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“We don’t know,” Reoh said. “The others are gone, too.”

T’Rees lifted one brow. “Everyone?”

“Yes.”

“Did you report this?” T’Rees asked, turning to the comm.

Moll crossed her arms defensively. “We were just about to.”

T’Rees pressed the emergency sequence. “Then we shall delay no longer.”

At the Deng Observatory, the four cadets stood on the circular platform of the antigrav lift as it gently descended into the receiving station. Bobbie Ray and Starsa gazed over the side, but Jayme never wanted to see another drop like that.

From the maintenance tubes at the base of the well it wasn’t far to reach the computer rooms. In the darkened, vaulted chambers, the radio signals were displayed on screens in colored patterns moving across the recording graphs. Numerous digital sequencers flashed the numbers of incoming data streams.

This was the part Jayme had been waiting for, sneaking up on Elma and catching her red‑handed. Her tricorder was out, recording the activity in the room; it indicated there was a human female on the opposite side.

Jayme tried to stay in the lead, but her team had other ideas. They fanned out among the terminals, making much more noise than she had anticipated. “Psst!”she hissed at them, trying to get them to fall into position. But Titus didn’t even glance her way, trying to take the lead as always, while Starsa was apparently mesmerized by the shifting abstract images on a large colorful display. Bobbie Ray had disappeared. Jayme forged on, clenching her teeth but determined to make it work out in spite of her team.

Suddenly the lights came on and Elma stepped onto an elevated platform. The cadets froze, absurdly caught in their stalking positions.

But Elma was clutching the rail, her knuckles white as her gaze shifted desperately from one to the other, as if shewas one who was caught.

“What are you doing here?” Titus demanded, pointing an accusing finger up at Elma.

“I was working . . .”

Bobbie Ray hitched one leg over a console, leaning casually back against the monitor. “Most people work when the observatory is open.”

“Yeah,” Titus said, inching closer to her. “What are you doing that you have to sneak in here at night?”

Elma swallowed, unable to let go of the rail.

“You might as well tell us,” Bobbie Ray advised her, examining a long, curved nail before chewing gently on it to smooth out a snag. “Or would you rather tell security?”

“Stop it!” Jayme ordered, shoving Titus out of the way so she could look up at Elma. “We’re not here to make trouble for you. We want to help.”

Before she could coax Elma into revealing the truth, they were rudely interrupted by the arrival of the observatory personnel. Doors banged open on all sides of the computer room, and at least ten technicians and scientists poured into the control room in various states of undress, rushing to the various monitors.

“What happened to the dish?” one of them blurted out, hanging onto the keyboard as he tried to make sense of the data. “There couldn’t have been an earthquake–”

“Who are you?” another one demanded, torn between the distressing numbers on their equipment and the strangers in the control room. Exclamations rang out over lost data and destroyed projects.

Jayme’s quadmates were inadvertently herded closer together by the frantic technicians. Then one older scientist pulled her robe tighter around herself, twisting up the side of her mouth as she realized what they were dealing with.

“Cadets!” she snarled, as if that one word said it all.

The cadets were at attention in a line in front of Superintendent Admiral Brand’s desk. Jayme noted that the room was perfectly proportioned to allow all eight members of a Quad to stand shoulder to shoulder. The fact that this was probably a common occurrence didn’t make her feel any better.

Admiral Brand sat with her back to the windows, where the dawn’s first rays tinted the sky, casting her face into shadow. Only her silver‑white hair caught the light, swept high off her forehead, while her hands were calmly folded on her desk.

“Then I saw the alarm from the subsidiary arrays,” Elma was explaining. “So I knew something was occluding the focus. From the variance of the interference fringes, it had to be a deformation of the main dish. I’d seen something like it before when the plates were being cleaned, so I was afraid the staff was working the night shift. I hid until my Quadmates showed up.”

Brand turned to the three other senior cadets. “Cadet First Class T’Rees, when was the first time you knew something was happening?”

“When I returned to my room and saw that Cadet Starsa Taran’s medical relay was on alert,” T’Rees replied, the epitome of attention. “I signaled the Academy medical unit immediately.”

Jayme couldn’t help rolling her eyes. Of course T’Rees had ratted on them.

Brand noticed and turned her attention to Jayme. “You were fortunate the observatory personnel handed you over to Academy security without pressing charges of trespassing. However, they may still claim compensatory damages for the loss of data and injury to the parabolic dish.”

“That was my fault,” Starsa freely admitted. “I slipped off the walkway and slid down the side. Cadet Jefferson jumped over to save me.” She gave the tall Rex a surprisingly sweet smile.

Bobbie Ray gave her a deadpan look, obviously remembering her indignant wailing.

Admiral Brand wasn’t distracted. “That doesn’t explain why you were attempting to break into the observatory in the first place.”

The other three cadets looked at Jayme, deferring responsibility to her. Jayme haltingly explained the sequence of events, from the first few nights when Elma had taken her tricorder, to her realization that she was going into the Deng Observatory after it was closed. She left out the part about falling off the monorail, figuring it would only confuse things.

Brand turned back to Elma. “Why did you take Cadet Miranda’s tricorder?”

“Because it has a security override I could use to get inside the observatory.” Elma kept her head down, her voice so low it was hard to hear her. “I had to. I couldn’t work during the regular lab hours. All those cadets talking and moving around . . . I can’t concentrate, so I’ve been doing my summaries when everyone’s gone.”

“Oh, we thought you were a Bajoran resistance fighter,” Starsa said artlessly.

Whatdid you think?” Admiral Brand asked, her voice strained with incredulity.

“Jayme–I mean,” Starsa quickly corrected herself, “Cadet Miranda said Elma was tapping communiquйs with the telescope and relaying them to the resistance fighters.”

Jayme wanted to kick Starsa, but it was too late. “Uh, you know, because she’s from Holt . . . and I thought, it seemed to make sense at the time, why she was being so secretive . . .”

Elma actually raised her head, blinking rapidly as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. All of Jayme’s fantasy scenarios crumpled under Elma’s blank, uncomprehending stare.

T’Rees sniffed in disdain. “You should have informed the senior cadets in your Quad.”

“Well, since you bring it up, I tried!” Jayme shot back. “Remember when I came into your room last week? But you wouldn’t even listen when I told you it was about Elma. You said she had seniority since she was a last‑year cadet, and that I had to work my problems out with her!”

“That’s enough,” Brand ordered. The cadets immediately stiffened, facing the window again. “I believe this incident reflects a failure of your entire Quad. You are responsible for each other, and I hope that before the end of the year you will have learned that.” She paused, letting her words sink in. “A formal reprimand will be placed in each of your academic records, and you are all hereby placed on probation for sixty days.”