“It is,” Eivos said. “It is a gift for a very specific purpose.”

Kasidy moved to put her teacup down so that she could open the package, and Eivos graciously took the cup from her. She pulled one end of the ribbon, and it came free. She dropped the ribbon in her lap and unfolded the paper. Inside lay an exquisite crystalline figurine made of an amber-colored stone…a Bajoran, she saw, just able to make out the ridges at the top of the miniature’s nose. The neck, though, sloped out toward the shoulders, like a Cardassian’s. How odd.As she raised the artifact to her eyes to look at it more closely, it caught the reflection of the fire and burned with an inner, golden light. And the eyes, she saw, seemed almost to gleam with a light of their own. “This is beautiful,” she said.

“I’m glad you think so,” Eivos said, sitting back down.

“What is it made of?” Kasidy wanted to know.

“A material called jevonite. The piece was discovered at B’hala, and we—”

“B’hala?” Kasidy asked.

“Yes,” Eivos said. She could see that he detected her uneasiness. “Actually, that’s one of the reasons I brought it. I originally was going to ask the Bajoran Archeological Authority and the Vedek Assembly if we might make a gift of the figurine to Jake, as a token of the work he did himself at B’hala, but primarily as a keepsake of his father.” The generosity of spirit embodied by such a gift touched Kasidy, and she knew it would have touched Jake. “But with Jake still missing,” Eivos continued, “and knowing how close the two of you are…well, I just thought this might be a nice keepsake of Jake for you.”

Kasidy gazed down at the figurine. “I…I’m…” she stammered, unsure how to express her gratitude, unsure how to convey how much Eivos’s kind gesture stirred her. She wished that it had not been found at B’hala, but—

“This piece was one of the last things I discussed with Jake when he was working at the site,” Eivos said.

Kasidy looked over at the prylar. “Thank you,” she said. “This means a great deal to me.”

“I’m so glad,” Eivos said, and she could hear the joy in his voice at having given her something like this.

“Prylar, I have to tell you, you’re the only member of the Bajoran religious order who doesn’t make me feel uncomfortable.”

“How kind of you to say,” Eivos told her. “I certainly understand, though. With the unrest these days in the Vedek Assembly, I sometimes find it difficult myself not to feel ill at ease among my peers.”

“Unrest?” Kasidy asked. She picked up the paper the figurine had come wrapped in, along with the ribbon, and dropped them on the floor beside her chair. She held the figurine in one hand in her lap.

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” Eivos said. He leaned over from his chair and offered Kasidy her cup of tea back. She took it from him with a smile. “When the translation of the ancient—and some believe apocryphal—Ohalu text was posted to the Bajoran communications net, it initiated a major division within the Assembly.” Kasidy knew that Kira had been the one who had posted the translation to the comnet, an act for which she had been Attainted by the vedeks.

“How bad is it?” Kasidy asked, concerned that the greater the impact of Kira’s act, the less likely it would be for her Attainder to be withdrawn.

Eivos sighed heavily. “It’s not good, I’m afraid. The divide seems to grow wider each day. It is very disturbing. I’m worried that the very unity of the Bajoran religion may be at risk.” He sounded troubled, and Kasidy understood why. While political differences had always existed within the Bajorans’ government—particularly in the first days of the provisional government that had been established after the end of the Occupation—their religion had stood as very nearly a monolithic source of harmony for them for a long time, even throughthe Occupation. There had always been issues regarding who would be the next kai, or what actions the Vedek Assembly should take in various situations, but overall the Bajoran religion had remained united. There was the Pah-wraith cult, of course, but that had never threatened overall religious accord. A true schism within the faith could, Kasidy suspected, bring tremendous turmoil to Bajor.

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” she said. “Is there anything you can do to address the situation?”

“I do what I can,” Eivos said. He sat quietly for a moment, his expression one of pained contemplation. Then he shrugged and seemed to throw off his worries; Kasidy suspected that he simply did not wish to burden her with his troubles. “Who knows?” he said. “Maybe we’ll find another text at B’hala that will repair the damage caused by the first one.”

“Maybe,” Kasidy said, but although the Bajoran religion had certainly been full of surprises in the last few years, she somehow doubted that Eivos or anybody else would find anything in the ruins to offset what had happened—what was continuing to happen—in the Vedek Assembly. That would have to be accomplished by the vedeks themselves, and after what that august body had done to Kira, Kasidy had no confidence that they would be able to find a solution. Following Eivos’s lead to change the subject, though, Kasidy said, “You were telling me about possible plans to excavate in the northwest area of B’hala.”

“Yes,” he said, and he immediately launched back into a discussion of the archeological site. Kasidy listened, smiling and nodding as appropriate, but her mind drifted to Deep Space 9. Later, once Prylar Eivos had left, she would contact Kira on the station to make sure that she knew what was happening on Bajor.

19

Beneath a clear daylight sky and a high moon, Vaughn stood at the top of the low mortar-and-stone tower and looked out over the city. Modern buildings flowed in circles away from his location, the metal and glass of their construction tinted in delicate shades that coalesced into a magnificent tapestry of color. Numerous greenswards sat interspersed throughout, perfectly placed as natural counterpoints to the artificial hues all around. Busy pedestrian thoroughfares roamed between the buildings, both the spokes and the rims of the concentric wheels in which the stunning metropolis had been laid out.

Even as Vaughn appreciated the breathtaking beauty of the city, though, he found the dull, formless quality of the sounds that rose from it disturbing. The brown noise of movement and machinery reached him, an almost random agglomeration of acoustic elements that seemed as empty as the bountiful colors here seemed full. Conspicuously absent were the sounds of voices, music, and anything utilized as an aural communication or signal.

And still, the city was a masterwork. Walking through it during the past few days had been like walking through a painting. The colors and contours of the buildings impressed the eye in the same way that art did, as though the perfect shade or shape had been chosen at every point. The buildings, though no taller than one or two stories, gave the suggestion of slender height. Flowers and foliage accented both structures and streets, and public meeting places stood set off from the flow of pedestrian traffic by statuary and sculpture. Belowground, a complex transportation grid, using capsules about the size of a Starfleet shuttle, allowed individuals easy, fast access to both local and distant points.

Vaughn turned and offered his admiration of the vista—“Your world is truly beautiful”—then lowered his chin and peered down at the optic net spread across the chest of his uniform. A wave of hues and forms splashed across the fine mesh, a translation of his words into the visual language of the Vahni Vahltupali.