If only my ancestors had known better,Kutel Esad thought to himself. The dense, verdant forests that had once existed on Cardassia Prime were all but forgotten. Historians and archaeologists had an inkling of what the old landscape had looked like, and of course, the Oralians knew—because it was described in the Recitations. But most modern Cardassians were entirely unaware of the paradise their planet had once been.
Esad walked for a long time, making his way through the city’s orderly sectors, navigating the tangled streets until he came to a particular residential neighborhood. Esad had been to this part of town only a few times; most of his business was conducted in the center of the city, and he lived in the area where the Paldar Sector met Tarlak, near the headquarters of the Obsidian Order.
Here in Coranum Sector, with its old, stately, and grand houses, Esad found the residence he was looking for, climbed the many steps to the front entrance, and knocked politely. He was greeted almost immediately by a servant of the Reyar family.
“I have business with Yannik Reyar,” he said, and the servant, a young man, stepped aside with a deferential bow. Of course the family’s staff would all have an idea of what sort of “business” was conducted by Yannik Reyar, though it would have been unheard of for an agent to actually make a showing at his own residence. Still, Esad had no doubt the servants gossiped among themselves about any unknown visitors. Little did they know that an agent of the Obsidian Order worked among them—in fact, Reyar himself did not even know it.
Esad was greeted in the foyer by Reyar after a short time. He was a tall man with carefully trimmed hair and expensive clothes. His job came with a great deal of risk, and for that, he was well paid. He scrutinized Esad with a quizzical look. Reyar and Esad had never met, at least not in person, and no doubt Yannik was trying to place him from the scattered communiqués that had been delivered from the office of Enabran Tain in decades past.
“Do I…know you?” Reyar finally asked.
“Sir, I am here as a friend, to give you information regarding your daughter.”
Reyar’s face darkened. “My daughter,” he said softly. “Perhaps you had better come with me.” He gestured down the hall to a darkened, windowless chamber, surrounded on all sides by stacks of isolinear rods and old-fashioned books. Esad surmised this was Reyar’s personal office.
Reyar closed the door behind him, and Esad sat down, wasting no time in getting to the point. “Mr. Reyar, I know you have been looking for your daughter for some time, after she failed to make her scheduled appearance at the University of Culat…”
“It was Dost Abor,” the man said, without hesitation. “No matter what lengths the Order has gone to to cover it up, I know it was Abor.” He struggled to keep a handle on his obvious rage. “You are going to tell me that it was her lover, whoever he was, but I am no fool, sir. I know it was—”
“I am here to confirm your suspicions,” Esad said. “Indeed, Dost Abor is responsible for your daughter’s death.”
“Her…death…” Reyar said, sinking deeper into his chair. For a terrible moment, the man could not speak, and as the shock wore away from his face, he fought tears, fought them valiantly and in vain. Esad expected this reaction, but he had not prepared himself for it. He looked away, giving the man a moment to compose himself again.
“So,” Reyar said, choking on his words, “you have come to betray your colleague. Do you do this for revenge? Has the man done something to you, Mr….” he stopped, realizing that Esad had not introduced himself.
“No,” Esad said. “In all honesty, Mr. Reyar, I come to do what I believe is right. I acted as adjutant to Enabran Tain for many years, and I was often forced to do things that compromised my own values—for what I perceived to be good reasons. But the ultimate fate of your daughter is something with which I cannot come to peaceful terms. I felt that perhaps…in at least letting you know of her true fate…”
“You could absolve yourself?” Reyar’s tone indicated that he did not think so.
Esad hesitated. “Something like that,” he said. It was true that Kalisi Reyar had tried to betray Astraea’s location, but Esad himself was partially responsible for dragging Kalisi into the matter in the first place—for it was he who had brought her to the facility at Valo VI, the first time Abor had questioned her. For his role in it, Esad had always felt unsettled, that there was still a loose end that he could never hope to reweave.
There was a silence. Seeing the anger that was now replacing the other man’s sorrow, Esad thought he’d perhaps do best to leave. But before he stood, he added one more thing. “You may recall that Dost Abor was stationed at Valo VI for many years,” he said. “But that is no longer the case.”
“No?” Reyar said, looking expectantly to Esad for the rest.
Esad wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to do at all—in fact, he suspected it was not. But something within him insisted that he do it, whether to shift the blame away from himself, or whether he still had too much of the vengeful agent in him, he did not know. “You see…I put in a recommendation for Abor…that he be moved from Valo VI, and my praise has finally come to fruition for him. He is stationed right here, on Cardassia Prime,” Esad said. “In fact, he lives in the Coranum sector.”
“Here?” Yannik whispered. “The man who murdered my daughter is a stone’s throw from my own home?”
“Yes,” Esad said, keeping his own voice low. “He has assumed a new identity for his current post, per the orders of the new Obsidian Order head.”
“A fool,” mumbled Reyar, and Esad silently agreed with him. Not everyone could be the genius Enabran Tain had been. Tain was not a good man, that was absolutely certain, but he was a brilliant man.
“Dost Abor now calls himself Ran Lotor,” Esad went on. “He is posing as an educator.”
“Ran Lotor,” Esad repeated. “I don’t know him.”
“Well,” Esad said, standing up, “he will not be difficult to find, especially not for a man with military resources at his disposal. Perhaps you would like to go and…introduce yourself?”
Reyar stood as well. “I think it is a fine idea,” he said.
Esad did not linger, not only because he wanted to leave the man in peace, but because he was still not entirely comfortable with what he had set in motion today. As an Oralian, he was committed to a certain set of beliefs, but as a Cardassian, sometimes his personal feelings overwhelmingly overrode them. Esad was no stranger to this conflict, for his entire profession put his faith in constant compromise. As the servant let him out, he had to be satisfied with remembering that he was a complicated man, as all men were, and that his own personal feelings regarding a matter might sometimes take precedence over what he knew was right—and that sometimes the things he knew to be right could directly contradict each other. Today, he had chosen to act as a Cardassian.
20
Odo was making his regular rounds on the Bajoran side of the Promenade when another man fell in step with him, somewhat more conspicuously than Odo might have liked. He told himself there was nothing suspicious about having a friendly chat with some random acquaintance, Bajoran or Cardassian—though he was sure Dukat would have preferred that he keep his friends in the latter category.
The man spoke under his breath, which Odo felt made their interaction all the more noticeable. “Kira tells me you have agreed to speak to me.”
“Yes,” Odo said shortly, trying to remember this man’s name. He thought it was Gran. “Let’s do this quickly. I have other matters to attend to this evening.”
“At the start of his shift tomorrow,” the man said, “The chief of engineering is going to be implicated in some black-market dealings with a Bajoran here on the Promenade.”