“This is extraordinary,” I said.

“Yes. Kel and I spend a lot of time here. Or we used to,” she added with that same softness as if she were talking to herself. “I feel safe here.”

“It reminds me of the enclosure at Bamarren,” I said. She laughed, and the old delight momentarily flashed.

“Yes! That’s why I love it here.” But her expression changed and she gave me a look that creased the lines in her face. “We treated you so terribly.”

“Please. . . .” I started to say.

“We did, Elim. You know that. We believed . . . or at least Ibelieved. . . .” she stopped herself with a bitter laugh. I didn’t ask her what it was she had believed.

“That’s finished now,” I said.

“Is it?” she asked with a wry smile. “Well, that’s good news.”

“We were children, Palandine.”

“Yes, we were. Aspiring to be grownups.” She gave me that creased look again. “You were the grownup, Elim. We were only pretending.”

“Please. . . .” I tried to stop her again.

“No! I lost you as a friend. I think you understand this . . . unless I’m very much mistaken.” Her look made me uneasy. “Why were you following me? Why’ve you been watching me and Kel all this time?”

“You knew?” I was incredulous. I had come to believe that I was virtually undetectable in these situations.

“Of course I did. I may not have a career, but I learned my lessons well.” She said this with a bitterness that took me out of my own feelings of failure. “At first I didn’t know what to do. There you were, sitting like your regnaramong those magnificent orchids. It unnerved me at the beginning, but after a while I looked forward to your being there . . . watching us.” As we held each other’s look I didn’t try to hide my conflicted feelings.

“Why did you decide to follow me today?” she asked. I struggled to find an answer. She nodded as if confirming something to herself. “Tell me, would you have ever . . . declared yourself to me if I hadn’t?”

“No,” I replied. She nodded again, this time with a sad acceptance. “You keep your own counsel now, don’t you? This must be very dangerous for you.”

“For us both. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you,” I added.

“No,” she smiled. “Where do you work?”

“At the Hall of Records.”

“Doing what?” she asked.

“I’m a research analyst,” I answered.

“What kind of research do you analyze?” She was not going to be put off with vague answers.

“I’m a bureaucrat, Palandine. I no longer try to make my work sound interesting. The best part is that I travel a great deal to gather data on population shifts–births, deaths. Most of my work is statistical analysis–making sure the facts match the reports we receive.” I delivered this with appropriate flatness.

“Do you like it?” she asked.

“I like the travel,” I answered. Her face was now a grimace.

“Was Barkan the reason you left Bamarren?”

“I was asked to leave.”

“Why?” she demanded.

“I was never given a reason. When I got home I was placed in the Civil Service Institute.”

“Well, you certainly don’t look like a bureaucrat who sits in a chair all day.”

“I walk as much as possible. I know the City as well as I knew the Mekar.” Palandine forced a smile and walked to a low bench set amid the shrubbery. I could see that she was upset by what she perceived as my fall from grace. Promising young man forced by circumstances to live the life of a lonely functionary.

“What about you?” I asked as I sat on the ground across from her.

“Barkan and I were enjoined. For a while I worked in security at the Ministry of Science. I enjoyed it. Lots of intrigue and bad liars. But women dominate the Ministry, and I did very well. My prospects were encouraging.”

“What happened?”

“It’s complicated, Elim,” she shrugged. “Do you have a family?”

“No.”

“You really do keep your own counsel, don’t you? Part of me envies you.” She made an abrupt gesture with her head as if shaking off a pest. “Barkan progressed more rapidly than we’d expected. He established himself on Bajor, and we began spending a lot of time apart. He thought that we should work together, but before I could work out a transfer Kel was born.” She shrugged again. Such uncharacteristic diffidence.

“Why aren’t you living on Bajor now?” I asked.

“Too dangerous. By the time I felt Kel was old enough to make the move, the Resistance was targeting Cardassian families, and Barkan insisted that we stay here until they could control the situation.”

I immediately questioned his motives and tried to hide my thoughts, but the effort was as futile as trying to hide my presence from her.

“Do you still hate him?” she asked.

“Hate’s a strong word.”

“But we’re all capable of feeling it, Elim. How do you feel about me?” she asked with a direct simplicity that went through my body like electric shock. The churning I experienced earlier at the Tarlak Grounds returned. I was afraid to answer. She nodded again with resignation. This time she had completely misread my thoughts. I realized that she not only expected my hate, but accepted it. She stood up and seemed smaller.

“This wasn’t such a good idea after all, was it?” And when had she ended so many of her sentences with a question?

“What happened to you?” I asked sincerely. “You were the most confident person I’d ever known. Even when you made the decision at Bamarren there was no doubt–no apology.” Her eyes suddenly fractured and tears filled the cracks. “Do you think I followed you because I hate you?”

She couldn’t answer. She just stood there shivering. I moved to her to hold her, and she didn’t resist. She didn’t move. She let me put my arms around her and draw her vibrating body to mine. The touch, the feel of her against my body was something I had never expected to experience outside my imagination. For the first time since Bamarren, I wanted to expand my presence, to feel everything that was coming through this moment and joining us. Inexplicably, I had a sudden vision of the Guide, the woman from the meeting.

“This is our secret, Elim,” Palandine whispered.

“Yes,” I answered. “Our secret.” Another one. But it didn’t feel like it would poison me.

15

Entry:

The encryptions were getting harder to decode, but the information being pieced together indicated that a significant resistance was beginning to form on Cardassia itself. I had anticipated this happening, and wondered why it had taken so long to coalesce. Unless the entire planet had somehow gone mad, there were too many good and intelligent people who would be able to see the Dominion promises for what they were and take an action to forestall the inevitable betrayal. Odo confirmed my belief.

“After Tain’s attempt to destroy the Founders’ home‑world, there’s no chance the Dominion will allow an autonomous Cardassian state to exist.” It was the middle of the night, and we were finishing up the last transmissions in Odo’s office. I was exhausted. Sometimes we’d work through to the morning, but thankfully tonight I’d be able to return to my quarters and get a few hours sleep.

“But surely, Odo, the Founders must know that this was the action of a few desperate people,” I reasoned.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten that you were one of those desperate people,” he reminded me. I was too tired to argue. “Besides, Garak, this action only confirms their belief in the treachery of the solids. They’ve seen what Cardassians have done to other races; it’s not as if their fears are without foundation.” Odo looked as if he could use a spell in his bucket; I had rarely seen him looking so run‑down.

“No,” I sighed. “We have not inspired the confidence of our neighbors.” I began to push myself away from the computer when a rescramble suddenly formed into a coherent communiquй.

“Look at this, Odo,” I said. The renewed energy in my voice brought him over. “It’s from the Vorta–Weyoun.” We studied the message in silence.