Chapter 21

“. . . and then the assassin fired this GIGANTIC energy blast at us. I don’t know if it was a hand disruptor or . . . or maybe a ship-mounted defensive device, but . . . it came from the direction of the shuttle—oh—did I mention that the assassin was in a shuttle?”

“Yes, you did, Nagus,” Quirk replied absently as he scrolled through financial crime files on his desk screen. “Several times.”

“Whatever it was, it was very powerful.” The nagus paced around Quirk’s office as he revisited the attack in his mind. “It reduced Gubbin to his molecular components. Mezzo, too.” He sighed deeply. “They deserved better.”

“I’m sure they didn’t suffer,” said Quirk. Considering they were both statues, he thought.

The nagus didn’t respond. He was still lost in thought about the incident. Then, after a moment, he said, “I wish Odo had let me go with him. I should have insisted. I’m sure I could have helped.”

“That would have been difficult,” Quirk commented as he double-checked a figure on the screen. “Seeing as he was . . . what did you say? ‘A really big bird.’ ”

“I know. But still—”

Suddenly a shrill chirping filled the room. Startled, Rom glanced up at the ceiling, as if expecting to see a Tarkalean condor hovering over his head.

“Relax,” said Quirk. “Just a communication alert.” The security consultant pressed the upper corner of his screen and a small comm window opened, revealing some lines of static that eventually resolved into Odo’s face.

“Constable—oh, excuse me—former Constable Odo! It’s good to see you in one piece.” Noting the puzzled expression on the shape-shifter’s face, Quirk explained, “The nagus was just telling me about that frightening encounter outside of Frin’s Fabulous Fortune. I’m happy to see that you survived. Do you have a report for me?”

“I do,” said Odo, his image fritzing slightly. “But I can’t talk for long.”

Rom looked up anxiously from across the room. “Is that Odo?”

“Shhhh,” Quirk said, glancing over his shoulder. He turned back to the screen and was about to resume the conversation when Rom raced around and tried to insert his face between Quirk’s face and the screen. Quirk responded by straight-arming the nagus to hold him back.

“But I need to ask Odo a question!” Rom insisted, pushing against Quirk’s restraining hand.

“It’s all right, Quirk,” said Odo. “Rom, I found Quark. He’s safe.”

“Oh! Oh, that’s . . . uh . . . wonderful, Odo,” said Rom. He leaned forward to study the onscreen image. “Umm . . . I was also wondering . . . how’s the visual feed?”

In truth, the image was a bit fuzzy, yet sharp enough for Quirk to see Odo roll his eyes. “It’s fine, Rom. I can see you both . . . although I still have no idea how this works. And no, don’t even try to explain it to me again.”

Rom broke into a broad grin. “Gee, that’s great! I actually invented something. Leeta will be so proud of me! I’ll have to contact a patent officer when this is over.”

Quirk shoved Rom out of his way. “You have information, Odo?”

“I’m sending you the coordinates now. You’re going to need a big paddy wagon for this lot, Quirk. In addition to Quark, there’ll be three goons. All part of the same crime family.”

“Three,” Quirk responded, surprised. The furrows in his brow deepened. “You’ve been busy.”

“I still am,” the shape-shifter replied. “I hope to be less busy by the time you arrive. I only have one of them on ice. I hope to have the rest of the family ready for company shortly. But try and step on it, will you?”

Odo signed off, and Rom studied the coordinates that he had provided. “That’s way up north,” he said. “The Eelwasser folks invited me up there once for a tour of their plant, but I said no. Too cold. Poor Quark. I’ll bet he hates it. But the important thing is, he’s safe!” Rom clapped his hands together and hopped up and down in excitement. “He’s safe! I’m going to get my brother back!”

Rom looked at Quirk, whose response was considerably more low key. He had just completed a series of inputs on his computer and was leaning back in his chair. Rom stopped hopping and waited for Quirk to say, “Let’s go!” But after a long moment of very little activity, he was still waiting. Finally, he stepped in front of the security consultant.

“Well?” he said.

“Well what?” responded Quirk.

“We’re leaving, right? I saw your security skimmer outside. That’ll impress them! Sooooo . . . let’s go!”

“Can’t,” said Quirk. “That little skimmer’s not made for the weather up north.”

Rom stared at him blankly, then said, “Well, okay. We can use my official shuttle. It’s parked in the back. It’s fast and tough and . . .”

“Forgive me, Nagus, but it’s a two-seater. Three if you wanted to get real cozy.”

“I don’t mind,” Rom replied. “Quark could sit on my lap. Or I could sit on his—”

“It’s not big enough, Nagus. Look,” he said, gesturing at his monitor, “you heard Odo. He’s found three dangerous, criminal Ferengi up there. And he found your brother. That makes four passengers. Plus our changeable friend, unless he’s planning to take the avian route home. And then there’s you and me. Accordingly, I have sent a message to an associate who’s in charge of the government vehicle pool. I told him we need a full-sized miscreant transport—I assume that’s what the constable meant by ‘paddy wagon’—so I can pick up everyone, and then drop off the miscreants at a Ferengi Acquisitional Educational Facility on the way back. The vehicle will be here in about half an hour.”

“A half hour?!”

“Yes. And by the way, I owe my associate a rather large sum for expediting my request. An invoice for your contribution already has been forwarded to your office.”

“But a half hour is too long!” Rom wailed. “Odo said to ‘step on it.’ The . . . uh . . . ‘goons’ could suddenly decide that Quark is no longer useful to them. I mean, you don’t know him. He’s not exactly the most ingratiating guest!”

“I suspect that it’s a family trait,” Quirk said softly before turning to look directly at the nagus. “Look, the situation is what it is. Why don’t you sit down and relax? Take a nap. Or sign in and conduct some important financial business—or whatever it is that naguses do these days.” Then he went back to studying the information on his monitor.

Rom stared at the security consultant for a moment with his lower jaw slack. Then he closed his mouth and tightened his lips in determination. “I . . . uh . . . I need to visit your ’fresher,” he said.

“Down the hall, just before you get to the back door,” Quirk offered without taking his eyes off his screen. “And please—take your time.”

Rom nodded and strode purposely from the office, down the hall . . . and then out the back door. Climbing into his official nagal vehicle, he entered the coordinates he’d memorized into the shuttle’s navigation system.

“I’m coming, Brother,” he said, feeling a thrill of excitement run through him as he said it. “I’m coming now. Next stop: Upper Bowog Bay.”