But the comm had been cut and Varis was gone.
“Well,” said Ro, pushing out a breath, “that didn’t exactly go as planned.” She glanced at Odo. “What do you think was going on there?”
“I don’t know,” Odo said thoughtfully. “Something we don’t understand.”
“You realize what the obvious answer is?” Ro said.
Odo growled.
“That they’re all dead,” Ro said, “and they have been for some time. Varis is faking being offended in order to cover up a mass murder.”
Odo brooded for a moment and then roused himself from his chair. “I won’t believe that until I see bodies,” he said. “Or DNA evidence. For Mhevita’s sake, we have to keep asking. And if there has been an atrocity . . .” He looked grim. “That is an even better reason to keep pressing for the truth.” He sighed. “I’ll go and tell Mhevita how this went.”
Ro nodded. “And I’ll inform the castellan’s office that we have some unhappy Romulans.”
“Under other circumstances he’d be pleased about that,” said Odo dryly.
But under these circumstances he wasn’t, and neither was Command. Keep pressing, came the message back from both. Keep asking.
“But ask who?” muttered Ro. Varis was ignoring her requests for a second conversation, and other officers she approached directed her back to one place—the repatriation office, under the care of one Major Varis. They seemed to have reached a dead end, and that surely didn’t bode well for Mhevita Pa’Dan’s son.
* * *
“Well, I guess this is good-bye.”
Katherine Pulaski stuck out her hand. Crusher shook it. “You know,” Crusher said, “I wasn’t really looking forward to seeing you.”
Pulaski gave a snort of laughter. “People don’t, generally speaking. What did I do this time?”
“You want the truth?”
“Always,” said Pulaski.
“I found it hard to forgive your attitude toward Data.”
“Quite right,” said Pulaski briskly. “I was an idiot. Sometimes I can be thickheaded. Ask Maurita.”
It was Crusher’s turn to laugh. This was the thing about Pulaski. The frankness encompassed herself. In fact, Crusher reflected, that was probably where it started. Katherine Pulaski cut herself no slack, and she extended the same courtesy to others.
“Have you thought more about what you’re going to do?” asked Pulaski. “Whether you need more . . . what was it you said? ‘Time to think’?”
“I’ve thought,” Crusher said. “I’m thinking.”
“Well, don’t think too long. Picard strikes me as a patient man, but not one to jerk around.”
Crusher had to agree that that was a fair summary of his personality. “And are you resigned to having an intelligence officer on board?”
Pulaski’s brows furrowed. “No! Of course not! I’m pissed as hell. But I’m going to have to make the best of it if I don’t want the mission to start off on the wrong foot. Damn it, Beverly, why don’t these spies and spooks get the hell out of the way and let us get on with the real business of life!”
“You’ve got my wholehearted agreement there,” Beverly said fervently. “But why not take the chance to do some observations of your own?”
“Huh?”
“Alden’s bringing his own Tzenkethi on board, isn’t he?”
“Yes. Cory, I think he said she was called.”
“I gather she’s had an interesting past.”
“Haven’t we all,” Pulaski muttered. “But yes, I’ll be watching this Cory—the same way Alden is watching Metiger.”
“When I said make observations, I meant something more benign,” Crusher said. “How often do we get the chance to meet a Tzenkethi like her? Someone who lived like most of them must do? We get to see only the ones permitted to leave, the ones trained to interact with us.”
“You’re assuming that everything Alden has told her about us is true,” Pulaski said.
“If I didn’t work on the assumption that people were mostly telling me the truth, I think I’d go mad,” Crusher said. “And I’d rather be mistaken about others than mistrustful of them.”
“It’s a good philosophy, Beverly. I wish I had your open-mindedness.”
“Keep me informed about the journey, won’t you?” Crusher said. “Send me your logs.”
