Beaming, the clone slammed his fist into Rajuc's shoulder. "That's the spirit," he hissed. "Give ground to no one."

"I never have," the headmaster informed him, warming to the subject. "Especially not to the rumor-mongers who would have us believe Kahless was a fraud. I a.s.sure you, Emperor, I place no credence at all in the scroll they claim to have found. As far as I am concerned, the stories we learned as children contain the truth of the matter."

Kahless looked as if someone had rammed him in the stomach with the business end of a painstik. "Indeed," he said tightly. "I am grateful for your loyalty, son of Inagh."

No doubt true, thought Picard. However, the clone didn't seem to like being reminded of the scroll-not in any context. It was quite simply a sore subject with him.

"You will be interested to know," Rajuc continued, "that our eldest students plan to reenact Kahless's departure for Sto-Vo-Kor in two days" time." For the sake of protocol, he included Worf and Picard in his glance.

"Perhaps you can stay long enough to see it."

"I am afraid not," Kahless replied. "As much as I enjoy such dramas, we have business elsewhere which cannot wait." He turned his attention to Kurn. "Which is what we came to speak with you about, Lord Governor."

Worf's brother inclined his s.h.a.ggy head. "Of course, Emperor." He gestured to a remote cul-de-sac in the garden, obscured by tall, oblong boulders on three sides.

"I believe you will find that spot over there to your liking." Placing his hand on Rajuc's shoulder, he added: "I will see you shortly, Headmaster. There is still much we need to discuss."

Rajuc inclined his head again-first to Kurn, then to Kahless, and finally to Worf and Picard. Then he departed.

"He does good work here?" asked the clone.

Kurn nodded. "Fine work. He turns out warriors of the highest caliber."

"Good," Kahless remarked.

Then, taking Kurn's arm, he led him toward the cul-desac. Nor did he wait until they reached it and took their seats to tell the governor why they had come. He began as soon as they were out of the headmaster's earshot.

As Picard watched, Worf's brother listened to Kahless's suspicions. It took a while, but Kurn didn't comment until he was certain the emperor had told him all he wished to tell.

"These are grave accusations," he said at last. "Had they come from someone else, I would have dismissed them out of hand. But from emperor Kahless, the Arbiter of Succession, and my own brother ..." Kurn scowled.

"I will conduct an investigation through my contacts in the Defense Force. Then we will speak of a next step, if one is required of us."

Kahless nodded. "Thank you, son of Mogh. Worf told me you would not fail us."

Kurn flashed a smile at his brother. "Yes, he would say that." With that, he rose. "Unfortunately, I must complete my review of the Academy. But if you can linger a while, we'll eat together. I know of a feasting hall in town where the heart of targ is worth dying for."

"Done," replied Kahless, obviously cheered by the prospect. "We'll meet back here just before dusk."

"Before dusk," Kurn agreed. He acknowledged Picard, then Worf. "I will see you later, Brother."

"Yes, later," the lieutenant repeated.

He watched his brother leave them with a vaguely uncomfortable expression on his face-one which didn't escape the captain's notice. What's more, Picard thought he knew the reason for it.

"He was holding something back," he said to Worf.

"Wasn't he?"

The lieutenant was still watching his brother withdraw.

"Or covering something up," he confirmed, with obvious reluctance. "But what?"

Kahless looked at them. "What are you saying?" he asked.

Worf drew a deep breath, then let it out. "I am saying," he explained, "that my brother lied to us when he said he would help. There is something preventing him from doing so-though I cannot imagine what it would be."

The clone eyed him. "You're sure of this?"

The lieutenant nodded. "Regretfully, I am sure of it.

And I intend to confront him with it when the opportunity presents itself."

"Dinner would be such an opportunity," the captain suggested.

Kahless made a sound of disgust. "Why wait for dinner? Let us pin him down now, while his lie is still fresh on his lips. Who knows? Maybe he's part of the d.a.m.ned conspiracy."

Worf grabbed him by his arm. Instinctively, Kahless spun around, ready for anything.

