Risky storytelling is a successful ploy

Rhonda’s Take on Episode 2.14: “Whispers”

This episode uses my least favorite storytelling technique: the fakeout.

I am not a published novelist, memoirist, or scriptwriter. My published writings include entertainment reviews for several online sites and a handful of poems and short stories in literary magazines or anthologies. However, I consider myself a student of the craft and, therefore, qualified to critique the techniques used by other writers.

If you were a student in my creative writing class (yes, in real life, I teach high school English and creative writing), I would strongly urge you to avoid the fakeout, whether it be the dream sequence or, like here, not the real character. My objection to this technique is that it is disingenuous to the relationship between author and reader. The author has asked the reader to invest in the characters introduced and then the author snatches away the metaphorical rug to say, “Oh, you cared about these guys? Nevermind!” Notice though I said, “strongly urge.” There are no unbreakable rules in writing; it’s one of the many things that makes writing, especially writing well, a challenge.

It means that I have to applaud the creators of Deep Space Nine for taking such a risk in telling “Whispers.” I’m still not a fan of the fakeout, but there’s an argument to be made that it is done successfully here.

Can we start with that title? (Does anyone else pay as much attention to titles as I do?) “Whispers” contains so many layers of meaning here. There are the “whispers” that our not-quite-right O’Brien hears telling him to question everything. They are part of the red herring that leads us to believe O’Brien has been infected or gone crazy. There are the “whispers” that the crew are exchanging behind O’Brien’s back, like rumors poisoning the well. They provide the other half of the red herring that makes us question whether it is O’Brien or the crew who are acting strange.

The structure of the episode is unique as well. We start after the bulk of the events have occurred with O’Brien coming out of the wormhole in the Gamma Quadrant and telling us via his personal log that he will be setting the record straight about the past 52 hours. Then, we move forward through those hours with brief returns to him on the runabout so that we don’t forget we are experiencing the events through his retelling.

The uniqueness of the episode allows us to see each of our characters through a different lens. Unfortunately, Keiko still seems like a horrible wife! She’s cagey around him and desperate to keep their daughter away from him. When he gets frisky, she is cold as ice. His daughter spurns him! Clearly Momma has told her to stay away from Daddy! (Knowing the end, we can’t blame these behaviors, but it feels too in character for Keiko!) Fake O’Brien drops accurate character details, such as excusing Keiko gossiping with Sisko behind his back as the possibility of them planning a surprise party knowing that he doesn’t like surprise parties or sniping with Bashir during his medical exam. (O’Brien shouting, “Especially euphoria! Lots of euphoria!” is destined to be a classic line.) Our fake O’Brien recorded the detail that Sisko fondled his baseball as he apologized for “dropped the ball” on letting the chief know he’d reassigned security preparations. In the retelling, Jake is respectful, but quick to turn O’Brien over to authorities.

There’s such a nice use of the unreliable narrator throughout as O’Brien talks about himself in third person and questions what he is seeing from the others. He constantly declares that those around him are not themselves, but it serves to develop the sense he is not himself. He goes to Odo who he thinks is an ally and Quark, who inadvertently causes more suspicion by saying “the odds are against you.” While Quark makes it clear he is referring to the rematch of the racquetball game between O’Brien and Bashir that was interrupted by the luck virus in episode 2.11 “Rivals,” we, and O’Brien, feel like it is a warning in the current situation.

Of course, fake O’Brien has been so well-created that he believes he is the real Miles and, therefore, is difficult to detect as an imposter. It also means that he is as clever as the real O’Brien and is able to outsmart everyone on the station using O’Brien’s knowledge of the station and engineering: he climbs through the Jeffries tubes, beams out of a cargo bay, releases the mooring clamps and disables the tractor beam. To reinforce the wonderfulness that is O’Brien, Sisko praises the fake as “trying to be a hero.” Fake O’Brien’s last words are, “Tell Keiko I love…,” which reminds us that while a practical man, he is still at heart a romantic.

Side note: It didn’t pay off, but I became obsessed with counting every time O’Brien ordered, “Jamaican coffee, double strong, double sweet” (four times, roughly every 10 minutes of the episode). I don’t drink coffee, but I kinda want to try Jamaican coffee, double strong, double sweet in honor of O’Brien.