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  He closed his eyes. In that situation, he would ask himself: Is it worth sending a needed doctor or medical researcher off Cardassia Prime on a mission that may or may not succeed? Or would he be better off letting everyone die and letting the plague die with them? Then, after some time had elapsed and someone had discovered a cure, sending in a cleaning crew and beginning all over again?

  He knew the answer to that. He knew it. He would do the most efficient job he could, the one that would bring the best results. If Central Command saw what this disease did, they would do anything they could to keep it from coming to Cardassia Prime. They would help from the surface, but they would not send help. It would be too dangerous to send help.

  Dukat sighed and opened his eyes. “All right,” he said. “Send for the woman. But do it unofficially, as a family emergency, just as you suggested.”

  “Can she bring assistants?” Kellec asked.

  Dukat glared at him. Kellec was never satisfied, always wanting more. Always wanting too much.

  “Assistants would be a doctor’s first request,” Narat said. “It would be yet another guarantee.”

  Dukat was being manipulated and he knew it. But he couldn’t see any way out of this. He couldn’t see any way at all. At least, not a way he liked. Not a way that ended in success. This felt like one of his only chances.

  “I want no more than five Federation people here, less if possible,” he said.

  “Good,” Narat said.

  “You may not say ‘good’ after a moment,” Dukat said, “because I have conditions.”

  Kellec tilted his head back. Narat held his position, waiting, like the good Cardassian that he was.

  “First,” Dukat said, “they will have access only to our medical files. Second, they shall be restricted to the medical areas of Terok Nor only. Third—”

  “That’s not possible,” Kellec said. “What if the illness spreads so fast that we can’t get the patients here?”

  “We’ll deal with it then,” Narat said.

  “Third,” Dukat said as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “they shall have no contact with the outside while they’re here.”

  “But what if they need information they didn’t bring?” Kellec asked.

  Dukat glared at him. “I will not negotiate these terms.”

  “We can deal with special requests on a case-by-case basis, I assume,” Narat said, more to Kellec than Dukat. “Am I right?”

  Dukat wasn’t even willing to make that promise, although he knew it was probably sensible. “Fourth, if I suspect even one of them is spying for the Federation, none of them will leave here alive. Is that clear?”

  “Very,” Kellec said.

  “If your ex-wife is willing to come here under those conditions, then we will be happy to have her,” Dukat said. “But I do not want a Federation ship docking at Terok Nor. I do not want one in Cardassian space.”

  “Then how will she get here?” Kellec asked. “You’ve just quarantined the station, so no ships can come here.”

  Good question. The man was always thinking.

  “I’ll have one of the freighter pilots trapped here on Terok Nor take his ship to meet the Federation vessel at the border. I’ll send a few of my men along to make sure nothing untoward happens.”

  “Make sure they’re all pilots,” Narat said softly.

  Dukat felt himself go cold. Narat was right. There was no guarantee the pilot would live long enough to ferry their Federation passengers back to Terok Nor.

  “Tell your ex-wife to get here as quickly as possible,” Dukat said. “I’ll handle the travel arrangements personally. And Kellec?”

  “Yes?” Kellec said.

  “Don’t see this as a victory for the Bajoran people. I meant what I said about spies. Your Federation help had better be on their best behavior. I will give no second chances.”

  Kellec had the good sense to only nod.

  Chapter Eight

  FOR THE SECOND TIME in a few days, Katherine Pulaski was packing her bags. She was in her quarters on Deep Space Five. All of her possessions were scattered about. She had just unpacked, and hadn’t had time to hang her favorite paintings or to place her few sculptures. Her hardcopy books stood on a single shelf, including the first edition of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes stories that Data had given her upon her departure. It was a sentimental gift, and it had surprised her coming from Data. Apparently that surprise had shown on her face because he had tilted his head in that slightly robotic way he had, and asked, “Is the giving of parting gifts not a human custom, especially when the recipient will be missed?”

  “It is, Data,” she had said, and then hugged him, to his surprise and (she had to admit) to her own.

  She stared at that book for a moment, but it would only add weight. Better to keep it here until she returned.

  If she returned.

  She had only a few more items to add to her bag, and very little time in which to do it. Her assistants would be reporting here before they went to the docking area to reboard the Enterprise. How strange it would be to be a guest on the very starship she had just served on.

  Her hands were shaking, but it was not from fear. It was a release of tension. Her meeting with Starfleet Medical had been dicey. Thank heavens the Enterprise was still in dry dock. She had needed Beverly Crusher’s help.

  Kellec’s request had come in a few hours before. It was less than Starfleet had hoped for. They wanted to send in a large team to study the problem, perhaps work on Bajor. They wanted to use it so that they could gather more information on both the Bajorans and the Cardassians, as well as find a solution to this plague.

  But some Cardassian official had anticipated this. The restrictions were severe. Pulaski wasn’t sure she could do the work with only a handful of assistants. At first Starfleet wanted her to wait until they could get four specialists in plagues and alien diseases to go with her, but it would take days for the specialists to arrive from their various posts. She didn’t have days. That was the one thing Kellec had made very clear.

