Chapter 5
Rom rubbed his eyes sleepily as he stumbled down the hallway from the bedroom to his study. He’d been awakened from a pleasant dream by the piercingly loud waah-waah-waah of an incoming message on the special comm dedicated exclusively to Extraordinary Pecuniary Prospects. Since Leeta had given Rom’s staff specific directions never to put through anything but an urgent communication to the nagal residence after 2300 hours, Rom couldn’t help but feel a tad anxious. Seating himself at his desk, he pushed a button on the gold-pressed latinum–plated computer and found himself addressing the image of Krax, his First Clerk. “Wh-what is it?”
“Your brother says he must speak with you immediately,” the former Nagus’s son reported sourly.
“Quark? Why would he be calling now? Doesn’t he know what time it is?”
“I don’t think he cares,” Krax responded. “He says it’s a life or”—Krax yawned loudly—“life or death situation.”
Rom broke into a cold sweat. “Life or death,” he repeated nervously. “Whose life or death?”
“Knowing Quark, probably his own,” Krax said. “Can I put him through so I can go back to bed?”
It was only then that Rom realized that Krax was wearing a nightshirt. “Um, okay. Put him through.”
A second later, he found himself staring at the grinning visage of his older brother.
“I have wonderful news, Rom!” Quark said cheerfully. “You’re going to be the most popular VIF on Ferenginar!”
Rom blinked. “Uhh, what do you mean, Brother?”
“You know how I was just a little concerned about how slowly the RSVPs for the dedication were coming in? Well, I just happened to mention it in passing to your very good friend Chief O’Brien, and the chief came up with a brilliant—well, brilliant for a hew-mon, anyway—suggestion about how to get everyone on the invitation list—all those other VIFs—to respond immediately! It’ll make you a hero, and you owe it all to your old friend!”
“The chief?” Rom said, confused. “What did the chief say?”
“He suggested that when you come to the station, you bring along the original scroll of the Rules of Acquisition. No one has seen it in years. We’ll put it on display, courtesy of the exalted Grand Nagus Rom.”
“Wait—what?” Rom’s bewilderment solidified into horror. “The original scroll? Brother, that’s locked away in the Vaults of Opulence. I can’t just go in there and take it. It’s priceless!”
Quark made a tsk-tsk sound. “Rom, Rom, Rom. You’re the Nagus, aren’t you? Everything is within your power. Frool—you remember Frool—was standing right next to me when O’Brien suggested it. He thought it was a sensational idea. Everyone in the bar thought it was a sensational idea.”
“Everyone in the bar?” Rom squeaked, his alarm growing. “Everyone heard about this?”
“Everyone,” Quark emphasized firmly. “And you wouldn’t want them to think that you’d pass up on a glorious opportunity like this, would you? You wouldn’t want the chief to think you felt it was beneath you to take the advice of your old mentor on the station. You wouldn’t want any of them to think that you were unable to exert the influence of your office. Or that you didn’t have the nerve. I mean, if you can’t make this kind of bold executive decision, what’s the point of even being the Nagus—let alone the Grand Nagus?”
“I—I—I don’t know. I should talk to Leeta about it.” As a rule, Rom never made any important decision without seeking Leeta’s advice.
Quark’s grin wavered. “Rom, I know that you love Leeta and that you . . . respect her opinion on domestic matters. But the simple fact is—she’s not a Ferengi. She can’t possibly understand how important this opportunity will be to other Ferengi. And to the embassy. Only you can make this decision.” He paused, providing a chance for that to sink in, then added, “And by the way—you need to make that decision right away. I have new and improved invitations to send out.”
It took a while longer, but when Rom at last signed off, Quark was smiling. Rom wasn’t sure what the look on his own face was, but that didn’t matter.
What mattered was how he was going to tell Leeta in the morning.