Second self, p.25
Second Self, page 25
“Were the dreams very bad?” said Raffi. “Last time?”
“There was just one,” he admitted, “but it was terrible. I’ve never told anyone about this.”
“You don’t have to tell me now,” she said, “if you don’t want to.”
“Perhaps it would be better if I did. It was the night before I came to meet you at the ruins…” He stopped to take a deep breath. Whatever he’d seen, it had clearly shaken him. “I saw Romulus on fire. Burning…”
“Oh, Sokara, no—”
“I thought at the time that it was because of all the images coming from Cardassia Prime, you know? That I’d transposed them into my dreams… Strange to think that this was prophetic in some way…” He shook his head. “So, I saw that… and then there were three figures—”
“Three?” said Raffi.
“All of them wanting to warn me. Telling me that we should withdraw, or else we’d die. When I woke, I tried to tell myself that it was nothing, that I shouldn’t pay attention, but it was like I could hear an alarm ringing in my head. I knew I couldn’t stop the advance that was underway—what, exactly, would I have said to Iloba?—so I did the only thing I could. I contacted you.”
“I’m grateful you did,” said Raffi.
“What were your dreams like, Raffi?”
“Same sort of thing. Three figures. First, they told me to cross the river, and then, later, to go no farther. And now, this time, the same three figures telling me to go on. When I was here, before, I didn’t know who they were. This time around, I think I do.” She did not elaborate, and Sokara—who knew the importance of secrets—did not ask. Watching his face, tired and anxious, Raffi wondered whether she should explain to him what was happening. Who exactly Garak was, and why she had come out again to Ordeve. But she hesitated, caught between wanting to trust a friend, and her instinct to preserve the confidentiality of the mission.
Eventually, Sokara said, “I think I’ll try to get some sleep now, Raffi. Wake me in an hour. You should do the same.”
The moment had passed. Soon enough Raffi was left alone to the stars and her secrets.
* * *
In the middle of the night, Garak made his move. Raffi was on her feet and in pursuit within seconds, but Toze got to Garak first. He brought the other man down heavily to the ground, knocking the breath out of him, hit him—hard—for good measure, and, while Garak was still gasping for air, brought out restraints and cuffed him. Garak lay on his side, coughing, his hands bound.
“Very impressive,” said Raffi. “For an archaeologist.”
“You’d be amazed,” said Toze, “at what you can learn on digs.”
Sokara, who was right behind Raffi (had any of them been even trying to sleep?), said, “Do you want to tell us who you are, Toze?”
“I’ve told you,” Toze said. “I have a professional interest in the history of this place.”
“Yeah,” said Raffi. “I think we know your profession. We’re all in the same business, aren’t we? Tell me, are you with the Koma Tath?”
“Well done, Commander,” said Toze.
“Oh,” breathed Garak, pulling himself up to a seated position. “How unfortunate. For me, I mean. Though perhaps for you too.”
“It’s definitely unfortunate for you,” said Toze. “I like my work.”
“So did I,” said Garak.
“What’s the Koma Tath?” said Elnor, who had belatedly joined them, and was rubbing his eyes. The only one of them who had been sleeping, apparently. Oh, to be young again, thought Raffi, and blameless.
“A special branch of Bajoran Intelligence,” said Raffi. “Their main task is tracking down and assassinating Cardassians who committed crimes during the Occupation.”
“What?” said Sokara, staring at Garak.
“Not always assassinating them,” said Toze. “Bringing them to trial is acceptable. It depends how much they struggle.”
Garak held up his bound hands. “I’m not struggling,” he said. “Yet.”
“And I’m not killing you,” said Toze. “Yet.”
“Let’s not talk about killing anyone, okay?” said Raffi. “You’re on Cardassian territory, Toze. Ordeve is under their jurisdiction. That means arrest, it means extradition—”
“If you think I haven’t killed Cardassians on their own ground before, you do not understand the Koma Tath,” replied Toze.
“It’s certainly what I would do,” put in Garak. “Tidier, that way.”
