Wounds - Book 2 Read Online Free PDF

and come undone. It was a kind of letting go. Of restraint and inhibition, yes, but also of her past: her life in Starfleet and on the da Vinci. Commander Selden. Julian Bashir. Dobrah. And why not? They were gone. She couldn’t change the past, and she had to stop wishing for a better one. So she let it all go. She slipped her arms about Saad’s waist and then cupped his shoulders and just…let go.
    And if there were stars in that sky, Lense didn’t see any that night. But she didn’t care.

Chapter
4
    “Y ou think you’re the only one with his ass on the line? Julian, I need you to understand just how dangerous things are for you now, and me. Blate’s serious. This isn’t just an idle threat.”
    “Oh, believe me, I understand,” said Bashir. He stood at a solitary table in a room that was, essentially, a big off-white box: no window, bright overhead fluorescents; a small bathroom off-center along the far wall that contained a toilet, a sink, a shower. A bed he kept neat, the blanket tucked because Bashir knew that morale depended on the little things. A muted vidscreen hung on one wall; Bashir had tuned it to a news station—the only one, government-run—and some newsperson chattered in antic silence through a story that Bashir gathered was about those rebel fighters these people were so obsessed with. There was a straight-back chair and the table strewn with medical texts—anatomy, emergency medicine, physiology, and other books, history principally, that Kahayn had provided at his request, and that he’d devoured and thank the Lord, he could read the language. So he knew about the Cataclysm and what he was up against.
    “Let this security man and his people come.” He gave his tunic a little tug for emphasis the way he’d seen Captain Picard do once. The long-sleeved tunic fit well but felt odd because it was so loose: some kind of beige cotton with a Nehru neck and a pair of olive trousers. A pair of brown leather shoes with laces. “But I don’t know how many times we need to go through this. I’m from another country—”
    “But really far away and so, of course, all your people have escaped the Cataclysm and only wish to remain anonymous and, oh and by the way, technologically advanced enough to equip a pressure suit that withstands vacuum and can fly.” Kahayn snorted. “You think I swallow that? I’m trying to help you. Anything you want, I got. Books, news…”
    “And guards,” said Bashir. “Don’t forget my locked door, and just in case I find a way out, my lovely guards at the end of that long corridor and on the other side of a door that’s very thick and very locked. Yes, how can one not feel positively pampered?”
    “Would you do any differently? In that amazing… country of yours?”
    Of course, the answer to that was yes, after a fashion. “Doctor, you’ve been good to me—more, perhaps, than I could expect, given how I was dropped on your proverbial doorstep.”
    “Considering your suit…yes, that’s probably accurate.”
    And touché, Doctor. Bashir put on his most winning smile. “But I don’t know what will convince you that I’ve told the truth.”
    “Oh, don’t be insulting. Fine, you’re a doctor. I believe that. But this fantastic, wonderful country no one’s heard of? Please.”
    “Right. Well, I see your point.” Bashir debated, then snapped his fingers. “I know. Let’s just say I’ve told you what I can.”
    “Uh-huh. Well, I have a better idea. What say we play a game called Trust. Here are the rules. You tell me the truth; I tell you the truth. See, in my land, that’s what we call trust…and don’t you say it, Julian, don’t you dare. Because I know you don’t trust me.”
    Bashir closed his mouth. He’d been about to say just that. Only it would have been another lie.
    “Yah,” she said after a pause. “Now let me tell you another, very important truth. You remember Blate?”
    “Ah. Yes. Very unpleasant fellow. Those