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In the Cards

Did you hear about the Tian An Men?

She was reported missing last night near the Cardassian border.

That's three in the last three weeks.

At this rate, we're going to run out of ships.

Well, that's not funny.

It wasn't meant to be.

Unless Starfleet Command actually starts doing something about the Dominion threat, the situation's only going to get worse.

Well, what do you want, Julian, a war?

What I want is to talk about something else.

Chief... what about Kirayoshi?

Is he walking yet?

No.

Not yet, no.

Odo, I understand you're going to Bajor next week.

Do you plan to see Dr. Mora?

Uh... actually, I've canceled my trip.

There's been a 75 percent jump in the theft of medical supplies and food rations on DS9.

I haven't seen such an increase since...

Since?

Since just before the Cardassians were forced to abandon the station.

On that note,

I think I'll turn in.

Oh, me, too.

Thank you for dinner, Captain.

It was wonderful.

It was my pleasure.

Sir.

Good night, everyone.

Mr. Worf.

You've been paroled.

The party's over.

Thank you, sir.

Good night.

Don't bother.

I'll clean the rest up later.

I want to be alone for a while.

Go on.

Okay.

Good night, sir.

( beeping )

OPS OFFICER: Ops to Captain Sisko.

Go ahead.

OPS OFFICER: We just received a message from Bajor, sir.

Kai Winn will be coming to the station tomorrow morning, and she'd like to meet with you.

Acknowledged.

Thanks for the invitation, Jake.

That was a lot of fun.

Did you see how down my dad was?

He tried to hide it, but I could tell he was depressed.

He's not the only one.

Look around.

There's something in the air.

People are scared.

Yeah, but he's usually the one who tries to lift everyone's spirits.

I mean, people go to him for encouragement.

Where does he go when he needs it?

I hope I'll be seeing the two of you tomorrow at 1200 hours.

Why?

Why? Haven't you heard?

There's going to be an auction of some of the galaxy's rarest and most valuable antiquities.

Here. Find something you like and make a bid with all that latinum you've got stashed under your bed.

Shh!

Oh, Nog, you don't really keep it under your bed?

No, of course not.

Where'd you get all this stuff, Quark?

I'm just conducting the auction for a modest commission.

The items up for sale were all aboard an old derelict freighter that the Bajorans found adrift about a light-year from here.

The cargo hold was crammed with valuable items of every description:

Antiques, paintings, vehicles.

It's all a bunch of junk.

Listen to some of this stuff.

A mid-24th century, ceramic Romulan water basin-- slightly cracked.

A pair of Tellarite shoes-- date unknown.

A mid-20th century hu-man baseball card.

A Tholian pedestal--

A baseball card!

A mint condition, 1951

Willie Mays rookie card!

Nog, this is it!

What do you mean?

It's perfect.

This is how I can cheer up my dad.

You know how much he loves baseball.

He'll go nuts when he sees this.

Tell him to be here at 1200 hours, and he can bid along with everyone else.

No. I'm going to bid on this.

He's always doing things for me.

I want to do something for him for a change.

And this is it.

All I have to do is get him this card.

How hard can that be?

Come on, Nog.

No.

Why not?

It's my money, Jake.

If you want to bid at the auction, use your own money.

I'm human-- I don't have any money.

It's not my fault your species decided to abandon currency-based economics in favor of some philosophy of self-enhancement.

Hey, watch it.

There's nothing wrong with our philosophy.

We work to better ourselves and the rest of humanity.

What does that mean exactly?

It means... it means we don't need money.

Well, if you don't need money, then you certainly don't need mine.

How much latinum do you have?

How much?

Five bars.

Five bars!

Look, it's taken me a lifetime to save up that much money, and I'm not just going to throw it away for some baseball card.

Not even for my father-- the man who made it possible for you to enter Starfleet Academy?

Oh, no. That's not fair.

The man who believed in you when no one else would.

Oh, this is so low.

I can't believe you'd rather keep your filthy money locked up in a box under a bed than use it to give him endless moments of happiness.

( screams )

All right! All right!

I'll do it.

That's very generous of you, Nog.

I'm proud of you.

Now, let's get that money.

Hu-mans.

( door chimes )

Come in.