“Yes, you’d prefer that, wouldn’t you?” Toze looked at Garak with loathing. “But you? I particularly want to see you brought to trial. Everything by the book. Everything in the public eye.”
“Oh, I can’t wait,” said Garak. “I do hope you’ll let me change first. I have a number of very good suits that will be perfect for the occasion.”
“Oh, you’ll look different, I promise you,” said Toze. “You’ll be yourself, for one thing.” Some of his anger bubbled over. “Changing your face to look Bajoran? You’re sick—”
“I must confess I do feel somewhat queasy whenever I catch a glimpse of myself—”
“Okay,” interrupted Raffi, “stop this—”
“Might I ask the charge?” said Garak, ignoring her advice. “I’m prepared to admit that once upon a time I worked for the Office of Public Records, but in a very minor capacity. I’ve been a gardener—”
“When you were an undercover operative on Romulus,” said Toze.
“And a tailor,” said Garak.
“After you were sent into exile by your father,” said Toze.
“Oh, you have done your research,” said Garak. “You recall, then, what happens next? I put myself entirely at the disposal of Starfleet Intelligence. I provide information and, ah, other support that proves critical to winning the Dominion War. I assist in instigating the resistance on Cardassia Prime. I serve as an advisor under successive postwar administrations, most notably as ambassador to the Federation—”
“Oh yes,” said Toze. “You’ve done a great job putting a shine to your name. Not to mention covering your tracks.”
“And now I am retired. I live very quietly at home in Ses’erakh and Paris, reading, writing, and gardening. Sometimes I embroider—”
“You’re a former member of the Obsidian Order,” said Toze.
“Raffi,” murmured Sokara. “Did you know about this?”
In the gap before she replied, Garak slid in. “Caught in a lie, Commander?” he said, his lip curling. “I’ve never denied my association with the Obsidian Order.” He stopped himself. “In fact, I have often denied that association, but not in recent years. Does anyone even care these days?”
“You joined the Order around the age of seventeen. I wonder if you ever stopped. It’s not easy tracking down information about you, Garak,” said Toze. “You’ve destroyed most of it, and the Fire took the rest.” He gave Garak a cold smile. “Took so much with it, didn’t it, the Fire? But you’ve been a special study of mine.”
“How flattering,” said Garak, sounding bored.
“I’ve been investigating you for years. Monitoring you. Following you long before you took that face. Tracking you here, all the way to Ordeve. Why here, I wondered. This place, of all places.”
“It’s rather pleasant in the spring, don’t you think?” said Garak. “I should have retired here.”
“One of the benefits of working for Bajoran Intelligence,” said Toze, “is that our records are not only extensive—they’re extant. We know that the order to burn down the temple at Akantha was given by a young Obsidian Order agent. We know that he was undercover using the name Mas Gherrod—”
“Which, I must point out, is not my name—”
“We know that he matches your age, and your description.”
“Gray skin, spoon on head, devastatingly handsome. You realize that might be many thousands of people,” said Garak. “And it was all so long ago. You’ll need more than that if you’re planning to persuade the castellan to extradite me, or the Federation to receive me. And I have been such a good ally, you know, over the years—”
“You’d love to know what else I know, wouldn’t you?” said Toze. “You’ll find out, in time. I assume you came here to destroy whatever evidence might remain—”
“Now I see we’re moving to conjecture—”
“An old Bajoran, making a pilgrimage to a place he once knew. Nobody would ask questions. Everyone would treat you with respect. Help you on your way. It hasn’t worked.” Toze turned to Raffi. “Thank you for your assistance, Commander. If you’re willing to help in getting this man back to Merna, I believe you can consider your mission to Ordeve fulfilled.”
“Mission?” said Sokara, frowning. “Raffi, what is going on here?”
Elnor said, “Saba Taan isn’t Saba Taan. He isn’t Bajoran, either. He’s a Cardassian called Elim Garak. He was a—”
“I know who Elim Garak is,” said Sokara sharply. “I didn’t know he was on Ordeve.”