Pulaski smiled broadly. There was, Crusher thought, probably no better way to please her than to take an interest in her work. “I will. And thank you for opening up to me. I know,” Pulaski said with a laugh, “that I’m not the kind of person to attract confidences. So I appreciate your trust. I’ve always felt that because of that brief time I spent on the Enterprise that people . . . I don’t know . . . put us into competition somehow. Compare and contrast us. But I was always more than chief medical officer on the Enterprise.”
“I know exactly how you feel,” said Crusher.
They had reached the docking bay by this point. Pulaski left with a cheery salute and Crusher went to watch the Athene Donald depart. She found on reflection that she was glad to have met Pulaski again. She had enjoyed the other woman’s prickly, honest, and stimulating company. Who would have thought? Crusher said to herself as the Athene Donald, bright and brimming with promise, set sail on its voyage. Katherine Pulaski, marriage guidance counselor. Sometimes you don’t need to go traveling to discover something new. Always keep an open mind. People can surprise you.
She strolled back the long way to the medical unit, enjoying the pleasant walk along the Plaza. Would she like to live here permanently? A charming fantasy unfolded in her mind, of the three of them here, a family, René running in and out of everywhere like the children she had seen earlier . . . It was so safe, so friendly, like a real home . . . Crusher shook herself. Nothing would prise Jean-Luc Picard from the Enterprise. If there was going to be a home for their family, that’s where it would be.
So what did that mean for their marriage?
Crusher put these thoughts, troubling as they were, aside. She had enough to occupy her for the rest of the day, completing the medical checks on the People and arranging for any necessary treatments. She turned into the unit and greeted her staff, getting an update on how the various cases were progressing. She entered her private office.
It was in disarray. She tapped her combadge. “Crusher to Blackmer. Could you come to the medical unit immediately? Someone has broken into my office.”
* * *
“Doctor Crusher hadn’t been to her office that morning,” Blackmer reported to Ro. “So the break-in could have happened anytime during the night.”
“But how?” said Ro. “It’s not as if the medical unit is left unattended.”
“But it’s quieter then, and the lights are dimmed. You could get past reception and into her office if you knew your business. And whoever did this knew their business.”
“Anything missing?”
“That’s the strange thing,” said Blackmer. “Nothing. Some samples on her desk seem to have attracted the most attention, but they were left behind. There was an attempt to access her logs, however—and hers are not the only ones. Someone’s been trying to gain unauthorized access to station security logs.”
Ro whistled under her breath. “Any thoughts yet as to who might be involved?”
Blackmer shifted uneasily in his seat. “I have a few ideas.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I know who I think it is. But everything I’ve turned up points in a different direction.”
“Evidence can be unhelpful that way,” Ro said dryly. “Go on. Who do you think is involved?”
Blackmer lowered his voice. “Well, who do you think? Their children are into everything. They’re—”
“For your information, Lieutenant Commander,” Ro said, “if you mean to imply that homelessness goes hand in hand with a tendency to thieve, you’d better not say that outright to any Bajoran of my generation. Do you have any hard evidence to link
any of the People to the break-in or the attempts to access either of the logs?”
“Not as such—”
“But something has come up.”
“Well, yes—”
“Which is?”
Blackmer sighed. “There’s a Tzenkethi on board DS9.”
“A Tzenkethi?” Ro frowned. “But hasn’t the Athene Donald left?”
“Yes. Doctor Crusher saw it off.”
“So who can it be?” Ro turned to the comm and opened a channel to the Athene Donald. Tanj was on the line within a few minutes. “Whoever your Tzenkethi is, Captain, it’s not Metiger. I can see her from where I’m sitting.”
“Wasn’t there another Tzenkethi supposed to travel with them?” Blackmer said quietly from across the desk. “Alden was traveling with one.”
Alden came on the line. “Yes, Cory’s traveling with me.”
“Did you go on board with her?”
“What do you mean?”
“Did you board the Athene Donald together?”
“No, but she knew the departure time—”
“Could I prevail upon you to check,” said Ro patiently, “whether she is in fact on board?”
The search took no more than a couple of minutes. Alden came back on the line white-faced.
“I’m guessing she’s not where you thought she was,” Ro said.
