There was no way to warn the Gemelen children, or let them know they were about to receive visitors, so the relief team members materialized two hundred yards or so away from the farmstead buildings, beside one of the tall strillagrass fields, then quickly walked the short distance to the home.

“Herem? Jeila?” Jake called. It was early morning; the children shouldn’t have left yet for their near-daily trip to the hospital.

As they came closer, they heard voices.

Bashir and Kato looked questioningly at Jake.

He shook his head. “That’s not the children.”

“I should’ve checked out phasers....” the young woman muttered.

“We’ll be careful,” Bashir ordered in a low voice.

They picked up their pace, but ducked closer to the tall grass, ready to disappear into its thick waving stalks if necessary.

Once they reached the buildings and the wall partially surrounding them, they could make out the words, which became increasingly clear as they drew nearer.

“We’ll provide medical care for your family — Dr. Komed will take care of your sister. She’ll have the best care available. We’ll help you with your farm — Lucett was a farm laborer before the final attack. He needs employment, you need labor to bring in your family crop. You will help each other. You will be part of the rebuilding of Cardassia; you yourself can become an employer, a leader in your community, someone others will turn to, whose opinion will matter....”

Julian started. “Now I recognize that voice! That’s Gul Madred!”

“What would he be doing out here?” Jake whispered intently.

“All you need to do is let us help you, and let us tell others how we’ve helped you. Perhaps give a speech or two, a testimonial, letting our people know that you support the Directorate, because the Directorate supports you, as Cardassian citizens, in preserving your family and your way of life, the values that have always been the staples of Cardassian society....”

“I would say he’s indulging in a little publicity generating and vote buying,” the doctor responded drily.

Aya peeked out at the group. “The gul looks like the only military, the others seem to be civilian. I don’t see any weapons.”

The Federation team stepped into view.

“Well, well, Gul Madred, what a surprise to see you here,” Bashir announced in carefully modulated tones.

The Cardassian team reacted with surprise. There were four of them, two males and two females. Jake recognized Gul Madred and Zillani Umpek, one of the female orderlies from the Pa’rem’tir City Hospital. The better-dressed of the two strangers, an older woman with silver in her hair, wore similar clothing to the orderly, though of a finer cut, bespeaking the medical profession, and must be Dr. Komed. The other male, huskier and not as tall as Madred, with weathered features, was dressed in nondescript clothing; he was presumably Lucett, the farm laborer Madred had named.

The three Gemelen children stood uncertainly in front of their house, with Jeila holding both her brothers’ hands while they stood protectively to either side. Seeing Jake, however, the girl brightened. She would have gone to him, but Herem and Togga both tightened their grips on her fingers in concern.

“Dr. Bashir...” Madred announced as though the name left a bad taste in his mouth. “What brings the oh-so-important and oh-so-busy leader of the Federation relief team to a small Cardassian farm oh-so-far away from Cardassia City?” His coldly imperious gaze swept toward Jake. “Ah, yes, the young human reporter, Jake Sisko. Who else would be poking his nose into Cardassian efforts at self-reconstruction — matters that are none of his concern.” Back to Bashir. “Or yours, doctor. Perhaps you should return to our capital, where you have convinced the lesser part of our population that they could not eat, drink, breathe, or excrete without the Federation’s generosity and instruction.”

Bashir coldly applauded. “Ooh, you should be on stage, Gul Madred, you managed to play to your audience with just the right amount of deprecation and insinuation. I’m surprised you didn’t stop to take a bow. I’d heard you had a reputation for the dramatic, along with your talent for torture. How ... nice to see this fame is just as well-earned.”

The gul’s murderous expression clearly promised the doctor a generous sampling of the evidence for his other reputation, if he were given the opportunity.

Bashir didn’t back down.

“So what’s happening here?” Jake tried to interrupt the stand-off.

“The Directorate is here to take care of its own, Mr. Sisko, despite your pseudo-journalistic allegations,” Madred stated loudly, through obviously clenched teeth. “And I think it’s time you left.”

“Taking care of your own? Time we left?” Bashir interjected. “The Directorate doesn’t care about these children — or any orphans — beyond what political use you can make of them, and then they’ll be just as disposable—“

“You dare—“ Madred interrupted, taking a step closer. “You, who pat yourselves on the back for spending a month here, telling us what we have permission to do in exchange for a few shipfuls of supplies—“

“Herem, can I talk to you?” Jake said urgently, trying to defuse the unexpectedly heated situation before it could turn violent. “It’s your decision, after all, not Gul Madred’s or Julian’s.”

“Oh, certainly, the Federation can accuse others of having ulterior motives, but seizes the opportunity to exert its own influence, privately!” Madred mocked.

