“Ah,” Dukat replied, a smile spreading across his face. “And this…concerns you, Legate?”
“You know perfectly well it does!”Kell snapped. “When you abolished religious counsel in the work camps and placed restrictions on the open practice of the Bajoran faith, I thought it was one of your more intelligent decisions. Now you’ve reversed it. Explain yourself!”
Dukat’s smile didn’t waver. “You have my reports. You’re aware that there has been a measurable drop in terrorist activity since the implementation of the new sensor sweeps.”
Kell scoffed. “A drop, perhaps. But not an end.”
“Restoring the Bajorans’ religious freedom demonstrates that they can only benefit from abandoning the insurgency,” Dukat pressed on. “Besides, I have found that it is useful to give the Bajorans something precious to them, once in a while.”
“Useful?”
“Yes. So I can threaten to take it away again.”
Kell shook his head, his expression conveying annoyed disapproval. “There was a time, Dukat, when you understood how dangerous rampant, unchecked spirituality could be—when you recognized it for the cancer it is, and didn’t hesitate to excise it.”
Dukat’s eyes narrowed. “I have not forgotten,” he said tightly.
“And yet now you’re using the Bajorans’ religious freedom as part of some self-serving strategy, as if running Bajor was a game ofkotra.”
“Violence is down. Productivity is up. If the annexation were indeed a game, I daresay I am winning.”
“But you haven’t won yet,”Kell pointed out. “Cardassia can scarcely afford to risk Bajor’s long-term usefulness on your overconfidence.”
Dukat was growing weary of the conversation. “I assure you, Legate, Bajor is under control. Mycontrol. Will that be all?”
“For now,”Kell said, “But this conversation is not over.”The legate abruptly cut the connection, and the prefect stared at his now-empty holoframe for a moment, imagining the day when Kell would pay for every slight, every obstruction, and every wasted moment he had ever caused Dukat.
That day will come soon,he assured himself. This I vow.
Mora was still flushed with pride regarding the reception Odo had received, though it had been several hours since the Cardassian dignitaries had left the Bajoran Institute of Science. Mora had induced the shape-shifter to take on the forms of several animals, but it was the so-called “trick” he’d done with his neck that had garnered the most reaction. Mora couldn’t quite gauge why the Cardassians had responded as they had, but he didn’t much care. That his work was being considered important was the best outcome he could have hoped for.
Yopal had insisted that Odo be put aside for months at a time while Mora attended to other matters that interested the Cardassians. In the past two years, Mora imagined he had only worked with Odo the collective equivalent of a few weeks. Being idle seemed not to have a physical effect on Odo, but it concerned Mora nonetheless, if for no other reason than that he could not use Odo as an excuse to avoid collaborating on Cardassian projects. But that was probably going to change, now. The occupation leaders, including Gul Dukat himself, had been so impressed with Odo, Mora was now beginning to hope, even to believe, that he might be able to work exclusively with Odo once again.
It was with these cheerful thoughts that he was running his customary bioscans on Odo’s signature tonight, when the shape-shifter assumed his humanoid form and began to ask questions.
“Doctor Mora, have I been here for a long time?”
Mora was a bit taken aback by the question, until he recognized that Odo might not have any concept of what was meant by “a long time.” Ten minutes might feel like a long time to the shape-shifter, or it might not feel like much time at all. They’d discussed the concept, of course, but it occurred to Mora that he’d never actually questioned Odo about his feelings in the matter. “What do you think, Odo?”
Odo looked away from Mora. “I am thinking, Doctor Mora, that I have been here for long enough.”
Mora had to stop what he was doing in order to reexamine and internalize what the shape-shifter had just said. The coordinates denoting Odo’s mass—many times greater than when he could still fit in a handheld beaker, so many years ago—flashed by on the screen of his padd, but it was as though he didn’t see them.
“What…could you possibly mean by that, Odo?”
“I would like to leave this place.”
“Leave?” Mora was so surprised, he laughed. “Odo, where do you presume to go?”
“I am very unhappy here,” Odo replied, and the tone in his voice undeniably reflected it.
“Unhappy! Odo, you have never given me any indication before that you were not happy.”
“Haven’t I?”
Mora took a step back. In a rush, he came upon the uncomfortable realization of what Odo was telling him; the many times that Odo had appeared to be sad, or even hostile. Mora had taken care never to acknowledge those reactions as anything but awkwardness on Odo’s part, a fumbling, perhaps, for the correct response, never to be considered at face value…but in his heart, perhaps Mora had known it. And yet, what could he have done? Odo was his life’s work. Mora had ignored Odo’s misery out of necessity. For a fleeting moment, it filled him with deep shame, but his own sense of self-preservation chased it away.
Odo went on. “I want to live as a Bajoran lives, Doctor Mora.” He seemed uncomfortable as he said it.
Mora spoke stiffly. “Well, Odo, I’m not sure if you know exactly what that entails. In fact, typical Bajorans…don’t enjoy most of the comforts that you and I do. It’s a harsh world out there, and—”
“Doctor Mora, I…do mean to leave.”
“Odo!” Mora exclaimed, feeling himself growing angry. The shape-shifter had never spoken to him so firmly before. “You aren’t ready to leave! Nowhere near it! You and I still have years of work ahead of us…many things to do…before you could even consider it!”
“But, Doctor Mora, there is no way for you to make me stay.”
Mora was stunned at what he was hearing. “Odo, are you trying to imply that you…would simply walk out, on your own?”
“You would not be able to prevent me from it,” Odo said. “But I wished to tell you before I go.”
Mora tried to steady his breathing. He was at least grateful that Odo hadn’t simply run away, but the very idea…that he somehow believed Mora would ever condone his leaving the laboratory. He raised his gaze to meet that of the shape-shifter, and Odo quickly dropped his own. He had learned humanoid expression just well enough to have picked up some affectations almost naturally, but still, he would never blend into the general population. People would always know there was something naively peculiar about him, even if he learned to perfect his humanoid form. He’d be lucky to last a week in the real world.
“Odo. You must reconsider. It would be very dangerous out there for you. If I could escort you into the outside world, I would do it, but you know I’m not permitted to leave the facility…”
“I am sorry about that, Doctor Mora. I wish you could leave, too.”
Mora saw, then, that Odo had felt even more of a prisoner here than he himself had. He could sympathize with his wanting to leave, but if there was any way to stop it from happening…
There isn’t. He’d worked with Odo long enough to know what his capabilities were…and to know that the creature could be surprisingly obstinate, when the mood struck him.
“Odo,” he finally said, “I must emphatically insist that you stay.”
To Mora’s chagrin, the shape-shifter merely shook his head from side to side, still not looking up.
“So. You would leave me. The only person who has ever shown you any kindness, the only person who cares about your well-being…”