Welcome back to Deep Space 9,

Your Eminence.

Thank you, Emissary.

You may go now, child.

Thank you.

Why don't we take a walk?

A walk?

Yes. Would you mind?

SISKO: Something wrong, Eminence?

No, nothing wrong, but there was a shop down there, as I recall-- a woman who sold Bajoran tapestries and antiques.

Ah. Kandra Vilk.

Yes.

I believe she moved to a neutral world near the Cordon system about two months ago.

So many people have left Deep Space 9 in the last few months.

I'm sure there are times when you must feel as if you're being abandoned here.

Forgive me, Eminence, but I have a very busy day ahead of me.

I'm here to meet a representative of the Dominion.

To what end?

I... I don't know.

This meeting is being held at their request.

You disapprove?

I'm concerned.

The Dominion is notorious for its political intrigue.

Well, I have some experience in that area, as well.

This is a delicate moment for Bajor.

This conflict between the Federation and the Dominion could escalate into open warfare at any moment.

A misstep now could result in the destruction of our world.

For once, I am in complete agreement with you.

You have my word

I will do whatever it takes to safeguard Bajor.

Walk with the Prophets.

QUARK: The bid is to you, sir-- one bar, three strips.

Don't let the lady steal this fine example of post-Eventualistic, pre-Matoian bronze and triptin sculpture for such a pittance.

One bar, three strips.

One bar, four strips, and it's all yours-- an honorable addition to any Klingon household.

Remember... all the proceeds from this auction go to the Bajoran War Orphans Fund... minus a modest commission.

Think of those poor, lonely children and how much your latinum will mean to them.

Looks like the kids will have to make do with one bar, three strips.

Sold to the blue man in the good shoes.

( smattering of applause )

Lot 48.

An Andorian chest containing a pre-Surak Vulcan bracelet, a sixth-century Bajoran mandala, a 23rd century ion-transtator, a Willie Mays baseball card from Earth, dated 1951.

Who will start the bidding with one bar of gold-pressed latinum?

One bar.

One bar.

Do I hear one bar, five strips?

One bar, five strips.

Do I hear one bar, ten?

Don't worry.

He'll drop out at two bars.

How do you know that?

I'm still a Ferengi.

One bar, ten.

One bar, ten.

One, 15?

One, 15. One, 20?

One, 20.

One, 25?

Two bars.

The bid is two bars.

Do I hear two bars, five?

Vedek, are you in?

I told you.

Two bars, five.

Three bars.

Four bars.

Jake.

Ten bars.

The bid is ten bars of gold-pressed latinum.

Is there another bid?

What do we do now?

Nothing. We're out of money.

QUARK: Jake, do you want to make another bid?

Sold to the gentleman sitting in the aisle.

Lot 49.

A rare example of a 20th-century human art form-- acrylic on black velvet.

This image was the inspiration for the flag of the Martian Colony in the 22nd....

Look, I-I-I know you wanted that card, but we lost it, okay?

So let's come up with something else to cheer up your dad, huh?

Uh... like a new pair of shoes.

Shoes?

What's wrong with shoes?

Nothing, except it's stupid.

I want to give my dad something that'll bring a little joy into his life.

Something special.

I'm telling you, that baseball card is the answer.

It's kismet.

"Kiss you"?

Kismet-- fate.

Destiny.

I was meant to give that card to my father.

Jake, I think you're taking this whole baseball card thing way too seriously.

It's not the card.

It's my dad.

This is very important to me.

My father's never let me down.

He's always been there for me when I needed him, and right now, he needs me.

I don't want to let him down.

Nog, please.

Let's get that card.

( sighs )

All right.

What do you want to do?

Sir.

Excuse me.

Sir? Could we talk to you for a minute?

Who sent you?

No one.

We wish to discuss a business transaction.

Not interested.

You don't even know what it is yet.

We just want to buy the baseball card.

Listen to me.

I haven't done anything wrong, and I won't be hounded by you and your soulless minions of orthodoxy.

I haven't broken any laws, except, perhaps, the laws of nature... so stay away from me.

Habitat Ring.

Captain Sisko!

I can't tell you how happy I am to see you again.

I wish I could say the same.