  He wasn’t sure he would survive this. The Cardassian doctor who was looking over his shoulder as Kellec contacted Pulaski didn’t look very confident either. The information she had gotten from them, purposely sketchy, was awful. They did give her the death rate on their space station, and it was climbing by the hour.

  She played the message for Starfleet Medical. Then she asked that Beverly Crusher accompany her, as well as the three other ranking medical officers currently on Deep Space Five.

  Starfleet Medical turned her down. This was a risky mission, they said. They didn’t dare send that many valued officers.

  Meaning they could sacrifice researchers but military medical staff was in short supply.

  Meaning there was a good chance Pulaski and her team might not come back.

  Starfleet Medical was going to try to negotiate with the Cardassians—after all, they reasoned, this was a medical emergency, and working together could benefit everyone—but Pulaski knew that wouldn’t work. She had asked Crusher to come with her to argue for the high-ranking personnel, which hadn’t worked. But Crusher had argued against negotiation, and on this Starfleet Medical had listened to their former director. They decided—and the Federation representatives agreed—to let Pulaski go in with lower-ranking assistants.

  The next argument was about whether to bring in sophisticated equipment that would help send information back—not medical information, but information on the Cardassians and the Bajorans. Crusher had proved her worth here too, arguing that such equipment would jeopardize the lives of those being sent it.

  “This is a mission of mercy,” she had said. “We need to treat it like one. If Dr. Pulaski and her colleagues gain information on the Cardassians and Bajorans as a result, they can be debriefed when they return.”

  If they return. The last sticking point had been travel arrangements. They were going to use the Cardassians’ plans to get them to Terok Nor, the s
pace station that Kellec was on, but Pulaski had no idea how they would be able to leave. She was supposed to contact the Federation from Terok Nor when she was ready to go, but she had a hunch that sounded too easy. And what if she wanted to leave and they didn’t want her to? They had to have a failsafe for this, and so far no one had suggested one that seemed workable.

  Pulaski finished the last of her packing. Amazing how she could bring her life down to two little suitcases—one a sophisticated medical kit with everything she hoped she would need. The other contained basics like clothing and Kellec’s favorite—hot chocolate. He couldn’t get it anymore on Bajor.

  She closed the case just as someone hit the chime outside her door. “Come in,” she said.

  The door slid open and a woman entered. She was human—all of the team was, a precaution that Kellec had mentioned and Starfleet Medical had agreed with. She had blondish brown hair and compassionate eyes. She wore street clothes, just as she had been ordered to do. They were flowing garments of a gauzelike material, in a pale blue that became her fair skin.

  “You must be Crystal Marvig,” Pulaski said. “Welcome.”

  “Thank you,” Marvig said. She glanced around the quarters, her gaze falling on the books. “I didn’t know you collected real books.”

  “I don’t,” Pulaski said. “But each of these is personal to me, in its own way.”

  “I love books,” Marvig said. “Particularly twentieth-century literature—you know the kind. The stuff that predicts the future.”

  Pulaski laughed. “I’ve seen it. It’s amazing what they believed would happen.”

  “And how right they could be,” Marvig said. She clasped her hands behind her back. The military posture didn’t go with her relaxed attire.

  “You’ve been briefed on this mission, I assume,” Pulaski said.

  “They told me it was a need-to-know.”

  Pulaski cursed under her breath. She had wanted her assistants to know what they were getting into. “And what did Starfleet Medical believe you need to know?”

  “That this is a highly sensitive mission, and that it’s quite dangerous.”

  “Brief and vague,” Pulaski said. “How like them.” She sighed. “Let’s wait until Ensign Governo gets here, and then I’ll brief you both.”

  “Edgar Governo? He’s been assigned to this as well?” Marvig asked.

  Pulaski nodded. “Do you know him?”

  “We’ve been serving together here on Deep Space Five. He’s never been on an away mission.”

  “Well, this is more complicated than an away mission,” Pulaski said. “I trust they told you to pack lightly.”

  “And to keep suspicious items from my single piece of luggage, whatever that means.”

  Pulaski recited a list of items she believed could cause them problems on Terok Nor. Marvig shook her head at each item. As Pulaski was finishing, the door chime rang again.

  “Come in,” she said.

  Ensign Governo entered. He was a thin young man with dark hair and intense eyes. He wore his regulation boots beneath black pants, and over a cotton T-shirt he wore a leather jacket. The effect was retro, and more stylish than Pulaski had expected. Seeing Starfleet personnel out of uniform was always a surprise.

  She had met Governo just after her conference with Starfleet Medical. He was younger than she had would have thought from his record. He had an amazing gift for understanding alien physiology; it had gained him awards and accolades at medical school, and he had graduated at about the same time as Marvig, who was older.

  Governo had a small bag slung over his shoulder. “I’m ready when you are, Doctor.” Then, before she could respond, he saw Marvig standing near the books. “Crystal!”

  “Edgar.” She smiled. It was a warm smile, just the kind a patient needed to see. Pulaski was glad to see it too. Compassion and empathy were probably lacking at Terok Nor. “It looks like we’re going on an adventure.”

  “Yes,” Pulaski said, “you are.”

  “Only the three of us?”