"My brother is not a traitor," the lieutenant snarled.

The emperor's eyes narrowed. "Then let him prove it."

And without waiting to see if his companions would follow, the clone took off after Kurn with that swaggering, ground-eating pace by which he'd become known.

Worf made a noise deep in his throat and followed.

Picard did his best to keep up, though it wasn't easy.

Klingons were d.a.m.ned quick when they wanted to be.

But just as Kahless caught up with his prey, Kurn was swarmed by a group of young admirers-warriors-intraining, wearing the black-and-crimson colors of their academy. The governor had barely expressed his surpr' ise before he was a.s.sailed with questions-mostly about his encounters with the Romulans following Gowron's succession.

Kurn would likely have answered them, too, had Kahless not shooed the youngsters away like a gaggle of young geese. When the emperor wanted something, he tolerated no delays.

Worf's brother looked at Kahless, no doubt trying to conceal his displeasure at the students' dismissal-but falling short. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

Worf answered for the emperor. "You know there is, Brother. You lied to us when you said you would investigate Kahless's concerns. And I want to know why."

"Yes," the clone added. "Unless you're a conspirator yourself. Then you may want to go on lying."

Kurn bared his teeth. For a moment, he glared at Kahless and then Worf, apparently liking his brother's challenge even less than the emperor's audacity. Then his temper seemed to cool.

"All right," he said. "I was deceiving you. But I had the best of intentions. And I am not a conspirator."

"There is a Terran expression," Picard remarked, about the road to h.e.l.l being paved with good intentions.

I'd like to hear more before I decide to exonerate you."

Kurn's nostrils flared. Obviously, this was information he wasn't eager to part with. He looked around and made certain they were alone before continuing.

"Very well," the governor growled. "But this must not become common knowledge, or I'll truly have become a traitor."

Worf thrust his chin out. "You know none of us will repeat anything you tell us."

Kurn thought for a moment, then nodded. "I believe you're right." He heaved a sigh before he began. "The reason I wished to dissuade you from investigating the Defense Force is simple. Close scrutiny of its activities would have revealed a significant number of concurrent absences on the parts of two particular officers-a male and a female, each one with a mate outside the Defense Force."

Picard grunted. The Klingon family was held together by almost feudal bonds. Such philandering was a violation of those bonds-at least, on the part of the male Klingon involved.

The female's situation was different. She could have initiated a divorce anytime she wanted-though she apparently had her reasons for not doing so.

Kurn turned to Picard. "This is not a thing to be taken lightly," he explained, just in case the captain didn't understand. "The response of the cuckolded husband, in this case, must be to seek revengeas if a challenge had been made. Worse, the cuckolded wife in this situation may have her husband slowly drawn and quartered by four powerful burden beasts-while his lover is forced to watch."

"And yet," said Picard, "they risked this. And despite the fact that your society frowns on it, you yourself condone it."

Kurn scowled at the remark. "You must understand, Captain. These philanderers are members of prominent Houses, which have long been allies of Gowron. If their affair became public, it would drive a wedge between their families and severely erode Gowron's power base."

Kahless snorted. "So these liaisons must be kept secret?"

"Exactly," said Kurn. He turned to his brother. "Of course, if you and your companions had proof of your claims, that would be a different story. But until you do, I cannot help you."

Picard looked to his lieutenant, but Worf said nothing.

Apparently, he accepted Kurn's answer as sufficient.

Morality aside, the captain wasn't sure he disagreed, given the importance of Gowron's survival as Council Leader.

This time, Kurn didn't bother with niceties. He merely turned his back on them and resumed his progress toward the academy's main hall.

In other words, Picard thought, they had gained nothing at all. Frowning, he watched Worf's brother disappear into the building-and with him, their best hope.

Kahless looked to Worf, then Picard. "What now?" he asked. "Who else can we turn to, if not Kurn?"

The words were barely out of his mouth when an explosion ripped through the academy building like a fiery predator, shattering the peacefulness of the grounds and sending debris flying in every direction.

