To his surprise, Dukat’s expression changed and he nodded in agreement. “I think you are correct, Kotan. If there are mistakes being made on Bajor, it is that our kind expect the aliens to adhere to our patterns.” He shook his head. “They won’t. And if Cardassia had the time, I would say that your route would be the one to take.” He activated the replicator, turning his back on the scientist. “But we will not. Cardassia does not have the luxury. The Talarians will nip at our borders once again, it is their nature. We have seen ample evidence today of Tzenkethi audacity, and then there is the constant pressure of the Federation’s influence. If we bide our time, we allow all those enemies to gain strength over us.” He nodded again. “Let me tell you what must be done. Bajor must be made to understand how lucky they are to have the Cardassian Union as a friend. They should give us what we need and do so willingly. They don’t appreciate that they should be grateful for our patronage, and that must be pointed out to them in the strongest of manners. Anyone who cannot see that, Bajoran or Cardassian, becomes an impediment to our greater good.”

“That…that has all the color of a threat, Dukat.” Tension settled in Pa’Dar’s muscles. In a cold, immediate rush of insight, he saw something different, something callous and hard in the other man’s manner. It was as if a vast chasm had suddenly opened up between them; but then again, perhaps it had always been there, and only in this moment had Pa’Dar recognized it.

The commander drew a number of steaming plates from the replicator’s maw and placed them on the table. The scents from spiced meats and pastries brought back memories of the feast in the Naghai Keep, but suddenly Pa’Dar felt his appetite fading. “Threats are only intentions never made manifest,” said Dukat, taking a seat and a large chunk of meat. “Why waste time on them? Bajor must be taught, and teaching requires the application of lessons.” He glanced up and saw that Pa’Dar had not touched the food. “You’re not eating. Is there nothing to your liking?”

The scientist got to his feet. “I will take my leave of you, Dal Dukat. I’m afraid I find everything here…distasteful.”

As the door closed behind him, Pa’Dar caught a ripple of laughter at his back.

10

Darrah Mace thumbed the entry control on the lock pad to silent and entered the house quietly. From the outside, most of the windows were dark, and he didn’t want to wake the children if they were sleeping. Sliding the door shut behind him, he stopped sharply, narrowly avoiding walking straight into the chest-high statue in the hallway. The sculpture had only been in the house a few days, and he still hadn’t got used to its being there. Another gift from Karys’s mother, the artwork was apparently quite valuable, but to Darrah it looked like the torso of a nude, corpulent woman crossed with a bunch of broken sticks. He thought it was unattractive and obstructive, and to his wife’s displeasure Bajin had expressed the same opinion. Only Nell, ever the conciliator, had said something nice about Grandmother’s efforts, and even then she had damned it with faint praise. Darrah imagined that they would follow the same pattern they did with every such gift from his in-laws; it would stay in the house for a couple of months before he shifted it to the basement to be out of the way with all the others.

He threaded his way through the wide bungalow, following the faint smell of food coming from the kitchen. The shutters across the window were open slightly, and through them Darrah could see the glow of the city below the hills. The view was one of the best things about the place, and on a clear day he could stand there and pick out the habitat district where their old apartment block still stood. He slid open the kitchen door on its rails and found his wife at the table, picking at a carton of food with one hand, reading a booklet with the other.

Karys closed the book and inclined her head. “Kids are asleep.”

“I gathered.” Shrugging his tunic onto an empty seat, he sat down opposite her, and she immediately got up, putting distance between them. Mace sighed and helped himself to a glass of kavajuice. It was too warm, but he was too thirsty to care. “Is there anything to eat?” He cast an eye over the containers on the table, the debris of a take-out meal from one of the vendors down in the commercial quarter.

“There was a couple of hours ago,” she retorted. “At supper. You remember supper, Mace? I think you had it with us when Nell was still crawling.”

The jibe barely registered. He flipped open the lids of the boxes and his lip curled. Cooked fish smells assailed his nostrils, smoky and potent. “What is this?”

“Rokatfillets and seafruits in yamoksauce.”

“That’s Cardassianfood. Since when did we live on alien grub in this house?” He shot her a glance. “I want something Bajoran.”

“You’re dealing with the Cardassians all the time now. I thought you’d be used to their foods. And besides, since when did you have a choice in deciding who eats what?” Karys came back toward him, bristling, and Mace knew she was gathering the momentum for an argument. “If you were around more often, you might have a say in it.”

Mace shoved the boxes away and took a gulp from his juice. “I pay for this house. I pay for space for your mother’s damned monstrosities in the hallway. The least you can do is have something I can eat in the place when I come home!”

“Whenyou come home!” She seized on the words. “You promised me things would be different when we moved here, Mace!” Karys put her hands flat on the table.

“The assignment with the enclaves, you said it would make us better off and you said you’d be home more often. But you’re not. Nothing is different!”

“Nothing?” he shot back. “You have the home you wanted, I got you out of the stackers, gave you a life more to the taste of an Ih’valla.What more do you want?”

“I want my husband in the house!” Her voice started to rise, and she checked herself. “For more than a few hours a week, at least!” She shook her head. “I see Rifin Belda at services and I feel like I’m turning into her!”

Mace frowned. Belda was the wife of the late captain of the Eleda,and she had struggled hard to continue on with her life, left alone with two children after her spouse had been lost. “Belda’s husband is dead.”

“And she sees his memorial more than I see you.”

Mace’s temper flared. “That’s not true, and you know it.” He blew out a breath. “Kosst,Karys. What do you want from me? I’m trying to give you the best life I can, keep you safe. Don’t you understand, if I don’t work this hard, all this goes away?” He gestured at the house. “How many times do we have to rake over this old ground?”

“So I should be grateful and silent, is that it?” She snorted. “Do you know, my sister sent me a comm from the colony today. We talked for a long time.”

Mace rolled his eyes. “Oh, I’m sure that went well. She can’t stand me.”

“She offered to get me passage out there, Bajin and Nell too. Suddenly I’m wondering if I should accept!”

He got to his feet and drained the rest of the drink. “You’re going to go to Valo II? To a rural border colony? I don’t think so.”

“What makes you so sure?” demanded Karys.

“Because you’d go insane. After a couple of weeks of looking at fields and trees you’d be desperate to come home.” His voice shifted into the harsh tone he used in prisoner interrogations. “You hate being away from the center of attention, Karys, and that’s what Korto is these days. You like being cosmopolitan.” He flicked at the food containers. “You like being daring and worldly, the wife of a City Watch inspector who deals with exotic offworlders every day.” Her face darkened, and he knew he’d struck a nerve. “But you can’t have it both ways.” Mace felt buried tensions churning inside him, the legacy of dozens of half-finished arguments and directionless animosities forcing themselves to the surface. Part of him wanted to stay and unleash them, and for a long moment he balanced on the edge of giving them voice; but then he turned and snagged his jacket from the back of the chair.