Chapter 7

The final cargo had been loaded in good time; nothing was left but several tons of seed grain due to arrive from Bajor within a few hours. Captain Olara had given them all the rest of the evening off, with the Li’s Run scheduled to depart for Prophet’s Landing in the morning. Then he had gone to send his reports to the Commerce Ministry and to Captain Yates — another outworlder, another human, another from the Federation. Wife of the outworld Emissary she might be, but there was nothing in his faith or the prophecies that spoke of her.

Dav headed for the Promenade. He knew he needed to be careful there. There weren’t many people about at this time of night, and no one should know him. But there was always a chance he might encounter the traitor of Aoja, here, in public. There was a chance, however slim, that she might remember where she had seen him before, and guess why he was here. He had a mission; he wasn’t going to let anyone stop him.

Strolling through the quiet, open mall, he moved to the second level. Through the oval window ports, he could see the stars so clearly, so distant and cold. He could see the Runners, making their slow and majestic way toward the Celestial Temple. He stared at them, unblinking.

They were lonely little points of light. Each running alone.

He knew what they felt. He remembered. The fear and the exhilaration, he knew them both. To sense the enemy behind, all around…. To feel secure that the Prophets would protect him, yet to have the fear that gave wings to his feet and power to his pumping lungs, that gave him the strength to carry the burden on his back for all those kilometers…. The certainly that he would win, he would make it through the desert…. To know beyond any doubt that he would survive to carry out the will of the Prophets…. Racing through the endless desert bluffs and sands, air burning his lungs, his muscles beyond exhaustion to the point of tears, driven by fear and exhilaration, only his faith carrying him on, lightening the pack that meant life to his people and death to their enemy, only his faith….

His faith, and the need of his people. They had needed him to run, then. In their long day of toil, and their too-short night of exhausted sleep, they had needed him to win, even if they never knew it. It had been vital that he avoid the Cardassian patrols, that he survive first the desert heat of day and then the desert chill of night. He had to win through to carry out his mission, to destroy the Cardassian base. And he had done so. For them, for all of them.

That had been all those years ago. He was an old man now. He couldn’t run anymore.

But, Dav knew as he stared out at the stars, he still had the strength and determination for this one last mission, this one last battle.

This one last death.

After that, it wouldn’t matter. He would know he had done all he could. He could rest, at ease with his conscience, or he could die. Either way, his final race would be over.

* * * *

Heading back to her own quarters through the near-deserted corridor, Kira was surprised to find Rig keeping step with her. She’d expected the security chief to have stayed at Shakaar’s door, if not retired for the night.

Before either woman could say anything, they were interrupted.

“Colonel?”

They both turned automatically. Technician Sonn was hurrying toward them.

“Colonel?” she repeated, coming to a stop at full attention, her gaze shifting between the two of them. “I hope I’m not too late, sir, but Lt. Kaoron said you wanted to see me as soon as we docked.”

Kira had to think for a moment — her mind was still on politics — then she remembered. She glanced at Rig. What the hell, if this has anything to do with the plot she uncovered….

“Yes, I did, Sonn. About the brawl yesterday….”

The young woman flinched.

“There was an older man involved, one you apparently knew, and helped out.” She paused, studying the girl for anything her face or posture might reveal. Beside her, she could almost feel the intensity of Rig’s stare, doing the same.

“I didn’t really know him — I just saw him around the bay, he handles cargo on one of the regular cargo ships. What about him?”

“Who is he? Which ship?”

“His name is Dav … he’s on the Li’s Run. That’s really all I know….” Sonn’s glance strayed to Colonel Rig again for a second, then quickly back to Kira, looking nervous. “What happened?”

“Why did you help him last night?” Kira asked.

“He….” She lifted one shoulder in an embarrassed half-shrug. “Well, he reminds me of my grandfather. He used to drink too much, too, and to start talking about the Occupation and the Resistance and how he used to fight the Cardassians, like Dav did at Quark’s…. Grandfather was bitter, too, he felt…that we’ve done a lot of things wrong since then. Mama always shook her head when he got that way and said that all you could do was let him drink and put him to bed and hope he’d be sober in the morning.”

“Do you know anything else about Dav Mino?” Rig interrupted impatiently.

The technician shook her head.

