“You’re an intelligent man, Commander. You tell me.”
“Easy. Plausible deniability.”
“Disavowal is more like it. You get caught, you were acting on your own.”
“How did I get here then? Wherever hereis.”
“You overpowered SI agents escorting you to Starfleet Command. Being in Qadir’s network and having recently visited Farius Prime, you knew of his plans and so decided to take it upon yourself to secure a piece of whatever it was Qadir was after.”
“But, unfortunately for me, Qadir’s people got the better of me, or the Cardassians caught on, and Starfleet is off the hook.”
“As good a story as any.”
A good story. Discounting the fact that Burke was Starfleet Intelligence (all intelligence agents were trained liars), Halak knew: Burke was a liar. Halak didn’t know howhe knew, but he did.
Staring at the ceiling, Halak felt the ship change around him and knew, without having to be told: They’d dropped out of warp. Halak pushed up on his elbows and swung his legs over the edge of his bunk. Burke would come soon. They’d go over the plan; she’d give him a chance to study the drop area and decide how he wanted to attack the problem of locating Qadir’s men and the portal, if it existed.
The faintest of vibrations. Footsteps. Halak heard the blip-blap-bleepof someone keying in the code to unlock the door to his quarters.
“I brought you something to eat,” Burke said. She held a phaser in her right hand, the tray balanced on her left.
“Thanks.” Without being asked, Halak jumped down and backed to the far corner as she slid the tray on to his bunk, keeping her eyes—and the phaser—trained on him the entire time. They’d gone through the same ritual twice a day for almost the last week, so Halak had it down. Odd behavior for someone who considered him a confederate, but Halak would have taken the same precautions. After all, it’s not like I volunteered.“I could use a shower, too. A change of clothes.”
“No problem.” Phaser still pointed in his direction, Burke backed toward the door. “I’ll have Sivek see to both.”
Looking over the items on his tray, Halak made a face: same monotonous, indigestible Vulcan tripe. “May I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“We’ve talked about the Cardassians and Qadir, what will happen if I get the specs on this portal for you,” said Halak, still inspecting what passed for food arrayed on his tray, “but what about Arava?”
There was a pause. Then: “What about her?”
“What will happen to her? If I cooperate, that is.”
“If?”Burke’s eyes were flat. “You having second thoughts?”
“No. But it seems to me that if you know so much about me, then you might know where she is, and how important she is to me.”
“And if we did? Know either? Both?”
“Can you get her off Farius Prime? Since I’m risking my life and all that, you know, for the greater good.”
“You’re risking your life and all that for your career,”said Burke. “Let me give you a suggestion. Do your job and don’t worry about anything else right now. You get those specs. Then we’ll talk.”
“But you’ll consider it,” Halak pressed.
“It’s not my decision.”
“You could put in a word or two. I’ve been cooperative.”
“As would anyone with the business end of a phaser pointed in his direction.”
“Yeah, but that’s now.How do you know I won’t try something later?Warp off, or give you phony specs, or something?”
“You won’t warp off because Sivek will be with you. I’m not stupid, Halak. And you stay with us, in Starfleet Intelligence’s custody, until we’re satisfied that the specs are genuine.”
“Fair enough. But you could still ask your superiors. Ask Batanides about getting Arava off Farius Prime. Otherwise, I won’t budge.”
“I don’t think you have many choices.”
“Screw that.” Halak slid back onto his bunk and crossed his arms. “And screw you. You get Arava off, or I don’t work. Period.”
Burke’s cheeks flushed. Her phaser-hand twitched. “You will.”
Halak laughed. “Or what? You going to shoot me? My career’s over, remember? Whether you shoot me now, or I get myself killed, or I refuse and get court-martialed and put in prison, it’s all the same. But if you lose me, you lose plausible deniability. So, manus manum lavat.One hand washes the other, in case you’re not up on your Latin,” said Halak, privately tickled that having Glemoor around was proving to quite advantageous. “You agree to my terms, or it’s no deal.”
Her brown eyes sparking, Burke stared at him a long minute. Halak returned the stare. Burke blinked first. “I’ll have to take it up with Command.”
“Great, you do that. Then I want to see a copy of those orders.”
“That may not be possible. We’re supposed to be in a communications blackout, Commander.”
“Don’t give me that. You’ve got narrow-band, secured channels. Use one. Hey,” Halak gave a disingenuous smile, “this is the missionwe’re talking here. Yeah, sure, it’s my career. But it’s yours, too, Burke. You screw up, and I’ll bet you don’t get to play secret agent again any time before the next star in these parts goes nova.”
The small muscles along Burke’s jaw jumped. She backed up, toward the door, and Halak saw her left hand come up, the fingers move as she keyed in the combination for the lock. “I’ll see what I can arrange,” she said then cursed when her fingers slipped, and she botched the combination.
Good. He was making her angry, and that was good. Anger made people feel pressured, and people who were pressured made mistakes. “That’s not good enough.”
“It will have to do.” Burke’s look bordered on venomous. She jabbed at the combination again, blew out when the lock double-bleeped, and the door hissed open. “I will talk to Commander Batanides. Perhaps we can arrange to get Arava and her son, Klar, off Farius Prime, and maybe not, Commander. One damn thing at a time, all right?” Without waiting for a reply, she stepped out.
The door slid shut. Halak stood quite still, hardly daring to breathe.
Klar.She’d said Klar.But she couldn’t possiblyknow about Arava’s son, orhis name. Halak had nevermentioned Klar—not by name, or in any of his personal log entries. It was too dangerous. But Burkehad known about him. Could one of Burke’s sources have told her? Someone who had infiltrated Qadir’s organization?
But wait. Her information was bad. She’d gotten things wrong about Arava. Yet she’d known about Klar, a boy about whom only three people, other than Arava, were in the know: Dalal, Halak…and Qadir. No one else knew. No one suspected. So the only way Burke could have known there even wasa Klar was either for her to have gotten to know Arava, very well—or to have set eyes on him herself. Or both. But she’d said to Garrett, at the inquiry: I’ve never been to Farius Prime, Captain.
My God, he thought, she’s lying. I knew it! She says she’s never been to Farius Prime, but she let slip about Klar.
“So what else are you lying about, Burke?” Halak whispered, out loud, to thin air. “Just who, or what, areyou?”
Putting conditions on things now, huh?Thumbing on the safety of her phaser, Lieutenant Laura Burke—whose real name was Talma Pren, a person with no rank in anyone’s military—jammed the weapon into a holster hugging her hip. Not going to do what he’s told?Talma stalked the short corridor from Halak’s quarters to a gangway that led to the warpshuttle’s bridge. Well, Halak wasn’t making the rules. Shemade the rules, and he’d damn well do as he was told.