“No,” said Alden. “No, she’s not. She must have misunderstood when we were leaving—”
“Or decided not to come along?” suggested Ro.
“No, no, she wouldn’t do something like that . . . Captain, Cory is very vulnerable and not very experienced. I’m concerned she may have got into trouble. She could be hurt, lost—I don’t know! But she wouldn’t simply miss departure without telling me.”
“Then we’ll proceed under the assumption that she’s still on board DS9, and we’ll look for her.”
“Please, and hurry. And let me speak to her as soon as you find her.”
“I will,” said Ro, and cut the channel. “So,” she said, turning to Blackmer, “it seems we now know whom we’re looking for. Any thoughts as to why she might have stayed?”
“She could have simply misunderstood when the ship was leaving,” Blackmer said doubtfully. “But if you want my guess, she’s obeying orders.”
Ro almost did a double take. “Excuse me?”
“Alden’s bluffing. She was never intended to go on the Athene Donald.”
“For what reason?”
Blackmer shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m not a spy.”
“You’ve got a suspicious enough mind,” Ro said. “Couldn’t she simply have decided to part company with Alden? DS9 is as good a place as any to set out on your own.”
“We’ll see. But I’d like to ask her about the break-in.”
“And the People?”
“For the moment,” said Blackmer, “they’re off the hook.”
* * *
They remained off the hook, but it seemed that Corazame too was not likely to be responsible. A routine check of records showed that she had left on a private freighter for Bajor some hours prior to Crusher leaving her office the previous night. Alden, when pressed, claimed to know nothing about this trip.
“But Odo had some interesting things to say about her,” Ro said to Crusher and Blackmer, who had joined her in her office for updates on the situation.
Blackmer frowned. “What does he know about this?”
“Turns out he met her in the temple. They had a long chat. Odo’s impression was that she was eager to go home, but not under any condition Alden would attach to her return.” Ro gave her colleagues a meaningful glance. “Which, practically speaking, means a return to Ab-Tzenketh is an impossibility for her. She may simply have decided to strike out on her own—and, in fact, there’s nothing we can do about it.”
Blackmer looked thoughtful. “She’s not a Federation citizen, is she?”
Ro shook her head. “No, her status is still asylum seeker, as far as I can make out. But there are no constraints on what she can do and where she can go, provided she keeps her sponsor, Alden, informed. So if Cory has decided to go off and spend a month on retreat in the Kasella Mountains, she’s free to do so. She’s free to do whatever she chooses in Federation space.”
“Except Alden doesn’t know where she is,” Blackmer said.
“That’s what he says,” Ro said.
“And all the while,” Crusher said, pointing to Blackmer’s tricorder, “we have Tzenkethi life signs on the station.”
Even as she spoke, the pulse on the tricorder flickered and went out. Blackmer shook it, but nothing happened. “Now, that is confusing. And more than a little worrying.”
“At least all our facts now tally,” Ro said dryly. “We didn’t think we had a Tzenkethi on board. And now the machines have caught up with us.”
Blackmer tapped the device. “It could be a glitch,” he said. “New systems and everything . . . But I was so sure that she was still here . . .”
“It could be another Tzenkethi entirely,” Crusher said puckishly, with a wink at Ro.
Don’t torment him, mouthed Ro.
“But I didn’t . . . I haven’t . . .” Blackmer shook the tricorder hard. Nothing changed. “Huh. Well, I guess that’s that.”
“So, no Tzenkethi, no suspect,” said Ro briskly. “Who else do we have in mind? Have you been able to pin anything on the People, Jeff?”
She meant it tongue-in-cheek, but Blackmer shook his head seriously. “To be honest, I’m finding the whole business baffling. The forensic team is struggling.”
“Is that surprising? Surely it means that whoever broke into Crusher’s office knew what they were about?” said Ro.
“The problem is being able to tell what’s their DNA and what isn’t,” Blackmer said.
Ro glanced at Crusher. “Is it possible to conceal DNA in that way?”
