asked sharply.
"Considering
what he was doing," Mary came quickly to her son's defense. "Its something you ought to be doing to give him some
discipline."
"My
son is a member of the Q continuum. He is a special child!" Miss Q
challenged with as much ferocity.
"I'm
the only child!" Quinn shouted. "Its lonely!"
Everyone
fell silent and looked at him as he went to Billy. "I thought you were my
friend. I thought we were having a good time."
"We
were having a good time," Billy replied, appreciating how Quinn felt all
too well. "But I don't want to see anyone getting hurt. You killed
Julia!"
"What?"
Julia exclaimed.
"We'll
explain later." Ezra said quietly and allowed the conversation between the
two boys to continue.
"She
would have been better," Quinn answered. "I would have made her
better."
"I
didn't know that!" Billy answered. "It’s not the same for us. When we
die, we don't come back."
Q
approached his son and lifted the boy into his arms. "Quinn," the
entity's voice became devoid of the sarcastic tone that was usual with all his
speech. "Humans are very different from what we are. The little Vulcan is
correct, when their life ceases, it simply does. It is not to be toyed with, by
us most of all, but ought to be extinguished in its own time, as its destiny
dictates. We are forever, that's what being omnipotent and immortal is all
about. That's why we have to be very careful when dealing with humans."
"I
didn't understand." Quinn said softly. "I only wanted a friend to
play with."
"We
can play," Billy quickly spoke up, finally realizing why it was Quinn had
been so obtuse about what he had been trying to tell him. How does one explain
death to a being who never has to fear it? He was a child himself and he had
trouble understanding it let alone trying to impress it upon someone else.
"We just gotta be a little more careful."
"I
don't know Billy." Mary was dubious about this entire friendship. After
all the damage that had been caused already, she did not know whether it was
wise to let it continue.
"I
agree." Miss Q responded, feeling Mary's doubt herself. "This human
child is rather fragile and who knows what other bad habits you may pick
up."
"Hey,
my child isn't the one who can turn the universe upside down with a snap of his
fingers." Mary said hotly.
"Which
simply proves his inferiority...." Miss Q answered back in turn.
"Ladies!"
Chris barked, silencing them both. "Let's get a grip here. Personally I
can't tell either of you what to do but Mary, we can't always pick our kids’
friends for them and Billy's smart enough to know what's right and wrong, don't
you?" The captain glanced at the young boy with a little smile. At both
young boys actually. As much of a mess as this whole situation had turned out
to be, Chris could not deny that he was could understand loneliness and
sometimes the best friendships came from the ones borne out of adversity.
Mary let
out a sigh and looked at her son. "Is that what you want Billy?"
"Yes
mother." He nodded, giving Chris and Quinn a smile as he did so. For his
part, Quinn stared at his own mother with a pleasured grin which disarmed the Q
female considerably.
"I am
assuming of course," Chris looked at Q. "That your son will be
schooled in some basic safety procedures when dealing with mortals?"
"My
son is omnipotent," Miss Q said proudly. "I am certain that he will
have no trouble keeping his playmate safe."
"Hell,
this has been one seriously weird day." Buck exclaimed.
"No
kidding." Vin agreed and several others who felt the same way joined in
his response.
Chris took
a step towards Quinn, feeling himself unable to be angry at the child who
reminded him so much of another that it almost hurt. Dropping to his knees so
that he could look Quinn in the eye, Chris took a deep breath and responded.
"Next time you want to play cowboys? Ask first."
"Really?"
Quinn's pleasure was obvious.
"Really."
Chris nodded and then looked at Vin and the others. "I think we can
accommodate the young man can't we?"
Ezra did
not answer at first but upon examining his feelings, found that could not hold
a grudge when Julia was returned to him and things between them had were right
again. "I suppose so but with a little schooling in basic safety
protocols." The security chief gave the boy a hard stare.
"Well
it was sort of fun, when people weren't dying." JD agreed.
"Speak
for yourself." Alex shook her head, deciding that she would never like
this program.
"Alex
it will grow on you." Vin tried to convince her otherwise and garnered a
dark glare for his efforts.
"You
hope." Nathan chuckled dubiously.
Chris
noted that Q was staring at him. "You surprise me Captain." Unlike
before, there was no trace of the impish smirk or mischief making persona but
rather a more serious and thoughtful expression. Q appeared as if he were
staring at Chris in a new light.
Chris'
brow shot up. "How so?"
