Rehaek shrugged and offered an explanation, though not an apology. "I am a busy man," he said. "Busy, of course, ensuring that neither the Romulan Star Empire nor its leader fall victim to their enemies." A delay of two days had been enough for Rehaek to demonstrate his independence, his nerve, and his strength, but not enough to justify Tal'Aura's finding a means of removing him from his position.

Tomalak seemed to appraise him, and then he peered over at Torath. For a moment, Rehaek thought that the proconsul would throw a venomous comment Torath's way, which would undoubtedly provoke the adjutant, but then he looked back at Rehaek. "The praetor would like an update on the death of the Reman," he said. "Have you made any progress on determining who killed him?"

"The Reman?" Rehaek said, feigning confusion.

"The one who Spock brought into the Via Colius security station," Tomalak said. "The one who was then killed inside the station."

"Ah, yes, of course," Rehaek said. "We do have some information on him, though as with most Remans, it is rather sketchy." Without turning, he gestured back toward his adjutant.

"His name was Angarraken," Torath said at once. "He was raised on Remus and worked in the mines. When the praetor made an accord with the Remans-" Torath did not hide his contempt for Tal'Aura's decision to appease the Remans, but fortunately neither she nor her proconsul responded to it. "-Angarraken was among those who settled here on Romulus. When they later relocated to Klorgat Four, he must have stayed behind."

"That is all very interesting," Tomalak said, "but it is not an answer to the question that the praetor put to you."

"But to get to that answer," Rehaek said, "we must follow the trail of that which is known, until it leads to that which is unknown."

"Of course you must," Tal'Aura said, finally deigning to speak. Tomalak stepped to the side, permitting Rehaek an unimpeded view of the praetor. She wore a simple, gray raiment. "And I appreciate your efforts, Chairman."

He bowed to her, pretending to show her the respect that would mollify her.

"But I must ask," she said, "do you have an answer to my question?" you have an answer to my question?"

"I do not," Rehaek lied. His people had identified the culprit with relative ease, but to this point, they lacked a motive. The chairman had his suspicions, though, and he hoped that the praetor would confirm them for him.

"That is disappointing," Tal'Aura said, "and somewhat surprising."

"Surprising?" Rehaek said. "Murder investigations frequently require a great deal of time and effort to resolve."

"Even with such a paucity of suspects?" Tal'Aura said. "Clearly one of the security officers who tried to take him into custody was to blame."

"I'm sorry, Praetor, but that's simply not the case," Rehaek told her. "Although one or more of the security personnel might have murdered the Reman, there is no definitive evidence to suggest just when the toxic patch was applied to his arm. For all we know, Spock could have placed it there prior to entering the security station. Or one of his collaborators. Or anyone else on Romulus, for that matter. And we have yet to conclusively rule out suicide."

Tal'Aura said nothing for a few seconds, and Rehaek wondered if she needed the time to choose which of her own lies to tell. Instead, she seemed to reveal a truth to him-or at least a partial truth. "I did not consider that," she said. "I just a.s.sumed that one of the security officers killed the Reman." She stood up, stepped down from her platform, and walked over to face Rehaek directly. Without looking at Tomalak, she gestured to him, and he moved away.

"I may be wrong about who killed the Reman," she went on, "but I believe that whoever did kill him, did so in order to silence him."

"About what?" Rehaek asked, though he thought he already knew.

"About the ident.i.ty of the person who employed him to kill Spock."

"If Spock was telling the truth about the attempt on his life," Rehaek said.

"The Vulcan is still in our custody," Tal'Aura said. "We have examined him, and he bears the evidence of recent traumatic injury and surgical repair. Nevertheless, he may be lying about the Reman trying to kill him, but it is unclear to what end he would do so."

"Perhaps to gain your trust," Rehaek suggested.

"Perhaps," Tal'Aura allowed, "but wouldn't telling me the truth provide a better, more likely means of doing that?"

Before he even knew he would, Rehaek laughed. "My apologies," he said quickly. "An enemy of the state, telling the truth to the praetor in order to gain her trust? It must be the environment in which I work, but that possibility had not even occurred to me."

To Rehaek's surprise, Tal'Aura actually smiled. "I can understand that," she said. She turned and walked back to the platform, mounting it to sit back down in her chair. "I want you to answer some questions, Chairman, not just for me, but for yourself and for the Tal Shiar."

Rehaek said nothing, but waited to hear what the praetor would ask of him.

"The obvious question is, who would benefit from the death of the Vulcan?" she said. "But I would ask a different question: who would suffer from his continuing to live?"

"That is a broad question," Rehaek said.

"Yes, it is. So let me narrow it down. If Spock lived and continued to champion the cause of reunifying Romulus and Vulcan, and if by virtue of the hardships being felt by people throughout the Empire, his movement gained traction, whom would it harm?"