Worf's eyes flashed with anger and fear. "Kurn!" he wailed-and went running toward the site of the explo IL sion, where flames were already starting to lick at the ruined masonry.

A moment later, the captain and Kahless took off after him. Picard could hear shouts of fury arising from the building. Also, cries of agony. Unfortunately, all of them were the voices of children.

Before they could reach the building, a door burst open and a gang of students came rushing out, carrying an adult-Rajuc. The captain winced at the sight of the headmaster. The man was half-covered with blood and his arm hung limply at his side, but at least he was still alive.

Brushing past the students and their burden, Picard followed Worf into the edifice itself-or what was left of it. A ruined corridor stretched out in either direction, choked with rubble.

At one end of it, the captain could see a gaping hole in the ceiling, where daylight tried to lance its way through a curtain of rising smoke and flames. As he approached it, following Worf's lead, he caught a glimpse of the carnage behind the curtain.

A lanky figure was hauling smaller ones away from the blaze. He raised his head at their approach, his face smeared with soot and taut with urgency.

It was Kurn.

"There are more of them back there!" he bellowed over the roar of the fire and the screams of the injured. "Some may still be alive!"

But it was clear that some were not. The bodies of dead students littered the hallway, having come to rest wherever the explosion cast them. Their postures were painfully grotesque.

Picard wanted to rearrange them, to give them some measure of dignity in death. But there was no time. His priority had to be the survivors.

For what seemed like an eternity, the captain pulled out child after child from the burning building. Some were conscious, some were not. Some were badly wounded, others only dazed.

There were still others to be saved-no one knew how many. But just as Picard was running back inside for another survivor, an even bigger explosion wracked the building.

He was deafened by it, thrown off his feet as the floor beneath him shivered with the impact. He found himself pressed against a slab of stone, the skin of his cheek sc.r.a.ped and b.l.o.o.d.y.

As the captain rose and regained his bearings, he saw a huge ball of fire blossom into the sky. In its wake, all was silent. There were no screams from within, no sound of life at all. And by that, he knew there was nothing more they could do in this place.

But if he stayed, the fire would consume him. So Picard dragged himself outside, where the surviving students had been arrayed on the short, red enchula gra.s.s.

That's when he saw Worf heading toward him, the Klingon's countenance full of horror and rage. The captain waved his officer back.

"There's no one left in there," he shouted, striving to be heard over the groans of the wounded. "If they weren't dead before, they're dead now."

But Worf didn't stop. Wild-eyed, he kept on going, aiming for the burning pile of rubble that was all that remained of the academy.

"Lieutenant!" Picard cried. "Worfl"

His officer didn't heed him. Instead, as if bent on suicide, he plunged into the maze of flames.

The captain started after him, but he felt himself grabbed from behind. Whirling, he saw it was Kahless who had grabbed him, and k.u.m wasn't far behind.

"Let me go!" Picard shouted. "It's Worfl He's gone back into that inferno!"

"Then he's dead!" the clone roared back at him. "You cannot throw your life after his!"

k.u.m didn't say a thing. He just stared at the blazing ruin. But by the look in his eyes, the captain could see Worf's brother had given up hope as well.

Cursing beneath his breath, Picard tried to pull away from Kahless. But the clone was too strong, and the human was too drained from his rescue efforts. In time, the captain ceased his struggles and gazed narrow-eyed at the academy building.

He could feel the heat of the conflagration on his face.

Even here, it made the skin tighten across his face.

By then, Picard told himself, Worf had to have peris hed. No one could have survived. He didn't want to believe it, but he couldn't see any way around it.

Suddenly, against all common sense, the captain caught sight of something moving in the debris. Something that made a path for itself between the flames.

Something that staggered out through a gap in what had once been a wall.

It was Worf His face was blackened with soot, his clothing full of smoke and red-hot embers. And somehow, against all odds, he had not one but two young Klingons slung over his shoulders.

Rushing to him, the captain helped relieve Worf of his burden. With Kurn's help, he lowered one of the students to the ground. Though badly burned and bleeding from half a dozen places, the child was still breathing. He had a chance to live.