Tincture of Madness
Part 2

Jibril Garbett edged slowly forward in the tunnel on her hands and knees. Just a little further... The power conduit she was headed for was just around the corner of the next junction. Her routine sensor sweep had shown a power surge originating from that conduit, which left her confused. She had just run a level two diagnostic on all of these power conduits a couple of days ago. Any problems should have shown up then.

Reaching the junction, Jibril rounded to the left and stopped before the access panel. She opened her tool kit and, setting her tools out within easy reach, removed the panel, exposing the circuits beyond. She ran her tricorder over the circuits and frowned. There was nothing here to indicate a problem.

Garbett set the tricorder aside. The links would have to be checked manually which would take a good bit of time. She lightly touched her communicator badge. "Garbett to Bashir."

He answered almost immediately. "Bashir. Is something wrong, Jibril?"

Garbett smiled at the concern in his voice. "I just wanted to let you know I may be late. I've run into some problems here. It shouldn't take more than an extra half-hour. Do you mind waiting?"

"You know better." She could hear the smile in his voice. "I've got plenty here to keep me busy anyway. Just hurry."

Garbett closed the line and reached forward to disconnect the first of the links. For the briefest of seconds her fingertips tingled. Her mind barely had time to register the impending danger before electricity surged through her body. She lost consciousness immediately, falling forward into the open panel. Sparks flashed for several seconds longer. Then, all was silent.

* * * * *

Bashir stared quietly at the lifeless body of Jibril Garbett. After an eternity, he pulled the sheet up to cover the pale face and turned away.

"Julian?"

He looked up at the sound of Dax's voice, embarrassed at the unshed tears he knew showed in his eyes.

Dax moved forward to place a hand on his arm. "Are you all right?"

He saw the concern in her expression and forced a smile to reassure her. "I'm fine." He turned back to the body, placing it in the stasis unit before continuing. "It was such a stupid way to die."

"Is there a smart way to die?"

"It shouldn't have happened," Bashir said tiredly. "O'Brien said that Jibril should have picked up the energy surge on her scanner." He paused and swallowed hard. "We had plans for tonight. She called to tell me she was running late and I told her to hurry. What if she was careless because of that? My God, Jadzia, it was my fault!"

Dax turned him to face her, both hands on his shoulders. "Julian, it was an accident. It wasn't your fault. It's just one of those things that happen."

Bashir nodded somberly. "I've seen enough of this that you would think I would know that by now." He sighed deeply and let Dax put her arms around him, drawing comfort from the embrace.

Neither of them noticed the whisper of movement in the nearby shadows, or the expression of stone that crossed the Besimi features.

* * * * *

O'Brien double checked the readings with a frown. This was just too big a coincidence for his liking. First, the accident with Ensign Garbett, now, this.

He reached up and touched his communicator. "O'Brien to Sisko."

After a brief pause, "Sisko here. Go ahead, Chief."

"Captain, we have a problem in Docking Bay Four. I think you should see this."

* * * * *

Sisko examined the data padd O'Brien handed him. After a minute, he turned a grim face to the Irishman. "If I'm reading this correctly, there is a back-flow in the port power transfer conduit."

O'Brien nodded. "Normally, I probably wouldn't have noticed it. It's deep in the system, in an area that doesn't show on normal scans, so, occasionally I run a diagnostic on the whole system, just to be on the safe side. I wasn't scheduled to run it until next week, but I was in the system already so I went ahead with it. Thank heaven I did. If that had gone unnoticed..."

"Then, the runabout would have most likely exploded the minute the plasma injectors fired." Sisko paused, thinking. "Dax is scheduled to take this runabout out in the morning." He suppressed a shudder at how close his friend had come to ending her eight lifetimes. "Can you tell what caused it?"

O'Brien frowned. "It could simply be a glitch."

"Why do I have the feeling that you don't believe that?"

"I've never been one to believe in coincidence, Captain."

Sisko nodded, knowing O'Brien referred to Ensign Garbett's accident. "Could this have been sabotage?"

O'Brien lifted his shoulders in a frustrated gesture. "If it is, it was a damn good job. I can't find any evidence of tampering whatsoever."

"What about Ensign Garbett?"

It was a question O'Brien had already asked himself several times. It just made no sense that she would have make such a careless mistake. "I've been over those links myself a half-dozen times. I can't find anything to suggest it was anything but an accident." He shook his head. "I just can't buy it. It makes no sense."

Sisko trusted O'Brien's instincts. "Why would someone want to kill Ensign Garbett? Or Dax either for that matter?"

O'Brien was silent. He had no answers.

"Keep on it, Chief. If someone tampered with either of those systems, I want to know about it."

"If there is evidence to be found, sir, I'll find it."

* * * * *

Linthe sat alone sipping her tea - Tarkalian tea, Bashir's favorite - and watched the infirmary door. From where she sat at a nearby restaurant, she could clearly see who came and went. She quelled a flash of anger when she saw the Bajoran first officer enter.

Nothing was working out like she had planned. Bashir was supposed to turn to her when that Starfleet woman had died, but he hadn't. Anger coursed through Linthe as she remembered the humiliation she had felt when he had politely refused her attempts to comfort him.

Then, her plan to eliminate the Trill had gone awry and she hadn't even been able to figure out what had gone wrong. Somehow the 'glitch' had been found and corrected before Dax had taken the runabout out. It was just bad luck, Linthe decided. There would be another opportunity, if it was necessary. Dax hadn't gone anywhere near Bashir in the past two days. Maybe, somehow, the Trill had gotten the message.

Linthe sipped her tea. She would have to make a move soon. The Camery was due to arrive in a few more days. She had to make Julian see how much he needed her before then.

Suddenly, she stood and headed across the Promenade. It was time to confront Bashir.

