"Sit down, Odo." The Gul gestured toward a chair. "May I offer you a refreshment of some sort?"
"You know me better than that, sir." He sat stiffly, an extra tension locking his spine. "I require nothing."
"Yes, of course." Dukat poured himself a measure from the squat flagon on the desk. He swirled and studied the glass's viscous contents. "I do know you, don't I? Well enough to realize that you're a fraud and a liar. Your whole visit here is a sham. Isn't it?"
He was taken aback by the lash of the Gul's words. "I . . . I don't know what you mean. . . ."
"Please, Odo. Don't try my patience. Did you really think I'd be taken in by this pathetic charade? I know that you're perfectly aware of interstellar protocol. You should be; the rules governing contact between sovereign entities was one of the matters you handled for me when I governed the Deep Space Nine station. Perhaps you thought I'd ascribe this error to memory lapse on your part?" Dukat took a sip from the small glass. "Asking to perform an inspection on a diplomatic vessel . . .” He shook his head in disgust. "Really, Odo. That's such an obvious breach of etiquette . . . so obvious that it makes me wonder. I have to consider the possibility that it was a deliberate mistake. And that you were just trying to devise some way of coming here and talking to me." After the next sip, the thin smile showed again. "Talking . . . just like old times."
The only option was to go with Gul Dukat's theory. "Perhaps . . . you're right, sir." Odo bowed his head a carefully judged fraction of an inch. "I'm glad to know that you still remember my service to you." He lifted his gaze Dukat's watching eyes.
"Of course, Odo, I always knew that you were more than just loyal. Or, let us say, that your loyalty came from more than the personal relationship between us. Loyalty can come from intelligence as well, the ability to evaluate the situation one is in, and alter one's actions thereby. Loyalty can be a very fluid thing, can't it? Rather like yourself, it can change its shape and appearance, adapt to the necessities that intelligence presents to it. And I always knew, Odo, that you were an intelligent creature."
He could feel the Cardassian's gaze measuring him, evaluating and rendering a judgment behind the carapaced brow. That brought back memories as well, of the day-to-day tension that had colored his life before Starfleet had taken over DS9. Cardassians demanded loyalty, but rarely extended any in return; all other beings were expendable, their employment terminated in the most efficient means possible. Which meant that there weren't a lot of ex-employees of the Cardassians still alive in the galaxy.
Odo had conquered his fear, by the simple expedient of ceasing to care whether he lived or died. He was, after all, alone among the beings of the inhabited worlds; who was there who would grieve over his passing? If his manner became cold and unfeeling, his fluid nature made rigid and unbending, then that was the burden of the armor he had created to hide behind. And in which he carried the fear, conquered but not eradicated, reduced to a small chamber that he might have been able to conceal in one hand, if it had had any concrete substance at all.
And which had seemed to dwindle and disappear, when his home, the confines of the station, had become a different world, one without Gul Dukat.
The little chamber was still there inside him; Odo felt it open and a bitter tincture seep out. I always knew that you were an intelligent creature—he could hear Gul Dukat's voice again, sly and invasive, like the point of a knife searching for weak points in armor made suddenly fragile. Loyalty comes from intelligence . . . the ability to evaluate the situation one isin . . .
What if that other world was about to end? The one that had swept through Deep Space Nine like the warming spring that those born on real planets had sometimes told him about. And now Gul Dukat's winter, endless and harsh, would return.
And alter one's actions thereby.
"You seem to have become very quiet, Odo." Dukat's voice pried at him. "I wonder what you're thinking."
Loyalty can be a very fluid thing. Can't it?
He brought himself back from his grim meditations. "Just reminiscing, sir." Carefully, as though handling a toxic substance, Odo sealed the small chamber inside himself. Carefully, so that Gul Dukat had no perception of what was happening. Sealed—and crushed within his fist.
Gul Dukat nodded, as though deeply satisfied. "Come here. I'd like to show you something."
The Cardassian's computer screen was a translucent panel set into the desktop, on which monochromatic red symbols and images floated up like fragments submerged in dark water. Dukat worked his way through the levels of data, one fingertip sliding across the strip of control sensors at the side. The system's interface was familiar enough to Odo—the security office aboard DS9 had had a similar one before the Starfleet equipment had been installed.
"Take a look at this." Dukat leaned back from the desk. Standing beside the Cardassian's chair, Odo studied the panel. The lines and symbols seemed to represent an architectural design, but of nothing that he recognized. "What is it?"
"This is the overall layout for the new city we're going to erect on the surface of Bajor. McHogue City—I'm afraid our partner in this venture is not subtle about displaying his ego. Though he's already had to accept that the name has become shortened to 'Moagitty.' That has sort of a raffish sound to it don't you think?"
Odo made no reply. He reached past Dukat and touched the control sensors for the computer. The Cardassian made no move to stop him as he paged through level after level, the data appearing in more detail with each screenful. He absorbed and committed to memory as much as he could—location coordinates, elevations and plans, power-source specifications—without making any discrimination as to possible usefulness. That could all be sorted out when he returned to DS9 and made a full report to Commander Sisko and the other officers.
The last screen of data was an artist's rendering, done in the spare, thin-lined style that the Cardassians preferred, of what the new city would look like as one approached the main traffic entrance from the attached landing area. It looked like nothing that had ever been set down on the planet before, a assemblage of inorganic shapes and aggressive spires. The immense buildings lacked the rounded grace of what Odo had seen of the Bajorans' native architecture.
There was one other telling detail in the sketch: none of the buildings were shown as having windows or any other rneans of connecting to the outside world. They were sealed environments, a self-contained world turned in upon itself.
"It's going to be quite a thing," said Dukat proudly. His finger tapped upon the panel. "And it won't be long before it actually exists—the first cargo vessels bearing the construction modules are already approaching the Bajoran system. The buildings will go up in a matter of days." He smiled at Odo. "Rather like a military operation—you know how efficient we Cardassians can be when it comes to that sort of thing. Up and running, primed for all the races of the galaxy to come and . . . enjoy themselves. Moagitty will be very big—and important." Dukat's gaze sharpened as he studied Odo's reactions. "Much bigger than, say, Deep Space Nine."
Odo stood back from the computer panel. "I imagine it will be."