“What’s going to happen next?” asked Jase, suddenly.

“What?” Garrett felt the way she had when her mother caught her climbing on the roof when Garrett was a little girl (and wasn’t thata whole other story). “Well, I’ve talked to your Nan on Betazed. We all think it would be better for you to live there.”

Jase looked solemn. “Does it matter what I think?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’d like to stay here. I know I can’t,” he added quickly, “but I’d like to. I love you, Mom.”

Garrett put both arms around her son. No resistance this time. She felt the tension melt from his limbs as if he were flowing into her and becoming one. It was the way she remembered he’d been as a baby: a little ball of fury until she’d taken him in her arms and soothed him back to sleep.

“Oh, Mom.” He pressed his hot face against her neck and she felt the wet of his tears on her skin. “Mom, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m…”

“No, quiet,” she whispered, tears burning on her cheeks. “It’s all right; it’s all right for you to have been angry. I understand. I love you, Jase. I’ll always love you. And who knows? Maybe, someday, I’ll be able to take you with me, and we’ll live together on a starship and travel to places so far away that the light of where we’ve been won’t have time to catch up.”

She hugged him close. “Someday,” she said, and believed it.

In the turbolift, Castillo glanced at his chronometer, saw the time, and knew that Garrett was going to eat him for breakfast. He was going to be so late it wasn’t even funny. (Not that Castillo understood the origin of that expression. Where was the humor in being late? Maybe Glemoor could explain it.) It wasn’t his fault, either: the people over at transfer, the ones from Starfleet Command, theywere the ones insisting on forms being voice-printed three times over. Chain of custody, they called it. Figured. The first time the captain wanted Castillo at an official function—had specifically requestedhe show up, in dress uniform, on time—and here he was going to be late, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

Other than a few pleasantries, they’d exchanged not two paragraphs on the ride over in the shuttlecraft. And now the turbolift seemed to be taking forever. Castillo fidgeted, staring in that blank, abstracted way at the flashing indicators just above the doors that he always did when riding in a turbolift with a complete stranger. Only he wasn’t with a stranger. They simply didn’t know to what to say to one another.

Then Halak spoke. “Any idea why they wanted the inquiry on Starbase 12 rather than the Enterprise?”

Careful. He’d been briefed on what to say. Castillo spoke to the indicator lights. “They don’t tell me why they do anything.”

“Mmm-hmmm.” A pause. “But you’ll be there.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You’re in dress. So I figured you were going to sit in. Observe?”

Castillo hiked one shoulder. “Maybe.” Then because he couldn’t stand the feeling he was having—the way he heard Tyvan’s voice in his head, telling him he couldn’t keep running from himself forever and would have to have more courage than he thought he possessed—Castillo said, “Stop.”

The turbolift jerked to a halt.

Halak turned, eyebrows raised. “Ensign? Is there something wrong?”

“No,” said Castillo. He licked his lips. Tyvan’s voice again: Getting started will be the hard part.“Yes.”

He filled his lungs, blew out. “Commander, I have to tell you something.”

“About what?”

Castillo was already regretting this (go away, Tyvan, just go away!),but he pushed on. “About what happened with Ani. Everything that happened, it was my fault.”

Halak’s brow creased. “Yourfault. How?”

“I…well, you know, we were close. Before you came.” When Halak just nodded, he continued, “And then you showed up and I could tell that Ani, she’d fallen hard. I was jealous, but I got over that. At least, I thought I had. People change their minds all the time, and…”

Castillo looked away for a moment, dreading what he knew he had to say. Sucked in a breath and continued. “Anyway, I would watch the two of you, and she looked so damned happy, I couldn’t stand it. I thought all kinds of things. Crazy stuff now that I look back on it, but pretty awful stuff.”

“I can imagine.” Halak’s voice was quiet. “You’re not the only one who’s ever been jealous.”

“Yeah, well, I thought I’d gotten past that. And then Ani came to talk to me. This was about a week before she died. We were still close after she took up with you, and we’d talk. We were friends.” Castillo wondered if he sounded too defensive then thought to hell with it.

“I know that. I never held it against you.” Halak paused. “What did she say?”

“She said she was having second thoughts. I wasn’t sure what about; she’d gone to see Stern. She wouldn’t tell me what Stern said, but whatever it was, she was pretty upset.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, Ensign. Ani’s dead, and…we’ll just never know. Dr. Stern won’t tell us, and it’s more than likely that, after the inquiry today…”

Halak broke off, and Castillo thought he’d just let this pass, but Halak squared his shoulders and said, “After the inquiry today, I doubt very much that I’ll ever serve with Dr. Stern, or anyone else from the Enterprise,ever again.”

Castillo knew something about that but judged that now was not the time. He had to finish this.

“Ani talked about wanting to break it off with you.” Castillo closed his eyes, remembering the surge of elation he’d felt, the sheer joy that maybe Anisar Batra might be his after all. “But then you took off, and she was beside herself. Whatever was bothering her, she didn’t want to wait until the two of you got to Betazed.”

“All right,” said Halak, puzzled. “But I still don’t understand…”

“I told her where you’d gone,” Castillo blurted. “I told her that you were on your way to Farius Prime.”

Halak was stunned. “You?But how did youknow?”

This was the hard part, Castillo knew. Best just to admit it and go on. What had Tyvan said? He can’t hate you anymore than you loathe yourself.“I was on the bridge when Bulast patched that call through to you. I used my bridge access code to break into his communications archives and pull up the message. Then I gave the information to Ani. If I hadn’t, she wouldn’t have gone, and she’d still be alive.”

For a moment, Halak said nothing. Then he let out a very soft breath, almost a sigh. “Yes, that’s true, isn’t it? I guess it also means that I’d be dead instead.”

“Sir?”

“There’d have been no one there to save my life, twice over. Ensign, why did you do it?” Halak’s voice trembled, and Castillo thought that although the commander appeared calm, he probably wasn’t.

I sure wouldn’t be; I’d be aching to take a swing.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Castillo heard his shame and pushed on. “I wanted her to break it off with you, and I was willing to do just about anything to speed that along. So I told her, and now she’s dead, and that wasn’t supposed to happen.” Castillo closed his eyes. Had to steel himself before he could look Halak in the eye again. “There was a time when I wanted you dead, Commander. I didn’t care how—a shuttle accident, a transporter failure. Anything. So when everyone blamed you for Ani’s death, I did, too. I was happy to. And when they took you away, part of me was glad because I wanted revenge, and part of me was ashamed that I was glad because the only revenge I ended up taking was on myself, really. And on Ani: She was a victim, too. I know now that I was wrong, not just because of everything that’s happened since but because I spent a lot of time thinking about how I’d let my jealousy turn me into the type of man who didn’t deserve the love of a woman like Ani.”