“Just make sure Ensign ch’Thane takes us to the rendezvous.” He refused her attempts to engage him.
Ezri leaned over, speaking so only Jeshoh could hear her. “Keren’s exhausted. This day has taken a toll on her.”
“We’ll be done soon enough.”
Now to induce doubt about the viability of his choice.“I wouldn’t count on that. You and I have both been in negotiation situations. They can drag on and on.” Ezri shrugged, stole a glance at Jeshoh who seemed to be listening. She continued, “Your contact could back out at the last minute—the Cheka could change their minds about the deal and demand higher payment. And then there’s the question of how to get back to Vanìmel without the defense forces on Luthia coming after you. We could be on the run for a while.”
“We can handle it,” he said stubbornly. Distracted, he twirled the weapon around his fingers.
“But if you’re on the run, you won’t be able to bring the Cheka weapons back to the underground.”
Jeshoh hesitated. “We’ll find a way.”
“And Keren? She doesn’t deserve to never be able to return to Vanìmel.”
“We would be free. Together.”
“Until when? Until my commander and the Defiantcatches up with you? Until the Saganflies into a Cheka web weapon and you’re cooked? And then there’s the Yrythny military who will hunt you down.”
“When we’re done, I’ll leave you and Shar somewhere. Your commander can find you.”
Ezri watched Keren, flaccid and pale, in the front seat, her chin propped on her hands, her shoulders slumped. He had to see what his actions were costing her.Believing she’d found a wedge to pry open Jeshoh’s defenses, Ezri resolved to persist. “Oh, I know I’ll be fine. And so will Shar, but what about Keren? Look what this situation is doing to her. It’s a lot of stress. Especially since I know she’s coming into her fertile cycle soon.”
“There will be other seasons. If all goes according to plan, next year Keren and I will be able to go into the water together, without hiding.”
“If you live that long,” Ezri muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing.” She considered the flight controls, trying to figure out how much time she had to devise an alternative plan. If she couldn’t convince him to give up his scheme willingly, she would use force. At their present course and speed, she guessed they had 10 minutes before circumstances required she act decisively.
“Say it,” Jeshoh persisted.
He’s listening, at least. I need to keep talking.“The odds are against Keren surviving this adventure you’re taking her on. The Sagancan’t travel indefinitely without refueling. And without energy, life support will dwindle, and the replicators won’t work. Then there’s the problem of living on the run. The fugitive lifestyle is hard and for you to choose it for her…. But I’m certain you’ll find a way to make it work.” She shrugged and offered him a wan smile.
He fixed his attention on Ezri for a long moment. She remained composed under his scrutiny, saying nothing further.
Without a response, he vacated his seat and approached Shar, though he kept his weapon trained on Ezri. “Shar, a shuttle will launch from the Avaril.When the shuttle crosses over from the Avarilto the Cheka warship, my contact will instruct us where to transport the eggs.”
He’s still planning on carrying out the trade, but he doesn’t sound quite as confident as he did at the start.Ezri still needed to know how the exchange was supposed to happen. If needs be, at the last minute, she would risk changing courses. “I’m curious—are you going aboard the Cheka ship, Jeshoh?” she said smoothly. “Or are you supposed to transport the eggs to them and they in turn will transport the weapons to you? Or is there another ship that’s taking the weapons?”
Jeshoh appeared legitimately startled by Ezri’s question. “I—I—I don’t know. I was supposed to receive my instructions when I arrived.”
“I’m not trying to tell you what to do, but open-ended deals usually end badly. Too much room for a double-cross.”
“That won’t happen.”
“Yeah. But you don’t know for sure. Think about Keren, Jeshoh. We should transport her to the Avaril.At least she’d have a better chance of getting out of this alive.”
Twisting to consider his lover, Jeshoh’s weapon hand bobbled. Ezri thought she might be able to wrest it from him, but if she failed, he wouldn’t listen to anything else she said. She elected to be patient; the Sagan’scause was better served if she hung back, waited, and watched.
“Shuttlebay doors on Avarilare opening,” Shar announced.
But not for long. Either Jeshoh would choose or she would.
18
Other than the few naps that interspersed her reading, Kira worked through dawn and into the morning hours, both watching the Promenade cleanup efforts proceed from monitors in ops and reading the negotiation transcripts. Considering the edginess suffusing the station, she was thankful she had an office where she could sequester herself with a desk full of work. The Promenade merchants had contacted her every half hour, wanting updates, complaining about broken merchandise or malfunctioning equipment. Several vedeks had protested in person, resenting the cancellation of shrine services. Parents, spouses, children and lovers affiliated with anyone involved in the fight worried about the well-being of their loved ones. Kira could say, conclusively, that the only people unquestionably happy today were Thriss, whose capable assistance had prompted Dr. Girani to ask if she’d accept regular shift assignments in the infirmary for the duration of her stay, and the children, for whom school had been cancelled.
Reports to Akaar and the first minister had gone as well as she could have hoped. While Akaar had focused on the long-term, probable outcomes following such an outpouring of hostility, Shakaar saw the night’s disturbance more like a field commander would see any turn of luck that went against his forces, be it bad weather, inaccurate intelligence or unforeseen cunning on the part of the enemy. He went into counterattack mode, immediately strategizing as to how Bajor would hurdle this latest obstacle. His predictable unhappiness increased when he heard the number of Militia personnel involved in the fight. A Militia Internal Affairs officer was ordered to report to Deep Space 9 to review the individual cases. The officer would mete out whatever disciplinary actions were called for, saving Kira from the detestable task. Now that it was approaching noon, she was due to brief Shakaar, in person.
While waiting in the antechamber to his office, Kira made distracting small talk with Sirsy. She had spent the last hour trying to formulate the best way to present what she’d concluded from her night’s reading—that Macet’s concerns were founded in fact, not supposition. Almost from the start, Asarem’s approach had been to block rather than negotiate; she refused to budge on any point, even those already conceded in the postwar Accords.
As soon as Minister Kren exited, Kira ventured in to see Shakaar. With his usual energy, he bounded about his office, loading up a travel bag that lay open on his desk. Monitors running newsfeeds from Bajor and adjoining systems flashed breaking reports on screens lining the walls. From appearances, Shakaar kept continual tabs on many situations.
“Nerys!” he said with a smile. “Come in, come in.”
“You’re leaving the station?” Kira wondered if the Promenade brawl, combined with the vandalized conference room, had led his advisers to recommend that he return to Bajor until the station situation stabilized. An attack on Shakaar’s staff or offices—even worse, an assassination attempt—would send any peace efforts spiraling into a quagmire, possibly even derailing the transition into the Federation. He would hate having to run from a fight,Kira thought, remembering how eagerly he plunged into the unknown, dealing with whatever challenges lurked ahead without fear for his own well-being.