McHogue answered. "It's the opportunity for Bajor to become something besides a glorified rest stop and maintenance center for the Federation. This talk of 'developing' Bajor is a giant scam, and you know it. The Federation gets control of the wormhole, and with it the access to the Gamma Quadrant, and the Bajorans get to wait on tables and maneuver fuel cells into position on the vessels passing through—we're talking your basic unskilled labor, Commander. Service jobs. If you were a businessman such as myself, I'd expect you to be more familiar with the principle that the real money in any enterprise comes from holding an equity position in it—real equity, and not just this nominal ownership that the Federation will allow to Bajor. Without real control over this station and the wormhole, there's never going to be a time when Bajor gets anything other than the thinnest sliver of the pie."
Sisko shook his head. "General Aur, if this is the line—the sales pitch—that has been used on you, all I can say is that he's completely misrepresented the intent of the Federation here."
Aur regarded the commander coldly. "Our Minister of Trade has stated some very convincing arguments."
"But they're totally absurd!" exploded Sisko.
"Is that so?" McHogue's dark eyes fastened onto the figure opposite him. "Then maybe you can explain a few things about your ongoing research activities here. For the sake of argument, let's just say that the Bajorans should be satisfied with the slice of the pie you're offering them; that their share of the revenues from the exploitation of the wormhole will be much bigger than what I've told them will be the case. Isn't it true, Commander, that you've already established that the stable wormhole that's been discovered here is not a naturally occurring phenomenon, but an artificially created one?"
Sisko couldn't detect what McHogue was driving at; he nodded slowly. "That appears to be the case; we've assumed that the intelligent creatures we've encountered inside the wormhole did in fact create it—"
"And isn't it also true that a large proportion of the Federation's research efforts scheduled to take place here at DS9 will be devoted to finding out just how the stable wormhole was created?"
"But . . . of course—"
McHogue sat back with a smug expression, as though he had just won a debating point. "You say 'of course' so easily, Commander. You don't even try to conceal the fact that this research regarding the wormhole is so obviously for the benefit of the Federation, and against the interests of the world whose property it supposedly is. The wormhole is Bajor's one remaining possession of value; its scarcity, its uniqueness, is what makes it valuable—and the Federation would like nothing more than to find out how to make billion more wormholes! Right now, the Bajorans own the only practical route to the Gamma Quadrant; the Federation's scientists could discover tomorrow the secret to creating a stable wormhole, and the value of Bajor's asset would be reduced to approximately zero."
"Well, Commander Sisko?" The general peered sharply at him. "What's your answer to that?"
In frustration, he struck the desktop with his fist. "You have to understand—the results of finding out the wormhole's secrets would be enormous. The benefits for every world in the Federation would be almost incalculable."
"Ah." McHogue smiled. "But Bajor isn't part of the Federation. Is it?"
"Not yet—but—"
"Nor will it ever be." General Aur broke into the discussion. "Not if we have any say in the matter. Even if the Federation's offer to us was legitimate—and I've seen no evidence that the Federation has our interests at heart any more than did the Cardassians—why should we accept it? Why should we become one among many, spreading the wealth that will come from the exploitation of the wormhole among worlds and peoples with whom we have nothing in common? It's far better—from our viewpoint, at least—to keep Bajor's riches for the sake of Bajorans."
"But there are things of value that you would get from membership in the Federation. The technology alone—"
"If there's anything we want from the Federation," said General Aur, "then we'll buy it from you. Because we'll able to do that."
"And just what do you think you'll sell, for Bajor to have kind of capital?" If the general wanted to discuss hard economic realities, then Sisko was ready for him. "There's a built-in limit to how much you can charge for access to the wormhole and passage to and from the Gamma Quadrant. A great deal, perhaps even a majority, of the traffic will be speculative in nature, voyages of exploration to see what's exactly out there and whether any profitable use can be made of it. That kind of investigation doesn't pay off for a long time. By turning your back on the Federation's assistance, you'd be condemning the people of Bajor to decades, perhaps centuries, of continuing poverty. After their having freed themselves from the Cardassians and having a taste of the possibilities that were just beginning to open for them, do you really think your own followers will have much enthusiasm for going down a path like that?"
"The Bajoran people are used to sacrifice, Commander." Aur folded his arms across his chest. "If such hardships were required for the greater glory of Bajor, they would see the wisdom of it."
"Fortunately for all concerned," said McHogue, "there aren't going to be any hardships. I'm not in the business of giving people a rougher time than they've already had. I'm here to make life better for everyone." His smile showed again, even more radiant. "You as well, Commander Sisko. From the little bits of time we've been able to spend together, have to admit that I've developed a certain . . . interest in some of your more personal concerns. I'd like to help you with those."
"I've seen the results of your 'help.'" Sisko felt his own glare tightening his face. "Let's just keep this discussion limited to Bajoran affairs."
"As you wish." McHogue's smile faded. "You want to talk cash flow? Fine. Because I've got news for you. The planet Bajor isn't going to be flat broke anymore, the way that the Federation has kept it. Bajor has something even more valuable than the wormhole to sell. Something that everyone else in the galaxy will be happy to spend their money on, starting right now."
"And what might that be?"
"License, Commander. Pure, unadultered license. The permission to do whatever one wants, and a place to do it in—as long as the bill can be paid." With one hand, McHogue made a sweeping gesture, matching the salesman's fervor rising in his voice. "We have here an unprecedented opportunity to re-create the long-neglected—but essential—aspect of the great frontier communities of the past. This is tradition, Commander; history—and humanoid nature—is on our side. We're talking unhindered personal anarchy here; isn't that what everybody wants? It's just that it's usually hard to pull off, I admit. But Bajor is in a unique situation for making this a viable commercial proposition. I wouldn't be here, otherwise."
Sisko gave a deep sigh. "This is what you've sold the new Bajoran government on?" He glanced over at Aur. "I'm surprised, General. But also a little disappointed. You've been dealing with a con man, a scam artist. This is one of the oldest money-for-nothing schemes in the galaxy. Megacasinos, pleasure emporia, worlds given over to satisfying every possible vice and indulgence—they all sound like a good idea at the beginning. But then they inevitably collapse, and the operators are left with nothing but a planetful of broken Dabo tables and empty brothels. When the cash registers stop ringing, and every other possible revenue source has been allowed to fall into ruin, it's not a pretty sight."