“If you won’t do it, then it cannot be done,” Kalem said, with unusual finality. “You can’t imagine what has become of the resistance movement on this world.”

“This is unlike you, Apren,”Jas said. “I have been trying to contact you about this matter since the last time we spoke—and I never would have expected to get this reaction, once the message finally got through.”

“I wouldn’t have expected this from you, either,” Kalem said coldly. “But I suppose we’ve both changed.” He hesitated for a moment, exchanging a disappointed glance with his wife, and then he ended the call.

“We found the shape-shifter.”

Dukat smiled at the glinn on his screen. “Of course you have.”

“You were right, Prefect. It was spotted in another Bajoran village. He has already been ingratiating himself to the locals. It seems he settled a dispute between two men who were accusing one another of burning down a barn, or some such foolishness—”He stopped speaking, apparently realizing that this was more than Dukat had asked to know.

Dukat tilted his head in recognition of the acknowledgment. “And you’ve made no contact with him, is that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now, I want you to withdraw as much as possible without losing sight of him entirely. Give him time to establish himself. A month, perhaps. Then you’ll send in some of your men, to recruit new workers for Terok Nor.”

“And we bring in the shape-shifter with them?”

Dukat regarded the glinn’s pedestrian thought processes with mild distaste. Unable to see a step past the next. “Absolutely not. You will make it clear to Odo that he is not required on the station. But you’ll also be sure he understands what happens at Terok Nor. That ships from all across the quadrant come here for trade and diplomatic purposes. And that as a…visitor, he would be welcomed here.”

“What if it doesn’t choose to accompany the new workers?”

“Oh, he’ll come here. Perhaps not right away, but he’ll come.”

The glinn’s confusion was apparent, although he was too well trained to question a superior. Dukat considered explaining it to him—that they might be able to catch and cage Odo, but that winning him, besides being infinitely more satisfying, was also their best chance to actually keephim. A glance at the office door stilled his urge to enlighten the dull man. Glinn Trakad stood there, a sweaty sheen to his forehead. The subordinate looked deeply unhappy as he tapped the door signal.

News he doesn’t wish to deliver. Dukat gestured him in, commending the ground soldier once more before signing off. Trakad held a slender box in his hands, what appeared to be computer equipment of some sort. A portable relay drive, perhaps.

“Yes, Trakad.”

“This is from that sensor tower in Dahkur.” The soldier looked ill.

“And…?” Dukat prompted.

“This was not a malfunction, sir. This was an attempt at sabotage. The surface inventory reports confirmed it. Several unaccounted-for flyers have been recorded leaving the surface, but no flyers have actually left. They were Bajoran ships, sir. There is a single capture of the saboteur’s face—a Bajoran.”

A close shot of a young redheaded woman’s soft face snapped on, her expression absolutely intent, her eyes filled with fear. The capture had been taken a second or two before she’d fled for the woods, Dukat imagined, scampering away like some small, wild creature.

Dukat turned away from the screen, away from Trakad. And smiled. She was still alive, then—and as beautiful as her mother had been, though in a different way. Strong, where Meru had been fragile. The nerve it must have taken, to climb that tower, to dare such a blatant offense. It was outrageous, of course, totally unacceptable, but while he condemned the action, he could not help but admire her spirit, the foolish bravery of the young and romantic.

Still, I had hoped she would not continue down this road…

“Why haven’t you contacted the engineer who designed the system?” he asked, turning back to Trakad. “This suggests that the detection grid is not working as it was supposed to.”

“I have tried, sir. But it seems that no one can locate her. You dismissed the director of the institute, and their record-keeping system has been in quite…a disarray since she left. You did not immediately appoint a sufficient replacement, and—”

Dukat sighed heavily. It was no wonder that the man looked as though he’d swallowed broken glass. Nobody wanted to deliver news to the prefect that indicated the prefect had made a mistake. He finally turned around. “Well, then. We will have to send someone else to repair it, won’t we?”

“I have already done it. Our chief of engineering assures me that he has overseen a complete recalibration, and everything is now functioning properly.”

Dukat raised his forehead expectantly. Why then, did the man still appear to be so uncomfortable?

The soldier cleared his throat with some difficulty. “But…but the signals in Dahkur remain as confused as before, sir. More unauthorized ships reported taking off, and the anti-aircraft system fails to lock on to them—”

“Suspend all air traffic in Dahkur,” Dukat ordered.

“Shall we shoot the raiders down manually?”

“No,” Dukat said quickly, thinking of young Nerys. “Get me Basso Tromac,” he ordered. Basso was the only one of Dukat’s adjutants that knew the full extent of his interest in Nerys and in the rest of the Kira family. Basso would have to redouble his efforts in Dahkur right away. Dukat dismissed Trakad, and thought again of Nerys, wondering what she hoped to accomplish, wondering if he could somehow lead her away from the terrorists, to teach her to be a proper citizen of a Cardassian host world, before she got herself into real trouble. He had little spare time, of course, but he felt it was the least he could do for Meru’s only daughter. Such a lovely, lovely girl deserved better than to huddle in the forest like a wild animal.

OCCUPATION YEAR THIRTY-EIGHT

2365 (Terran Calendar)

13

Kira fought to keep her own terror in check as she rifled through the belongings of the chemist. She still could not entirely believe that she was here, on Terok Nor, a place most Bajorans would have done anything to avoid. It had been a hasty decision to come—a dangerous one—but this was an opportunity that could mean a significant advance for the resistance. It was long believed that Dukat employed a small, secret network of informants, and Kira was currently right in the den of one of them—the one who served as their direct link to the prefect. Vaatrik Drasa owned this shop, and he could walk in any minute and find her…

There were hundreds of things that could go wrong here. Coming to Terok Nor was easily the biggest risk Kira had ever taken—bigger even than Gallitep. But when the Shakaar cell caught word that there was a way to get someone on the station—and back off again—Shakaar had insisted that they had no choice.

Tahna Los had wanted to go, originally, but the Bajoran man who came to the Shakaar cell with the intel insisted that a young woman would be viewed with less suspicion. It was as though the assignment was made for her, and she’d been quick to volunteer. It was an opportunity they couldn’t afford to miss.

So do it, already!Kira moved faster, looking through Vaatrik’s files, her fingers scrambling over his keyboard, looking for anything, anything. The man who had arranged for her to come here had insisted that there was a list somewhere in this shop. A list of eight collaborators, who were scattered all over Bajor. Take them out, their informant had insisted, and over half the Cardassians’ intelligence infrastructure would fall apart.

She left the computer running a search and stood, considering the jars of herbs, powders, and drugs that lined the walls. She searched for some clue that one of them contained more than it seemed to, then checked her chrono. If Shakaar’s informat—the man who’d gotten her onto the station—had done his job, Cardassian security would still be busy with the explosion he’d caused down in ore processing. But she didn’t have time to search every jar! She had to get out of here soon, but would she get another chance tomorrow?