"You're
surprisingly tolerant." Q remarked, impressed by the kindness shown by
this human to his son. Jean Luc was normally so adversarial and poor Kathy
trapped in the Delta Quadrant was always cautious but he could tell that Chris
was not so close-minded.
"I
had a son once." Chris revealed. "I wouldn't like him to be lonely
any more than you like your own son being isolated."
"Your
son," Q nodded. "I remember. The one who was murdered along with your
wife."
Chris'
eyes widened as he stared at Q. "What?" His voice was almost a
strangled whisper. "What did you say?"
"Consider
this revelation my gift of thanks," Q replied as he prepared to send all
these humans back to their ship, now that matters had been righted as much as
they could be. "Your wife and son were murdered. The shuttle accident was
no accident, it was premeditated."
"By
whom?" Chris forced himself to ask.
Unfortunately,
Q was not about to answer and his only response to Chris' request was another
snap of his fingers.
***********
Chris
blinked as the bright light dissipated out of his eyes and he found himself on
the bridge of the Maverick. He was in his command chair, wearing his own
uniform, with no trace of the black garments he had worn in the Magnificent
Seven simulation that Quinn had created. At the helm control, Vin was seated at
his station, staring at him with just as much bewilderment as Buck who was
placed next to him and Mary who was also out of her red dress was displaying.
JD too looked similarly confused at his station and Chris did not have to turn
around to see Julia, Ezra and Alex at their usual positions on the bridge. Only
Billy, Josiah and Nathan were standing up, having no specific place on the
bridge since most of their duties were carried out in their respective offices.
"Vin,"
Chris found voice enough to speak once the shock of returning to his bridge had
faded from his mind. "What's our heading?"
Vin blinked, shaking his own disorientation away as his eyes dropped to the
console screen before him. His brows furrowed at the readings and when he
looked at Chris, his confusion showed. "We're still on course for Antaria, at the exact position we were when we disappeared
off the bridge."
"Captain!"
Alex spoke up. "I've just checked in with a subspace beacon. We're at the
same point in time as when we left. According to the ship's chronometers and
computer bio readings, we never left the ship."
"How
is that possible?" Mary exclaimed shocked. There was on traces of the
bruises on her skin inflicted upon her by Mr Wickes prior to her killing him.
That at least gave Chris some comfort. Nothing else did.
"Easy
enough when we're dealing with an omnipotence who can bring the dead back from
life and create an entire world from fiction." Josiah pointed out.
"Yeah,"
Chris nodded as Q's last words returned to haunt him. "Easy enough."
Epilogue
Captain's
Logs Stardate 16.25.02 - It has been a day since our
return from that strange place fashioned by Q to mirror the world of the
Magnificent Seven. As far as the ship was concerned, none of the crewmembers
involved in the incident were registered as having left at all. In the
meantime, we have arrived on Antaria as scheduled,
where Lieutenant Travis is taking care of the preliminary requirements to begin
the treaty negotiations between the two opposing factions. I will be expected
to join her on the surface when the preparations are completed and the real
work of diplomacy begins. The Maverick is now in a holding position above the Antarian home world and I have left Commander Wilmington in
temporary command of the bridge.
For
those of us who remember, the past day has left profound effects on all of us
even if no one remembers that we were ever gone. No doubt many will be
mystified by the sudden reconciliation by Commander Standish and Lieutenant
Pemberton who have requested some personal time and since there is no immediate
urgency that requires them at their posts, I have granted it. Besides, after
what both of them had been through, they deserve the time alone. Presently, it
is estimated that they have been locked in Commander Standish' quarters for the
last 16 hours, I am assuming that they will come up for air some time.
For
myself, the implications of what went on are deep, in particular the words left
to me from Q. Was he toying with me, or did he really believe that the truth he
supposedly revealed was a kindness? I do not know for certain. What I do know
is that a seed has been planted in my head and where it will lead me I do not
know but I have to follow it.
I have
to know if Q was lying or was Sarah and Adam really murdered.
********
Chris did
not know how long he was staring into space when he heard the door of his ready
room chime. However, the sound took a few seconds to penetrate his
consciousness before he finally recovered enough to utter a weak welcome to
whoever was waiting entry. The door opened and Buck Wilmington walked into the
room, pausing a foot away from this desk and observing him closely. Chris noted
the expression on his face and immediately felt guilty even though he was not
certain why he should be.