“Thank you, Sonn. You can go.”

“Yes, sir….” With a last glance at Rig, the woman hurried away at a quick trot.

Kira turned on Rig. “You know his name?”

“When she said Dav, he sounded familiar. He reminds her of her grandfather — that gives me an age range — and he talked about being in the Resistance. I’m familiar with the available files — I’ve been going through them a lot in the last week,” she concluded more grimly.

“He incited a riot on the Promenade today. Could he be the assassin?”

“He killed for the Olan; he’s capable of it.”

The Olan. From Ralinte. Emyn was from Ralinte. Carn had said there were Emyns among the Olan cell. The constable might know more….

Rig pursed her lips before continuing. “He was at Jalanda during the riots against the Cardassian treaty, and at the Kenda riot, too, but there was nothing to connect him to either event, that we ever learned.”

“Is he on your list of suspects who might be trying to kill the First Minister?” Kira asked more tensely.

“He wasn’t. Until now.”

Kira tapped her combadge. “Kira to Emyn.”

There was no response for a long few seconds. Frowning, she tried again. Nothing.

“I’ll be with Shakaar,” Rig said abruptly, and strode off, already calling her deputy to notify him.

“And I’ll notify Brilgar to get a security detail to the Li’s Run to pick up this man, then find Emyn,” Kira muttered to herself. “She’d better have a good reason for not answering….”

* * * *

One of the more remarkable facts about Deep Space Nine's Promenade was the range of its moods. The same wide concourse that was as crowded and bustling as any city street by day would be next to deserted when the late hours of night approached. Now, as Constable Emyn walked along the lower level, her footsteps echoed back to her in the towering emptiness, bouncing hollowly from bulkhead to bulkhead.

She sighed, and that sound fell flat on the deck. She hadn’t slept well last night, and it had been a long day. Too many thoughts and memories had her on edge. Part of her knew that she should go back to her quarters and think things through, but it was the last thing she wanted to do. What she wanted was a long, hard run to exhaust her body beyond her mind’s racing, but that wouldn’t be an option until morning. A late night check of the Promenade wasn’t doing much to soothe her, but it was something. She needed to move.

She also needed to be undisturbed; she had deactivated her combadge as she walked.

Things were quiet, as they should be at this time of night. Even Quark’s was closed, and that meant there was nothing open on this level.

Abruptly, Emyn stopped. One of the echoes had been just a bit off tempo. If nothing was open on this level, why was something moving about?

Was she imagining it? She paused again, listening more than looking. Nothing. Or so it seemed. But she knew better. Her intuition hadn’t failed her before, and it told her that something was there. The fine hairs on the back of her neck were standing up. Somebody was following her.

She whirled around.

Nothing. But it was still there, whatever that nothing was.

“Show yourself,” she demanded of the shadows.

One of the shadows moved apart from the others, and into the dim light. She stared. It was the old man from the brawl at Quark’s. It was the same man who’d incited the riot on the Promenade. It was the same man she’d seen long ago, in the cliffs surrounding Aoja….

“You—“ she breathed.

“So you do recognize me. I thought you would.” She could hear the bitterness in his words as he approached, and see the glint of anger in his eyes.

“Why are you here?” she asked, equally low-voiced. Yelling for assistance didn’t occur to her. Rationally, she would have known there wasn’t likely to be anyone near, but someone would have heard the echoes of a cry, through the empty Promenade. Less rationally, something inside forced her to listen, to hear what he had to say.

“You know who I am. How are you still alive, traitor? After so many of us died that night? After so many of your own family and friends from Aoja died?” His aged face, deeply lined from years of pain and turmoil, was wreathed in strange shadows from the uncertain light. “Or have you forgotten it so easily? Do you betray us in memory as well?”

Emyn felt her body going rigid, her old defense. But her mask did not fall into place, not this time. She knew her emotions must have been written across her face, a pain that rivaled his own. “I remember.”

* * * *

“Penar!” The soldier’s rough voice rang out against the walls of the bluffs. “What are you still doing here? We’ve been called back!”

The other Cardassian’s voice seemed puzzled. “Called back? Why?”

“We’re regrouping — they have a lead,” the first replied urgently. There were hurried footsteps as he ran to meet his companion. “We’ll have to hurry. Tovan sent word — we might have something that will help us close in.”

