“Report,” he ordered.

“The cleric did not resist arrest,” Dukat explained, in a way that made it clear he was disappointed. “I have secured him in holding quadrant two. He has made repeated demands to speak with you.”

Kell raised a thick eyeridge. “Well. Perhaps I should indulge him, then.” He took a step toward the hatch, and as he expected, Ico interposed herself.

“Gul, I would like to attend you. It’s of interest to me to hear his comments regarding the unrest on the homeworld.”

“Is it?” Kell replied. All three of them knew full well the scientist had absolutely no authority to be granted such access; her posting, after all, was only that of a civilian adviser outside the starship’s chain of command.

“With respect,” began Dukat, “Professor Ico’s remit does not extend to prisoners in custody.”

“Quite so,” said Kell, tapping the keypad to open the hatch. “But I’m choosing to extend it for the moment.”

“Sir,” said the dalin, “Central Command will—”

“Central Command is not here,”Kell growled. “I am.” He beckoned Ico to follow him. “Return to the bridge, Dukat. I want privacy.”

“As you command.” The other man’s reply was terse.

Once the hatch closed again, Ico gave him an arch look.

“Thank you for accommodating me, Gul.” She paused. “If I might say so, your junior officer appears quite unhappy with the situation at hand.” Ico had a knack for making everything she said appear to be no more than an innocuous observation; she always spoke without weight.

Kell didn’t look at her. “Dukat’s a fine officer, but he lacks an understanding of the nature of command. Some hounds need to be kept on a tight chain.”

“Some hounds bite,” she added.

They came to a halt at an oval space opening onto a narrow chamber. A humming force field hazed the view into the cell, traces of yellow sparks flickering at the edges of the glowing emitter bars surrounding it. Hadlo stood in the center of the holding compartment, watching them.

“There’s no need for this,” he said, pointing at the field.

“I’m not a threat.”

Kell rubbed his chin. “I’ll let a tribunal decide that, cleric. Your fellow zealots have made quite a mess in your absence. I’m sure the people will be interested to know what hand you had in that.” He glanced at Ico. “How many deaths so far, Professor?”

“Fifty-three,” said the woman. “Some of them children and the infirm.”

Kell shook his head, concealing the relish he felt at having the priest incarcerated. “Terrible business. I’m sure you’ll be made to answer in full for it.”

Hadlo came forward in an abrupt rush. “No, listen to me. Your attention is in the wrong place! This is not about Cardassia, it is about Bajor! About both!” His face flushed dark gray. “If you could open your eyes, if you could listen! I’ve seen it!”

“Seen what?” A sneer crossed the gul’s face. “Has your silly little sect given you some holy revelation to impart to us?”

“In the temple at Kendra, in the shrine there, I saw such things as a man like you could never comprehend!” thundered Hadlo, suddenly animated. “The Bajoran kai showed me, and the Orb…the Orb was the vision!”

“Orb?” The word stuck in Kell’s mind, and he dwelt on it for a moment. He recalled a fraction of data from his pre-mission briefing, the vague intelligence reports from the Obsidian Order about the aliens and their culture. Doubtless the reports were deliberately unclear where the Order chose to keep the more sensitive data to itself—such a practice was not uncommon—but there had been mention of some sort of relics of religious significance to the Bajorans. He glanced at Ico and saw with some interest that the woman’s previously off hand attention toward the cleric had gained a new intensity.

“I saw our worlds, the ashen wilderness and the snakes. Death and destruction laid forth, the blinding smoke…” He trailed off, gasping. “As real to me as you!”

Kell snorted. “Oh, how pathetic. This is the best defense you can offer? Your perfidy is revealed and all you can do is play the madman? Visions? What idiocy.”

“I saw tomorrow!”The cleric let out the words in a screech. “The future emerging from the Orb of Truth, skeins of possibility unraveling! And the shape of them vanishing, taken away and stolen by serpents…”

Ico’s eyes narrowed, and she took a step closer to the force field. “Stolen,” she repeated. “You saw the Orbs being taken away?”

He nodded curtly. “One by one.”

The gul grimaced. “Rhan, please do not tell me that you of all people find some shred of cogency in this babble?” He shot Hadlo a hard look. “It’s clear to me. He is either arrested by some sort of dementia brought on by his primitive beliefs, or he is concocting a web of nebulous statements in an attempt to appear more knowledgeable than he is!”

“Perhaps,” Ico said.

Kell laughed. “Aren’t you a woman of science? A student of the rational? Do you actually put any credence in talk about Orbs that show the future? This is the desperation of a condemned man, nothing more.” He sniffed. “I have seen all I need to see.”

“Science is the pursuit of knowledge,” she said quietly, speaking with steady intensity. “I want to know more about these Orbs.” There was something in her words that told Kell she knew far more about them already than either he or the cleric did.

“Yes. Yes!” Hadlo came so close to the glimmering barrier that the emitters rose in pitch with the proximity of his body. “And that will only come through me, through the Oralian Way!”

“If that was an attempt to convert us, it was a weak one,” Kell retorted.

The old man’s face twisted in a snarl, and suddenly the gul was seeing the pious, imperial manner he remembered from their earlier confrontations. “I would never dirty my faith with you, Kell! I speak of larger issues, of survival and what must be done to ensure it!”

“Go on,” said Ico.

He stabbed a crooked finger at them. “You want to open the path to the Bajorans, but they will not listen to you. They see only aliens, the shadow of expansionist warmongers and soulless clinicians! Without weapons, you will never gain a foothold on Bajor! You know it and I know it! They reject you, they distrust you!” He laughed bitterly. “If it were not for us, if the children of Oralius were not with you now, they would have turned you away at the edge of their space!”

Kell’s jaw stiffened. “Be thankful you had a use, you old fool. But now, like any tool that has failed to perform, you’ll be cast aside. You and your whole sect.”

“Not if Cardassia wants Bajor!” roared Hadlo. “I can give it to you! Kai Meressa will listen to me, she trusts me. The Bajoran church holds great sway over their people…If the kai welcomes Cardassia, then Bajor will follow in her footsteps and not even the First Minister will stand against her. I can bring that to pass. Already she has granted my petition to create a theological enclave on her planet. I have taken the first step!”

“You would make your faith the bridge between our two worlds? This is your bargain?” asked Ico.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? A channel to their riches and resources?”

The gul folded his arms over his chest. His mind was racing. Here he was, hoping for nothing more than a chance to gloat over the cleric’s reversal of fortunes, and instead the old man had offered him a chance to gain the glory Ico had taunted him with earlier—a bloodless victory. The lure of the moment made his mouth flood with saliva. “And suppose you did this, priest,” he began, “what would you want in kind?”

Hadlo rocked back, the flush of emotion on his face fading. “Assurances. You will use your authority with Central Command to call off the persecution of my kinsmen. The Oralian Way will be allowed to go on as before.”

Kell spread his hands. “I am only a gul of the Second Order. I think you overestimate my influence.”