Strange New Worlds 2016 (19 page)

Valel seemed to enjoy her astonishment. “We are the Archivists. We preserve the past
in secret. What I am showing you would merit my execution. We are few, but we are
loyal.”

“Loyal to a past that is all but forgotten.”

“Except here.” Valel waved his arms. “We are a stubborn underground movement.”

“No pun intended, I’m sure.”

Valel ignored Dax and said, “We save what we can from each Renewal. There are things
ancient and more recent in our archive.”

“How many?

Valel shrugged and shook his head. “There are untold millions of objects. Billions
of individual pieces perhaps.”

“I mean how many are there of you, the Archivists?”

Hesitating, the Cardassian stepped off the last step and ran a hand across a marble
table top. The legs were carved from Andorian teak and depicted a long-ago battle
with Vulcans. A
sehlat
’s fangs and claws grabbed the table’s rim. “As I said, we are few. We face a unique
challenge. We are not immune to Renewal. We forget along with everybody else.”

“Then how . . . ?”

“Before each Renewal we create and hide messages to ourselves. They contain instructions
and the secret history of the Archives. And we pass down this sacred duty from generation
to generation. My mother and father were Archivists. And theirs before them.”

“So in a few days, your memory will be erased. But then you’ll find a message to yourself
and realize you have an obligation.”

He looked embarrassed. “Something like that.”

“Remarkable. But what do you hope to eventually accomplish?”

He seemed to be a different man from the one she worked with in the lab. “We need
your help. Yours and the others.”

“To do what?”

“To stay here and teach us. You are living links to the past. You can teach us so
much.”

“Given what you’ve told me about Renewal, what you are proposing sounds like revolution.”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I’m talking about. We need your help to overthrow the Federation.”

Sisko and Worf followed P’Tash to Valel’s lab, only to find it empty.

“She may be in trouble,” said Worf. “Jadzia would not willingly leave with her work
unfinished.”

“We needed a break,” said Dax as she and Valel approached from behind them.

“I was showing Dax the view from the top of the Citadel,” Valel said.

“It’s beautiful, Benjamin,” Dax said. “Even you would like it, Worf.”

Sisko recognized something in Dax’s tone. She was trying to tell him something. “That
sounds like something I’d like to see. Perhaps later.”

“You are tired, I’m sure,” said P’Tash.

“I can show them to the guest rooms,” said Valel, taking the Trill by the elbow.

“No, Valel. You should stay and monitor the progress of the repairs. We all have an
interest in seeing that our guests are returned to their own time and place.”

Valel released Dax and gave a slight bow.

P’Tash gestured toward the door. “Come with me, please.”

The Starfleet officers followed, leaving Valel behind.

“It is not our business,” said Worf. “The Prime Directive—”

“The Prime Directive?” Dax snapped. “You of all people are going to cite the Prime
Directive?”

“It does not matter whether we are in the far future or not, if that is what you are
thinking, Lieutenant.”

“You’re going to pull rank?”

Sisko thought that it could get violent, and it wasn’t Dax he was worried about. “All
right, old man, Mister Worf.” He had picked up an apple from a fruit bowl on a small
table and was looking forward to enjoying his second of the day, but he found himself
tossing it from hand to hand like a baseball. They had been discussing the situation
on Bajor and the Federation for what seemed like hours.

“Staying here to help in a revolution,” he began carefully, “is out of the question.”

Dax took a deep breath. “I’m not suggesting that, Benjamin. I never thought I’d say
this, but the Federation has failed. In order to keep the peace, they destroy themselves.
Again and again. It’s not just burning books, it’s whole families torn apart. Again
and again.”

“Not our problem,” said Worf. “We would be interfering with the timestream.”

Sisko stopped tossing his “baseball.” “What about that, old man?”

She shook her head. “Is it interfering in the timestream if none of this has happened
yet? From our perspective, I mean.”

Sisko felt a headache coming on. “I sympathize with Valel. But he can’t be serious
about asking for help to bring down the Federation. How could we? We are just three
people.”

“Our combat experience. Our knowledge of subterfuge, subversion, and espionage. We
could teach them.”

The headache was definitely coming. “For the sake of argument, how? P’Tash says that
if we are here on the last day of Renewal, which is in less than eight days, we’ll
be renewed as well. We’ll forget everything.”

