—and Miras was finally taken away from the unfortunate scene, just as she registered that the face beneath the mask was no longer Bajoran.

It had been Cardassian.

There was almost no time to consider what it meant, for Miras was suddenly home again, at the very center of Cardassia City, the environment grainy and one-dimensional, like a very old image capture. She recognized it, but at the same time she did not—for the capital of Cardassia Prime lay in ruins, great heaps of smoking rubble and debris blocking the streets, the aftermath of a devastating attack. Bodies were everywhere, Cardassian men, women, and children. The stench of death and burning composite was terrible, cloying.

In horror and panic, Miras squeezed her eyes tightly shut and tried once again to tear the mask from her face. At last, she was successful. When she opened her eyes again, she was in the laboratory, the Orb case was closed, and someone was pounding on the door. Before Miras had time to think, Kalisi burst into the room, her face reading fearful bewilderment.

“Miras! What happened in here? The inventory staff was trying to contact you, and the ministry computer indicated that you weren’t in the room—that you weren’t even in the building!They tried to transport the object out but they couldn’t get a lock on it. They called me because the artifact was under my clearance, but then my thumbscan wouldn’t open the door!”

Miras tried to slow her own frightened breathing back to normal, but she was still continuing to receive images and thoughts that were not her own, like faded pictures in a dream, like connections made in deepest slumber.

“Kalisi…I have seen the devastation of Cardassia Prime. I have seen…there is a man on Bajor…his name is Gar Osen…but…but it isn’t his real name. He—he isn’t really a Bajoran, he’s there to—oh, he must not find the final Orb! Cardassia will be destroyed!”

Kalisi’s eyes widened in concern and confusion, and Miras realized how utterly insane her ramblings must sound. Whatever had happened to her, she felt she must not embarrass herself or her friend.

“Forgive me,” she said. “I…believe I need to eat something. How long have I been in here?”

“All afternoon,” Kalisi told her, placing her hand on Miras’s arm. “I think food is a very good idea.” She glanced at the object as it was transported back to storage, her expression even more anxious than before, and Miras stumbled along after her friend, trying to straighten out her thoughts.

“There must have been a malfunction with the linkup to this lab,” Miras suggested. “That must be why you couldn’t contact me, why the object wouldn’t transport to the storage facility.”

“Of course,” Kalisi said. “It might also explain why my thumbscan didn’t work at first.” She did not sound especially convinced. “Miras, I think I will take you up on your earlier offer of a meal. It would do us both good, I think, to catch up a bit. It has been a long time.”

“Yes,” Miras agreed. “Too long.” Her head was finally beginning to clear, and she felt foolish for the nonsense that she had just sputtered, and unnerved by the things she had seen. There had to be a scientific explanation for what had happened, some technology—obviously, it had produced a dampening effect on the ministry’s computer system. Considering the chaos she had caused, she knew that she would not get another chance to look at the Orb. And considering what she’d seen, she thought that that was just as well.

Lenaris Holem was dozing in his makeshift home when someone rapped heavily on his door. He stumbled to answer, blinking in the orange light of the setting sun. The visitor proved to be Ornathia Delle, a round-faced woman of about thirty, one of the people who was conspiring to help Taryl get her brother off Terok Nor.

“Holem,” she whispered, looking around nervously. “Taryl says she’s found something that could help us rescue Lac.” She hunched down slightly, as if it would make the pitch of her voice even lower. “Someone contacted her—someone who says they’ve been on the station.”

Lenaris stepped out into the dying sunlight. “I’ll go talk to her,” he said.

Delle shook her head. “She says not to. She said Seefa is getting suspicious.”

Lenaris was getting tired of sneaking around behind Seefa’s back. Since he’d come to stay with the Ornathias, he’d finally begun to understand why Taryl cared for Seefa; for all his pessimism and neurotic habits, the quirky young man was very bright and entirely devoted to Taryl. Still, if Seefa didn’t like what they were up to, perhaps he should go elsewhere. Ignoring Delle’s warnings, Lenaris headed for Taryl’s house.

A few steps from her door, Lenaris was intercepted by Seefa, who looked troubled. Lenaris attempted to walk right past him, but Seefa addressed him directly. It seemed he’d just left Taryl, as he kept glancing back at her door.

“Seefa.” Lenaris nodded in turn, trying to sound casual. “I’ve just come to check on the progress of those new sensors that Taryl said she was working on.”

Seefa didn’t seem suspicious, only worried, and maybe even sad. “She’s very upset about Lac,” he said, almost to himself. “I’m foolish to be putting pressure on her right now.”

Lenaris was puzzled. It was not unusual for Seefa to suddenly blurt out strange pieces of personal information, but that didn’t make this any easier to understand. “I suppose that’s wise, considering her brother’s disappearance.”

“It’s just…we’ve been engaged our entire lives. I don’t understand why we can’t just make it official. Taryl says that the middle of the Cardassian occupation is no time for a wedding. But I think she’s wrong. We have to be able to go on with certain aspects of our lives; we have to be able to occasionally indulge ourselves with small measures of happiness where we can take it. Don’t you think I’m right, Holem?”

Lenaris knew better than to get in a disagreement with Seefa, or even a discussion about how to live one’s life. Taryl’s betrothed was not the sort of person that one wanted to engage in argument; he was perpetually answering questions with more questions, or changing the subject so that any specific aspect of a discussion would never be fully addressed. Brilliant, perhaps, but tiresome.

“Sure,” Lenaris said. “Yes.” His heart dipped as he said it. He continued to work to put his own feelings for Taryl aside, all too aware that they were wasted. Although it wasn’t what he truly wanted, he’d resigned himself to being her friend a long time before.

He looked out to the west, where the old road had once been. He thought he had seen a moving object in the sideline of his vision. In fact, there wassomething moving. It was a person, that much was clear, but whether it was male or female, Bajoran or Cardassian, it was much harder to tell in the fading light.

Lenaris walked a little closer to have a better look, Seefa following. After a moment, Lenaris could be fairly certain that the person was a Bajoran, probably a woman, and…she wore the raiment of a monk.

“It’s Winn Adami,” Seefa said.

“Who?”

“She’s well known around here. She has long been advocating for a full-scale effort to repair the irrigation systems. Her order does not approve of the departure from the D’jarras—she’s in favor of fighting the Cardassians, but she thinks the fighting should be left to others. She believes our responsibility is to feed Bajor, not to fight for it.”

“Does she come to preach the castes, then?”

Seefa shrugged. “I imagine she has more reason than that. She disagrees with us, but she’s still very well respected. Several years ago, she bribed a Cardassian official who was sending a large group of Bajorans from a nearby village to be executed. Because of her intervention, the shuttle was diverted to a work camp. She saved their lives.”

“Really?” Lenaris squinted.