“No more privately than you were doing, before our arrival,” Bashir noted more mildly, regaining his self-control. “Or doesn’t Herem have the right to talk to anybody else but you and those you approve of? Ah, for the good old days....”

Leaving Bashir and Madred trading daggered glares, Jake touched Herem’s arm and gestured back toward the house entryway.

With a suspicious glance at Bashir and Kato, the young Cardassian joined Jake there after first sending the younger siblings back inside.

“Herem, you don’t need to make any speeches, or testimonials, or become a spokesman for the Federation relief team, to get help for Jeila.” He gestured at the two Federation medics. “Dr. Bashir will help her no matter what your political feelings are.”

Herem glanced back at the Cardassian doctor and laborer. He was wavering. “So I could accept their help for Jeila, and you’d help me too, and Lucett would help with the farm?”

Jake knew that if Herem and Jeila became spokespersons for the Directorate, he wouldn’t be allowed near them. So much for helping a teenager to save his family. So much for the little girl’s bright smiles. So much for Cardassian faces that the citizens of the Federation were already falling in love with. So much for his current stories.

He couldn’t let that happen without at least trying to convince Herem otherwise.

“Do you support Directorate policies?” Jake asked bluntly.

Herem looked uncertain.

“Do you know what those policies are?”

“Well ... no....”

“So how can you agree to make speeches supporting people when you don’t even know what they’re asking you to support?”

“I’ll ask them first....”

“Hey, Umpek couldn’t be bothered to help you when you waited at the hospital, day after day, unless you registered,” Jake said. “Now she came all the way out here to help you, in return for a few speeches about how great the Directorate is? Do you think she really cares about you — or Jeila?”

That reminder sparked something in Herem’s eyes, resentment for all the days spent waiting in the makeshift hospital for medical care either unavailable or deliberately withheld.

Herem marched back to the rest of the group. “I don’t think I want to give any speeches about the Directorate,” he announced. “If that is the price of help, I will find it somewhere else.”

Madred’s expression darkened, and the thick, rope-like sides of his neck visibly darkened with anger. “So you’ll become lackeys of the Federation, dependent on them instead of turning to your own people? Is that what it means to you to be Cardassian?”

“They didn’t spend half a season telling me I wasn’t entitled to help unless I let them split up my family and take me away from my home.” There was a tremor in the teenager’s voice, but he didn’t back down — reminders of his sister’s need were enough to keep him determined even in the face of the gul’s rage.

Madred turned his furious gaze on Bashir, as if holding him personally responsible, then turned on his heel to face the rest of the Directorate team.

“Beam us out of here!” he grated.

The foursome vanished in a sparkling haze in the dusty air.

“Jake is staying?” a shy little voice asked. Everyone looked at the entranceway, where Jeila had crept back out in spite of her brother’s instructions. With utter trust and a serene smile, she reached for Jake’s hand.

He grinned back down at her and took her hand. Hearing her voice, he realized she sounded more congested than she had just the morning before, and her voice more raspy.

Bashir quickly joined them, stooping to run his medical tricorder over her small body, and studying the readouts intently. He frowned. The little girl leaned against Jake as if wanting his protection.

“Well? What’s wrong with her? Can you cure her?” Herem interjected before Jake could.

“I’m ... not sure yet, Herem,” the human replied with firm professionalism. “I think I’d like to take you all back to Cardassia City to do a complete work-up on Jeila, and on both you and your brother, to do some genetic comparisons along with the other tests.”

Herem’s eyes widened, and he quickly glanced uncertainly between his siblings and the farm around them. “But....”

“That’ll help me rule out anything that might not be illness-related, but within the physiological norms for you all. It’ll help us diagnose Jeila more accurately and more quickly — and the sooner we know exactly what’s wrong with her, the sooner we can begin treating her appropriately.” Bashir stood up again.

The look Herem shot at Jake was almost accusatory.

“Don’t worry, Herem,” Jake tried to reassure him, despite his own fears at Bashir’s response. “Julian knows what he’s doing. He’s the best! And you’ll be right there with her! You wouldn’t let her go alone, would you?”

“Aya?”

The red-headed microbiologist was already scanning the small courtyard. “Nothing unusual showing up in the air or soil of this courtyard so far — nothing beyond the usual contaminants we’re seeing at Cardassia City,” she reported. “But I’ll do a thorough scan of this entire area and take samples, and let you know.”

“Don’t forget the well,” Jake told her, still holding Jeila’s hand.

“Are you sure you’ll be safe here alone?” Bashir asked seriously, looking at the spot where Madred and his team had stood.

She nodded. “I think so. There’s no one around I should be concerned about, is there, Herem?”