Perhaps it
was the collection of data pads on this desk, the uneaten lunch that Yeoman
Wells had brought him some hours ago, or just the darkness that had been
prevalent in his eyes ever since they had returned from the facsimile world
that Q had created for them. Buck could not say exactly but he knew something
was terribly wrong for it reminded him too much of the look in Chris' eyes when
Sarah and Adam's death was fresh in his mind. The memory gave Buck good cause
for worry because he had seen how hell bent Chris had been on self-destruction
and their friendship had not survived it. They were friends still but not they
way they were long ago. What Chris shared with Vin Tanner was closer to what he
and Buck had once had than the pale remnants that existed between them now.
Buck had accepted the loss, knowing that to save Chris from himself there had
to be sacrifices.
"What
is it?" Chris asked shortly, his tone clearly indicating he did not like
the intrusion.
"I
just got a call from the surface." Buck said trying not to stare at the
data pads or let his curiosity about them show.
Chris was
seated in his chair, staring into the stars outside his window when he replied.
"So?"
Buck
shrugged uncomfortably, aware now that something was terribly wrong but
uncertain how to approach Chris about it. In the past it was a simple enough
matter to do so when they were friends but now, with Chris as his captain, the
nature of their relationship that change quite a bit. While there was some
informality in their manner towards each other, Buck was painfully aware of the
line he could not cross. Buck cleared his throat and measured how he should
respond in light of Chris' obviously bad mood and decided that the mission was
too important for him to mince words.
"You
were expected on the planet an hour ago." Buck retorted.
Chris
blinked and swiveled around in his chair. "Damn." He swore under his
breath as he noted the time on the chronometer at the corner of his desk and realised that Buck was right. Chris sat up immediately,
"why didn't you tell me?"
"I
was under the impression that I did not have to tell you." Buck answered.
"Under usual circumstances, you're quite reliable."
"I am
still reliable." Chris growled and started gathering the data pads into
some sort of discernible order.
"Chris,"
Buck took a deep breath and plunged into a world of trouble but knew not what
else to do. Something was clearly bothering Chris and had been doing so ever
since they returned to the bridge. "What's going on? I have never known
you to be late for anything. You're more aware than I am about how important
these meetings on Antaria are. Mary's furious that
you're not there already. We've known each other too long to play games, so
tell me. What is it?"
Chris let
out a deep breath, feeling the need to confide in someone and surely Buck of
all people would understand what he was going through, after all Buck had been
there at the time and he may know something that Chris had missed. "Before
we were sent back, Q told me he was giving a little gift for being so tolerant
to his son."
Buck had
missed hearing the content of the conversation between the two although he knew
words were exchanged prior to their return to the Maverick. "What was the
gift?" Buck responded, almost afraid to ask.
Chris
swallowed the lump in his throat. "He said that it was not an accident.
That Adam and Sarah had been murdered."
The light
of understanding flooded Buck's eyes and he whispered softly. "Jesus.
Chris, you can't possibly believe that he's telling the truth."
"He
said it was a gift!" Chris barked. "Why would he lie about something
like that?"
"Why
not?" Buck returned just as sharply. "Look at you! You've had this
idea in your head for less than a day and look how it's affecting you! He's
playing with you Chris!"
"I
don't think he is!" Chris protested. "What if its true Buck? What if
the shuttle accident wasn't an accident?"
"Who
would want to kill Sarah and Adam, Chris?" Buck retaliated, seeing how
much the idea had taken root in his captain's head by just the very suggestion
of it and frankly it terrified Buck.
"I
don't know," Chris retorted defensively. "But I've been going over
the reports." He gestured to the data pads before him. "I found
something."
"What?"
Buck asked, not really believing it, more inclined to think that this was just
an extension of a sick game that Q was playing with Chris' mind.
"After
they died," Chris swallowed hard, needing desperately to convince someone
so he would not feel like he was going insane. "I didn't look at these
reports. I didn't see any point in it. You remember what I was like back
then."
Buck did
remember and it was his memory of those events that made him so concerned for
Chris now. "I remember." He said softly.
"Well
according to this," he handed Buck the data pad, which the first officer
took reluctantly. "There was some unexplained energy spike before the
crash. They don't know what caused it and did not pay much attention to it
because it was not the primary cause of the explosion. As we know the plasma
seals breached and the containment shield around the anti-matter dropped
prematurely."