“How?” Penar said, still baffled.

“Pah, you and your questions,” the soldier muttered. “Stop talking and let’s go!”

The two of them broke into a run, their feet skidding clumsily on the rough, uneven ground. It was hard enough to navigate the twisting crevasses of the bluffs, much less try to run through them in the dark of night. Penar leaned heavily on a jutting boulder to hoist his bulky weight through a tight switchback in the ravine; after a moment, he slipped through and hurried after his comrade, breathing heavily.

The sound of their footsteps faded, and soon the night was silent. The sculpted rock walls curved up from the ravine floor, bands of colored stone mirrored and balanced by alternating streams of starlight and shadow. For a moment, the geometry of dark and light was motionless; then a shadow stirred, pulled away from its place below the ledge of the boulder. Slowly, careful not to make a sound, Lise uncoiled her long limbs and emerged from her hiding place into the open air. Her eyes were intense as she stared down the ravine to where the Cardassians had gone.

“They’ll be found out, now,” she whispered. She lifted her head to gaze up at the ribbon of sky, brilliant with thousands of diamond stars, that was visible above the canyon walls. “But they will have enough time.”

Then, turning in the other direction, she loped off down the narrow trail. She was barefoot, carrying her sandals so that her feet would fall quietly as she ran. The stone was cool and rough under her feet. Conscious thought gave way to sensation, perception. She felt the cold air rushing past her, heard the soft sweep of her own movements echoing off the stone. Her head ached, and the wound on her head throbbed where her hair had been pulled back tightly, almost cruelly, into a rough coil to keep it out of the way. But her eyes were keen and familiar with the terrain, and the air burned with strength in her lungs, and that was all that was important right now. With smooth strides, she glided swiftly down the twisting path.

After a few minutes the trail widened; she was nearing the end of the ravine, and the high walls were tapering out. Lise paused in the shadows, making sure that the way was clear before stepping out into the open. Ahead of her, beyond the bluffs, she could catch a glimpse of the desert, wide and dark against the silver glow of the sky. For just a moment she hesitated, glancing around her. Then she saw what she was looking for — a small crevasse in the wall to her left, almost impossible to see in the indirect light. She darted over to that opening, leaned down, and slipped through it.

She was forced to crawl for several meters, before the cleft in the rock expanded to a small cave. It was nearly pitch black, but as Lise’s eyes began to adjust, she could just see a faint outline of light on the walls that told of an opening ahead. Rising carefully to her feet, she took small, tentative steps toward that glow, holding her breath. As she drew closer, she could see that the glow was not stars, but some artificial light source. Her heart was thundering.

Out of the darkness, a thick arm lashed out and tightened around her neck. Lise stifled a scream that would never have forced its way past that grip.

“By the Prophets.” The raw whisper behind her was thick with worry and irritation, and the arm released its hold. “I could have killed you, girl. Why didn’t you signal?”

Lise could only gasp for breath, shivering from head to foot. “I….”

“Hush,” the man commanded her. Hands gripped her arms and guided her forward. “Stay quiet until we get back to camp.”

She nodded breathlessly, allowing him to lead her through the cavern. They turned a corner and the golden light bloomed against the walls. A few more steps and the opening came into view. Lise saw a small open space, the floor widening in a shallow bowl before rising into protective walls that nearly hid them from the sky overhead. A small lamp burned in the center of this space, its light so weak that it didn’t even reach the top of the ravine before fading out. Several thin forms were huddled wearily around it. More stood nearby in the shadows.

The Olan! Little more than a handful of men and women, fifteen at the most, some of them almost children. All of them tired and bent under the strain of hiding from Cardassian patrols for days. Lise’s breath caught in her throat when she saw them.

One of the men, a tall Bajoran with ragged dark hair falling over brown eyes, stood silently as they emerged from the shadows. Lise guessed from his stance that he was the leader of the cell. He looked older than he probably really was, but a gentleness that Lise couldn’t understand seemed to soften his features. He gazed at her as the light fell on her, and his brow furrowed.

“Dav,” he said, questioningly.

“The patrols passed us by,” Lise’s guide answered. The burly man was looking at her now, and was also puzzled. The others simply watched. “There was just her in the caves. Who are you?” he asked her suddenly. “You’re from the village?”

