Over the past two and a half days, Kira had met with Ro several times in order to discuss security for the summit. In Kira’s opinion, Ro had done an exceptional job of both planning and implementing the new procedures and mechanisms. Even simply coming out to the docking port just now, Kira had been impressed not only by the execution of the new protocols, but by their unobtrusiveness. Ro had posted security officers throughout the station at critical locations, of course, but she had also devised a means of keeping them at a distance from the delegations. Lieutenant Alfonzo, Kira knew, had just now collected the individual sensor signatures of the ambassador and his aide. As the two men moved throughout this section of the docking ring, their assigned section of the habitat ring, and the crossover bridge between, force fields would raise and lower along their paths, both before and after them, far enough away to occur without being noticed, but close enough to provide a genuine measure of protection. The same would be done for every member of the two Federation delegations and the Bajoran delegation. It was, Kira thought, an ingenious solution.

“We also haven’t announced the summit to anybody on the station beyond the necessary personnel,” Kira concluded, “and First Minister Shakaar has not made a public announcement of it yet on Bajor, so few people are even aware that it will be taking place.”

“I appreciate your diligent efforts to ensure our safety,” Gandres said. “Actually, before taking a tour of the station or settling into our quarters, there is somebody aboard I would like to meet.” Kira had been expecting this. “We…that is, the Federation Council…understand that a Jem’Hadar soldier is now living aboard Deep Space 9.”

“That’s true,” Kira said, “although we don’t think of Taran’atar as a soldier.” She took care to respond in a manner that would signal her intent not to contradict the ambassador, but simply to provide him with information.

“Is he a diplomat then?” Gard asked.

“More a student studying abroad,” Kira found herself saying. “He was sent here by Odo to observe and try to understand life in the Alpha Quadrant,” she went on, “and he’s been doing that.” She was pleased now that she had asked him not to shroud on the station.

“I understand,” Gandres said.

Kira moved to her left and touched a companel set into the bulkhead there. The panel sprang to life with an electronic tone, a Cardassian “shatterframe” display appearing on it. “Computer,” she said, “locate Taran’atar.”

“Taran’atar is in ops,”the computer replied. Kira lowered her hand, and the panel winked off.

“Ambassador, I’d like to accompany you to ops,” Gard said. “I can verify the security arrangements for our quarters later.”

Gandres listened to his aide, then said to Kira, “If you have no objection, Colonel.”

“Right this way,” Kira said, motioning toward the doors of the nearest turbolift, across from the airlock and a few paces down the corridor. Gandres and Gard turned in that direction, but before they reached the lift, the doors opened. Admiral Akaar appeared, his huge form expanding out of the car as though he had been stuffed within its confines.

“Colonel,” the admiral said, looking at her before turning his attention to Gandres. “Ambassador,” he said, bringing a closed fist up to his chest, and then opening it before him. “I welcome you with an open heart and hand.” To Kira’s surprise, Gandres returned the gesture.

“L.J.,” the ambassador said, “how are you?”

“I’m well,” Akaar said. “Colonel Kira has been most hospitable.” Although she kept her expression neutral, Kira was shocked by the statement; as far as she was concerned, her relationship with the admiral had been nothing but adversarial. He need not have told the ambassador that, of course, but then, he need not have said anything at all. “And how are you?”

“I’m doing well,” Gandres said. Then, turning, he introduced Gard. “One of my aides, Hiziki Gard. This is Fleet Admiral Akaar.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Gard said, and he held out an open hand to the admiral. Kira felt both paralyzed and fascinated, unable to move or say anything as she watched the aide make the same mistake she had. Akaar seemed to appraise Gard for a moment, then reached out and took his hand. A phaser blast could not have stunned Kira more. She looked at the hands of the two men as they came together, Gard’s engulfed within Akaar’s, but the two held their stance solidly for a few seconds before letting go. Kira realized that she did not understand the admiral at all.

“Seljin,” Akaar said, looking back at the ambassador, “I’d like some of your time today. There are some issues I wish to discuss before tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Gandres said. “We can talk right now. Is there somewhere we can go?”

“How about back aboard your vessel?” the admiral asked. At first, Kira thought that Akaar was again trying to gain control of a meeting, but then she realized that, while he had taken her aboard Mjolnir,a setting with which he had been familiar, in this case, he was consenting to a setting with which he was not familiar.

“I would recommend meeting aboard our ship as well,” Gard offered. “At least until I can verify the security precautions on the station.”

Gandres acknowledged Gard with a nod, then turned to Kira. “Thank you for welcoming us to Deep Space 9, Colonel,” he said. “I’ll be in touch with you later.”

“You’re welcome, Ambassador,” she said. Gandres and Akaar disappeared into the airlock, and Kira pointed to Alfonzo. The lieutenant operated the airlock controls. The hatch rolled closed along its geared runway. “Have somebody relieve you here,” she told Alfonzo, “and then escort Mr. Gard to the quarters for the Trill delegation.”

“Aye, sir,” Alfonzo said.

“Thank you, Colonel,” Gard said.

Kira nodded, then turned and strode down the corridor, headed for her office. She started to attempt to decipher Akaar’s behavior, but found herself at a loss to do so. She thought she understood him now less than she had before.

Forget it,she told herself. There were more important things that she needed to focus on right now. She did not know how long the summit would last, but she suspected that the next few weeks aboard the station would prove very interesting.

41

Prynn heard her father cry out in pain. She watched him writhe on the ground, the gray sky reaching down and wrapping its wisps about his body, torturing him in some incomprehensible way. He thrashed about, his agony plain. Dull brown dirt kicked up and coated his uniform as he struggled to free himself from the violent and mysterious shadows.

She tried to move toward him and could not, tried to scream and found herself mute. Dad,she thought, an appellation she had not used for him in years. Desperation knotted her stomach. He could not leave again. She had to go to him, had to help him, even after all that had come between them. She fought to get to her knees, pushing herself up, pushing against—

—the bedroll.

Prynn opened her eyes on a desolate world, beneath a sky just beginning to pale from black to the distressed color of cinders. Dawn had come to this empty place, as much as it could. Or maybe this is dusk,she thought. Maybe that was all this world knew anymore.

Prynn had risen to her hands and knees on the bedroll, she saw, and she remembered battling to move in her dreams. She sat back on her haunches, the soft, metallic blanket sliding from her shoulders with a sound like sand slipping through her fingers. Whatever images and sounds, whatever thoughts and emotions, had populated her dreams seemed to drain away now as she sought to recall them. Her father…her father…