“We don’t know much about their capabilities,” Crusher said. “But everything I’ve seen suggests that what technology they have is decrepit.”
“And a burglary isn’t consistent with what I’ve seen,” said Ro. “They seem completely honest to me.”
“I’d agree,” said Crusher.
“But they’re into everything,” Blackmer said. “The children . . .”
Crusher smiled. “That’s one of the things I like best about them.”
Ro smiled too. “Sorry, Jeff, but if you want to arrest Oioli and the others on suspicion of burglary, you’re going to have to bring me real evidence. In the meantime . . .”
“I know, I know,” said Blackmer gloomily. “Round up the usual suspects.”
* * *
Peter Alden was sitting in the Athene Donald’s rec room, staring out into space, when Pulaski found him. He looked preoccupied—worried, even, as well he might. Pulaski glanced around the room, checked who was within hearing range, and eased herself into the seat opposite Alden. After a moment, he noticed her. His face hardened. Pulaski smiled without pity. “The best-laid plans of spies and informers, eh, Commander?” she said.
Alden made himself visibly relax. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on! This business with your pet Tzenkethi. Corny.”
“Her name is Cory.” A little steel had crept into Alden’s voice. “And she is nobody’s pet. What about her?”
“Well, where is she?”
Alden folded his arms. “I’ve no idea.”
“No idea?” Pulaski tutted. “Careless of you. Very careless. Or perhaps it’s nothing to do with you.”
“I’m afraid you’re not making any sense.”
“All I mean is that perhaps your asset decided she had her own ideas about how to use her talents?”
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about—”
“No?” Pulaski leaned toward him conspiratorially but didn’t bother to lower her voice. “Come on, Commander. I love a spy caper as much as the next person.” The word “caper�
�� hit, she noted with satisfaction. “So what’s going on? Did she decide she wasn’t interested in being used as a tool by Starfleet Intelligence after all?”
Alden glanced around at their audience, who were pretending not to listen. “This isn’t appropriate, Doctor—”
“No! Wait!” Pulaski snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it! She was never meant to come on board at all, was she? All that fuss about getting you on board was cover for her to slip away. I bet she’s halfway back to Ab-Tzenketh right now, to embed herself there—isn’t that the word you use for it? ‘Embed’?”
“Actually, no,” said Alden. “I don’t know where you’re getting these ideas, but they’re fantasy. What do you think I am? I wouldn’t send Cory back to Ab-Tzenketh against her will. That would be a death sentence for her—”
“Did I say it was unwilling? I bet she was dying to get back. It’s beautiful there, isn’t it?” She turned slightly in her chair, calling over to Metiger, who was sitting a few seats away, and had, Pulaski devoutly hoped, been listening to this entire exchange. “Hey, Metiger, I bet it’s beautiful on Ab-Tzenketh at this time of year, isn’t it?”
Slowly, and with the grace and dignity of a near-supernatural being, Metiger unfurled herself from her seat. Her skin shone so brightly it might almost have been on fire. “Ab-Tzenketh is always beautiful,” she said. As ever, people stopped what they were doing when she spoke. Some even closed their eyes. “The Autarch’s grace blesses us in all ways, at all times.”
“Well, no wonder Corny jumped ship,” said Pulaski. “I bet she couldn’t wait to get back to the old homestead. But you must be pissed if she’s really gone AWOL, Commander. No handy reports coming back your way. I wonder what the folks back at Starfleet Intelligence have to say about that.”
Metiger turned and left, leaving the room a little dimmer, as if enchantment had disappeared from the world. There were one or two audible sighs of regret.
“Was it something I said?” Pulaski said. “Or perhaps it was you, Commander. To lose one Tzenkethi is a misfortune. To lose two—”
Abruptly, Alden stood up. “You’ve made your point. For what it’s worth, I have no idea why Cory didn’t board the Athene Donald, and I’m worried sick about her. But I’ll say this—if Cory was our agent, heading back home undercover, this little performance of yours would probably have killed her—”
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