Chapter 5

Kehin scuffed his feet through the dust as he walked through the streets. There was no one else around. The only sounds were that of the wind and the faint skittering of voles climbing through the ruins. But he liked the quiet. It helped him think.

After returning to the clinic, he had planned to sit with Ibis and talk to her, decide what they would do when she was feeling better. But seeing the Ferengi again made him want to get away and forget everything for just a short time. He had left Ibis resting and struck out to roam the city, and he was glad of the decision. It felt good to be following his old routes again.

Returning to Coranum Sector had been his first choice. It wasn't home exactly, but it was the closest he had. He had first met Ibis there, after all, and that was one of the few warm memories he had of post-war Cardassia City. He had been crawling out of the remains of a grand house with two small loaves of bread in his hands. Climbing to his feet, he had found himself face-to-face with a small, pale girl who looked even hungrier than he was. Her grave expression and tattered dress showed her upper-class background; she was used to life much safer than the beggar existence she found herself in, and when she'd looked at him for the first time her eyes were wide with fear. His first instinct had been to clutch the bread to his chest and run for it, knowing that there was no way she'd be able to catch up with him. He couldn't remember exactly why he'd given her one of the loaves, but he had.

Since then they were inseparable. They'd found a building with one room still standing. Even that room was missing two walls, but it had a roof over it. That had been their "den," the place where they had slept and kept their tiny store of food, hidden from the street by the rubble.

It was also where he kept his stash of souvenirs, as he called the war artifacts he collected. He swung the cloth bag against his leg and listened to the sound of Cardassian and Breen military badges clanking against each other. He regretted giving so many to the Ferengi; he admired the badges and the histories behind them. He had found the really valuable ones in Coranum - it had been the home of a great number of important officers - while the others he'd collected in Akleen Sector in the remains of the barracks. He had made a trade of them, and he was good at it. There were items of value all over the city, lying forgotten in the dust, waiting for watchful eyes to find them; Kehin had roamed the entire city in his search.

Except for Torr Sector.

Most of the buildings in that sector were still standing, but it was the only place he would not go back to - could not to go back to. There he had spent most of his childhood, and there the Jem'Hadar had attacked the civilians hand-to-hand. He didn't want to see the familiar streets of his neighborhood bearing the marks of that massacre. He didn't want to see the small house where he'd grown up, with the tiny storage compartment that his mother had pushed him into when the Jem'Hadar forces had started breaking down the door. He didn't want to remember her screams as Cardassia's so-called allies had stormed into the house.

Kehin shook off his thoughts and looked up, and as he did he was surprised to find that he'd wandered from Coranum into the Tarlak sector. He stood in front of a deserted building he'd never seen before. Half of it was gone, blasted away by what seemed to be a particularly heavy Dominion attack. It looked almost as if it were a painting that the artist had only half completed.

At first, he scolded himself for losing concentration - the teachers at his school had repeatedly told him that daydreaming was for people of low mental discipline. He began to turn away, but the building caught his eye again. True, it looked to be empty and in poor condition, but it must have been occupied at some point. Since few people ventured out here to the edges of the city, it was possible that it hadn't been looted yet. He crossed the scorched front lawn and walked carefully inside, sliding his body through the large piles of fallen stonework. He started to move toward the undamaged rooms at the back. The ruined half didn't interest him; it was what was inside the house that mattered.

Or so he thought, until he found the hole in the ground.

It was right in the center of the plot of land, surrounded by the remains of the house. Kehin would have missed it completely if he hadn't knocked against the wobbly sheet of metal on top of it. He hauled this covering aside and gazed down the jagged opening. It was very dark below, but the darkness was not absolute; Kehin saw the faintest glow on the walls and decided there must be a lamp of some kind off in the distance. And that meant the opening led to a chamber underground.

His heart began to beat a little faster - a basement! Even in his short career as a treasure hunter, he'd discovered that Cardassians tended to keep items of value in basements where they couldn't be seen by prying eyes. Those were exactly the kind of items he was interested in. Before he could think any further, he was already scrambling to slide his legs into the opening. Trying to ignore the thought that he could be letting himself in for a long fall and a messily abrupt landing, Kehin squirmed through and dropped. He landed on what felt to be solid ground just a couple of meters down - and found that it wasn't a basement at all.

It was a tunnel. It was roughly carved from the earth, stretching for some distance into the foggy darkness. The walls were jagged as if a gigantic, coarsely-scaled skaarda worm had created it by slithering through the ground. Kehin couldn't help but take a step back at that mental image. Looking around him again he saw a wooden ladder propped against a wall, which at least negated his concerns about how he was going to get back out of here, but he didn't move towards it.