Buck studied
the report and although some mention was made about the spike, the engineer who
did the investigation chose not to pursue it because the cause of the accident
had been clearly determined. However, Buck also could see there was just enough
ambiguity in the existence of this mysterious spike to give fuel to Chris'
suspicion that the accident might have been the result of foul play. "It
says here that it might have just been a defective power chip. It's not
uncommon and relatively harmless, certainly not enough to cause an anti-matter
breach."
"But
what it did?" Chris demanded. "What if someone did cause that spike
and it somehow did cause the breach?"
"Chris!"
Buck declared. "Let it go."
Chris
stared at Buck as if he was insane. "How can you ask me to do that?"
"Because
I'm your friend. They're dead Chris. Nothing can bring them back. Q may have
been able to snap his fingers to bring Julia back but that is not going to
happen with Sarah and Adam. They're gone. I miss them too and more than
anything I wish they were here for you but this is going to hurt you more than
you know." Buck was almost pleading and as he saw the revulsion in Chris'
eyes at the thought of giving up, he knew that he had failed.
Chris
stared at him with an expression of ice and whispered. "If they were
murdered, if they were taken from me, I will tear this universe a part trying
to find who did it and there is no way I will stop I find the truth."
With that,
Buck knew that it was the truth and there was nothing more to say.
**********
Despite
the fact that Lilith King was still sick in bed and his mother was no longer on
board the Maverick; Billy Travis did not feel neglected or alone. He had
thought the senior staff would be mad at him because of what he and Quinn had
put them through but they had been surprisingly understanding even though the
captain seemed a little preoccupied. Billy had spent some time with Vin and
Alex today horse back riding, which was infinitely more pleasing to the science
officer's disposition than the Magnificent Seven simulations whether or not
produced by the holodeck or Quinn. Still, Billy could
not help deny missing the company of the new friend he had made, despite all
the trouble that had come from their association.
Besides,
Quinn had really neat parents.
As Billy
now understood it, Quinn was the first child born to the Q Continuum ever.
Before Quinn, the Q simply were but with his birth, other members of the
Continuum learnt that they were just as much a part of the cycle of creation
and death as the rest of the creatures in the universe. Of course, with the Q,
death was purely a matter of personal choice. Billy could not imagine a time
when he would ever wish to die but apparently some members of the Q desired it
after they had experienced everything there was to experience. Even an evolved
Vulcan mind like Billy's could not truly comprehend what the Q considered to be
everything but he assumed it was a lot. Quinn himself had been named
after Quinn, the first member of the Continuum who chose to voluntarily die. He
had been something of a radical and a hero to the Q that had plagued the
Billy made
his way to Holodeck 2 where he would be having his
next lesson on surfing, courtesy of Lieutenant Rain who was so much fun to be
around, it was hard to believe she was adult sometimes. However, Lilith had a
word that best described the transporter chief although Billy still felt a
little odd using it. Lilith called Rain, 'real cool.' As for surfing, Billy could
not discern what possible use the activity could be but he liked the water,
unaware that most Vulcans did not like engaging in
pastimes in the deep since native Vulcan had very little surface moisture. He
supposed it was another failing his paternal grand parents would point out when
they saw him again but brushed aside the concern for now since they were not
here.
"Hello."
Billy heard a voice beside him as he was walking down the corridor towards Holodeck 2.
"Quinn!"
Billy exclaimed with genuine pleasure seeing his newest friend, in very much
the same appearance and clothing as they had met initially.
"I
thought you might want to play." Quinn asked with a hint of hope in his
voice as he made the inquiry.
"Sure,"
Billy grinned, "your mom didn't mind?"
"No,"
Quinn shook his head. "My dad said he'd take care of it. What about yours?
Is she still mad?"
"No,"
The Vulcan shook his head in answer. "She's down on the planet talking to
the Antarians."
"Do
you want to go visit her?" Quinn asked. "I've never been to Antaria."
"You
can do that?" Billy gasped, still coming to grips with just how powerful
his friend was.
"Yeah,"
Quinn nodded. "I can. Do you want to go?"
"Better
not," Billy said quickly before Quinn sent them both to Antaria where he was certain his mother would not be
impressed at his sudden presence at her conference meeting with the delegates.
"She's working and if we show up, she'll be upset."
"Oh," Quinn said crestfallen, still coming to grips with this whole
notion of rules of conduct when it came to interacting with humans. However, he
liked Billy so he was going to try, having remembered what his father had said
about dealing with the species.
"Hey,"
Billy came up with an idea and looked at Quinn with a smile on his face.
"Ever been surfing?"
THE END