Batra had gone very pale. “I’m not sure I have a choice. I guess if Halak trusts you, I have to.”

“Fair enough. The reality is that even if Qadir isn’t looking for Samir, the Orion Syndicate would be just as happy to get their hands on him.” Arava had turned a grim smile on Halak. “You’re more valuable than you know. A lot of information in that brain of yours.”

“What about you?” Halak said. He’d given up hope of having her leave with them. Halak comforted himself with the reality that she’d stayed alive and moved up the ranks in Qadir’s organization for years now.

“When I’m ready, you’ll know,” she’d said. “There’ll be plenty of noise, and you can bet that everyone in the damn quadrant will hear it.”

Now, dead ahead, Halak saw the city’s perimeter beacons winking. In a few more moments, they would be out of the city proper, and that much closer to getting off the planet. Everything had gone according to plan. The Bolian had gotten them off without a hitch; they weren’t being followed; and in a few seconds, they’d be beyond the precincts of the city proper. But Halak just couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d missed something.

But what was it? Halak worried the feeling like a dog nosing an old bone. Halak had glanced at the Bolian’s onboard systems and seen that the proximity alarm was on. So no one could sneak up on them from behind, and they weren’t being followed.

The Bolian said, “Something on your mind?”

“What?” Halak realized then that he was practically breathing down the Bolian’s neck. “No,” he said, watching as the Bolian keyed in the aircar’s transponder to signal to the perimeter automated sentries that their aircar was leaving the city’s immediate vicinity. “Uh, how much longer?”

“About another twenty minutes.” The Bolian’s blue eyes flicked to Halak and then back to his instruments. “Sit back, will you? You’re making me nervous.”

“Sure,” said Halak. The aircar’s onboard computer pinged with a recognition signal and he listened as the city computer noted the date and time. “You’ve been where we’re going?”

“Once or twice. It’s a valley along the far western flank of the range. There’s nothing out there but a bunch of rocks, okay? No way anyone can sneak up on us either. The valley’s too well hidden. So relax. Arava told me to take care of you, and I’ll take care of you.”

“Right. Sorry.” Watching the black landscape skimming below, Halak sighed. A muscle complained along his right side, and he shifted, wincing. Other than getting himself knifed, he wasn’t sure exactly what he’d accomplished.

Or lost. His eyes slid to Batra who sat on his right. The Bolian had left the interior lights off in the aircar, and the only light came from the green and yellow glow of instruments and sensors in the front. So Batra was a shadow, like an old daguerreotype: all dark profile, though he caught the glint of reflected light in her eyes. He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t. There was no soundproof barrier between them and the Bolian, so he wasn’t free to talk. Halak chewed the inside of his cheek. He wasn’t sure what he could say—or reveal—anyway.

No one must know.Turning aside, Halak rested his forehead upon the cool glass of the aircar’s passenger window and closed his eyes. Lies layered upon other lies, and no way to see his way clear. And now there was Batra, who’d seen and heard too much already. He’d have to think of something he could tell her.

Unless it was already too late for that. Halak’s stomach churned with anxiety. Batra had said nothing after they’d left Arava. There had been no time for talk, no privacy for it either. A blessing, and a curse: He had time to think out what he wanted, or thought it safe to tell her. But, with every passing moment, he felt her edging further away, the unspoken breach between them widening. But, if he told her everything, he’d lose her. Halak had no illusions about that. And if he didn’t, he’d likely lose her anyway. He had to worry about what might get her killed, too.

Arava was right. Starfleet was a buffer, but not even Starfleet could, or would, protect either of them forever.

He leaned forward. “What about patrols?”

The Bolian didn’t look around. The glow from the instruments made his blue skin look yellow. “None from the city out this far,” said the Bolian, as a single soft ping sounded as the aircar chimed the quarter-hour. “The shuttle’s computer has a preprogrammed flight path input that will take you out of Farius Prime’s space and keep you well away from regularly scheduled transport corridors. The shuttle’s transponder signal registers as Vulcan. Plenty of Vulcan merchant ships in and out of here all the time.”

“Oh?” Somehow the image of Vulcans running illegal arms or drugs didn’t square with Halak.

“There are plenty of legit Vulcans doing business here. Anyway, Arava thought it was better that the ship show as Vulcan. You’re less likely to be shot at, for one.”

“That’s comforting. What about communications?”

“Keep your channels closed until you’re a good parsec out of Farius Prime’s space. Then you can use communications. Not before: There’s a Syndicate listening post on the second moon, and the Qatala maintains a perimeter relay system. More than likely, they won’t be interested in you, but I wouldn’t take any chances.” The Bolian paused. “Any idea where you’re headed?”

Halak hesitated. There was something about what the Bolian had just said that bothered him. Or maybe it was something the Bolian had done. Something about a heading…The feeling he’d had earlier—that there was something not quite right—bubbled to the surface of his mind. But he still didn’t know….

As for where they were going, his next move depended on Batra. But he had no illusions: They weren’t going to Betazed. More than likely, Batra wouldn’t want to have anything more to do with him. But they’d still have to get in touch with Enterprise.(He’d think of some way to explain how they came to have a Vulcan shuttle later.)

None of this was the Bolian’s concern, so Halak said, in an offhand way, “Not yet. Betazed, maybe.”

“Mmm.” The Bolian’s fingers crawled over the altitude controls and Halak felt the pit of his stomach drop as the Bolian decelerated. He watched over the Bolian’s shoulder as the aircar’s sensors detailed the cleft of a narrow valley, and then the shuttle itself.

He saw immediately that the Bolian had been right. The valley was isolated, and there were no passes or trails. Halak saw that the valley was really a couloir, surrounded by eskers and moraines—rocks and boulders pushed into piles by a glacier as it had advanced and then retreated. Plenty of cover for anyone wanting to ambush them, but the sensors showed all clear.

“Any way someone could mask a signature?” he asked the Bolian. “Hide their ship, maybe? How about the magnetic fields around these mountains?”

“Magnetic fields are there; they almost always are, even around these extinct volcanoes. But if you’re talking a cloak, I doubt it.”

“Mmmm.” Halak didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. But he wanted to be sure. He’d had enough surprises for one day. “Scan for life signs, would you?”

“Did that already. Not a living breathing soul around for fifty kilometers. That is, unless you count the Katangan mountain lions and a couple herds of caprinated rams.”

“Great. So do it again,” said Halak.

“Whatever you say.” The Bolian hiked his shoulders and activated the aircar’s sensors.

One glance confirmed that the Bolian was correct: no one else there. The Bolian swung his head around. “Okay?”

“Just about. Don’t land right away. I want to do a flyby, go north about two kilometers,” Halak tapped the sensor grid, “to that talus out there, and then circle back from the east.”

“What for? You just saw. The sensors…”

“I know what I saw. Humor me, okay? When you come back around, I want you to angle the aircar so I get a good look at the shuttle.”