He shook his head. “No one from the city has come this far out, until today. And the farms around us, they’re empty now. Anybody the Jem’Hadar didn’t kill, has left. Except us.”

“Then I’ll be fine. Besides, I’ve got my combadge. Even with the atmospheric dust, I should be able to reach somebody, if I need to.” She leaned down to give the little girl a hug. “Just take care of Jeila, and I’ll take care of myself, and see what I can find here to help her.”

“All right,” the doctor agreed. “Herem, Togga, come stand by us. Good luck, Aya.” He touched his own combadge. “This is Bashir, contacting the Nightingale. Five to beam back to the relief station at Cardassia City, three of them children, one patient. Emergency priority.”

Just before they dematerialized, Jake heard Bashir mutter, under his breath, “Now how the hell did Madred get access to a transporter to get all the way out here?”

The small group materialized outside the clinic. A nurse was already waiting.

“The little girl. Her name is Jeila,” Bashir stated precisely, with a quick wave at the child.

“But—“ Herem objected as the woman moved forward.

“You can go with her, help her get settled, I’ll be there in a minute,” the doctor tried to reassure him. “Eske will check you all in, while I run her data through our main medical banks.”

“It’s okay, Herem, I’ll be there too,” Jake promised as the Cardassian youth turned to him in concern. “No one will separate you.”

The Gemelen children obeyed. For just a second, before Bashir could move off too, Jake had his ear.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“I don’t know yet, Jake. Her readings are troubling; I need to take another look.”

“Uh ... about Madred.... Do you really think you should have argued with him that way?” the younger man couldn’t help asking. He had been both impressed and concerned at the doctor’s verbal challenge to the hulking Cardassian gul. “Considering his position in the Directorate?”

Julian’s expression closed down. “I know I shouldn’t have lost my temper, but when I heard that tripe he was spouting.... I’ve read reports of his brutality and torture. If the likes of him gain control of Cardassia....” He shook his head. “The galaxy will be a harsher place for the next generation, Cardassian and Federation alike.”

“Do you think it means they’re getting desperate, trying to get kids like Herem to speak for them?”

“Very possibly. The first election is only a few weeks away. If the majority of the population confirms the reformation of the Detapa Council, the Directorate’s position could be precarious. Now if you’ll excuse me, Jake, I’ve got a new patient to tend to....”

By the time Jake, Herem, and Togga were admitted into the small examination room, Jeila already lay on the biobed, watching the little bobbing indicators of her heartbeat, respiration, and other vitals in some fascination.

“Which one is that?” Jeila asked, pointing at one of the columns.

Eske smiled at her eager question. “That one tells us how much oxygen is being absorbed from your lungs into your blood system.” The nurse ran a small device over the girl’s chest.

“Is it good?” Herem asked Jake, frowning. “It looks low.”

Jake thought it looked low, too, but he wasn’t going to say so. Instead he shrugged. “Each of the read-outs is for a different system, and every species is different. I’m not a doctor, so I don’t understand it all, but Dr. Bashir can explain what it means.”

At that moment, Dr. Bashir entered the chamber.

“Well, we’re getting a little crowded in here,” he remarked. “Jake, why don’t you take the boys out and get them some clean clothes while Eske and I complete the examination.”

Jeila’s eyes widened and turned appealingly on Herem and Jake both.

“And get something for our young lady, too.” He smiled at her. “She’ll need something else to wear.”

“C’mon, Herem, Togga, let’s give the doctor room to work. We’ll be right back, Jeila, okay?” Jake tried to reassure all three of the Cardassian children — but the look on Julian’s face concerned him.

“Jeila?”

“I’ll be all right. Jake says so,” the girl replied, showing a trust Jake hoped wasn’t misplaced. “I’m not scared. I’m Cardassian.”

That settled it. Jake suspected Herem left more to prove that he wasn’t scared either, than that he wasn’t worried about his sister.

As they stepped out, he heard Eske mutter, “Right lung at thirty-seven percent capacity, twenty-eight percent in the left....”

The door sealed behind them.

Jake led the boys to one of the supply stations, covertly watching their reactions to Cardassia City. Neither of them seemed particularly overwhelmed by the city or its population, nor even by the extent of the destruction. He was a little disappointed at first, then chided himself for expecting that, just because the children were from a rural area, they would be unfamiliar with the city or what had happened. After all, they must both have been part of the Cardassian education system, considering their ages, and nearly every major public announcement came from Cardassia City, before the Dominion attack. As for destruction, they had seen enough at their own home and at Pa’rem’tir City to be familiar with it.

The only time Herem really reacted to what they saw was when they walked past half a dozen youths not much younger than he was, who were working together, setting up a shelter with the aid of one of the Federation relief team members. The boys slowed their work, all taking a furtive moment or two to watch the small group walk by, as if wondering who they were and if they’d be stopping.