Dax sat down, defeated at last. “I don’t know.” She looked pleadingly at Sisko and
Worf. “Eight days is a long time. There must be something we can do.”

A groan from Worf caught their attention. “No wars,” he said. “No opportunity for
a warrior to show his worth. No chance to vanquish an enemy in honorable combat. Such
things are disgusting to a Klingon.” He sat down beside Dax. “But there is peace here,
Jadzia. Real peace, at last. I do not believe I am saying this, but do you wish to
undo centuries of peace? Is this what you want?”

Dax looked him in the eye. “Yes.” She looked unflinchingly at Sisko. “Absolutely,
yes. The Federation has become a totalitarian regime that oppresses free will. As
officers in Starfleet and citizens of the Federation, it is our duty to correct this.”

Sisko’s head throbbed. He returned the apple to the fruit bowl. “We’re done for the
night. I suggest you retire to your quarters. Tomorrow is another day.”

From the vast veranda overlooking the river, Sisko watched the world burn.

The ceremony of Renewal had begun. There were to be seven days of “cleansing,” as
P’Tash put it. They could have simply vaporized everything that held some link to
the past, instead they ceremoniously and very carefully destroyed the past in spectacular
bonfires. It was the third day of the ceremony, and yesterday the captain had walked
through the village and saw the sad statue of the fisherman being hauled down with
ropes to whoops and hollers. He also noticed a distinct and growing lawlessness. Worf
and Dax had seen it too. People were acting out without fear of repercussion. They
were indulging in vices and unleashing pent-up desires.

Somehow the sight of the stone fisherman smashed to pieces on the cobblestone stirred
him more than the hidden vault of the Archivists. At Dax’s suggestion, Valel had shown
him the vault in hopes of moving him to action. While he was in awe, it had not changed
his mind. He resisted the desire to explore the collection—there were objects from
across the galaxy in that cavern—and left without moving past the doorway.

But the stone fisherman. The glow of fires played across his simple features before
he toppled over and shattered. It had been an ugly thing but now it meant something
to him. He couldn’t articulate it to Dax or Worf, but it made him profoundly sad.

“What will you do?” he had asked Valel.

“All this belongs in a museum. Or in homes or schools. It belongs in the hands of
the people, to be seen and held and enjoyed. One day, perhaps, that will be.”

On his way back from the market he’d found himself in a mob. It seemed as if two groups
were clashing, but he could not tell for certain. He found himself jostled at first,
and then roughly pushed. He struggled to escape as rough hands clawed at him. He barreled
through the throngs, stumbled, and found himself down by the river. Catching his breath,
he realized he was on the same rock he’d shared with Gen and Marisa days earlier.

He had sat there for a long time as the world shuddered and burned.

The repairs were finished, and P’Tash, Valel, and others were in the hall to see them
off. The pair seemed distracted. P’Tash was relieved and Valel defeated. Sisko saw
Gen and Marisa off to the side, and the little girl gave him a shy wave.

“And now we say our farewells, Captain Sisko.” P’Tash stood tall, playing the part
of grand officiant.

“I wish I could say that this visit has been memorable,” said Sisko, “but we won’t
remember any of this. And, soon, neither will you. As I understand it, it’s your duty
and responsibility to unleash the nanoprobes into the atmosphere that begin the final
stages of the Renewal, erasing everyone’s memories.”

P’Tash met his gaze and gave him a tight smile. “When you are ready, you will be materialized
aboard your ship and returned to your time.”

Sisko turned to his officers. He could see the anger written in Dax’s face. Worf was,
as usual, stoic and difficult to read. “There is just one last thing, P’Tash. There’s
something I’d like you to see.” He turned to Valel. “Will you take us to the vault?”

Dax and Valel looked at Sisko in astonishment. “Benjamin, are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely.”

“This is dangerous,” Dax said. “The penalty for—”

“Valel, will you take us?” Sisko asked again, but the Cardassian was speechless. “Very
well, I will. Follow me, everyone. There’s something you should all see.”

P’Tash grabbed Sisko’s arm. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Showing you the past. Don’t worry. If you don’t like it, you can just forget about
it.”