“I … yes,” Lise murmured. She felt the leader’s eyes on her, and the questioning gaze made her lightheaded. “I came to….”

“You aren’t one of the messengers — I don’t recognize you,” Olan interrupted. He wasn’t accusing her; he was simply stating the facts. “How did you find us? Were you followed?”

“I wasn’t followed.” Lise took a breath. “I … know this land well. I played here when I was a child. I thought you might be here, so I checked … and I was right, so I had to come….”

“That was stupid,” the man called Dav snorted. “You could have been caught, trying to find us by yourself. If you were working with the messengers you’d have known that someone already brought us supplies today, before the patrols got too close. Regne, I think….”

Tana. She’d made the run successfully, so it seemed. Still, Lise shivered at the mention of her friend’s name. And the resolve in her heart sprang to new life. She straightened and met the leader’s eyes defiantly.

He was watching her, now frowning in confusion. He saw that her arms were empty, save for the worn leather sandals clenched in one hand. “Why are you here?” he asked.

“I have a … message,” Lise said. She willed herself to speak strongly. “The Cardassians are looking for you. They’re killing our people to make us tell them where you are.”

The man winced, his eyes darkening. “Regne told me. I’m sorry, child.”

“My brother was almost killed.” Tears filled Lise’s eyes and she despised herself for it, but her voice hardened. “He’s only a boy. You’re supposed to be fighting the Cardassians, not making innocent children take the blame for what you’re doing. We never asked for you to come here.”

She had the attention of the entire camp by now. They stared at her, many with narrowed eyes. Olan shook his head. “We’re here to help your people,” he said, frustration beginning to creep into his voice. “I’m sorry we couldn’t stop the interrogation last night — we’d be wiped out if we tried to strike back now. I grieve for your family, but….”

“My family’s dying,” Lise told him fiercely. Tears streamed down her face and she made no effort to hide them. “The Cardassians will kill my family, because of you.”

“They won’t,” he insisted. “We need time to prepare, but we’re going to end this, soon. I promise you.”

Lise felt dizzy. She drew in the cold night air and held it in her lungs until the rocks and walls and haggard soldiers gathered in the light drew back into focus. “I already have,” she murmured.

Olan couldn’t hear her. “What?”

“I said, I’ve already put a stop to it,” Lise said, her voice now ringing out clearly. “You’re not going to hide behind my family any longer.”

She hadn’t expected silence like this. Outcries, gasps, maybe just a nervous tensing of muscles — but not complete silence. Their eyes bored into her, too exhausted and dazed to fully comprehend what she’d done. Lise held fast to her reckless courage. “They won’t be able to cut you off for several hours. I’ve made sure you can escape before they—”

“You swinelet!” Dav’s hands dug into her shoulders before she could twist away; he half-lifted, half-threw her against the wall in one furious motion, pinning her there. His grip tightened until pain shot up her neck. “You betrayed us! We came here to fight for you and you betrayed us!”

Lise struggled; she could barely move. “Let go of me.” But her voice failed her and the words were nothing but a feeble breath. “Let go.”

“You betrayed us!” Dav continued to shout. But now he was shaking, pain and horror filling his eyes. Lise shuddered too, out of sympathy for him, out of her own fear and pain and loss. “What have you done?! We could lose everything — everything! You betrayed us!”

“Let go of me!”

“Let her go.” Olan stepped forward, calmly, and put a hand on his friend’s arm. “Mino. Let her go.”

Dav only resisted for a moment. Then his hands fell away and he stepped back, watching Lise where she trembled against the stone. “You traitor,” he whispered. “You will be struck down for this. Traitor.”

There was no anger in Olan’s face when he turned back to her. “Run,” he said simply. “If you can. Back to the village. It’s dangerous for you here.”

Emyn Lise hesitated. “I….”

“Just go,” he said softly. “May the Prophets forgive you. Go.”

She couldn’t bear the sadness in his voice, the shattered hope in the eyes of his people. Pushing herself away from the wall, she stumbled back into the darkness of the cavern, groped her way to the silvery light of the main trail. Then she staggered onto the path and ran clumsily back the way she had come, toward home.

Chapter Eight

After you read this episode, please Leave Feedback for the authors.