The few active cells left on Bajor were dealing with the grid in much the same way as the Shakaar, but her cell heard about those things only through word of mouth. They had lost long-range contact with the other resistance groups over a year ago, although nobody was sure how it had happened—probably just a communications tower on Derna that needed maintenance, and no way to get to it. The Cardassians’ anti-aircraft system was still fully functional, but that was an assumption only—one nobody in the Shakaar cell dared to challenge.
Kira set about boiling some water on the makeshift unit her cell used for a stove. This unit could produce heat without the danger of toxic emissions, as long as it was functioning properly. Drinking water was collected from a runoff point in an underground stream below them, one of the same streams that carried off any non-compostable waste and irrigated the artificially lit gardens Shakaar was always trying—unsuccessfully—to coax into producing enough food to make supply runs less necessary.
It was important to check the snowmelt every so often in the spring to ensure that the water levels were sound; they needed enough water to last them through the summer, but too much melt too soon meant they’d have a flood on their hands. The detection grid had turned even that tedious errand into a venture of uncertainty, and nobody had been able to check the rate of runoff in almost a month. Kira was all too aware of it every time she took a drink of water. Would this be the month they’d all die of thirst in this cave? Or the night they’d all drown in their sleep when the subterranean streams beneath them began to swell, filling the chambers with icy water?
The water in the pot began to bubble, and Kira tapped the contents of a Cardassian-issued ration pack into the little saucepan she was using. Most people ate these things straight, but Kira preferred to make a kind of soupy porridge from the crushed contents of the packets. It wasn’t what any Bajoran would call delicious—the Cardassians’ idea of food took quite a bit of getting used to—but you could live on it.
It was early, and the rest of the cell was still asleep, or possibly out in the larger chamber, grumbling about failed plans. Nothing had been going well lately, not for many months. Only a very few minor operations had been successfully carried out by the Shakaar cell over the last year, working in conjunction with what was left of the Kohn-Ma cell, a group Shakaar Edon didn’t always see eye-to-eye with. The Kohn-Ma cell had fewer qualms about “friendly fire” than did any other cell Kira knew about, even if it involved civilians—even if it involved children. Kira didn’t like it, but she had always taken it to be a necessity of fighting a war. Shakaar seemed to feel differently.
Kira ate quickly. She didn’t want to be scolded for having her packet of rations so early in the day. The cell members were each supposed to be living on just one of these things every twenty-six hours, but Kira had decided she’d make another run back into one of the local townships herself, tomorrow, after the storm cleared up, to resupply the cell with food and other necessities.
She didn’t know why, but she’d been the luckiest in her outfit as far as these supply runs went. Every time she reminded Shakaar or Lupaza of it, they’d insist that luck only went so far— “How do you know your number isn’t about to come up?”Kira insisted it was only because she was more careful than the others, the ones who hadn’t made it back, though she knew it was certainly not true. She could be just as clumsy as anyone else—last time she hadn’t made it back to the warren until long after the Cardassians must have found the false life sign and moved on to find her signal—but somehow, she’d made it clean.
Kira had just about finished her meal when she jumped at a voice that seemed to come from nowhere. “Nerys!”
She turned to find that someone stood in the tunnel that connected with the northwestern entrance, the one used by the members of the Kohn-Ma cell. It was Tahna Los, a handsome but cocky young man who was not much older than Kira.
“You scared the kosstout of me,” Kira grumbled, and quickly finished her food.
“I need you for a minute.”
“You needme, eh?” Kira smirked, pretending to flirt. It always disarmed Tahna, who, despite his good looks, was notoriously clumsy with women.
“Really, Nerys, this is serious. Someone has to go and do the weather report in an hour. Biran wants me to do it, but I can’t get through those little tunnels like you can. All you have to do is look out—”
“I should have known,” Kira said. “Serious, huh? Please, Tahna. I’m busy.”
“Busy eating, as usual,” Tahna snorted.
“Well, maybe if I gain some weight, you’ll stop pestering me to slither through that little crack in the rock. Your cell should have widened that fissure a long time ago.”
“Biran says we can’t. He said if we try to open it any further, it’ll cause a cave-in.”
“Sure,” Kira muttered. “Fine, I’ll do the weather report. But this is the last time this month. I’ve done it four times in a row.”
Kira followed her friend through the hole that had been chipped away in the rock, reluctantly letting him pass into the arm that led down to his own cell’s hideout. She headed back through the winding passage until the ceiling abruptly dropped to the height of her chest, and she was forced to crouch. The rock scuffed her clothes, and dust crumbled into her hair.
It seemed to take an eternity to scuttle through the squat passage. She kept expecting to hear the wind soaring through the trees as she came closer to the tunnel’s mouth, but she heard nothing, and when she finally came upon the opening, she saw why.
There was no storm today. The sky had minimal cloud cover, and the air was moist, but warm. A perfect day.
And I’m spending it inside a hole in the rock.She squinted out at the sky, the blue color beyond the clouds so impossibly uniform. She did not want to go back inside. It was such a beautiful day, reminiscent of her childhood, and early summer days playing springball with her brothers.
She crouched there for a few moments before she found herself poking her head farther out of the tunnel, her neck and shoulders and waist following. She just wanted to stand up and stretch before reentering that cramped passage. She stepped out onto the ground, still wet from the rain the night before, and let her joints expand for a moment. Nobody had ever been caught this close to the tunnel; the kelbonite shielded them until they got to be a few paces away. Of course, there was always the chance of being spotted, but Kira felt certain that there would be no soldiers nearby. These days they were sent out only if the detection grid was tripped; otherwise, they stayed in their stifling barracks where they could…do whatever it was Cardassian soldiers did in their free time. Kira didn’t care to speculate.
She took a few steps forward, acknowledging a desire to run out into the open and enjoy the day, enjoy the natural beauty of her world. She inhaled deeply. She could smell the rain-soaked spice of the wild salamgrasses, the pitch from black rubberwood pines.
Maybe I should go home, too.
Not forever, just until they could figure out some way to beat the grid. Gantt had talked extensively about going back to his family instead of waiting around for nothing to happen. Some of the cells had disbanded, she knew, the members slipping back to their families, back to their old lives. But Kira didn’t accept that the resistance movement was beaten. It was a temporary setback; they’d find a way to—
She froze. A rustling in the trees, just ahead of her. She immediately ducked, crouch-stepped backward to the cave, eyes wide and watchful, and then she saw it—not a Cardassian soldier, but a lean cadge lupus, its lips curled back over its sharp yellowed teeth. Kira froze, and the animal licked its lips, its ribs showing, its belly undoubtedly empty. Would it follow her back into the cave? She didn’t want to chance it. She reached for her phaser—and it wasn’t there.