( laughs )

How delightful!

You feel comfortable enough around me to make jokes.

I'm so pleased to see our relationship evolving beyond the stale adversarial stage.

No, it's not, but before you twist that into a compliment, let me be blunt: I don't like the Dominion.

I don't like what it stands for, and I don't like you.

So let's dispense with the hollow pleasantries and stick to business.

I can't tell you how it pains me to hear you say that, Captain.

You see, I really like Deep Space 9 and I like you, and after this meeting with Kai Winn,

I think you and I will be seeing a lot more of each other.

Jake... Jake!

He wants to see us!

Who? Dr. Giger-- the man who bought the baseball card.

He wants us to come to his quarters.

He says he's willing to make a deal.

You're kidding.

No. He left a message for us about an hour ago.

It said to meet him at 1800 hours.

That's in ten minutes. Let's go.

Remember-- let me do the talking.

You?!

You had your chance on the Promenade.

Now, stand aside and let a professional handle this.

( equipment buzzing and beeping )

Step out of the doorway, please, and don't touch anything.

This is very sensitive equipment.

I did some checking on you two.

It turns out that you are the Station Commander's son and you are the nephew of the man who owns the bar.

That's right.

Since you are not, in fact, working for the soulless minions of orthodoxy that have hounded my work and plagued my existence,

I have decided to open negotiations regarding the sale of a mint condition 1951 Willie Mays rookie card-- without the original packaging or chewing gum.

Excellent. We would like to open the negotiations with a bid--

The card is not for sale.

What?!

But you just said--

I am willing to trade the card in exchange for the following items.

"Two liters of anaerobic metabolites suspended

"in a hydrosaline solution... a neodymium power cell..."

Where are we supposed to get all this stuff?

Surely the Station Commander's son and a promising young cadet have access to a wide variety of equipment and supplies that would not be available to someone like myself.

It's a very long list.

It'll take some doing.

Wait a minute.

What are you planning to do with these things?

Nog...

Look, we can't start delivering equipment and medical supplies to you without knowing what you're going to do with them.

Very well, young man.

Let me ask you both a simple question.

Do you want to die?

No.

Not really.

Of course you don't. So why should you?

Why should any of us end up as putrefying corpses in wooden boxes stuck in the ground?

Or vaporized into subatomic particles and vented into the cosmos like a bad case of gas?

No reason that I can think of.

I have devoted my life... to the study of death, and do you know what I found?

Death is nothing more than the result of cellular boredom.

"Boredom?"

Think about it.

The cells in your body have been doing the same job-- the same dull, monotonous routine every day since you were conceived:

Metabolize, divide, metabolize, divide.

Wouldn't you get bored?

Of course you would.

So, at some point, the cells just say

"That's it."

And you, the unwary victim of cellular ennui, are quite literally... bored to death.

I never thought about it that way.

Dr. Bathkin of Andros III was the first to come up with the answer to solving the puzzle of death:

Keep the cells energized.

Keep them in the game by teaching them new mitochondrial tricks.

Unfortunately, before he could finish his work,

Dr. Bathkin died in a shuttle accident.

Or so they say.

And while the soulless minions of orthodoxy refuse to follow up on his important research,

I could hear the clarion call of destiny ringing in my ears.

And now, after 15 years of tireless effort, after being laughed at and hounded out of the halls of the scientific establishment... after begging and scrounging for materials across half the galaxy...

I have nearly completed work... on this:

The cellular regeneration... and entertainment chamber.

What does it do?

I'm glad you asked.

It is specially designed to transmit biogenic energy on a chromoelectric wavelength and send uplifting... and entertaining messages to the nuclei of every cell in your body.

Spend eight hours a day in this machine, and your cells will never get bored.

You will never grow old... and most important... you will never die.

That is the goal of my work-- nothing less than immortality itself.

Excuse us for a moment.

Of course.

What do you think?

I don't know.

I'm no expert in cellular chemistry, but his theory sounds a little odd to me.

He had me going there for a minute, but... a cellular entertainment machine?

He's crazy, isn't he?

Completely.

But he does have the baseball card.

So?

So, that means we've got to help him.

I'm not so sure this is such a good idea.

Nog, I can't let my father down.