Rehaek considered this for a moment. "I would argue that it would harm the Empire."

"Really?" she said. "Why, exactly? Do you truly believe that's Spock's movement can succeed? That it can drive a majority of the Romulan people, or even a significant minority, to seek a union with a Federation world?"

Rehaek didn't respond, because he didn't need to respond. Tal'Aura knew the answers to her questions.

"Isn't it possible that such a movement would more likely provoke the Romulan people to demand the uniting of our own empires our own empires? And isn't it possible that would spread to all all Romulan people, even outside the Star Empire?" Romulan people, even outside the Star Empire?"

Rehaek nodded. "Perhaps even probable."

"And if the Romulan people demanded such unity, whom would it harm?"

She had taken the long way around to get to it, but Tal'Aura finally arrived at her destination: "Donatra," Rehaek said.

"Donatra," Tal'Aura confirmed. "The Romulan people who have found themselves no longer a part of the Star Empire, but of Donatra's 'Imperial State,' will not look for Romulus to go to Achernar Prime," she said, naming the worlds that served as the seats of government for the respective empires. "They will look for what they have known for most of their lives. The Romulan Star Empire, Romulus, Ki Baratan, the Senate."

"And the praetor," Rehaek added.

"And the praetor," Tal'Aura said. "That is why I'm going to push the Continuing Committee to reverse the law criminalizing the Romulan-Vulcan Reunification Movement. If Donatra fears it, then we shall set it free."

"So you really think that Donatra employed the Reman to kill Spock," Rehaek said, "and when that failed, she had another agent remove her a.s.sa.s.sin."

"I think it's possible," Tal'Aura said.

"Then the Tal Shiar shall investigate, Praetor," Rehaek said.

"Then do not let me keep you from your work, Chairman."

Rehaek bowed again, then headed for the entry doors, Torath following along beside him. Halfway across the chamber, the praetor called to him. He stopped and turned back to see Tal'Aura descend once more from her platform. When she reached him, she said, "You and I have spoken before about the benefits of order within the Empire, Chairman."

"Yes."

"Neither the praetorship nor the Tal Shiar are served by disarray," Tal'Aura said. "It seems to me that publicly identifying a man who died in a Romulan Security station as a Reman might cause such disarray."

"Certainly the Remans would not like it," Rehaek said. "Nor would their Klingon protectors."

"Precisely," Tal'Aura said. "It is not as though the Klingons require much provocation to go into battle. And I think you'll agree with me that despite our new alliance with the Typhon Pact nations, it is not the time for war."

Rehaek agreed, and said so.

"Then go," Tal'Aura urged him. "Investigate."

Rehaek continued out the doors with Torath, thinking that the meeting had proven more productive than he'd expected. He would indeed have to investigate, not just the Reman and Donatra's connection to him, but the role he suspected Tal'Aura played in all of this. If he was right, Tal'Aura had found the way to bring the Romulan Star Empire back together, and once she'd done so, he had found the way to bring her down.

The transceiver, mute these many months, chirped to life.

It had been so long since she had heard from Romulus that she had taken to executing diagnostic tests on the device every day. She could not believe that the praetor had discarded her, not from any sense of friendship or loyalty, but because she had served Tal'Aura well-just as she had served praetors before her. She had not always succeeded, but she had done so far more often than not, her methods calculated, merciless, and effective. She had no doubts that in the long run, no other operative could best her abilities.

She crossed the small room, withdrew the transceiver from where she'd hidden it beneath the floor, then used a retina scan, palm print, and voice code to activate it. The device looked like nothing more than a data tablet, but then the face of Praetor Tal'Aura appeared on its small screen. The two recited sequences of verbal cues that verified their ident.i.ties, their privacy, and the fact that neither acted under duress. Once all of that had been established, Tal'Aura spoke the words she had waited so long to hear.

"I need you."

"I'm ready, Praetor," she said. "When do you need me, and where?"

"I need you now," Tal'Aura said. Tal'Aura said. "On Romulus." "On Romulus."

She resisted the urge to exclaim her relief. She had spent too much time on the frozen wasteland of Kevratas, a Romulan subject world far removed from the political environs of Ki Baratan. "I'll find my way off this rock within the hour," she said.

"Good. I'll contact you again in five days," Tal'Aura said. Tal'Aura said. "Be ready." "Be ready."

"Yes, Praetor."

The screen went blank, and she went immediately to the companel in her room. It took her less than ten minutes to book pa.s.sage, and only another forty before she beamed up to a transport ship in orbit. As she sat in the pa.s.senger section and peered out a port at the retreating orb of Kevratas, she allowed herself a small, satisfied smile.

At long last, Sela was heading home.

16.