Entering the infirmary, Linthe looked around. Bashir was not in the main room. Voices drifted to her from the direction of the doctor's office. Linthe started toward it, stopping short of the door as the conversation inside became discernible.

"I'll have it ready in about an hour," Bashir's voice said.

"I'll let Sisko know." That was the Bajoran woman.

Linthe took a step forward, intending to enter the room, but the Bajoran's next comment stopped her.

"How is your...situation...with Linthe working out?" Did she detect amusement in the woman's voice?

"Somehow, I knew you were going to ask about that," Bashir answered dryly.

"There's very little around here lately to lighten the mood. Can I help it if we've latched on to your love life for entertainment?" The woman actually laughed!

Linthe stepped back into a shadow, determined to hear the rest of the conversation.

There was a short pause, then, Bashir said, "The Camery will be here in a few more days. I can wait it out."

"Now you know how poor Jadzia felt when you first got here," Kira commented.

"That's an unfair comparison," Bashir protested. "I never followed Jadzia around."

"She's following you?" There was surprise in Kira's voice.

"I think so, I don't know." Linthe could hear exasperation in Bashir's voice. "Maybe I'm overreacting. It just seems that every time I turn around lately, there she is. I've had the feeling several times that someone is watching me."

"Maybe you're just being paranoid. Have you tried talking to her?"

"A couple of times. It was a disaster both times. Besimi are so damned sensitive and it seems that I keep saying the wrong thing."

"No!" Kira said in feigned astonishment. "I can't imagine you saying the wrong thing!" She laughed again and, after a short moment, Bashir joined in.

Unable to bear anymore, Linthe bolted from the infirmary. She all but ran to her quarters, holding back the tears until the door slid firmly shut behind her.

They had been discussing her! Laughing at her! The humiliation was almost too much to bear. Anger coursed through her, replacing the embarrassment. How dare he discuss her with that woman! All she had done was show him that she cared for him, and all this time he had been laughing at her with his friends.

Linthe grabbed the closest object and hurled it at the wall. It felt good. She grabbed another and threw it after the first. Moving methodically around the room, she threw object after object. In less than five minutes, the room looked like a war zone. Finding nothing else to throw, Linthe stopped, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She closed her eyes and forced herself to calm down enough for rational thought.

Bashir had betrayed her love! She opened her eyes as the realization came to her. He had callously tread on her emotions, caring not one whit how much he hurt her in the process. He couldn't be allowed to get away with it! He had to pay for what he had done to her!

Linthe clenched and unclenched her fists as she repeated the words. He had to pay!

* * * * *

Bashir knew something was wrong the minute he entered his quarters. The lights were programmed to come on as he stepped through the door. For some reason, it was still dark.

"Computer, lights." No response. "Computer?" Silence.

He stepped cautiously into the darkness. A rustle of movement across the room drew his attention. "Who's there?"

For a long moment, there was no answer. A chill of caution worked its way up his spine. He lifted his hand, prepared to call security. Before he could follow through with the thought, a soft voice came to him in the darkness.

"It's me, Julian." It sounded like Linthe, but something was different about the voice.

Bashir dropped his hand back to his side, irritated. He had hoped she had understood him the last time they had talked. He had told her quite plainly that he just was not interested. Obviously, she had not gotten the message.

The woman moved slowly toward him as she spoke. "I hope you don't mind, I let myself in. We needed to talk in private and this seemed the most logical place." Now she was standing just in front of him.

"How did you get in here?"

"Does that really matter? Let's just say, it was easy enough. Have you forgotten that I'm 'one of the most brilliant engineering minds in the Federation'?"

Something about her voice warned him. Without really knowing why, he was suddenly nervous. He reached again for his comm badge, not knowing just who he intended to call. Before he could activate it, Linthe's hand shot out, snatching the device from his chest. Her other hand grabbed for his wrist, clamping it in a vise-like grip.

"I told you, I want to talk to you alone."

"Linthe--" he began. Before he could finish, her grip on his wrist tightened and twisted. He cried out in surprise and pain as he felt the bone snap.

"I don't want to hear your excuses. I'll do the talking." She tightened the grip further, driving him to one knee in agony. "I gave you every opportunity, Julian. I made myself everything that you wanted. I'm intelligent. I'm attractive. I made myself over to look just like that woman you seemed to prefer. What else could I have done?"

Pain sharpened Bashir's breath. Did she want an answer? He hesitated, uncertain of her state of mind but convinced of her superior strength.

"I kept asking myself that question," Linthe continued. "I finally realized, the problem is not me, it's you." She reached into her pocket and drew out a small object. In the darkness, Julian couldn't make it out.

"It's not me that needs to change, it's you. I have to make some changes in you." She raised the object to his neck and he heard a soft hiss. A hypospray! The realization came too late for him to react.

Awareness faded as he slumped limply to the floor. As it fled completely, he heard Linthe's voice at his ear. "Sweet dreams, darling."

* * * * *

Consciousness returned slowly, bringing with it waves of dizziness and nausea. A soft moan escaped Bashir's lips despite his efforts to stop it. He heard a rustle of clothing and felt someone move closer, almost touching him.

"Awake?" It took a minute for his tired brain to place the voice. "Come on, darling," Linthe urged. "If you try real hard, I'll bet you can open your eyes."

Her voice was taunting and, though he desperately wanted to ignore her urgings, his eyes fluttered open.

Linthe was kneeling beside him, her face very close to his. She met his weak gaze for a minute, then backed up to sit on her heels.

"That's better," she announced. "I thought you would never wake up. I have to get back before I'm missed. We can't both disappear. What would people say?"

She fumbled with something out of his line of vision, then held a cup of water to his lips. He sipped at it. It was lukewarm, but, to his dry mouth, delicious.