Let him down?

Your father doesn't even know this card exists.

I don't know which of you is crazier.

I'm not crazy.

I'm... just a little obsessed.

"A little"?

Okay, Doctor.

We're in.

Do you how many germs are transmitted by a handshake?

You want to kill me?

Just nod if we have a deal.

Him, too.

JAKE: Hey, Chief, we need a neodymium power cell from a Cardassian phase-coil inverter.

You think you could help us out?

That's an unusual piece of equipment.

What do you need that for?

We have to trade it for a--

It's kind of a secret.

Well, I'm sure there's an old cell lying around here somewhere, but I don't have time to scrounge around for it at the moment.

What's the matter with you?

Just tell him you're trying to give your father a gift.

No! I want it to be a surprise.

You know you can't keep a secret on this station.

If I tell the Chief, he tells Keiko, Keiko tells Dax--

But you're not giving him any reason to help us.

Okay, let me show you a little something about incentive-based economics, huh?

Chief, may I ask you a question?

Wouldn't you rather be doing something else right now?

( scoffing ): Almost anything.

But isn't there something specific you'd rather be doing?

Uh... like, uh... going to the holosuites, maybe?

Sure.

I bet you'd rather be kayaking right now, wouldn't you?

You probably haven't shot those rapids in weeks.

No interruptions... no maintenance schedules... just you and the river.

Hmm... well, that's what I'd be doing right now if Decker hadn't gotten sick.

But I have to recalibrate all these EPS regulators, so they don't interfere with the station's artificial gravity grid.

What if someone else recalibrated the regulators for you, huh?

Someone... like us?

You'd do that for me?

Absolutely!

Don't give it a second thought.

Just go shoot those rapids.

Thanks, thanks a lot.

I owe you one.

Our pleasure, and, Chief... about that power cell...?

Oh, yeah...

I think I know where there's one.

I'll have it sent up to your quarters.

Thanks, Chief.

( chuckling )

( sighing ): Come on.

You calibrate, I'll scan.

Five liters of anaerobic metabolites suspended in hydrosaline solution.

What could you possibly want with that?

We can't tell you.

It's a surprise for someone.

They're not going to drink it, are they?

( chuckling ): Oh, no...

At least, I don't know-- is he?

Look, I don't have time for this.

Uh...

Can I ask you one question?

Wouldn't you rather be doing something else right now?

No.

No?

No. This is the first chance I've had to get any research done on my prion project in five months.

You couldn't drag me away from here.

Oh.

What Jake is trying to say is that you seem... unhappy.

I... suppose I have been feeling a little down, now you come to mention it.

Just out of curiosity, if you had to name one thing that would make you happy right now, what would it be?

I don't know.

Humor me. One thing-- anything at all.

Kukalaka.

Excuse me?

That's what I want.

Leeta borrowed him-- said he was "cute"-- but she never brought him back.

Kuka-what?

Kukalaka.

You bring him to me, and you'll have earned yourselves five liters of anaerobic metabolites suspended in hydrosaline solution.

Done!

Uh, just one thing, Doctor.

What's a Kukalaka?

Weyoun has made a startling proposal.

The Dominion wishes to sign a nonaggression treaty with Bajor.

They're trying to split Bajor from the Federation.

Forgive me, Emissary, but you've already done that.

It was your advice six months ago that kept Bajor out of the Federation.

How did you put it?

"Bajor must stand alone."

Well, we are very much alone now.

Even though you're not a member of the Federation,

Starfleet is committed to the protection of your world.

We're not going to stand idly by and watch the Dominion conquer Bajor.

Can you promise me that you will not let one Jem'Hadar soldier set foot on Bajor?

Can you promise me that you will use your entire fleet to protect our planet, even if it means sacrificing other worlds like Vulcan or Andor or Berengaria... or perhaps even Earth itself?

I can't make that kind of promise.

I wouldn't believe you if you did.

So you see my predicament?

If we ally ourselves with the Federation against the Dominion, we risk becoming the first casualty of the next war.

And if you ally yourselves with the Dominion, you risk becoming the next conquered world.

A most unhappy choice.

I have asked the Prophets to guide me, but they have not answered my prayers.