As D'Tan spoke in the center of the stage, Spock sat off to the side and studied those gathered in the square. Most seemed young, though he observed people across a wide spectrum of ages. Some paid little attention, and some looked around continually, as though they expected Romulan Security to descend upon Relevek Plaza at any moment. A majority of those present, however, appeared genuinely interested in listening to the ideas being put forth. Although some probably stopped for the event as they happened by, Spock thought that most attended after reading the posting announcing it on the city's intranet.

Situated on the outskirts of Ki Baratan, Relevek Plaza provided a large open s.p.a.ce frequently used for street fairs, art shows, and farmers' markets. A pair of obelisks marked each of the two entrances to the north and south, standing on either side of the entry paths. The small concrete stage, occasionally used for amateur productions, occupied the western edge of the brick-lined s.p.a.ce, with several rows of flat benches arranged before it.

Spock estimated the crowd at approximately four hundred-not large in absolute terms, but under the circ.u.mstances, more sizable than he had antic.i.p.ated. Although Praetor Tal'Aura had followed through on her pledge to consider decriminalizing the Reunification Movement by actually pushing such a repeal through the Continuing Committee, many citizens remained skeptical that such views would be tolerated, least of all in public. Among Spock's own comrades, most suspected that the praetor wanted simply to lure as many supporters out into the open as possible; they expected Romulan Security at some point to conduct a ma.s.s arrest-or worse, a ma.s.s extermination.

Recalling his first days of involvement with the Movement, Spock remembered similar-and ultimately well-founded-concerns. Thirteen years earlier, he'd become aware of a growing number of Romulans interested in learning about the Vulcan way of life. When Senator Pardek invited him to Romulus to a.s.sist in taking the first steps toward reunification, Spock agreed. Pardek introduced him to the proconsul at the time, Neral, who claimed a receptiveness to discussing the Movement and its ideals. In reality, the two Romulans captured Spock's holographic image and attempted to use it to mask an invasion of Vulcan. Though in the end their plan failed, many of those still in the Movement from those days retained their distrust of the Romulan authorities.

D'Tan finished his short oration, an oddly emotive presentation extolling the virtues of Vulcan stoicism and logic. D'Tan spoke, as he often did, with the pa.s.sion of his youth. It did not trouble Spock, for Romulan society did not discourage the feeling or even the exhibition of emotion. The Reunification Movement, he believed, should welcome all kinds, and teach not just the worthy aspects of a Vulcan life but those of a Romulan life as well.

As D'Tan took a seat beside Spock, T'Lavent rose from her chair and moved to the center of the stage. A computer technician by trade, she had come to the Movement only recently. Older than D'Tan but just half Spock's age, she offered a different perspective on the benefits of reunifying Vulcan and Romulus.

Spock and the other leaders of the Ki Baratan cell-including Corthin, Dr. Shalvan, Dorlok, and Venaster-had chosen the speakers for their first public rally with care. They did not want to overwhelm any who attended with too many partic.i.p.ants or too much information. It also seemed wise to include both genders, as well as a range of ages. In the end, they settled on having three speakers, but just who they would be provided the source of much consternation and argument.

From the beginning, Spock wished to contribute his viewpoint and experience to the rally. Because many of his comrades doubted the sincerity of the praetor's intentions, none of those in leadership positions wanted Spock to speak. He reminded them that Tal'Aura could have kept him imprisoned indefinitely, or even executed him, rather than dropping all charges against him, releasing him, and granting him an unrestricted visitor's visa. He also contended that, because of the relatively high profile he carried for an underground movement, and because of his Vulcan heritage, he would supply a unique and influential voice to the a.s.semblage.

Concurring that at least the possibility of violence existed, Spock agreed that the other two rally partic.i.p.ants must volunteer for the task, and must not come from the leadership. Though he did not raise the point, he believed that should violence erupt, he would then be the likeliest target. It also occurred to him that in the event he had misjudged the praetor, he would still serve the cause as a martyr.

T'Lavent concluded her remarks, which provided a contrast to those of D'Tan. With a calm reserve, she enumerated not only the advantages that the Vulcan way could bring to Romulus, but those that the Romulan way could bring to Vulcan. When she left center stage, she carried herself with an air of dignity and satisfaction.

Finally, Spock rose to speak. He had launched the rally with some concise comments, explaining their purpose, introducing D'Tan and T'Lavent, and avowing that the Movement intended to hold future events. When he stepped to the middle of the stage, he sensed increased antic.i.p.ation in the crowd. As virtually all talking and motion ceased, he peered out to see all eyes looking to him.

"I am Spock of Vulcan," he said. "I am a citizen of the United Federation of Planets, but I am also a legal visitor to Romulus. And thanks to the efforts of Praetor Tal'Aura, the Continuing Committee, and the Romulan Senate, I am now permitted by law-as is anybody on Romulus-to speak about reunification.

