The Listeners had reported an increase in the number of merchants selling ‘miracle cures’ in this sector. Admiral Uhura had thought it worth investigating, which was why the team was here.

“It’s a fake!” a Romulan in the crowd was shouting. “And you want too much for it!”

“Too much for a miracle?” the huckster shouted. “This here, my friends, is something you’ve never seen or heard of before. It’s found on only one planet in the entire quadrant, and I’ve risked my life to get it.”

This got a few people’s attention, and a few purchases were made, but most in the crowd began to drift away, giving Selar a chance to move forward.

“What will you take in trade for a sample of this miraculous compound?” she asked the huckster who, once off his platform, was nearly a head shorter than she. He squinted up at her and grinned.

“Whatcha got to trade?” he leered hopefully, licking his spittle-flecked lips. “That’s a right fine pendant you’re wearing. That Vulcan?”

“It is.” Selar slipped it off and gave it to him to examine.

“Genuine garnet,” he appraised it, then gave it back. “But I’d have to give you a cartload of hiloponto be worth that.”

“Even for a miracle cure?” Selar asked dryly.

The little man’s eyes shifted sideways, as if he suspected a trap. “Well, how’s about I give you a free sample? Then I’ll take the pendant in trade for something, shall we say, more of interest to a beautiful young woman such as you. Perhaps a love potion for that…um, special Vulcan time?”

Tuvok, who had been hanging back in the crowd searching for the shill, who had melted away, suddenly materialized beside Selar. His appearance was sufficient to wipe the leer off the huckster’s face.

“Look, I don’t want no trouble!” he protested, raising his hands as if to fend it off, backing away from them. “I can tell you’re with the gov, but my permits are in order, and I ain’t selling anything that’s on the banned list. Okay, the hiloponis a little out of the ordinary line, but it ain’t illegal to sell it here, and you know it. Besides, I’m not the only one selling it, and it don’t hurt nobody. Want to look at it another way, I’m selling hope. There’s always a chance it mightwork.”

“We are more interested in what it is and where it comes from,” Tuvok said sternly, palming one small packet and secreting it in his specimen case as the huckster began hurriedly packing up his booth; if the little man wanted to believe Tuvok was a Sliwoni official, Tuvok would not inform him otherwise.

“It’s called hilopon.And if you’re with the gov, you know it comes from Renaga. That’s common knowledge. You’re trying to trip me up, make a liar out of me, but that’s the truth. And you got no jurisdiction on Renaga, so you got no hold on me.”

“Refresh my memory,” Tuvok said, distracting him while Selar ran her tricorder discreetly over his wares. “Why was it necessary for you to risk your life in order to obtain this substance?”

The little man had been snatching vials and jars and packets off the counter, tossing them into a carryall, lowering the curtains on the booth to indicate it was closed.

“Hey, you know how it is there. Natives are as backward as sheep. They think the stars govern their lives. They don’t like strangers, and they believe if you take so much as a handful of dirt off their planet, you’re making it smaller. Can you believe that? So I had to sneak this stuff off very carefully, even though it’s only dirt.”

He’d finished packing now, and was searching the gathering crowd furtively for a means of escape.

“But you know that!” he accused Tuvok, waving a finger in his face defiantly. “You’re just toying with me so I’ll leave town. All right, all right, I’m leaving, see?”

The uproar he was making was drawing a new and not entirely friendly crowd. Someone shouted, “Leave him alone!” Selar turned off her tricorder and quirked an eyebrow at Tuvok. It was time and past time to get back to Albatross.

Maybe it was working in the sometimes airless confines of the engine room all day, or maybe it was the unfamiliar dusts and pollens in the air of Sliwon, but Sisko had been bothered with a tickle in his throat all afternoon. Clearing his throat didn’t get rid of it, drinking water had no effect. By the time the Vulcans signaled their impending return, it had evolved into an annoying cough. In the ensuing attack by the villagers with their shortbows, he had almost forgotten about it, but now it was back. He cleared his throat.

“It would be unfortunate if your display of superior fire power upset the normal evolution of weaponry on this world,” Selar was suggesting to Tuvok as they came aboard.

“Dubious,” Tuvok remarked. “The villagers think nothing of space travel. Their use of the bow is merely traditional. On worlds where archery is a normal part of the weaponry, for example, the crossbow and the longbow often evolve in tandem. Curious, since the longbow is a far superior weapon. At the battle of Agincourt, the English lost only 500 men to the French 10,000, because of their adoption of the Welsh longbow…”

“And that’s the long answer,” Sisko quipped, admiring the longbow. “Damn fine craftsmanship on such short notice.”

“In fact, it is very primitive,” Tuvok pointed out. “It ought to have been made of French yew, aged for at least thirty days. However,” he said, unstringing it and stowing it under his bunk. “It has served its purpose, in that it has prevented something as inconsequential as a skirmish with the locals from endangering our mission.” He frowned slightly. “Where is Zetha?”

Sisko blinked. “I don’t know. I assumed she went with you.”

Tuvok’s frown deepened. “She asked if she could remain here, and indicated she would speak to you about it. I should have verified that. An oversight on my part.”

“I’ve been in the engine room the whole time,” Sisko explained with a sinking feeling. “I assumed, since she always goes with you…I never thought to check.”

Was this where it happened? Sisko wondered. Was this where she jumped ship, went back to her masters, set his crew up for an attack? Was the ambush they’d just foiled part of her plan? How much of that was his fault?

“She’s probably back in the lab,” he suggested, praying it was so. “Although why she didn’t come out during the attack…”

But Zetha was not in the lab, nor anywhere else on the ship.

“We would have to attain orbit in order to get clear of local comm chatter,” Tuvok suggested, already preparing for departure. “But if Zetha is anywhere in the vicinity, it will be possible to put a trace on her….”

“And if she isn’t in the vicinity,” Sisko said grimly. “I wouldn’t be surprised if—” Just then the perimeter alarm sounded, and he slid into the command chair.

“The Sliwoni are back,” he reported, scanning the clearing and the surrounding woods. “Not just a handful on foot, but half a dozen hovercraft, weapons powering. I’d say we’ve overstayed our welcome.”

Tuvok had taken the seat beside him at the controls and was scanning the weapons signatures. “Standard plasma weapons. If they fire, shields should be able to handle it. But I would prefer that we not have to test them.”

“You and me both,” Sisko agreed. “I doubt these shields have been used since before I was born. I wouldn’t want to find out—”

A shot across their bow left his thought unfinished.

“Whatever happened to ‘come out with your hands up’?” Sisko groused, sealing hatches, powering up. “And is it me, or are there no official markings on those ’craft?”

“Confirmed,” Tuvok reported, scanning. “Unmarked, and of several different designs.”

“A posse,” Sisko decided. “Vigilante justice. Well, they want us out of town before sunset, I’ll be happy to oblige them.”