I even consulted the Orb of Wisdom before coming here, and it has told me nothing.

So I come to you, Emissary.

You have heard the voice of the Prophets.

You were sent here to guide us through troubled times.

Tell me what to do, and I will do it.

How can I save Bajor?

You want my advice?

Then, this is it-- stall.

Tell Weyoun you have to consult with the Council of Ministers or you have to meditate on your response-- anything you want-- but you have to stall for time.

Time? For what?

I don't know.

But I do know the moment of crisis isn't here yet, and until that moment arrives, we have to keep Bajor's options open.

I'm aware that this is difficult for you given our past.

But this time, you have to trust me.

Very well, Emissary.

We put ourselves in your hands.

May we all walk with the Prophets.

( door opens, closes )

( sighing )

Refreshed... regenerated... mildly entertained.

I still get a little bored after the first five hours.

I've got half the things you wanted.

Good, good.

Where's the hydrosaline solution?

We should have it soon.

Nog just got the bear.

Don't ask.

Ah...

( electronic beeping )

( equipment powers up )

Do you know what that is?

It's the sound of immortality.

( deep, whirring hum )

( device beeping )

( muted deep, whirring hum )

What's going on down there?

( Klingon opera blaring )

Nog?!

Turn that down!

Nog!

I'm working out here!

So am I!

I have to listen to all of Worf's opera recordings and filter out the sub-harmonic distortions!

Can you turn that down?!

I'm trying to add a little humor to Kira's speech to the Agricultural Delegation!

No! I have to listen at precisely 82 decibels, because that's the volume Worf listens at.

Of course, if I could have simply told him why I needed two meters of electro-plasma conduit from the Defiant, he probably would have just given it to me and things would be a lot quieter around here!

We can't tell anybody, Nog!

( opera stops playing )

Now, listen to this for a second.

"Thank you for that kind introduction,

"and thank you for inviting me to address you

"here tonight.

"I've always thought it odd

"that the topic of water reclamation was usually treated as such a dry subject."

Is that funny?

No.

( opera resumes )

I didn't think so, either.

Would you watch it with that thing?!

Try staying out of the way!

He's probably sleeping in his cellular entertainment thing again.

( sighing )

It's not locked.

No, there is no record of a Dr. Giger being assigned to those quarters.

He was there, Odo.

Maybe the soulless minions of orthodoxy finally caught up with him.

The who?

We don't know who they are, but they were after

Dr. Giger's cellular regeneration and entertainment chamber.

His what?

( sighs )

It's a device used to keep the cells in your body from getting bored.

You see, he was going to transmit messages to people's cells to keep them entertained so they wouldn't die off, and as a result, these people would... live forever.

Uh-huh.

Do you really think he's going to charge us with filing false reports, obstructing justice, being public nuisances?

I can't have that on my Academy record.

I think he was just trying to scare us.

Nog, look.

NOG: It's Kai Winn.

JAKE: Do you see who she's talking to?

That's the Vedek who was bidding against us at the auction.

Jake, I don't know what you're thinking, but I'm sure I'm not going to like it.

Don't you see?

The Vedek was bidding on that lot, because there was an old Bajoran mandala in there.

He must have been working for the Kai.

When they lost, the Kai must have gotten angry, and we all know how dangerous she is when she's angry.

What are you saying?

That in order to get the mandala, she kidnapped Giger?

It all makes sense now.

( sighs )

Jake, I'm really starting to worry about you.

Come on.

Where are we going?

Let me introduce you to a new human expression.

We're going to beard the lion in its den.

( sighs )

Lions, Gigers, bears...

( sighs )

Oh, my.

I hope you've found our talks as rewarding as I have, Your Eminence.

May I inquire if you plan on giving the First Minister a positive recommendation regarding the nonaggression pact?

I'm afraid I cannot reveal my recommendations to the First Minister.

You understand.

Of course, of course.

Forgive me for even asking.

It is enough to know that you and I have found so many common interests.

I feel... that we are very much alike.

No, we are nothing alike.

Nothing at all.

What is it, my children?

We need to talk.

You accused the Kai of burglary and kidnapping?!

We didn't really accuse her of anything.

Oh, I see-- you just implied it.

Exactly.

