“I . . . can’t say,” he replied ambiguously.

“Well, Ican. There’s certainly nothing here to keep me.”

“I never told you how sorry I was about Ziyal’s death.” Odo could be quite sensitive in such matters.

“You did, actually,” I nodded. “But thank you.”

“Still, you and Dr. Bashir have created a strong bond.”

“Not really,” I answered quickly. “I’m afraid that what I have to offer has run its course. It’s certainly no match for darts.” I heard the bitterness of my tone, and so did Odo. We sat in silence for a moment.

“I understand you’ll be involved in the invasion. You must be pleased.” Odo steered us away from the heaviness that had descended.

“Yes,” I replied, grateful for the change of subject. “It’s very gratifying to know that I can be of some use to the effort.”

Odo was about to say something when he saw Quark approaching. He rose abruptly from the bar.

“I have to get back to work,” he stated.

“When do you want to schedule your consultation?” I asked. Odo–no doubt influenced by his budding relationship with the Major–was about to branch out sartorially. But it occurred to me that Quark was the last person he wanted to know about it.

“We’ll talk,” he replied, nodding to Quark as he briskly marched back to the Promenade.

“What’s his hurry?” Quark asked.

“He has a ‘situation’ out on the Promenade,” I said.

“A big fight. Sorry I missed it. What was that all about?”

“The usual,” I replied. “People rushing to get home.”

10

Entry:

My solitary confinement was agony. The only way I got through it was to rethink all my attitudes about the Pit and the Wilderness and to focus on how I could make my strategems more effective. Just as I had learned to do when Uncle Enabran locked me in that suffocating closet. Was this the universal torture for failure, I wondered? I also thought of Palandine, constantly replaying our meeting in my mind. I felt more able to keep my despair at a distance, which in turn allowed me to breathe. When I returned, even the sessions in the Pit weren’t quite so disastrous. I did, however, notice the twinkle in Calyx’s eyes when he was teaching, and that somehow helped ease my fear.

The next time I was assigned to evade capture in the Wilderness I decided to wait until darkness before I made any effort to find my way back. I was left on the edge of a long, narrow rock formation that sloped down to the southern part of the Mekar, where it was said that the last of the hongestill lived. The hongewere nocturnal flying predators whose medium size belied their strength and ferocity. Their swooping attacks were known to kill and carry off large canids. They lived in subterranean nests during the day, and as I burrowed into an escarpment that offered a depression large enough to conceal me until night I was trembling at the prospect of meeting one. The vision of wild honge,the intense heat, and my growing claustrophobic discomfort filled me with a choking anxiety. Not only would I fail again–I’d probably die horribly.

I stayed absolutely still, counting my breaths. Just as I began to stem the rising panic, I noticed a movement in the earth in front of me. My first thought was the honge,and my heart thumped against my chest as if it wanted to flee my body. But the movement was more like the wind stirring the loose sandy soil. I was able to discern that it was being caused by a colony of desert regnars,reptilian creatures that are rarely encountered–and for good reason. They blend in with their surroundings with such transforming facility, that only by remaining still for so long was I able to detect them. They knew I was there, I’m sure, and they were attempting to move away from me. But they never panicked. They only made their moves when the wind or the shifting shadows masked their progress.

I was totally absorbed and fascinated by these creatures. They moved in silent concert, fanning out multidirectionally so that the surface of the sand would just look as if a slight wind were rearranging the grains. It was the most elegant choreography. I observed how changes of color tone rippled across their skin as they moved between light and shadow, rock and soil. I counted five of them. They moved toward a deeper recess, which most likely led to a safe retreat. Somehow, I knew intuitively that they were my answer to this incredibly difficult situation.

I also knew that in the dying light I would soon lose them forever–which felt the same as losing my last hope. I moved my right hand very slowly toward the closest regnar,amazed that I was able to maintain a steady control. With a sudden move I was even more amazed that I was able to grab hold of it, careful not to do it any harm. With my left hand I took the sun cover from my hat, filled it with the sandy soil, and placed the regnarinside. Before I closed it up, I noticed that although the creature had eyes, they didn’t focus. This beautiful, magnificently adaptable creation of the Wilderness was blind, and yet it had more sensory awareness than any technology we could ever imagine or invent. I closed the sun cover and placed the regnarin a safe pocket where it would not be crushed. I apologized to the others for disrupting their family; I explained that I had great need of this creature. Not only was Mila (as I eventually called him) the answer to my current problem, he was as important as any of the docents at Bamarren, with the possible exception of Calyx.

When night came, I emerged from my lair. I was fortunate that none of the three moons were shining. Quietly, carefully (the hunting parties had already fanned out across the Wilderness), I stood and allowed my cramped muscles to expand in the desert night. The Taluvian Constellations were pulsing their complicated rhythmic patterns–indicating, according to Docent Rilon, an advanced intelligence that astrophysicists were still attempting to decode. After hours spent buried alive in the suffocating heat and dust, the freshness, the clarity of the smells and sounds and feel of the night air against my skin was overwhelming. I was a new person, no longer intimidated by the task at hand. Unlike the last time, I had preparation and an ally.

Thanks to Calyx and the recent work in the Pit I was finally learning how to sense an opponent’s energy, to anticipate his attack and choose or change a stratagem in the moment. Everything gives off energy signals, he told us, and these signals were organized according to the electromagnetic field that undergirds all creation. The same is true with our intentions: they, too, are organized along these energy lines.

“If you train your awareness to be sympathetic, to tune into the interdependence of energies, then you can anticipate your opponent.” Calyx told us that anticipation was just the beginning, and that as we grew stronger we would be able to “foresense,” by which he meant that we would be able to know who our opponents were before they appeared. Calyx then gave me one of his long looks, which included the unsettling twinkle.

As I stood in the darkness of the Wilderness, I first made certain that no one was near. Satisfied that I was not being observed by my hunters, I then used the Prime Taluvian Constellation to orient myself directionally. Once I determined the direction of Bamarren, the hard work began. Between the rock formations lay great expanses of flat desert. During the day anything that moved in that expanse was exposed to the naked eye from a great distance. Plus the midday heat severely punished anyone foolish enough to be traveling out in the open. The Mekar sun was a challenge even to heat‑tolerant Cardassians. I had to cover as much distance at night and find rock cover by sunrise. Of course the hunters knew this, and while one had to be careful traveling at night, the real danger was not finding an undetectable niche during the day. And then there was my greatest fear: the more effective the hiding place, the worse my claustrophobia would flare. My earlier confidence began to ebb. I felt a slight movement from the pocket where Mila was. Whether or not that was one of Calyx’s signals, I knew that I had to be on my way.