Raffi, conscious of Sokara’s eyes on her, swallowed and addressed Toze. “The Stargazer is on hand, if you need support.”
“There are Bajoran ships en route,” said Toze. “We’ll be able to transport him back to Ashalla.”
“You’ve not got permission to extradite me yet,” said Garak. “Or you didn’t, last I checked.”
“It’s only a matter of time,” said Toze.
“So many things are,” said Garak. “But a war criminal in the dock is worth two in the forest. Good luck getting that force field down without my help.”
“The Koma Tath is pretty good,” said Toze, “at cracking Cardassian codes.”
“Raffi,” said Elnor urgently, “have I said something wrong? I thought this meant everyone knew about the real mission.” He stopped, looking at Sokara. “Raffi, I’m confused. I don’t know what to say and not to say—”
“Real mission?” said Sokara. “Raffi?”
“Oh dear,” murmured Garak. “Commander, have you strayed from the path of absolute candor? Corrupting a young Qowat Milat!” He tutted. “And you considering a move to the Academy! Are you sure it’s the right place for you?”
“All right,” said Raffi roughly. “Toze, he’s your prisoner. Get him over there and keep an eye on him. We’ve still got a couple of hours before daylight. We should get some rest, and then decide whether we’re going on or trying to get back.”
Toze stood up and hauled Garak to his feet. “Elim Garak,” he said. “I am arresting you under section 6.2 of the Historical War Crimes Act. This law is recognized as a result of treaties between the Cardassian Union and the United Federation of Planets. You have the right to legal representation. You have the right to remain silent.”
For a moment, everything was still in the dark night of the Ordevian forest, as if even Garak felt that history had caught up with him and could not find words. He quickly rallied. “Such drama,” he said. “It’s like the good old days. I feel positively invigorated.”
Toze pulled him back to their camp and shoved him to the ground. Garak sat with his back against a tree, his cuffed hands in front of him, looking around with bright alertness. He definitely wasn’t going to sleep.
“Sokara,” said Raffi, lowering her voice. She was bitterly regretting not bringing him into the loop. “Please, let me explain—”
“Elim Garak,” Sokara said. “He’s the reason you came to Ordeve.”
“Yes,” she said. “I was asked to find him and bring him back.”
“But you needed a cover story. The refugees—”
“I needed a cover story, that’s true,” she agreed. “But I wanted to help too—”
“You used us,” he said. “Romulans are suffering, and you used us—you used me—to find this man.”
“I think accusing me of keeping secrets is a little rich coming from a Tal Shiar agent,” she shot back. “What did you expect me to do? Wear a sign?”
“You told the boy,” Sokara said, walking away. “That more or less amounts to the same thing.”
Elnor was still standing there, looking bewildered. “Have I done something wrong?”
“Oh, honey,” said Raffi, patting his arm, and watching Sokara leave. “You might be the only one here acting in good faith.”
13
Nobody went back to sleep. They sat around the camp heater, not speaking, not looking at each other—except for Garak, who seemed to be studying each of them in turn, a small smile dancing on his lips. Raffi, who had read his files (she wondered what Bajoran Intelligence had on this man that they hadn’t shared), knew that this was exactly the kind of setup that suited his modus operandi. He might be bound and tied, and in the custody of the Koma Tath, but he was still able to exert control over them. He was the one most likely to be able to remove the force fields—and he would keep this kotra piece held back until he could play it at the best moment.
Toze sat with a phaser in his hand and a padd on his knee, half working on it, half watching Garak. The rush of exhilaration that coursed through him after making his arrest had, to Raffi’s eyes, completely gone, and the reality of his situation—stuck in a forest with a dangerous prisoner who knew more than he was letting on, and far from backup—was starting to sink in. Was he trying to get past those Obsidian Order codes? Could he do that?
Sokara was sitting with his back against a tree, but he was motionless, staring out into the forest. Elnor sat for a while looking around, as if trying to work out what exactly was going on, but eventually sighed, and dropped his head, sitting like that, almost bonelessly, as the night wore on. Eventually, dawn light began to trickle through the leaves overhead.
