“Yes, I know,” Reyar said, but she still did not extend her hand, and Mora slowly let his drop.

“I wanted you to meet, because I will be putting the two of you together very soon,” Yopal said.

Mora felt his heart skip a beat.

“Not right away, but probably sometime in the coming months. That will give you time to wrap up your current projects.”

“Even Odo?” Mora spoke without meaning to, unable to help it. “He needs constant observation, he needs guidance, supervision. Nobody knows him as well as I do, nobody else can—”

“You will still be permitted to work with Odo in your spare time,” Yopal told Mora crisply. “Just not as often. I suggest you let him know right away, so that he can become acclimated to the change.”

Mora breathed a small sigh of relief. It wasn’t ideal, but at least Odo was not being assigned to someone else. Of course, there was still the matter of this Doctor Reyar…Mora turned to her again. “I look forward to working with you,” he said, trying to sound genuine. He hoped she was at least as tolerable as Yopal.

“Doctor Mora is one of the good Bajorans,” Yopal told Reyar. “He is cooperative, obedient…”

Reyar smiled. “That reminds me of a little joke I heard on the transport here,” she said. “Someone said that the only good Bajoran is one who is about to be executed.” She laughed out loud, and Yopal chuckled politely. Mora began to cough, and for a moment he could not stop.

Yopal patted Mora’s shoulder. “It’s only a joke, of course.”

“Of course,” Mora replied, still coughing.

“Perhaps you’d like to see Doctor Mora’s pet project,” Yopal suggested to the new scientist.

Reyar did not appear to have an opinion one way or the other, but Yopal nodded briskly and the three began to walk down the hall to Mora’s lab. Yopal stood back while Mora opened the door, and the three entered, revealing that Odo had been sitting in the same place since Mora had left him. Reyar gasped.

“What is it?” she asked, and took a step in Odo’s direction.

“He is a shape-shifter,” Mora answered, walking protectively toward Odo. “We don’t know where he came from, and we’ve never seen anything like him. He seems to be unrelated to any of the known shape-shifting species, with a morphogenic matrix that is utterly unlike the Antosians, the Chameloids, the Wraith, or the Vendorians. However, I’ve begun to make certain breakthroughs. Odo, this is Doctor Reyar. Why don’t you show Doctor Reyar…something that you can do?”

Without a word, Odo morphed into a cadge lupus, a shaggy, vicious-looking Bajoran animal he’d learned about from the institute’s database. Reyar took a step back and made a frightened noise.

“Something Cardassian,” Mora said quickly, and the lupuschanged into a massive, square-headed Cardassian riding hound, similar to the lupusbut with longer legs and short, wiry fur.

Reyar seemed no less horrified. “How dreadful!” she exclaimed. Odo changed back into his humanoid form.

“I have upset you,” Odo said. Reyar ignored him, turning back to Mora.

“So, what kind of progress have you made with it?” she inquired.

Mora was taken aback, for he’d thought Odo’s demonstration illustrated his progress well enough. “Well, I’ve learned quite a lot about him in the time since I was assigned to him. His optimal temperature, his mass, which, by the way, can be changed at will. I’ve also taught him the basics of humanoid speech, as you can hear, and he’s beginning to learn many things that will hopefully help him to someday assimilate—”

“Yes, but I mean, what have you learned about him that will contribute to the betterment of Cardassian society? For isn’t that the ultimate goal here at the institute—and in the sciences in general?”

“Yes, of course,” Mora replied. “But I’m learning about a new species, Doctor Reyar. Surely you see the value in that type of research. It is inherently important to learn all we can about—”

“I don’t really see the value,” Reyar said. “I suppose I’m just a traditionalist that way. But I guess you are to be congratulated for teaching it to do…tricks and the like.” Her tone was dry, or maybe Mora just imagined it was. Cardassian mannerisms still eluded him at times.

The two women left him alone with Odo, who wasted no time getting to the inevitable questions.

“Doctor Reyar. This is a man?”

“No, Odo, she is a woman.”

The shape-shifter nodded. “I thought she looked like a woman. But…I thought it was men who did not make good scientists.”

Mora laughed, a little puzzled. “Doctor Reyar is probably a perfectly good scientist, Odo.”

“But, Doctor Mora, I thought that science, the study of science…the study of… me…I thought this was the quest for knowledge, for information and truth about the environment that surrounds us.”

He was probably quoting something from one of the informational padds he’d been given, Mora thought, and felt a surge of pride that his project seemed to have internalized what he was reading. “Yes, well, Odo, not all scientists have the same priorities, I suppose. Doctor Reyar believes science is valuable only if it makes people’s lives quantifiably better in some way.”

“People’s lives,” Odo repeated. “Whose lives? My life? Your life?”

Mora cleared his throat. He wanted to say the Cardassians’ lives,but he said nothing. Odo was so naïve, Mora was well aware that anything he said in the shape-shifter’s presence was likely to be repeated.

“You are learning so quickly, Odo,” Mora finally said. “But it’s time for me to check your liquid mass. If you wouldn’t mind stepping into the tank, please. I need you to revert to your natural form.”

Odo, obedient as always, did as he was told, and Mora shifted his focus to his notes, remembering that he would not be able to devote so much attention to this in the near future. He hoped Odo would understand.

19

It seemed a very long time since Daul had used a transporter. The Bajoran Institute of Science was outfitted with one that was used primarily for equipment and supplies, though occasionally the Cardassian scientists employed it to transport themselves from place to place, but the Bajorans were not allowed access to it. This rule was unspoken, but it was very well understood.

Today, however, an exception was being made. The prefect had strongly implied that Gallitep’s overseer was a notoriously impatient man, and that Daul needed to begin his new task as soon as possible. Daul was quickly authorized for transport and beamed directly into a long, cool corridor with chrome doors on either end. He was met there by a lean Cardassian who introduced himself simply as “Marritza.”

“Gul Dukat recommends you highly for your expertise,” Marritza said as he escorted Daul down the corridor.

Daul had the distinct impression that the other man was nervous. He wondered if he was afraid of Bajorans; there was so much propaganda among Cardassians regarding the resistance that civilians probably expected every Bajoran to be ready to spring up and murder their Cardassian neighbors without a second thought.

“I’m flattered by his confidence,” Daul said. In truth, he was anything but flattered. He was disgusted, and he was terrified to consider what he was about to be confronted with at Gallitep. At least last time, he hadn’t been made to travel to the actual camp; his software had been electronically implemented into the mine’s online system from the institute’s database.

“It has been explained to you what you are expected to do?” Marritza inquired.

Daul nodded. “Yes, I’m to reprogram the system to begin a gradual shutdown. It will have to be done in two sessions, however. I trust Gul Darhe’el is aware of this necessity?”

“I will be sure he is informed,” Marritza said. “My job is to keep the camp’s records and the details of its operation up to date, but I daresay Gul Darhe’el will not wish to be troubled with such minor matters. He has so much else to concern himself with…” The clerk smiled then, with a strange trace of what seemed like bitterness.