“Certainly, Constable,” I replied.

“If Cardassia remains within the Dominion sphere, would you stay on the station?”

“Judging from the sartorial styles,” I gestured to the crowded room, “I’d say a good tailor is a necessity.” I smiled, not believing for a moment that I’d survive an aborted invasion of Cardassia or that there would still bea Deep Space 9 if we failed. This must be the lunch where we deal with uncomfortable subjects.

“But if Cardassia is liberated from Dominion control . . .” Odo went on.

“ WhenCardassia is liberated,” I interrupted.

“Would you return?”

“Would you return to the Great Link?” Odo reacted with sharp annoyance to the question. It wasn’t a fair one, because although we were both exiles, we were in very different circumstances. With the humanoid shape he was still learning to live with, and his deepening relationship with Major Kira, Odo was discovering a new mode of existence, a new link. He had an alternative, however difficult the choice. I didn’t.

“Yes, I know. You can’t say.” I was sorry I had asked again. It was a question he was obviously struggling with.

“Would you return to the same Cardassia?” the doctor asked.

“What do you mean ‘same’?” But I knew perfectly well what he meant.

“To a Cardassia containing the political and social elements that made the current situation possible.”

“My dear Doctor, that’s also the Cardassia that made mepossible.” I half‑hoped my joke would end this conversation . . . but I knew better.

“Yes, certainly, but given its totalitarian bent, do you really believe that the previous regime served its people? Liberation might allow for a new government that would ensure the freedom and well‑being of its citizens, one that was based upon democratic principles.”

I made no reply. We’ve had our clashes on the subject of Earth‑style democracy during previous lunches. Dr. Bashir was of the opinion that the Cardassian political system allowed too many competing groups, especially the military Central Command and the Obsidian Order, to function in secret and above the will of the people. No one was surprised when the Detapa Council, the ruling civilian authority, overthrew the Central Command; and very few people, certainly, mourned the demise of the Obsidian Order. But while I didn’t disagree entirely with the Doctor’s analysis, I found it somewhat simplistic. One cannot understand a political “system” detached from its societal context. I also found his eagerness to promote these political remedies somewhat condescending, but I knew the good Doctor was on a mission, and I was determined to show good manners and let him make his case.

“With your background and experience, Garak, I’m certain that you could serve as a liaison between a new Cardassian government and the Federation.” The Doctor paused and waited for a response. None was forthcoming. “I once suggested that you visit Earth as a member of the Cardassian government‑in‑exile. . . .”

Laughter erupted from my mouth; I truly couldn’t stop it. “Forgive me, Doctor, but the people who call themselves our government‑in‑exile wouldn’t have me to lunch–and I wouldn’t let them clean my shoes.”

“But you see,” the Doctor exclaimed, “that’s just the problem. Each group has its own agenda. You’re all so busy finding reasons to dislike each other that you don’t have the will or the energy to find common ground. You’re so dedicated to your . . .”

“Reptilian mind‑set,” I prompted.

“Well . . . yes.”

I laughed again, but inside I was beginning to lose patience with the analysis.

“You are, Garak. Democratic principles, on the other hand, are about adjusting boundaries, negotiating these differences . . . finding some kind of consensus.”

“Your common ground.” No one could accuse me of not listening, especially to the key phrases.

“Yes. Because without common ground there’s nothing left except the kind of selfish interest that eventually leads to anarchy. Don’t you see? That’s why the Dominion found Cardassia to be easy pickings.”

I looked over at Odo. He was nodding in appreciative agreement, as if he’d learned something new and interesting. Indeed, there were several people at adjoining tables who were hanging on to the Doctor’s passionate words, as if he’d been anointed not just leader of the station but the savior of the Alpha Quadrant. Of course they loved his analysis of the evil Cardassian empire.

“That’s why I urge you to go to Earth and experience, firsthand, a democracy that has evolved and united so many disparate groups . . .”

I had had enough. “First of all, Doctor, I don’t quite know what you mean by ‘democratic principles.’ Are you referring to the appalling lack of discipline and self‑control I’ve observed on this station? The exaltation of individual freedom above the welfare of the group? The fact that the ‘first among equals’ in democratic society seem to get preference and privilege?”

“Go back to Cardassia!” someone shouted from a table.

“Dominion spy!” cried another.

“That’s enough!” commanded Odo. He wasn’t going to let this get out of control.

“That’s another principle, is it not, Doctor?” I gestured to the crowd. “Free expression of one’s opinion?”

“Yes, it is, Garak.”

“Educate me, Doctor, please. I’m obviously in the dark about these principles. What about the shabby manner in which certain acts of public service are ignored because they don’t measure up to ethical Federation standards? Is that also a principle? Whereas lying, cheating, and stealing seem to be encouraged and amply rewarded as long they keep the wheels of commerce turning and bring in a profit. You see, my friend, I’m somewhat confused. One man’s democratic principle seems to be another man’s political and social nightmare!”

My voice had risen to an uncharacteristic pitch. It was still ringing in my ears as the Doctor stared at me as if he were studying a baffling microbe. I, too, was baffled. I had no idea where this outburst came from. I know that a distance has widened between us during the past year or so and I know that the holosuite program incident and the revelations of his genetic enhancement are the symptoms of this distance rather than the cause. It’s only natural–we’re very different people. I also know that he had only the best intentions in suggesting that I use the Federation model in order to influence the future of Cardassia. Misguided, yes, and somewhat patronizing and arrogant, but hardly sufficient to elicit this embarrassing and public loss of control.

I mumbled some sad excuse which the good Doctor and Odo were kind enough not to challenge and left the Replimat to return to my shop. As I passed Quark’s I caught his eye and we nodded. Why I included him in my outburst also puzzled me; I rather admire his industry and resourcefulness. I especially admire the way he consistently bends Federation rules so that they work for him.

Back in the shop I shut the doors and tried to work on an outfit I had started to cut and to come up with some designs for Odo. That brown uniform of his is so drab, I was pleased when he decided to take my advice about something more stylish.

What is going on with me? Surely it’s not about Captain Sisko ignoring my contribution to the Romulan solution. I know better; the reward for work well done is the work itself. I’ve been included in the invasion of Cardassian space, regardless of how limited its ambition and scope or when it takes place; the rest of it–recognition, medals, monuments–is truly not important to me. What isimportant is that I feel that I am necessary, that I function with all my faculties in the service of a greater cause. And while I wait for this invasion, is making Odo more attractive to Major Kira a greater cause?

I threw down my sketches. I didn’t want to stay in the shop with these colliding thoughts. But as I was about to leave, I was stopped in my tracks.