"I know I promised we would talk," Linthe said, "but it will have to wait. I have to make an appearance to establish my alibi."

Bashir watched silently as she double checked the cords binding his hands and feet. He couldn't find the strength to speak. With a satisfied smile in his direction, she turned -- and stepped through the wall!

Bashir blinked after her, wondering if he were hallucinating. The place she had stepped through looked just like the rest of the walls surrounding him. A holographic projection? He glanced around, looking for the projector. The movement caused a wave of dizziness that forced him to close his eyes.

He lay very still for several long minutes, waiting for his head to clear. He felt strangely weak and his broken arm, tied behind him, throbbed mercilessly.

Turning his head slowly, to forestall another wave of dizziness, Bashir surveyed his surroundings. The room was small, no more than three meters from where he lay to the wall Linthe had walked through. There were no doors or openings that he could see.

He turned his head to look behind him and had to wait again for his vision to clear. There was a container of water about a meter away and several blankets; other than that, the room was empty.

Where was he? There was nothing about his surroundings to give him a clue. It could be an empty hold in one of the lower levels of the station, he decided. Many areas had not been used since the Cardassians had abandoned the station, some longer than that.

He had no idea what time it was or how long he had been unconscious, but he knew he wouldn't be missed until morning, unless there was a medical emergency before then. A search would be launched right away. It wouldn't take long for Odo's teams to find him. It was just a matter of time.

Bashir laid his head back down and closed his eyes, wincing as another wave of nausea hit him. He should have seen this coming. Linthe was disturbed, he had suspected that, but he had no idea her problems went so deep. Had there been signs he had missed? Damn it! He was a doctor, he should have recognized the extent of the woman's problems and offered her help before she slipped this far.

What did Linthe intend to do now? It was difficult to concentrate. He struggled to remember all he had learned about psychosis in medical school. But even with that knowledge, he knew there was no way to predict her next move.

* * * * *

Sisko waited patiently for five more minutes. The staff meeting was already ten minutes late waiting for Doctor Bashir to make an appearance. Finally, in exasperation, Sisko hit his communicator. "Sisko to infirmary."

"Jabara here."

Sisko was surprised to hear Bashir's nurse answer. "Would you tell Doctor Bashir we're waiting for him."

There was a long moment of silence. Then, "Doctor Bashir isn't here, sir. I haven't seen him this morning. I assumed he went straight there."

Sisko frowned. He could hear the concern in the Bajoran's voice. "I'm sure there is an explanation," he reassured her, though he wasn't so sure. Bashir took his medical responsibilities seriously and he never missed a staff meeting. "Let me know if you hear from him."

Meeting Dax's gaze across the table, he hit his communicator again. "Sisko to Bashir."

Nothing.

"Sisko to Bashir."

Still no answer.

"Something's wrong," Dax said.

Sisko's stomach twisted apprehensively. "Computer, locate Doctor Bashir."

"Unable to locate."

Sisko turned to Odo. The shapeshifter was already on his feet and headed for the door. "Odo to Reese. Have a security team meet me at Doctor Bashir's quarters."

O'Brien slapped the table in frustration. "First, Garbett's accident and the problem with the runabout. Now, this!"

"I thought you couldn't find any signs of sabotage," Worf commented.

"I didn't," O'Brien conceded, "but I know in my gut there's more to this than a string of bad luck."

Sisko agreed with the Irishman but could see no point in voicing his suspicions just yet. "Let's wait until we get the constable's report before we begin to speculate."

It was almost ten minutes later when Odo returned with his report. "I've gone over the doctor's quarters thoroughly. There's no sign of him or any evidence that there was trouble." The shapeshifter paused. "There is also no evidence that Doctor Bashir was in his quarters last night."

Sisko swore under his breath. Turning to Kira, he said, "Put the station on security alert." Though he knew it could already be too late, he added, "I want every departing ship searched before they are given clearance to leave."

The Bajoran moved to comply.

"I've already got Reese organizing a search," Odo said, "but it could take a while. There are some areas of the station that haven't been used in years." Odo's eyes met the captain's. "If he's on the station, we'll find him."

"We need to determine when he was last seen," said Sisko.

"We had a drink together last night at Quark's," O'Brien supplied. "It was about 2300 hours when Julian left. I got the impression he was headed for his quarters."

"Twelve hours," Odo mused.

"A hell of a lot can happen in twelve hours," Kira said.

* * * * *

A cool hand on his forehead woke Bashir. He lifted his eyes and met Linthe's gaze. She was studying him with an unreadable expression. Bashir pushed himself up onto the elbow of his uninjured arm, intending to try to sit up. A wave of weakness dropped him back to the floor.

Linthe poured a cup of water and held it to his lips. "Just lay still, darling. You're in no condition for so much exertion."

Bashir sipped at the water. Something was wrong with him. He shouldn't still be this weak no matter what had been in that hypospray. Linthe removed the cup and he let his head drop heavily back to the floor.

"I brought you some things," the Besimi said, pulling open a bag. She removed a small pillow and placed it under his head. Reaching back into the bag, she pulled out two fat, white candles. "Candles are so romantic, don't you think?"

Bashir didn't bother to answer. He watched as Linthe lit the candles and set them on opposite ends of the room.

"Now, isn't that nicer?" She turned to him, obviously expecting an answer.

Bashir swallowed hard against the dizziness and said, "Linthe, I know you wanted some private time alone with me." He was surprised at how weak he sounded. "And I think that's a good idea. We could go to my quarters and talk..."

Linthe moved closer and placed her finger on his lips. "Save your strength, darling. We can't leave here right now. There are people looking for you."

Bashir looked up sharply. Linthe noticed his expression. "Don't worry, they won't find us here." She brushed his hair back from his forehead. "I've taken care of that."