He still wanted to explore, even if this place wasn't quite what he'd thought it was. He'd been willing to jump down here when he'd thought it was a basement; why did its being a tunnel change anything? Perhaps the owners of the house had dug it, burying their treasures even deeper into the ground. Kehin was quite impressed at their cunning, whoever they had been, and mentally rubbed his hands at the thought of what he might find.

He began to walk uncertainly towards the faint glow of light. His footsteps sounded loud, tripping against unseen angles of stone. If there were any skaarda worms down here, they'd definitely hear him coming. I'm nearly there, he thought to himself, seeing the tunnel curve sharply to the right in front him - the light seemed to be coming from just around this corner. I'll just see what's here, grab anything I can sell, and then get straight back out....

His train of thought was interrupted as he rounded the corner. His jaw dropped open at the sight.

Kehin still stood in the tunnel, but in front of him was a room - a room like nothing else he had ever seen. It was dimly lit, the lamp suspended from a holder on the wall leaving the room half in darkness, half in light. What he could see, however, almost took his breath away. He took a step onto the floor and saw that it was covered in tiles, worn and faded but intricately painted. The walls were smooth and curving, in direct contrast to the jagged walls of the tunnel, and they were covered in the most wonderful mural.

It showed a feast, the biggest feast that Kehin's mind could imagine, right in the middle of some ancient city. People were crowded around a central table that was loaded with every type of food imaginable, including some delicacies that his parents had only been able to tell him about. Riding hounds painted in strong chocolate-brown ran about the table, trying to snatch what they could. And the people themselves - they were having the time of their lives, laughing and celebrating, drinking heartily from golden cups, wearing rich and brightly-colored robes. Kehin almost couldn't believe that they were Cardassian, but their ridges were clearly visible, painted in warm colors.

As he managed to tear his eyes away from the mural, he noticed something else - not only was there a grandly-carved stone table in the picture, but there was one in this room, pushed against the opposite wall. There was something on it, something that he couldn't quite make out in the flickering light. As if drawn to the object, Kehin stepped across the floor.

It was a perfect statuette of a honge, bursting from its sculpted nest with wings outstretched, made from dull red stone that shimmered in the faint light as if it were coated in tiny jewels. Every detail was perfect, right down to the predator's savage expression. Kehin's eyes widened; he had little doubt that this was something very precious indeed. The badges he'd collected suddenly seemed like worthless pieces of metal as he crept forward, his gaze fixed on the prize. He reached out to pick it up.

"You have good taste."

The voice was calm, but Kehin's hand shot back to his chest as if the honge had come to life and clawed him. Slowly turning around, his heart pounding, he saw a Cardassian walking toward him from where he had stood in the shadows. The man was a small figure, yet considerably taller than Kehin, and his eyes were piercing. Through his fear, Kehin cursed himself for his stupidity. He should have realized that someone would be down here, from the ladder by the entrance, the lamp….

He cringed as the man approached him, expecting a blow, and was surprised when it didn't come. Instead the man reached out and picked up the statuette, cradling it in the palm of his hand.

"It's a Hebitian antique, if you were wondering," the man said. "One of the last surviving pieces of its kind, made from a rare form of jevonite that contains flecks of diamond - that's what gives it the interesting shimmer effect. Unfortunately that makes it very valuable, so I can't let you have it." He turned a grin on the shivering boy. "Although I thought I'd let you try."

Hebitian - the word triggered a flood of school lesson memories in Kehin's mind: the ancient ones, the ancestors of every Cardassian. He realized now how truly precious the statuette must be, and just how much trouble he was in. "I'm - sorry," he gasped, willing his suddenly unresponsive legs to take control of him again. "I was only - I only wanted to - I didn't mean...."

"You only wanted to what?" A more dangerous tone crept into the man's voice. "Do you routinely break into other people's property?"

"No, I.... " Kehin swallowed, trying to fight his rising panic. Nobody else knew about this place, he was sure; if the man wanted to hurt him in some way, no one would be near to stop him. The truth exploded from Kehin's mouth before he could think of a good lie. "I find things and collect things and sell them so I can look after my friend and I saw the hole in the ground when I accidentally nudged the cover and I just thought -"

"Stop." The man held up his hand, and Kehin's voice locked in his throat. "You collect things? Such as?"

"These." Kehin held out the bag with a shaking hand. The man plucked it out of his fingers and opened it up.

"Wherever did you find these?" He held up a badge, a symbol of the Cardassian Union fashioned in burnished bronze and red - and Kehin had to stop his squeak of disappointment. That was his favorite one. "The insignia of a Sub-Gul," the man remarked. "Not an easy one to acquire, I would imagine."

"I found it in one of the barracks in Akleen." The dangerous element had disappeared from the man's voice, and Kehin felt slightly more confident despite the twisting feeling in his stomach. Maybe this person was some kind of enthusiast, possibly even one interested in buying the badge. He thought of Ibis depending on him and tried to calm himself.