Are you trying to be funny, Cadet?

Because I'm not laughing.

No, sir.

I want an explanation, and I want it now.

Well, sir, it all began in my Uncle Quark's bar when we saw this list--

We were in the bar, and I-I guess we got a little drunk.

Jake!

It won't do any good to lie about it, Nog.

What?!

Captain, I would like to separate myself--

As you were, Cadet.

Drunk.

I see that my faith in the two of you has sadly been misplaced.

You both are confined to quarters until further notice.

Dismissed!

What did you say that for?

I didn't want him to know about the baseball card.

Of course not.

If you tell him about the card, he might forgive us.

He might even be grateful for all the effort we've gone through just to make him happy, and we certainly don't want that.

Habitat Ring.

Once we get the card, everything will be fine.

Jake, as your friend, I think I should tell you you're starting to go over the edge.

You need to get some perspective on all this.

You need to get away, clear your head.

This isn't what I had in mind.

Do you think I'm a fool?

Let's start at the beginning.

What is the nature of your relationship with Dr. Elias Giger?

We barely know him.

He had a baseball card that I wanted to give to my father to cheer him up.

My father's the Station Commander, by the way.

I know who your father is.

Go on.

That's it.

We wanted the card, and so we agreed to help him get a few things for his research.

We got all the equipment, but he disappeared about three hours ago and we haven't seen him since.

Do you really expect me to believe that everything you've been doing for the last 22 hours has been perfectly innocent?

That it was merely a coincidence that Dr. Giger has been running experiments with highly charged polaric particles directly below my quarters?

I suppose there's also an innocent explanation to the secret meetings you've been having with virtually the entire senior staff of Deep Space 9, or that Kai Winn met with you immediately after leaving me?

I suggest that you stop playing games with me and tell me the truth... quickly.

This is all just a misunderstanding.

Nothing's going on, and we're certainly not involved in some secret plot against--

You betrayed me.

You turned me over to these soulless minions of orthodoxy.

Well, they won't discover the secret of my work without a... fight.

So... there are secrets after all.

There shouldn't be any secrets between friends, Jake, and I do want to be your friend.

Do something.

All right.

We'll tell you the truth.

I'm listening.

We weren't supposed to divulge this, but since you left us no choice... we're working for Starfleet Intelligence.

Oh, no.

Forget about it, Nog.

We have to tell him.

We're investigating the man whose picture is in your hand right now.

Until yesterday, that man-- one Willie Mays-- did not exist in any historical documents.

( sighs )

Then, in the blink of an eye, that card appeared on the station.

And at that same moment, a bust of Willie Mays appeared at the Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, New York.

There's only one explanation.

We suspect that this man... is from the future.

A time-traveler?

That's right.

And so far, that card is the only link we have to him.

We must find out what he's planning to do in the past or what he may have done already.

We need that card.

The entire future of the galaxy may depend on us tracking down Willie Mays and stopping him.

I believe you.

You do?

Yes.

That is, I believe your first story-- that you're two innocent boys trying to give a gift to Captain Sisko.

You are very wise.

Which still leaves the question-- what you were doing beneath my quarters.

NOG: He's harmless.

He's just working on a way to become immortal.

Really?

I have a background in... shall we say, creative genetics.

I'd be most interested in hearing your theories.

Well, it may take some time to explain.

Let me ask you a simple question.

Do you want to die?

NOG: Uh, excuse me.

Can we go?

Of course.

Thank you.

WEYOUN: Aren't you forgetting something?

Captain's Log, Stardate 50929.4.

Two days ago, this station felt like a tomb.

I'd never seen so many of my crew

depressed at the same time.

But for some reason it now seems as though a new spirit

has swept through the station,

as if someone had opened a door

and let a gust of fresh air

blow through a musty old house.

Why this is happening, frankly, is a mystery to me.

After all, nothing has really changed.

The Dominion is still a threat,

the Cardassians are still threatening

to retake the station, and I can still see

the clouds of war gathering on the horizon.

So why do I sense a new-found sense of optimism in the air?

But maybe I'm overthinking this.

Maybe the real explanation is as simple

as something my father taught me a long time ago.

Even in the darkest moments, you can always find something

that'll make you smile.