Bashir didn't understand. His tired mind couldn't decipher the words. "Linthe," he felt the need to try to reason with her, "you don't have to do this. Let me help you--" He broke off at the expression in her eyes.

"I'm not the one that needs help!" Linthe spit out, angrily. "You need the help and I'm the one to give it to you." She stopped and visibly calmed herself. "You made me think the problem was with me. But it wasn't. It was you! And now I have to help you. That's why we had to come here."

Linthe stroked the side of his face with her fingers as she spoke. He winced as her nails bit through the skin, drawing blood. The cold anger in her eyes sent a shudder through him. He knew in that instant that there would be no reasoning with her. She was beyond reason. His only hope was that the search teams would find him before she went too far.

* * * * *

Kira stepped back and let O'Brien work the control pad. The door hadn't been opened in so long that the controls were frozen. O'Brien pulled off the covering and stuck his hand inside. After a minute, the door slid aside with a groan of metal against metal.

Kira raised her flashlight and stepped inside. The musky smell of disuse hit her and she coughed. Her light played over the room, revealing nothing but empty crates and boxes thrown haphazardly around the area.

"Nothing," she said disgustedly. "It doesn't look like anyone's been in here in years."

"Damn," O'Brien swore softly. "We're running out of options." Not to mention, possibly, time.

"There are still four more rooms on this level," Kira tried to sound hopeful.

O'Brien threw up his hands in a sign of helpless frustration. "It's been over twenty hours since Julian disappeared. Every hour that slips by with no sign of him--"

"I know," Kira interrupted. She had been thinking the same thoughts herself, but she didn't want to hear them voiced aloud. There were just so damned many places on this station that a prisoner, or a body, she added with a shudder, could be hidden. And that didn't take into account the dozen or so ships that had departed before they had noticed the doctor was missing. Commander Worf was working on that from the Defiant but it could be days before each ship could be checked out. Days that Bashir maybe didn't have.

Kira turned to leave but was stopped by a hand on her arm.

"Listen!" O'Brien demanded.

Kira strained her ears in the silence. She heard nothing. "What?"

"You don't hear that? It's a hum." O'Brien cocked his head and listened for a moment. "Like low-level electronics of some sort."

Kira activated her tricorder and studied the readings. "I'm not picking up anything."

O'Brien stepped further into the room and listened again. After a minute, he straightened and shook his head. "I guess I'm just picking up an echo from the upper levels."

"Or maybe wishful thinking." She placed a hand gently on the man's arm. "We'll find him." The words sounded hollow even to her own ears. "Let's finish this level and check in with Odo. Maybe he's had better luck."

The two left to resume the search.

For a long moment there was only silence and darkness in the room. Then a shadow stepped through the back wall and stared after the station officers. Satisfied that they were gone, the woman stepped back through the wall, into the small area she had cleverly hidden behind a holographic illusion.

Linthe kneeled beside her prisoner. "They're gone, darling. We're alone now."

Bashir looked up and weakly met her eyes. He was prevented from answering by the tape across his mouth. Linthe had assured his silence very effectively. He had listened to Kira and O'Brien's conversation with a sinking heart, knowing that the search teams would not return to this area.

He closed his eyes against another attack of nausea. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he shake the effects of the hypospray? If he could just think straight...

"Let's give them a few more minutes, just to be sure," said Linthe. She moved around behind him and checked the ropes on his hands. The swelling of his broken wrist had all but cut off the circulation in his hand. Linthe loosened the bonds slightly.

Bashir breathed a small sigh of relief as the pain decreased minimally. He heard Linthe move across the small space and fumble with something, but he couldn't find the strength to open his eyes.

There had to be a reason for the way he felt. The weakness seemed to be growing progressively worse. Think, damn it! he commanded himself, but his tired mind refused to focus. Coherent thought was almost impossible. He shook his head to try to clear away the fog, bringing on a wave of nausea that drew a small groan.

Linthe moved closer and, lifting his head, removed the tape from his mouth. Bashir opened his eyes. She was holding a cup of water to his lips. His stomach still churning, Bashir turned his head away in refusal.

Linthe's grip on the back of his neck tightened painfully. "You need this. Come on, open your mouth. Cooperate." As her insistence grew, her grip tightened even further.

Bashir winced as pain shot through his shoulders and down his spine. He met her gaze with as much strength as he could muster. Was there a reason she was so insistent about the water? His struggled mentally to hold on to the train of thought. The water...Suddenly it clicked in his tired mind.

"The water...is drugged..." he managed weakly.

Anger flashed in Linthe's eyes. She lowered the cup and backed up, releasing her hold on his neck. His head fell heavily back to the pillow.

"I was trying to make this easier for you, but I guess you can't appreciate my generosity." She reached behind her and produced a hypospray. "It doesn't really matter. One way or another...it's all the same to me." She released the drug into his neck with a cruel smile.

Bashir closed his eyes against the sudden increase in nausea and dizziness.

There was a long moment of silence. Finally, Linthe spoke. "I don't want to hurt you, Julian, but it's your fault it had to come to this."

Bashir opened his eyes and looked at her. She had backed up to sit beside one of the candles. As she talked, she ran a finger back and forth through the flame.

"You made me think you cared about me."

"I do care...about you, Linthe...but just not in the...way you want me to." Talking was becoming increasingly difficult as the drug took hold.

Linthe lunged forward and grabbed him by the front of his uniform, pulling him up to meet her furious gaze. "You used me. You got what you wanted from me and then tossed me aside." She must have seen the confusion on his face. "The night of the celebratory dinner at Captain Sisko's. When you walked me back to my quarters. I was vulnerable then and you knew it. You took advantage of that to get what you wanted from me."