“Okay,” said Raffi. “I guess we’re all awake. We need to make some decisions. Do we go on, see whether we can push beyond the next force field, or do we go back, and try to get down to Ghenic? I say we go back.”
Elnor, in a quiet voice, said, “I agree with you, Raffi.”
“I don’t agree,” said Sokara, so quickly Raffi suspected that whatever she had said, he would have chosen the alternative. “I don’t care why anyone else is here. I want to know what’s going on in this valley, and I want to make sure that my people can come here. If it means walking into an Obsidian Order trap…” He looked at Garak. “The Tal Shiar outlasted the Obsidian Order by decades. I’m not afraid of the traps laid by the dead.”
Garak snorted. “I’m almost impressed. No, wait. I’m not impressed at all.”
“Toze,” said Raffi. “I’m guessing you want to go back. Get on your way as quickly as possible?”
Toze didn’t answer. He was staring at the padd in his hand.
“Toze?” said Raffi. “Something the matter?”
“The force field is down,” he said.
So he’d done it. “Then we’re going back,” said Raffi. “Sokara, we’ll return—I promise. I won’t leave Ordeve until this is settled—”
“No, no,” said Toze quickly. “Not the one we came through. The one ahead.”
“What?” said Garak. “I mean, are you sure?” But the mask had slipped, however briefly. This was not something he’d anticipated.
“I’m sure,” said Toze. “Whatever lies ahead—we can go and see.”
“Oh,” said Garak, covering his slip with false levity. “Then by all means I vote that we go on. I understand that this might not be a popular position but I would much rather walk into an Obsidian Order trap than a Bajoran prison.”
“You don’t get to vote,” said Raffi. “Toze? How did you bring it down? Can you do that to the other barrier?”
“I didn’t do it,” said Toze. “So, no.”
There was a silence.
“It just came down,” he added. “If that helps.”
“Oh,” said Garak, delighted, “by all means we must investigate!”
“I agree,” said Sokara.
“I don’t,” said Raffi. “Toze?”
“What do you think might be there, Koma Tath?” said Garak softly. “What proofs or evidence might you find? The answer to what really happened at Akantha, perhaps?”
“He’s baiting you, Toze,” said Raffi. “Ignore him.”
“You won’t get back across the river without my help,” said Garak, to Toze. “And I want to know what’s up there. Shall we make a little detour, you and I? Obsidian Order and Koma Tath, working together at last. Or shall we go back and sit by the river, while you bang your head against those encryption codes, and I lie back in peace and watch the poppies grow?”
“We’ll go on,” said Toze.
Garak smiled, like a shark.
“This is a terrible idea,” said Raffi, in no uncertain terms. “Toze, there’ll be people trying to reach us. They’ll be trying to bring that barrier down—”
“They won’t be able to,” said Garak. “Believe me.”
“You’ve got your man,” said Raffi. “But you have to keep him—”
“Are you afraid, Raffi?” said Sokara. “Of what you might see up there? Everyone was always afraid, weren’t they? Of what was in the Caanta valley.”
“I was more afraid of what was chasing me,” said Raffi. “A bunch of bloodthirsty Romulans, set on murdering me and my colleagues—”
Garak was laughing, ever so softly. “Oh, I am enjoying this—”
“Enjoy it while you can,” spat back Toze. “Because all you’ve got ahead of you now is that Bajoran prison—”
Sokara stood up. “I’m going on,” he said. “You can come with me, or you can stay. But I want to know what’s up there.”
Garak stood up. “I’m ready to move on. Koma Tath? Shall we go?”
Toze got to his feet. He put away the padd and held up the phaser. “You first, skrit,” he said. Whatever the word meant—and it was Cardassian, clearly—it reached its target. Garak blinked, and swallowed, and something hardened behind his eyes.
“Such discourtesy these days,” he said, “among the young.”
“We are what you made us,” said Toze. “Get moving.”