Togga moved restively closer to his older brother.

“Are they orphans? Will they have to live there?” Herem asked, low-voiced and unnerved.

“Some of them are orphans. Some of them have surviving families. But they’re working together to help build shelters for other refugees,” Jake assured them. “Nobody will make them live here, unless they want to.”

Both looked relieved.

By the time they returned, in clean, better-fitting clothes, with garments for their little sister, Dr. Bashir was waiting for them outside the exam chamber.

“Togga, why don’t you go see Jeila and give her the new tunic and pants? Eske will explain the procedure,” he said cryptically. “Herem, I’m afraid I need to talk to you.” The human led the youth aside.

Jake stuck to them.

“How soon will she be able to come home with us?” Herem asked immediately.

“Well ... I don’t know,” Bashir admitted gravely.

The boy’s eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with Jeila?”

The doctor hesitated a second, then began speaking, very carefully and somberly. “Jeila has a chronic pulmonary infection, with significant inflammation, probably a reaction to something in the toxins that were released into the atmosphere over the past few months. It has led to a significant reduction in her lung capacity as well as reducing her body’s ability to fight off disease. With medication, the inflammation can be treated, and the lung tissue can be regenerated....”

Herem sighed, and it seemed as though all the anxiety in the world slid off his shoulders.

Jake grinned and laughed. “See? I told you Dr. Bashir could help her!”

Bashir’s gaze turned to him for a second, his expression warning, before returning to Herem with a more compassionate look.

“Unfortunately, that is not all that is wrong with your sister.”

The Cardassian tensed again, his dark gray eyes widening. “What else?”

Julian licked his upper lip. “Herem, there is a new disease that has appeared on Cardassia since the Dominion attack. Your sister is showing early symptoms of the disease. It is ... not a disease we are familiar with, and we are still trying to determine its vectors and how to prevent and deal with it. Thus far, the illness has been terminal in everyone who’s contracted it....”

“Why don’t you cure it too?” Herem asked outright, not understanding what Bashir was trying to say.

“At present, Herem, we don’t have a cure — but we’re working on it—“

“You don’t have a cure? So what are you going to do for Jeila?”

“We’re going to do everything we can. We are continuing to research the disease, and we feel we’re making progress every day, but we—“

“Making progress? That means nothing! There’s nothing you can do? We left our home and came here so you could do nothing?”

His sympathetic expression fixed on his face, Bashir began again. “The first thing we’re going to do is take care of that pulmonary infection that’s been attacking her lungs. With that under control, she’ll have more strength.” He took a deep breath, knowing his next words would not be well received. “And then I’m afraid we’re going to have to keep her quarantined, until—“

“What?” Herem’s eyes grew wider in fear and anger. “Quarantined? But that’s— You said you wouldn’t separate us! You promised!” he shouted in accusation. “I’m not leaving my sister! You can’t make me!”

“You’re not being separated!” the doctor hastily tried to assure him. “You’ll be able to see her every day — but we’ll need to take some precautions to make sure you don’t get the same disease, and keep you—“

“No! You can’t lie to us and expect us to stay! We’re leaving!”

Bashir’s expression hardened. “I’m afraid not, Herem.”

“What?”

“Your sister has a very deadly disease. I’m afraid we can’t just release her.”

“Deadly?” The young Cardassian whirled on Jake, every muscle clenched with accusation as the words drove in through his emotional denial.

Jake was stunned. “She’s got the plague?”

“Yes,” Julian affirmed.

“But—“

Herem pushed past the humans to follow the way Togga had gone a few moments before.

“Julian ... can’t you help her?” Jake asked in a very small voice.

“Jake, I promise you, we will do everything we can. But that’s all I can promise.”

“Can you really make them stay here? I thought people could refuse treatment....”

Bashir actually flinched a bit. “They can. But please don’t tell Herem that, Jake.”

“Dr. Bashir?” an orderly called from the ward.

“I’ll be right there,” Julian called back. “I’m sorry, Jake, I’ve got to go. Eske is taking care of Jeila. You can see her if you like, the disease doesn’t seem to affect non-Cardassians, and it may help the children feel more secure.” He hesitated. “I wish I could give Herem more assurance than that. But please, encourage him not to leave. Don’t tell him he’s got the right to make decisions about medical care for Jeila, since he’s of age for a Cardassian and he’s her closest relative. If he takes her away from treatment, she’ll die the sooner, and her brothers may die too.”

Bashir hurried off. Left standing alone, Jake found himself falling back against the wall, still in shock.

Jeila had the plague? No, it just wasn’t possible. Not that bright-eyed little girl.... They had to find the answer. They had to.