Bashir stared at the woman in shock. Finally, he found his voice. "That's...not the way...it happened."

Linthe's hand shot out, catching him hard across the face. His head ringing, he looked back to the woman. She was completely mad!

"You can't pretend it didn't happen," said Linthe. "We both know better. You got what you wanted from me and then moved on to that Starfleet woman."

Bashir stared at her in revulsion as the words registered through the pain and fog in his head. "You killed Jibril," he whispered.

"I eliminated a problem," Linthe corrected.

"And tried...to kill Dax."

"It wasn't a completely wasted effort. I think she got the message." Linthe's gaze softened slightly. "It doesn't matter now."

Bashir blinked hard to clear his vision. The room was growing dark, but he struggled to hold on to consciousness. "Why..." He stopped and swallowed hard, then tried again. "Why are you...doing this? What do...you hope to...accomplish?"

"I could have made you love me, I know I could. But you wouldn't let me."

Bashir winced at the sudden unbridled fury in the woman's expression as she drew him closer.

"I thought it was going to get better. Then I heard you, you and that Bajoran woman. You were talking about me, laughing."

Kira? Bashir struggled to remember what he could have said to Kira that Linthe might have overheard. He couldn't concentrate on the thought.

"You were laughing at me!" Linthe spit out in anger. She slammed him back against the wall. His head hit painfully, drawing a cry from cracked lips.

Before he could gather his wits, Linthe struck him again. He reeled but was kept from collapsing by the woman's hold on his uniform front.

"You laughed at me!" she screamed as she hit him again and again.

Bashir took the blows, too weak to try to fight back. At last, blessed darkness descended, fading the screams and the pain.

* * * * *

Sisko slammed his fist down angrily on his desk. "No one can disappear without a trace!"

"I'm not saying there isn't a trace, Captain," Odo said patiently. He knew Sisko's anger wasn't directed at him. The Human was frustrated by the situation, as they all were. "I'm simply saying that the search teams haven't turned up anything."

"Is it possible that they've missed something?" Sisko was grasping at straws and he knew it.

"We've searched every level, visually and with sensors. We found nothing out of the ordinary."

"Commander Worf still has two more ships to check out," Sisko said with as much optimism as he could muster. "Until we hear from him, I want the search teams to go over the lower levels again. It's possible that some small clue has gone unnoticed."

Odo nodded and left to organize the search.

Sisko swiveled his chair to stare out the small view port at the stars. Concern and irritation was beginning to wear heavily on him. The young doctor had been missing for almost two days now and they had yet to find the first clue.

The captain's hands clenched unconsciously into fists. It was just so damned frustrating! They couldn't even pin down a viable motive.

Sisko closed his eyes and sighed deeply. Was the young man dead? If so, why hadn't they found a body? If not, why hadn't they at least found a clue to his whereabouts? Was he injured? Waiting for someone to help him?

He spun his chair back around to face his desk. It did no good to speculate on the worse case scenario. He had to find something constructive to occupy his thoughts. Switching on his computer, he called up all of Doctor Bashir's medical logs for the past week and began reading. It was a long shot at best, but maybe there would be something, somewhere, that could help.

* * * * *

Quark watched the two silent Starfleet officers with a frown. It was depressing just to be around these people lately. Of course, the Ferengi knew why they were so disconsolate. Rumors had been flying around the station since yesterday. A person would have to be dead or deaf not to know by now that Doctor Bashir was missing.

Dax looked up as Quark approached. Concern shadowed her normally impassive face.

"If we could just figure out a motive," O'Brien said into the silence. "At least, then we would have a starting point, some idea of which way to turn." He reached for the glass as Quark set it before him, but did not drink. "I just can't shake the feeling that Ensign Garbett's accident and the problems with the runabout are tied in with Julian's disappearance somehow."

Dax frowned. "But how? What do the three incidents have in common?"

"Doctor Bashir," Quark stated matter-of-factly. The connection was obvious.

They looked up as one.

"Julian?" O'Brien was confused.

"Doctor Bashir was seeing Ensign Garbett," Quark explained. "And Lieutenant Dax was scheduled to take that same runabout out, was she not?" At O'Brien's nod, he continued. "Dax is one of Bashir's closest friends."

O'Brien's eyes narrowed as he considered the theory. Was there a connection?

"But who would care about Julian's relationships?" asked Dax.

"I think it's obvious," Quark said. He pulled out a chair and sat down, deliberately taking his time. He enjoyed being the center of attention. For once, he had the answers that they wanted.

"Quark," O'Brien growled impatiently.

"You Humans have a saying, something about a scorned woman, I think."

"What?" O'Brien wasn't certain he had heard the man right.

"Who else would care enough to want to arrange 'accidents' for the other women in his life?"

O'Brien looked up, meeting Dax's eyes. "But who...?"

"Julian hasn't been seeing anyone else that I know of," Dax replied.

Their eyes went to Quark.

"Don't look at me," he protested, rising. "I was merely making an observation. You two will have to figure out the rest of it."

The Ferengi walked away, leaving the two of them staring after him in confusion.

"What do you think?" O'Brien asked after a minute.

"I don't know," Dax said slowly. "It makes as much sense as some of the other theories I've heard."

"Maybe we should have a talk with Captain Sisko."

* * * * *

"A woman?!" Sisko sounded as astonished as they had when Quark had first mentioned it.

"Don't be so quick to dismiss the theory, Benjamin," Dax said. "The more I think about it the more sense it makes."

"But who?" Kira asked.

Dax spread her hands in a gesture of frustration. "I don't know."

"She would have to be insane," Kira observed. "If what Quark suggested is true, this woman is guilty of murder and attempted murder, not to mention whatever has happened to Julian." The thought was more than a little disturbing.

Kira's face suddenly drained of color. "Dear Prophets!"

