“I assumed I would now serve you.”

“Is that what you’d like to do?” Uhura asked. “You don’t have to, you know. You’re free to do whatever you want.”

“But—” Zetha started to say, then stopped herself. She didn’t even know what she was going to ask.

“You can go back home if you want. We can arrange for Zetha’s ‘death’ and give you a new identity, in case you’re concerned that the Tal Shiar might go looking for you…” Uhura began, ticking the suggestions off on her fingers.

To see Godmother again,Zetha thought, and maybe find Tahir. To create a life for myself as—what? I have a scrounger’s skills, and what Selar taught me in the lab, and I now speak Federation Standard, a skill I would hardly boast about on Romulus. Where would I go; who would I be?

“…you’re welcome to stay on Earth as long as you wish,” Uhura was saying. “We owe you immeasurably for giving us the means to stop Catalyst. You’re free to go wherever you wish, be anything you wish to be.”

And have Sisko invite me to share dinner with his family, as he did on the ship, and make mejambalaya. To learn from Tuvok’s wisdom, perhaps to count “the three doctors” among my friends as well. And to have Admiral Uhura’s gratitude. This is something I must consider….

“Someone has to speak directly to Cretak before the wall of silence grows thicker still,” she said. “If you wish, I will be that someone.”

“You’re under no obligation—” Uhura started to say.

“I know that, Admiral. But it is what I wish to do.”

“Are you certain?” Uhura asked. “Because once you’re inside, we may not be able to get you out again. If you wanted to get out.”

This time Zetha did shrug. “I will not know that until I go back in.” Then she smiled. “But, Scrounger’s Second Law: Hide in plain sight. If there’s a way out, I will find it.”

Uhura hesitated. Was this the right thing to do? Zetha’s life had been commandeered from the very beginning. She hadn’t asked to be abandoned by her family, recruited by the Tal Shiar, transformed into an instrument of death, not even to be sent by Cretak as an exile among strangers. What right did anyone have to ask her to return to that world?

But by volunteering to return, wasn’t she saying “I choose!” and wresting control from those who had presumed to control her? Zetha needed this as much as Uhura needed a messenger inside the Empire.

“Very well, if you’re sure,” Uhura said now, making arrangements even as she accepted Zetha’s offer. When she’d done, she beamed at the girl. “Whatever you ultimately decide, I’ll see to it. Hailing frequencies open, young lady, always.”

Zetha beamed right back at her. Her parting words were, “Tell Lieutenant Sisko I’ll be back for the jambalaya!”

Yes, word was already on its way to Cretak. While it might take weeks or even months to reach the senator’s pointed ears, oh, well, the genie was out of the bottle and no way for Uhura to stop it. She wondered if Sloan had made particular note, during his carefully trained scanning of her office that, like a psychiatrist’s office, there were two doors, so as each new visitor arrived, the previous one could, if necessary, leave by a different door to avoid being seen by the subsequent one.

She had sent Sloan out the way he’d come in. Zetha had left in the opposite direction.

Who will spy on the spies?Uhura wondered as, with a bitter smile, she considered the order she’d just received. She was pleased that Catalyst would have no diplomatic or military repercussions, but furious at the thought of its perpetrators’ escaping unscathed. Had she not been able to dispatch a Listener to Cretak, she’d have been more furious still, but a Pyrrhic victory was better than none.

And it wouldn’t surprise her, months or even years from now, to receive a return message from Cretak saying that her government, too, had informed her that Catalyst did not exist.

We and the Empire are more alike than different,Uhura thought, but equally perverse!

How many such “nonevents” had she had to countenance in her intelligence career? How many more could she stand before she snapped? With a sigh she again opened the resignation letter she’d kept on file since the day she took this job.

Sisko couldn’t bear to look at Dr. Heisenberg’s face once he’d told him how Albatrosshad met her death. He thought at first that the older man was going to cry. He did turn his back on Sisko for a moment, and Sisko thought he saw his shoulders shake. Then Heisenberg straightened with a sigh and said wryly: “Oh, dear!”

“Dr. Heisenberg, I’m really sorry…” Sisko began.

“No, no, dear boy, it’s I who should be sorry for you,” Heisenberg said. “Albatrosswas just the prototype. I’ve much more interesting gadgets up my sleeve. I’m more concerned with the amount of paperwork this will generate. Forms, requisitions, explanations…” The old man sighed. “But you, to have to sacrifice your ship on your first command…” He clapped Sisko on the shoulder sympathetically.

“But she wasn’t—that is, I wasn’t—” Sisko said, but then he realized Heisenberg was right. He’d wondered why, even with the relative success of the mission, even reunited with Jennifer and Jake, he’d still felt a niggling sadness. He’d have to think about that some more. “Guess I’ll think twice before accepting another command, sir. But I’m honored that Albatrosswas my first.”

Long after he’d left Heisenberg tinkering with his latest gadget and returned to his post on Okinawa,Sisko realized what he’d said. Accepting another command?he thought. Me? I’m an engineer. I’ve ducked the command track all my life. What was I thinking? What bizarre Freudian slip of the tongue made me say that? Could Curzon have been right?

He’d barely arrived in the engine room when a Level-2 diagnostic soon occupied his entire attention. He never noticed Curzon observing him from the upper level, a knowing smile on his otherwise angelic face.

Uhura left the resignation letter on one screen and opened another to her to-do list. Notify all members of her away team, plus the medical team, of Commander Starfleet’s instructions, each of them individually so as to keep cross talk at a minimum. Brace for the howling she knew she’d get from Dr. Crusher’s direction. Maybe she’d talk to Crusher last.

Tuvok was already back on the Billings,Selar on her science vessel, Sisko in Okinawa’s engine room. McCoy was out on the lake communing with the trout. She’d probably have to bark at Crusher to make her settle down, or let her oversee the vaccination program on the starbases to keep her too busy to be angry but, ultimately, all was well.

Uhura reread her resignation letter one more time, and one more time her finger hovered over the SEND button. With a sigh, she filed the letter for another time and went back to work, for now.

About the Author

Margaret Wander Bonanno is the author of Dwellers in the Crucibleand Strangers from the Sky,as well as two s/f trilogies, The Othersand Preternatural.Born in Brooklyn, New York, she now lives on the Left Coast. Visit her website at www.margaretwanderbonanno.com.