  “No. Alyssa Ogawa will join us on the Enterprise. She’s one of the best nurses in the fleet, and I’m pleased to have her. She’ll outrank both of you, and I want you to listen to her.”

  The two of them nodded.

  “Were you briefed at all?” Pulaski asked Governo.

  “I was told that this mission would be difficult and dangerous,” he said, “and that if I had any qualms about working with infectious disease, I could back out now without a black mark on my record.”

  “That’s more than I was offered,” Marvig said.

  “Well, I’m offering you more,” Pulaski said. “I want you to know exactly what you’re getting into.”

  She explained the situation to them, including the rules the Cardassians placed on their visit. She also explained the danger, the difficulties they would have on a station owned by a people who were not affiliated with the Federation, and the Federation’s conflicting motives in sending them there.

  “I do not want you to spy,” Pulaski said. “You will be debriefed when you return. Remember all you can. I’m not even sure you should record anything in your personal logs—aside from the things you did that day, or medical notes. We have to be very cautious. Very cautious.”

  “Why are the Cardassians even allowing us to come?” Governo asked.

  “They didn’t say,” Pulaski said, “and neither did Kellec. But I have a guess.”

  They waited, staring at her.

  She took a deep breath. “I think they think this disease is so contagious none of them will be able to avoid it. I think they’re gambling on it not affecting us, that we’ll have a chance of curing it before everyone dies.”

  “Wow,” Marvig said. “That’s a dark view.”

  Pulaski nodded. “They wouldn’t have sent for us otherwise. The Bajorans have no power over the Cardassians, and the Cardassians have repeatedly rebuffed Federation overtures in the past. I think this request smacks of desperation.”

  “I thought we were in negotiations with the Cardassians,” Marvig said.

  “We are,” Pulaski said, “but they’re not going well, and there are rumors they will fail. For whatever reason, the Cardassians do not trust the Federation, and we are representatives of the Federation. That’s why we’re going in an unofficial capacity, and that’s what makes this mission even more dangerous.”

  “How’s that?” Governo asked.

  “If we run into trouble,” Pulaski said, “we’re on our own. The Enterprise will be just outside of Cardassian space, but she cannot enter it without Cardassian permission, permission they did not give in this emergency to get us to Terok Nor. I can’t imagine that they would give it to get us out.”

  Marvig’s face grew pale. “But what if we need to escape?”

  “We have to be creative,” Pulaski said. She stared at both of them. They were so young. Alyssa Ogawa was young too, but more experienced. A starship did that for its crew. “But we have to understand the risks. The greatest risk for all of us here is that we will not come out alive.”

  “What do you think the chances are of that?” Governo asked.

  “High,” Pulaski said. “I won’t lie to you about that. I think at best we have a fifty-fifty chance of survival.”

  “I don’t understand,” Marvig said. “If we’re in negotiations with the Cardassians, then why would they kill us?”

  “We don’t know what this disease is,” Pulaski said. “And we’ve never seen the inside of one of their ore-processing stations. If one of us inadvertently comes across information that the Cardassians see as sensitive, we could all be punished for it.”

  They were staring at her as if it were her fault the mission was dangerous. Perhaps it was. Perhaps this wouldn’t be happening at all if it weren’t for her relationship with Kellec. But that didn’t matter. What mattered were all those lives being lost.

  “You may back out now,” she said, “as long as you keep what I’ve told you con
fidential.”

  Governo seemed to be considering what she was saying, but Marvig jutted out her chin.

  “I joined Starfleet so that I could do more than practice general medicine in some human colony. I joined it for the risks,” she said. “It wouldn’t do my oath any good to back out now, just when things get really difficult.”

  Governo looked at her as if he were surprised at what she said. “You’re right.” He nodded, a crisp, military move. “I’m a healer first.”

  “All right,” Pulaski said. “Let’s hope that all my warnings were merely an overreaction to the Cardassians’ conditions.”

  But in her heart, she knew they weren’t. And she wondered, as she gathered up her things, whether she had misrepresented the odds to the two before her.

  If anything, she had overestimated their chances of survival. If all the stories Kellec had told her were to be believed, she would be surprised if they got off the station at all.

  Chapter Nine

  KIRA NERYS STOOD in the heat, sweat plastering her filthy shirt to her back, her feet swollen inside her boots. A blister rubbed against the inside of her heel. These boots were too small, even without the swelling. She had taken them—a gift really—from a dying friend. Amazing, that all they had to give each other anymore were items of clothing, bits of food, things that they had once taken for granted.

  Her earring tinkled in the breeze. She had been wishing for a breeze not too long ago, but it only seemed to make things hotter. She was outside a rebel cell, and it wasn’t even her cell. That’s why they kept her here, waiting, until they made some decision about her.

  She stared at the makeshift tents. Whoever ran this cell didn’t plan things real well. They were in a hidden valley, one that was not on the maps but was pretty well known in this part of Bajor. The tents were pitched near a small creek, bone dry in the summer heat. If she had been in charge of this cell, she would have had them pitch their tents on the mountainside, where scraggly trees and boulders would have provided cover. As it was, if the Cardassians found this valley now, they would have found the cell.