"What is it?" Sisko demanded.

"It has to be Linthe!"

O'Brien snapped around to look at Kira. "Do you realize what you're saying? She's one of the most brilliant minds in the Federation."

"Who better to sabotage the runabout and the power conduit without detection?"

"Do you have anything to back up this accusation, Major?" Sisko asked.

"Just Julian's own suspicions. He's been concerned for some time now about the woman's attentions." She turned to O'Brien. "We joked about it at the dinner last week, remember? The day before he disappeared he mentioned to me that he thought she was following him."

Kira's hand went to her pale face. "I laughed about it, called him paranoid! If I had taken him seriously--"

"Don't jump to conclusions, Major," Sisko interrupted. "We should have a talk with Linthe first."

He stood and headed for the door. "I'll inform Odo of our speculations. Dismissed."

The officers returned to their posts in OPS. Kira slid into her seat with an agonized expression.

"Are you all right?" Dax asked.

"Julian tried to tell me he was worried about Linthe and I laughed it off."

"You can't blame yourself," Dax said softly. "There was no indication that she was capable of such an act. Besides, you could be wrong."

"I hope to God you are," O'Brien said, "even if it means we're back to square one. Julian warned me not to make an enemy of the woman, because of her strength. If she's insane enough to kill Jibril and try to kill Dax, what will she do to Julian?"

* * * * *

Julian Bashir's eyes fluttered but did not open. As consciousness returned, he groaned. His face was stiff and hurt where he lay on it. Mustering all his strength, he rolled to his back and almost screamed as his weight pressed on his broken wrist. He rolled to his side, gasping against the pain.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. Linthe was gone. The candles burned still against the wall. At least, he hadn't been left in darkness.

Bashir winced as he was assaulted again by the nausea. Whatever Linthe was giving him was too strong for his system. He had to get out of here. He needed help.

Linthe could not be reasoned with. She was too far gone. She fully intended to kill him. He knew that with certainty.

He looked around the room again. There had to be a way to get out of here. He didn't know how long he had before Linthe returned. He wasn't sure if he could get far in his weakened condition, or even if he could find a way to get loose, but he knew without a doubt that he would die if he didn't try.

He forced his mind to focus on the problem. It was practically impossible and he wondered if that was from the drugs or the injuries. He closed his eyes with a sigh. Both, probably.

Suddenly, his eyes jerked open and he looked at the candle closest to him. If he could make it that far . . .

Bashir rolled back to his stomach and pushed himself as best he could with his bound feet. Using the elbow of his uninjured arm, he inched himself forward.

An eternity later, he stopped, having only managed a few feet. He allowed himself a short break, then pushed on. Three more tries and he was there.

Somehow, Bashir found the strength to push himself into a sitting position against the wall. The effort left him lightheaded and exhausted. He took a short moment to catch his breath. He shook his head to clear his vision. Then, turning his back to the candle, he stuck his hands into the flame.

At first, he felt nothing. Then, as the flame licked at the cords binding him and bit into the flesh of his hands, his mind registered the pain. He bit his lip hard to stop the cry that worked its way up his throat. The pain grew increasingly worse as the sickening stench of burning flesh filled the room.

Unable to stand the pain, Bashir jerked his hands away, panting hard. He squeezed his eyes shut. He had to try again and he had to hurry. Linthe could come back at any moment.

Scraping together the last remnants of his courage, Bashir once more held his hands in the fire. The pain assaulted him again, stronger than before, but he forced himself to hold still. At last, the bonds holding him gave way. He almost cried out in relief.

He blinked away the tears that had sprung to his eyes and examined his hands. The burns were deep but the sight of his broken wrist worried him more. It was badly swollen and the skin had turned dark. It needed treatment. He had to get out of here.

He fumbled one-handed with the cords binding his feet, but his fingers were numb with pain from the burns and almost useless. After a few minutes, he gave up and turned back to the candle. It took several minutes to burn through, but, at last, he was free.

His first effort to stand was unsuccessful, but a second try got him to his feet. He leaned heavily against the wall, waiting for the dizziness to pass.

Cradling his broken arm with his good hand, Bashir took a step toward the wall Linthe had walked through. He swayed and almost doubled over as the nausea hit him again. As soon as it passed, he continued. He stepped through the holographic wall into almost total darkness.

He reached for the closest wall and felt his way to the door. In the corridor, Bashir looked both ways, trying to get his bearings. He had no idea where he was, he realized with a panicked breath. There was nothing to distinguish this corridor from any other on the station. Turning left, he started off at a slow stumble, hoping he didn't meet Linthe coming at him.

* * * * *

Odo stepped from the turbolift into Ops and scanned the area for Captain Sisko. He spotted the Human and headed for him.

"We have a problem, Captain," the shapeshifter said as he approached.

Sisko looked up and frowned. He couldn't read anything from Odo's expression but that statement didn't bode well.

"I can't seem to locate Linthe, although I have reports that she was seen on the Promenade less than thirty minutes ago." He paused. "I took the liberty of conducting a search of her quarters. What I found was highly suspicious, to say the least."

"Constable?" Sisko prompted, when Odo stopped.

"The rooms have been ransacked. Among the debris, I found photographs of Doctor Bashir and several personal items belonging to him."

O'Brien let out a long breath. "Dear God," he said softly. "It's true."

"At least we know Julian's still here on the station," Kira pointed out. She refused to think of the other very real possibility, that Bashir was dead.

Sisko nodded grimly. "Which means we missed him, somehow."

"I don't see how that's possible," Odo said. "Every level of the station was searched."

"You're forgetting who we're dealing with," O'Brien said. "She could easily devise a way to block the scanners."

"We'll have to conduct another visual search," Sisko said.