The man looked at him, smiling. "Those barracks were completely destroyed. You did very well to find it."

Kehin hazarded a smile back. "I'm not very big. If you're small enough, you can squeeze into buildings and find all kinds of things. Badges mostly, but sometimes there's other good stuff - I had a disruptor once, but I had to give that away." He frowned as he spoke, thinking of the Ferengi. Then he eyed the man. "So … um … are you interested?"

The man smiled again. "Oh, very much so. But not in these." He let the Sub-Gul insignia drop into the bag. It hit the other badges with a clank.

Kehin took the bag as it was offered to him. "Then what are you interested in?"

The man walked over to the stone table and leaned elegantly against it. "What is your name? Forgive me; it was very rude of me not to ask before."

"Kehin." He moved a little closer, intrigued.

"My name is Korbath. Korbath Mondrig." The smile remained on his face. "I'm interested in the other things that you could find for me."

Kehin looked at Mr. Mondrig inquiringly. "Like what?"

"Little scraps of information - things that are certainly within your capability to find. The kind of things that one friend would find out for another. I'd like us to be friends, Kehin; I can promise you that it would be to your advantage."

Kehin looked around him - this man obviously had some kind of power in order to be in charge of a place like this. If so, then Kehin could see the ways in which such a friendship could work to the advantage of both him and Ibis. Maybe if he did the tasks he was asked to do, Mr. Mondrig would look after them both. They could have food, water, shelter, everything they needed. "I'd like us to be friends, too," he said with a grin.

"Excellent!" Mr. Mondrig looked pleased. "And I'm sure that when my friends see how good you are, they'll have a few tasks and such that you could do for them. Have you heard of the Directorate?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Well, that's who my friends and myself are - and we're here to help you, Kehin." Mr. Mondrig stood, replacing the glittering statuette on the table and smoothing his clothes. "This is most satisfactory. I trust you will visit us again sometime soon?"

"Yes - I promise," Kehin replied happily. His mind buzzed as Mr. Mondrig walked back with him through the tunnel, towards the exit and the clean air. The future suddenly looked very bright indeed.

Across the room from Bashir, Garak and Rekel were talking. Or, if "talking" wasn't descriptive enough, Rekel was raging and Garak was doing his best to keep her sane. In the cramped room that served as the clinic's information technology center, their voices echoed flatly.

It took an effort to push their conversation out of mind, but Bashir managed. After some concentration, their voices had dwindled in his hearing to a vague, though still disturbing, mumble of words. Gritting his teeth slightly, he kept his attention focused on the rapid input of data that he was feeding into the computer console. On the screen, a complex Fourier algorithm was plotted in a deceptively erratic series of waves. Some of the spikes and valleys looked off-center. He thought a moment and adjusted a polynomial. The waves shifted a millimeter or two, and Bashir nodded to himself. Closer to the mark.

As engrossed as he was in his work, he wasn't aware of the person approaching him until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He took a moment to blink the algorithms out of his head and turned to face a mildly curious Commander Hart.

"Doctor," she greeted, her voice neutral. She angled a glance toward the two Cardassians on the other side of the room, both still immersed in their argument, and she frowned slightly. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes," Bashir replied. "Thank you for being prompt, sir."

Hart brushed the pleasantries aside. "What do you need me to do?"

"You've done a lot of work with the subspace interference, am I right?"

"You know that as well as I do," the commander said. "There hasn't been any progress since the last time you asked, if that's what this is about."

Bashir returned to the console, waving her over. "Not quite. We may have stumbled across the answer, or at least part of it. Do you recognize this?" He indicated the screen.

Hart was silent for a moment. She nudged him aside and examined the waves more closely. "Looks like a subspace frequency. Unusual pattern, not Starfleet... or Cardassian." She gave him a skeptical look. "How'd you pick this up? The only subspace we've been able to transmit has been to and from the Nightingale, and that's been shaky at best."

"We didn't pick it up," he explained. "It's a Ferengi subspace signature, designed to be difficult to trace." Briefly, he considered filling her in on Quark's creative uses for the signature, but decided that would take too long. "I reconstructed it."

The commander looked somewhat amused. "You pulled this out of your head?"

"Well, yes."

She seemed to ponder that for a second, then shrugged it aside. "Okay then. What does this have to do with me?"

He pulled his thoughts back to the matter at hand. "It's a long story, but we have reason to believe that the communications interference is a deliberate block - some kind of beacon hidden in orbit, maybe."

"And you think Ferengi are behind this?" she said, and by her expression she found that idea as offensive as Bashir did.

"I'm afraid it's looking that way," Bashir muttered. "But it gives us something to work with. If you use this pattern as a target, do you think you'd be able to locate the signal?"

