“The Never‑Ending Sacrifice,”I answered.

“Yes. That’s the one.” She made a sighing sound as she stood up. Mila was heavier now, and moved with greater deliberation. She, too, had grown old. “I suggest you reread it.”

“Tain always came first, didn’t he? I suppose that was yournever‑ending sacrifice.” I no longer reined in the irony.

“Yes, he did. And if you know anything about sacrifice you’d understand why. The man gave selflessly, constantly. He never asked his people to do anything he wasn’t willing to do himself. He never asked for anything but the devotion and loyalty that he gave to his work.”

“How fortunate he had Tolan.”

“Tolan understood and accepted his obligations,” Mila said coldly. “But he was sentimental. Like you. That was the one thing Enabran worried about.”

I smiled in sad recognition. Sentimental. Yes, Tain and Mila had definitely shared their confidences and judgments with each other.

“But I don’t blame Tolan. He was a good man.” Mila watched me as I rose.

“Yes. So you keep saying.” I wanted to leave.

“She’s nothing but trouble for you, Elim. End it now. Do what Enabran says and reclaim your rightful place.”

“My place,” I repeated.

“Now,Elim. Otherwise you’re in real danger,” she warned with a certainty that reminded me of the time she’d brought me to Tain after I’d left Bamarren. Mila always knew what was at the heart of the never‑ending sacrifice.

“Thank you for your help,” I said, too weary for irony.

“What did you expect from me?”

“To be honest, I can’t remember,” I answered. “Have a pleasant trip.” I smiled and bowed.

“Let Limor know if you’ll be living here.” I nodded. Yes, I thought, that would be my answer. My choice. She shook out her smock to determine whether or not to put it back on.

“Mila.” She looked at me and took a deep breath, as if preparing herself for my question.

“Who was Tolan?”

“My brother.” She decided to wear the smock, and I left.

It was a clear night; I sat among “Uncle” Tolan’s orchids and watched the Taluvian Constellations pulse with undiminished strength. More than ever, I believed not only that they were sending us subliminal messages containing vital information, but that our ability to decode these messages would determine our fate. At Bamarren, Docent Rilon had passionately maintained that if we were only willing to let go of the busy preoccupations of our conditioned minds and concentrate instead on receiving the energy pulse of any given star configuration, the newest and ever‑developing part of our brain would be guided by the creative wisdom of the Primal Plan.

Without any effort, my choice was made; the plan lay before me like a diagram. Whether it was my decision or one inspired by the Taluvian pulse was a question I didn’t ask. At this point I had to accept the givens and take action. The difficult part would be staying away from Palandine; if I could do that, the plan would succeed.

In the weeks that followed, I submitted to my punishment. I informed Limor Prang that I would be living in Tain’s house, and he accepted my decision with the usual absence of reaction. I then reported to Corbin Entek, who had been in the Level above me at Bamarren and one of Lokar’s trusted adjutants, One Drabar. We had worked together very closely during the Competition, and I had enormous respect for him. I once asked him why he hadn’t stayed with Lokar and become a part of the Bajoran Occupation.

“Everyone has their work,” was all he would say. Considering the plan I had set into motion, I had to be extremely careful in my dealings with him.

“You’ve been assigned to a new cell, which meets tonight,” Entek informed me. I had expected the reassignment: a probe begins at the bottom, and up until this moment I’d been the leader of my cell. “I’ve also recalibrated your comm chip. May I have your old one, please?” he asked.

“Certainly,” I replied and gave it to him. It could have been worse. Entek was tough and ambitious, but he was not one of the agents who feared and resented my former status as a “son of Tain.”

“I appreciate your attitude, Elim. This could have been awkward,” he said with honest relief.

“We’re professionals, Corbin. We make our adjustments when necessary.” No one knew the real reason for my humiliation; everyone assumed that Tain had not been pleased with my results, and that I was being used as an example of how failure is punished.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask,” he said.

“That’s very kind of you. Some information, if you’re allowed.” My request was disguised as an afterthought. “I assume tonight’s meeting will involve a mission. I don’t want to know what it is, but I’d like to know how much time I have for my personal transition before I’m assigned.” I was as reasonable and unattached to the request as possible, but his answer was vital to my plan. Entek hesitated. It was awkward for him after all, I thought. This was not only a question I would never have asked Limor, but it was complicated by the fact that until this moment I had been Entek’s superior.

“You leave in two days,” he finally replied. My heart sank. Lokar would not be back on Cardassia Prime until the following week for the beginning of the negotiations regarding the Bajoran Occupation.

“Thank you, Corbin.”

“Will that give you enough time?” he asked. His consideration was highly unusual, but I assumed he was going out of his way to make sure I was not unnecessarily humiliated by my demotion to probe status.

“Some adjustments will have to wait.” I inclined my head and started to leave.

“Would it help to know that the assignment is on Bajor?” Corbin asked. At that moment it hit me. Ah yes. I had misread Entek’s awkwardness and consideration. I still felt Tain’s hand on my shoulder.

“Yes, it does, Corbin.” I bowed again and left. On an impulse, instead of leaving immediately, I went down the corridor to Tain’s old office. The door was open, and I stopped at the threshold just as Pythas looked up from a now much cleaner desk. He smiled shyly and stood up.

“Please come in, Elim,” he offered. What surprised me was how pleased I was to see him. Just as I had felt he was the only other person who deserved to be One Lubak, I now believed he was the only other person who deserved to occupy this office.

“Welcome to the visible world, Pythas,” I greeted.

“I didn’t campaign for this,” he said without apology.

“If you had, Tain would never have picked you. He deeply mistrusts politicians. Of course,” I added, “he was a superb politician himself.” Pythas appreciated the paradox.

“I was hoping you’d choose to stay,” he said.

“I had no choice. At my age what was I going to do? Lead wilderness treks in Morfan?” As we stood in the tiny, nondescript office, the planning center of so much activity affecting the lives of all Cardassians, I wondered how much, really, the generation of Tain and Prang had yielded to ours. I looked at Pythas’ kotraboard, which was set up to be played on a separate table. As far as I was personally concerned, Tain was still attempting to control the pieces.

“And what makes me happy, Pythas, is that I can continue to dominate you on the kotraboard.”

“Ah, we’ll see, Elim. We’ll see.”

“Well. I better be off.”

“Yes,” Pythas nodded. “Be careful, Elim.”

“Thank you. I’ll do my best.” As I walked back down the corridor, the message Tain had sent me when he made Pythas his successor became quite clear.

I waited in the darkness, this time across from Tolan’s orchids, on the other side of the children’s area. Mila and Tain were right about my sentimentality. I hadn’t dared go back to the Coranum grounds after my last meeting with Tain; now I was hiding in these bushes like a naughty boy hoping anxiously to see the object of his forbidden desire. Tain had arranged the mission to Bajor. Once I told Prang I would live in the house, Tain was going to facilitate my move against Lokar. And how elegant it was. My contact was a Bajoran double agent who would help me arrange Lokar’s assassination and make it look like the work of the Bajoran Resistance.