"I have teams already on it," Odo informed them. "I wanted to bring you up to date before I join them."

"Benjamin!" Dax's voice drew their attention to the science station. "I'm picking up an low level power surge on Level Fourteen."

* * * * *

It had taken an eternity for Julian Bashir to pry the cover from the access panel on the wall. His pain numbed right hand was practically useless, slowing him down tremendously.

He wasn't sure exactly what he had done, but a shower of sparks proved that there was a least a small amount of power still running through the circuits. The chances of it being strong enough to register in Ops were slim at best. But it was the best his drugged mind could come up with at the moment.

Bashir leaned back heavily against the wall and tried to think. He had to get help. But how? This level had already been searched. They wouldn't return unless he gave them reason to.

No, he had already thought of that. That's why he had overloaded the circuits in the access panel. He shook his head to dispel the haze in his brain. He was so tired! If he could just rest for a few minutes...

He slid slowly to the floor and drew his knees up to rest his head on. Just a few minutes...No! He pulled himself awake with an effort. He couldn't stay here. Linthe would be coming back.

It took two tries to get back to his feet. Leaning heavily on the wall, Bashir stumbled forward. The movement brought a surge of nausea and dizziness that sent him to his knees. He waited it out and climbed back to his feet.

With each step, the weakness and pain increased. He couldn't go on much further like this, he realized. He had to find someplace to hide until help came. If it came...

* * * * *

Linthe stepped through the wall and stopped short. Julian was gone! That was impossible! There was no way for him to get loose. She had checked the cords binding him before she left. Could he have been found? No, she had seen his friends just moments ago. They were still wallowing in their pious sorrow at his disappearance.

Her eyes swept the room and came to rest on the cords laying beside the candle. She picked them up with a curse. How could she have been so stupid as to have left the candles burning?! No matter. He couldn't have gotten far in his weakened condition.

Linthe tossed the cords aside and stepped back through the wall.

* * * * *

"Deja vu all over again," muttered O'Brien as he and Kira stepped through the door.

"What?" Kira asked, shining her torch around the room. The light played over empty crates and trash strewn haphazardly around. There was nowhere in the almost empty room to hide a prisoner.

"I was just saying how frustrating this is." O'Brien stepped further into the room, his own light going to the back wall.

"Nothing," Kira said disgustedly. "We're running out of options. The power surge came from this level. He has to be here somewhere."

O'Brien sighed deeply and put into words what he had been thinking but was reluctant to voice. "Not necessarily. The surge was too faint to even pinpoint. It could have been a simple glitch."

"Is that what you think?" Kira's pained expression asked him to deny it.

"I don't know anymore," O'Brien admitted. He ran his hand through his curly hair in frustration. "Normally, I would dismiss such a minor surge. But now..."

Kira touched the Human's arm in an uncharacteristic gesture of comfort. "I know. We're...what is it you say all the time?...grasping at hay? But it's the only chance we have at the moment."

O'Brien turned to leave, then stopped, his head lifting slightly. "There it is again. This is the room I heard the hum in before, remember? I hear it again."

Kira cocked her head, listening.

"It's faint, but..." O'Brien stepped over to a wall and placed his hand against it. "There's a vibration here." He ran his hand along the wall toward the back of the room. "It's getting stronger."

O'Brien approached the back wall and reached to lay his hand against it. To his surprise and shock his hand went through the wall! "What the bloody hell?!"

Kira was at his side in an instant. "It's a holographic projection," she whispered in awe.

O'Brien withdrew his hand and stepped through, followed closely by Kira. They stopped short at the sight that greeted them.

Slowly, Kira's hand reached for her communicator. "Kira to Sisko. Captain, I think you had better see this."

* * * * *

"It's Julian's," Dax announced grimly as she ran her tricorder over the blood stain on the floor. "It's no more than two hours old."

Sisko accepted the news with little outward reaction. "So, we know he was injured but alive two hours ago."

"Where is he now?" Kira asked.

"Maybe Linthe suspected we were on to her and moved him," O'Brien suggested.

"I don't think so," Odo said. He had been kneeling, examining the floor for clues. He stood as he spoke. "Doctor Bashir escaped." He held out the burnt cords for the others to see.

"Benjamin," Dax called. She was scanning the container of water. "This water is full of chemicals. Some of them I can't even recognize. Julian has been drugged."

Sisko quelled the knot of pain in his chest. "We have to find him before Linthe does." He turned to Odo. "Concentrate your search teams in this area. If he's drugged, he couldn't have gotten far."

* * * * *

Bashir heard the door slide open. In the darkness, he could just make out the silhouette standing in the doorway. He knew who that was. Think, damn it! Who was it?

Aunt Alison...He remembered now. But where was Jeff? He and his cousin were hiding from Aunt Alison. They were in big trouble, but he couldn't remember what they had done. It didn't matter. He had to stay hidden.

"Julian?" She was moving closer.

With an effort he pulled himself up to a seated position. A footstep sounded nearby. Fear gripped him and Bashir found himself reaching beside him for the metal pipe he knew was there. What was he so afraid of? It was just Aunt Alison.

The door slid open again and someone else stepped into the room. A light played around the room from the direction of the door and came to rest on the woman. She was standing only a few meters from where Bashir sat.

"Linthe!"

He knew that voice. Not Jeff...not Uncle William...Who was it?

The figure at the door reached up and touched something near his shoulder. "I found her."

The woman stepped toward the door. "Chief O'Brien, I'm glad to see you. I was trying to help with the search for Julian. I'm afraid I got lost."

O'Brien? What was he doing here? He wouldn't meet the burly Irishman for years yet. Bashir almost laughed at the absurdity of the thought.

The man in question stepped further into the room. "Save it, Linthe. We know everything -- how you killed Ensign Garbett, sabotaged the runabout to kill Dax, kidnapped Julian."