Hart examined the screen again. "I can give it a shot," she said after a pause. "No promises, but I'll see what I can do." Then, wryly, "It may take a few minutes, and you hanging over my shoulder won't help. I'll let you know if I get anything."

"Understood." Bashir managed a grim smile and stepped back to give her room. The commander turned her back and got to work, leaving him with nothing better to do than join the others and wait. He walked across the room to an empty chair and sat down heavily. Things didn't look much better over here. Rekel paced so ferociously, Bashir was amazed she hadn't put a boot through the floor.

"Visiting privileges," she all but snarled. "Visiting privileges! As if they deserve such a concession!"

Seated out of her way, Garak only sighed. He was examining a PADD, trying to stay calm for the both of them. "Deserved or not, I am afraid it's legal. Under the terms of our friend Nuvot's ownership, he has every right to grant that permission."

The doctor felt his own temper rising. He quelled it with an effort. "He told you the child market was unauthorized?"

"And we all know how much we can trust that statement," Rekel said. "At most, all they're doing right now is falling back and hiding the evidence. As soon as they think it's safe, they'll pick up right where they left off."

Bashir didn't have much of an argument, knowing the Ferengi as well as he did. He shook his head. "Evade," he mumbled.

Rekel paused just long enough to glare at him, confused.

"Sorry," he said, waving it off. "Tongo - a Ferengi card game. 'Evade' is a typical maneuver. Stage a retreat, protect the assets and put the opponent off guard for another attack."

"A thorough maneuver, in this case," Garak said. He deactivated the PADD and laid it on the floor next to his chair, handling it as if it were a dead rodent. "There doesn't seem to be a way around it. The contract is valid. As long as a Cardassian with rights to legal space territory grants them permission, we can't make them leave."

Rekel's eyes snapped fire. "They're stealing our children, Garak. They're defiling the very lifeblood of Cardassia. If there isn't a way around it, I'll make a way around it. I'll break their necks one by one until there's a way around it!"

"A tempting idea," Garak said darkly. "But these are Ferengi, not Klingons - they'll hide from direct battle, and they'll use legal terms to protect themselves. We're on their battlefield now."

"Then we have to find a way to turn it to our advantage," she insisted.

"I agree. It's going to be a matter of...."

"Doctor."

Bashir turned quickly toward Commander Hart's voice. She leaned intently over the monitor, keeping her attention on the readings. "I think I might have something," she said. "The signal is faint - I won't be able to hold it for long."

All three of them were across the room in a moment. Hart flicked an acknowledging glance in Bashir's direction, then toggled the audio controls. For a few tense seconds, there was nothing but static.

The hissing link grew louder, faded out briefly, and without warning there was a voice.

"...Unacceptable! Do you realize how much these shipments are worth?"

"I know, I know. I'm the one who made the deal in the first place, remember?"

Rekel stiffened angrily at the first voice. "That's him. Skal, Mondrig's 'associate.'"

Garak motioned her quiet. Interference obscured the transmission for a moment, and Hart readjusted the controls.

"...Isn't over yet. So we had to abandon one site - a loss, yes, but not a crippling one. We have other sources."

"Ah, yes - until you allow them to discover those locations as well!"

"I'm telling you, they won't! Bashir never would have known we were here if it weren't for the one brat that escaped, and we've ensured that won't happen again. The Human's a fool - they all are."

A moment of static, then "... agree on that point. His Cardassian friends are the ones that worry me right now."

"I wouldn't ... much of a threat. Mondrig is supporting ...."

Hart scowled, rapidly typing in commands. "I'm losing it."

"... Is under control .... nothing they can do."

The signal faded out. Hart lifted her hands from the console. "That's it. It's gone."

The tension in the room was almost palpable. Garak's face was blank; Rekel looked downright murderous. "Mondrig," she growled, low in her throat. "That vile...."

"Rekel." Garak's rebuke was measured, controlled, almost affectionate. It stopped her words short. He was silent for a moment, lost in thought. "We need information," he said. "Are the Cardassian computer networks in this building operational?"

Bashir gave Commander Hart a questioning glance. She nodded slightly. "Still a few systems I have to overhaul, but they're more or less up. You should be able to access the memory banks by now. Some of them are damaged, though."

"Thank you for your efforts, Commander," said Garak with a slight smile. "We'll do the best we can." He turned to Rekel, and his voice took a subtle commanding note. "Access the records in Central Command. There are files on every landowner on Cardassia, or at least there were before the war. Try to find out as much as you can about Nuvot. Account for every detail - leave nothing uncovered."

Rekel nodded crisply. "I always do," she said.

Chapter Six

After you read this episode, please Leave Feedback for the authors.