“Good night, Shar,” she said, unable to talk about any of this anymore right now.

“Good night,” he said, and she was grateful that he did not choose to pursue the conversation further.

She had been seventeen when her mother had died, and she had been devastated. They had been not just mother and daughter, but the best of friends. Prynn remembered so vividly when Vaughn had told her…the horrible words, the look of pain and guilt on his face, and her tears, flowing as though they would never stop…

How could it have been the right decision?she asked herself. If her father had to give the order again, would he? Prynn had never asked him that, had never thought to ask him. And seven years ago, there had not been an opportunity to ask such a question anyway. Mom had died, and her father…her father had been there with her for a while, but she had never been able to approach him; the enormity of his guilt and the depth of her anger had been obstacles too great to overcome. After he had told her, they had never really spoken of it again, other than her blaming him, and him saying how sorry he was. He had abandoned her—

Abandoned?

Once more, Prynn saw in her mind the figure of Vaughn walking away from the camp. For a day and a half now, the image had refused to leave her. Do I hate him because he was responsible for Mom’s death,she asked herself, or because he wasn’t really there to help me through that terrible time?Although it was not a question that she had ever asked before, she’d been sure of the answer to it for the past seven years. Until today. Until right now.

Prynn wondered if her father knew the answer, and she resolved to ask him—to talkto him—about it.

If I ever see him again.

A tremendous sense of sadness and loss engulfed her. And as she fell asleep, all Prynn could think about was how much she missed her father.

54

Kasidy strolled down one of the cobbled lanes that led from the local transporter facility. The night had remained as balmy as the afternoon, an agreeable change from the first few days of the winter. Only a week ago, she had been peering out the front windows on a landscape frosted white by snow. And according to the Bajoran comnet, the weather forecasters were predicting another winter storm just a couple of days from now. All of which had helped her choose to take this opportunity to get out of the house, enjoy a change of scenery, and take in some fresh air.

Yellowish flickers of light danced along the cobblestones, thrown by the traditional oil lamps hanging from poles along the lane. Kasidy ambled along, not rushing despite the lateness of the hour. She knew that the shops would be closing shortly, but hurrying would have defeated her desire for a relaxing walk. She would stop in whichever of the shops she could, and then come back some other time to see the rest.

Except that’s not really the whole story, is it, Kas?she asked herself. She had been thinking about coming into town for a week now, ever since Prylar Eivos had called on her. The warmth of the man, his amiable demeanor and genuine thoughtfulness, the ease and humility of his faith, all had reminded her of how Ben had always spoken of the Bajorans. Working with the Commerce Ministry here, before she had become the wife of the Emissary, she had certainly met some nice people, but few who had inspired her to view Bajorans in quite the way Ben had. But, already determined to see out her pregnancy here because that had been what she and Ben had planned, she had now resolved to try to see in these people all that he had seen. Even so, she understood that she had not chosen to visit Adarak at this time of night by accident. Despite her optimism after seeing Eivos, she still had difficulty dealing with her prominence among the Bajoran people.

As Kasidy neared the main avenue of shops, she felt herself tensing. She had already been recognized during the few minutes she had been in town, and she worried that, even this late in the day, she would be faced with the misplaced veneration of strangers. Back at the transporter facility, the young man operating the pad had stared wide-eyed at her as she had stepped down from the platform. The attention and awe had made her uncomfortable, although she had to admit that the young man had recovered quickly. He had welcomed her to Adarak, and then offered to direct her to her destination or answer any questions she might have. She had thanked him, but declined his assistance. She had been to the town before—though not since she had first moved to Bajor—and she knew where she wanted to go.

Kasidy reached the avenue, which intersected the lane at a right angle. She stopped and peered both ways down the wide pedestrian thoroughfare. The old-fashioned oil lamps lined both sides of the way here too, and large trees marched down the center. The yellow lamplight wavered across the leaves, making them appear to move, as though blown by a breeze. At random, Kasidy opted to turn to her left.

The first couple of shops she passed had already closed for the night, though their storefronts remained lighted. Kasidy only glanced at the wares displayed as she walked by, thinking that she would window-shop on her way back. The next shop was open, though, and she stopped to look inside. A pair of paintings stood on easels at either end of the front window, with several interesting bronzes and other sculptures on pedestals between them.

As she gazed at the artwork, the door of the shop opened. A tall Bajoran man emerged carrying a bag in his arms, probably containing something he had just purchased. While the man held the door open for a woman following him out, he looked over and saw Kasidy. “Pleasant evening,” he said with a smile. To her surprise, she saw no hint that he knew her identity.

Not quite as renowned as you thought,she joked to herself. “A pleasant evening to you,” she said to the man. His companion, also a Bajoran, stepped past him and out of the shop. The woman nodded and smiled at Kasidy, then did a rapid double take, obviously recognizing her.

“Excuse me,” the woman murmured, quickly looking away, apparently abashed by her own reaction. The woman linked her arm with the man’s and guided him down the avenue.

Now, that’s more like it,Kasidy thought, chuckling. She entered the shop, still amazed that she could cause such a response in people, but not feeling quite as tense now as she had just a few minutes ago. After all, the woman had been embarrassed at her blatantly visible recognition of the wife of the Emissary. After Kasidy’s experiences with so many well-meaning Bajorans appearing on her doorstep when she had first moved to Kendra Province, perhaps the locals had decided not only to protect her from such attention, but to make sure that they did nothing themselves to discomfit her.

Inside the well-lighted shop, paintings lined the walls, and sculptures sat displayed atop narrow tables in the middle of the room. “Now, you’re out late, dearie, aren’tcha?” came a loud, friendly voice. Kasidy looked around and saw a Bajoran woman, older and a bit stocky, waving to her from the rear of the shop.

“It’s a nice night for it, isn’t it?” Kasidy said. She walked over to the first table, on which stood two bronzes. Both were tall, each about half a meter high.

“That it is, dearie, that it is,” the woman agreed. “It’s gonna be a cold winter, so I’ll enjoy as many of these days as we can get.”

“Me too,” Kasidy said, tickled by the woman’s gregarious nature. “Is this your gallery?”