"I can't believe you think I would be capable of such acts!"

She sounds sincere enough. The man that couldn't be O'Brien should believe her.

"Stop right there," the man ordered. Aunt Alison continued to step closer. No, not Aunt Alison. What had he called her? Linthe . . .

Fear again gripped Bashir's heart at the name. Where did he know it from? He looked back up at the woman. For an instant his vision fogged. He shook his head to clear it.

Linthe lunged suddenly at the man, catching him off guard. O'Brien attempted to swing his phaser around but wasn't quite fast enough.

Bashir staggered to his feet unnoticed as the two fell to the floor, struggling for control of the phaser. Linthe's superior strength succeeded in overpowering the man. She jumped to her feet and thumbed the phaser to a higher setting. She then leveled the weapon at the man on the floor.

She would kill him, Bashir knew. Desperation gave him strength. He half-lunged, half-fell toward her, swinging the metal pipe with his one still functioning hand. The pipe grazed Linthe's head, knocking her to the floor beside the man.

His last reserve of strength spent, Bashir slid to his knees, barely aware of the man's cry of surprise.

* * * * *

O'Brien struggled to his feet and caught Bashir as he slid to the floor. "Julian?" There was no answer. He reached behind him and retrieved his torch. He shined it on the doctor's face and drew in a breath.

Dark bruises and cuts covered the young man's face. A nasty gash above his left eye spilled blood down the side of his face. Though his eyes were open, they focused on nothing.

O'Brien's eyes strayed down to Bashir's hands and his chest tightened painfully. Both hands were badly burned and one had darkened ominously. From the angle it lay he knew that the arm was broken.

He shifted Bashir's weight and reached for his comm badge to call for help. He aborted the move as the door behind him opened.

"Dear God," Sisko breathed, dropping to his knees beside them.

Dax bent over Bashir and turned her tricorder on him. Concern darkened her features. "His system is flooded with drugs. His arm is broken and he has two broken ribs. We have to get him to the infirmary."

Sisko hit his communicator. "Medical emergency..." He stopped and mentally counted heads. "Oh, hell, beam us all to the infirmary."

* * * * *

"How is he?" Kira asked rushing into the infirmary. Her eyes searched for and found the doctor on a nearby bio-bed. He was surrounded by medical personnel.

"He'll be all right, I think," Dax said.

"What happened?" Kira directed her question to Sisko, but it was O'Brien who answered. He quickly filled the Bajoran in on the details of his confrontation with Linthe. He finished with an account of how Bashir had attacked the woman as she was about to use the phaser.

"He saved my life," O'Brien said, his voice filled with respect and gratitude. "Look at him. I'm surprised he could even stand in that condition, yet somehow he managed to stop her."

He broke off as Jabara approached. The Bajoran nurse smiled to relieve their worries. "He'll be all right, I think. I'll know more when we get the lab results back on the drugs in his system. It will take a couple of days to purge them. We'll have to take it slowly to avoid systemic shock. He'll be weak and sick until we do. I can't offer him a painkiller or even a sedative until we know what we're dealing with. We can't be sure how they will react with the drugs Linthe used.

"His other injuries will heal readily enough with the proper care, though his hands will be tender and his wrist will be stiff for a few days."

Jabara paused and frowned, anticipating Sisko's question. "I know you want to see him, sir, but, though he's conscious, I don't think he would even know you were there. He's not thinking clearly, an effect of the drugs."

Sisko nodded gravely. "We'll get out of your way then. Keep me updated, Nurse."

* * * * *

"Julian?" Sisko's voice was soft, though Jabara had assured him the young man was awake.

Slowly, the dark eyes opened. After a minute, the eyes focused and turned to him. Sisko winced at the fatigue and pain he saw there.

"Do you know where you are?" Sisko asked gently. Jabara had warned him that the doctor was still suffering from the effects of the drugs.

It was a long moment before Bashir attempted to answer. "I think so..." He sounded as weak as he looked.

"I won't make you talk. There will be plenty of time later for questions. I just wanted to see if you were all right."

"What about Linthe?"

Sisko frowned at the young man. It was like him to be concerned about the woman. "You gave her a slight concussion, but she'll be all right. O'Brien is one very grateful man, Julian. You saved his life."

Bashir closed his eyes and smiled. "Don't tell him, but I thought he was my uncle."

Sisko returned the smile but decided not to pursue the statement.

Bashir opened his eyes and sought his superior's gaze. "Linthe was ill. I should have realized that."

"It's not your fault, Julian," Sisko began.

The doctor shook his head slightly. "I'm a doctor. I should have seen that she needed help before she got that far." He stopped and swallowed hard. "Jibril is dead, Dax could have been..."

"You're only Human." The words were little comfort, Sisko knew. "Kira said pretty much the same thing just a little while ago."

Bashir looked up weakly, his eyes holding a question.

"She's feeling guilty for not taking your concerns about Linthe serious."

Concern momentarily replaced the pain in the young man's eyes. "Kira couldn't have known--"

"And neither could you," Sisko interrupted.

A half-smile worked at one corner of Julian's mouth. "Maybe...you're right." His voice was growing weaker.

"Of course I am. Captains are always right. It's in the job description." Sisko paused. There was a lot he wanted to say to the young man. Things that maybe should have been said a long time ago. Funny how you never realize how much is left unsaid until you think you will never have the chance to say it.

He stopped as he caught sight of the doctor. Julian's eyes fluttered and drifted closed. Sisko smiled to himself, then reached over and squeezed the doctor's shoulder. "Get some rest, Julian. We can talk later."

He stood for a few minutes, watching the young man as he slept. There was plenty of time, he realized with relief. They would definitely talk later.

* * * * *

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