"As D'Tan and T'Lavent have so eloquently described, our goals are to promote mutual understanding between Romulans and Vulcans, to foster peace and friendship between us, to find the best that we both have to offer, and to work toward the time when our two societies can become that which they once were before the Sundering: one people."

Spock paused and looked out over his audience. n.o.body moved. He saw expressions of rapt attention, but he also noted apparent anxiety in many faces. "As some of you may know," he continued, "modern Vulcan culture focuses on the individual mastery of emotion, as well as an everyday reliance on logic." He paused again, this time for effect. "This, of course, contrasts with Romulan cultural norms."

The comment drew laughter, though little more than a brief murmur drifting through the crowd. Still, it seemed to bring about the result Spock intended. He saw several fleeting smiles and a general relaxing of those listening to him.

"Humor is perhaps a ready source of cultural enrichment that Romulans can provide to Vulcans," he said. "There are others."

He spoke for twenty-five minutes, offering up his own life experience and his own outlook, comparing and contrasting the two cultures, and hypothesizing the boons to be gained from reunification of the two. Afterward, although most of the crowd departed, he, D'Tan, and T'Lavent spent an hour answering questions from those who remained. At no time did Spock detect even the threat of violence, though a number of queries came delivered in hostile words, tones, and att.i.tudes. Overall, he considered the event a success. Only a few hundred people attended the rally, and only a few dozen stayed after that to ask questions, but Spock believed that, quite possibly, a new phase of the Reunification Movement had begun.

17.

The blue-white light bathed him in its glow, so brilliant that it penetrated his closed eyelids. It surrounded him, painted his world, his universe, with its dispa.s.sionate amalgam of color. Time pa.s.sed, one minute after the next.

On his knees, Benjamin Sisko, Emissary of the Prophets, opened his eyes and directly beheld the Orb of Prophecy and Change. The mysterious hourgla.s.s-shaped artifact shined intensely, its aspect one of movement and energy. It radiated power, and embodied both promise and dread.

Reaching up, Sisko pushed closed the two hinged sides of the ark that carried the Orb. The light enclosed, Sisko waited for his eyes to adjust to the dimness of the temple. By degrees, the details of the ark came into focus, its unremarkable appearance the ant.i.thesis of what it held. And yet, gazing upon the simple container, Sisko found himself beset by profound emotions: Sadness. Loss. Fear.

He pushed himself up from his knees and slowly made his way out of the empty temple. He felt staggered, as though physically beaten. For the first few steps, he leaned heavily against the wall, afraid that, otherwise, he would crash to the floor.

Outside, the temperature had risen as morning had given way to afternoon, the moderate climate of Ashalla a shield against the autumnal chill felt elsewhere on Bajor. Vedek Sorretta stood near the temple's doorless entryway, his eyes closed and his face turned upward to catch the sunbeams filtering through the clouds. Sisko tried to walk quietly past, not wanting to disturb him-not wanting to be forced into conversation with him-but as he came abreast of Sorretta, the vedek opened his eyes.

"Emissary," Sorretta said. Dressed in traditional orange vestments, he filled them out like no other clergy Sisko had ever seen on Bajor. With his well-muscled physique, he resembled a bodybuilder more than a man of the cloth. "I trust your Orb experience provided you what you needed."

"It was . . . what I expected," Sisko hedged.

"I'm glad," Sorretta said, obviously not picking up on the particularity of Sisko's verbiage. Of course, the vedek had no reason to expect him to misrepresent himself. "Will you be staying with us much longer?"

"No, I'll be leaving tonight," Sisko said. He had come to the Bajoran capital and the Shikina Monastery six days ago, after leaving Adarak-after leaving Kasidy and Rebecca. In the days prior to his scheduled departure for the Sierra Sector and his new command, he wanted to clear his mind. Alone, he filled his days with long walks through the extensive grounds of the monastery, and his nights with hours of quiet contemplation in the plain room that the vedeks had provided for him. But he hadn't found the peace that he sought. The events of the past days and weeks and months recurred to him, and with them came the question of whether or not he had made the right choices.

"We will be sorry to see you depart," Sorretta said, "but it has been an honor to have you staying here with us."

"Thank you," Sisko said. "I appreciate your hospitality." He quickly walked on before the vedek could say more, darting around the corner of the building without looking back.

Sisko marched to the back of the temple and descended the stone stairs that led to the rear grounds of the monastery. As he did, he considered-as he had numerous times since his arrival-seeking out Opaka, who he knew still visited Shikina with regularity. He hadn't seen the esteemed former kai in many months, and he missed her guidance and quiet strength-especially in the current circ.u.mstances. Though always circ.u.mspect in her counsel, she often found the words that somehow allowed him to help himself.