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  "Gladly, sir." O'Brien nodded happily, "At least there's something we can do for her."

  "As for her brother," Sisko went on, "he can stay in my quarters until we reach a decision about his sister. Jake won't mind sharing, I'm sure. That's settled, then. Now, about Dr. Bashir …" He was still looking at O'Brien, but his expression grew grave.

  "Still no luck with the long-range sensors, sir." O'Brien spoke as if this state of affairs was a direct attack on his honor. To him, it was. "Near as we can guess, the problem's due to a badly done patch job in the station circuits, something slapped together by the Cardies when they were evacuating and left behind as good enough. Which it was not." O'Brien's gut feeling was that the shoddy patch job had been deliberate, but he decided to keep his suspicions to himself until he could prove them. "The linkage feedback's caused the same situation with the runabout sensors, although on a minor scale."

  "Can we use the runabout sensors to locate Dr. Bashir?"

  "I wouldn't bet his life on it. The station system's much more sophisticated—by comparison, that is, although it's all a load of Cardie—"

  "How long will it take you to run down the weak spot in the circuitry?" Sisko interrupted.

  "I can't tell. It's not in the sensor circuits proper, according to diagnostics. We may need to run hands-on testing over every inch of the systems."

  "How long will that take?"

  "Working on it when we can—"

  "Working on it constantly, Chief," Sisko corrected him. "We cannot afford to be unable to locate our medical officer. I know I told you to work on sensor repairs when you could; now I'm telling you to give that job top priority. Put as many men on it as you can spare, but I want the long-range sensors functioning and capable of pinpointing Dr. Bashir on the planet's surface."

  "Yes, sir." Under his breath he muttered, "It can wait, it can't wait … I wish some people would make up their minds."

  Sisko either did not hear or knew when to overlook his chief of operation's remarks. "Lieutenant Dax, I'd like you to escort Talis Cedra to meet me at the Replimat. I think that will be a less threatening environment where he and I can get acquainted. Jake is supposed to meet me there after class, too. The boys should get to know each other if they'll be living together." He sat back. "That's all, everyone. Dismissed. Oh, except for you, Major Kira."

  As the others left the office, Sisko's chair swiveled to face his Bajoran liaison officer. "Major Kira, I need your help in finding Dr. Bashir. I want you to contact the appropriate authorities on Bajor. I want a full description of Dr. Bashir transmitted with instructions to detain him and notify us the moment he's found."

  "With all due respect, sir, you make him sound like a criminal," Kira returned. "Is it fair to treat him like a fugitive from the law? In my opinion, he's to be commended. The Federation came to Bajor and talked about making things better, but all I see you doing is playing political games with the provisional government. Dr. Bashir is out there helping people, not politicians. He's dealing with a problem hands-on, and you want to call him off. I say you ought to follow his example, not stop him."

  "Dr. Bashir is acting alone, with no more authority for his actions than a deliberate misinterpretation of orders and a blind conviction that he's doing the right thing," Sisko answered.

  "Do you think what he's doing isn't right?" she challenged him.

  "If Dr. Bashir were only responsible for himself, I'd be his biggest admirer," Sisko confessed. "As this station's medical officer, he also has a responsibility for the health and well-being of every person aboard DS9. When he accepted that post, he gave up the luxury of following whatever dream—no matter how noble—takes his fancy."

  "What's wrong with independent action in a good cause?"

  "Need I remind you, Major, that the reason your world is so politically fragmented is due to a host of Bajorans, each convinced he alone is doing the 'right' thing for Bajor?"

  Kira's mouth shut tight. For a time she and Sisko exchanged hard stares. At last she said, "Whatever you think of his actions, Dr. Bashir's convinced they're right. When we do find him, will you be able to persuade him to give up the choice he's made?"

  "I hope so," Sisko replied. He pushed back in his chair. "He's too good a man to lose, even to a dream."

  Jake Sisko and his best friend, Quark's nephew Nog, walked along the Promenade, heading for the Replimat. "Why do we have to waste our time with this Bajoran?" Nog demanded, doing a little dance around the commander's son as they passed the various brightly lit shops and kiosks. "I'm not like you, hu-man! I don't have time to kill. My father expects me back at Quark's Place in an hour to help him clean the holosuites. I don't want to spend it nursemaiding some little nobody."

  "I told you before, Nog," Jake said with the air of one who has gone over the same ground too many times already. "This is a favor for my dad. Cedra needs kids his own age. He's a refugee—"

  "I know, I know! You'd be surprised how much I know. What, you think maybe I didn't hear you?" The Ferengi's sarcastic grimace showed off a double row of small, sharp teeth. It was unthinkable for anything to elude Nog's hearing; Ferengi males were almost literally all ears. ("The better to hear opportunity knocking," as Nog's lobe-proud uncle Quark was fond of saying.) "Refugee, hunh! That means he's even poorer than us." He fell into a sulk. Then a spark of hope touched his wrinkled face. "I don't suppose your father gave him some pocket money to share? As part of this favor?"

  "I don't know; maybe."

  "I'll bet he did. And poor—what's his name?"

  "Cedra."

  "Right. Poor Cedra probably never saw so much money before in his life. He won't know what to do with it. He'll be an easy mark for every sneak and swindler aboard DS9. Jake!" Nog planted himself right in front of young Sisko and seized his shoulders. "Do you realize what this means? We have to help the boy! Without our expert advice, he's in danger of squandering your father's generous gift. We wouldn't want that to happen."

  "We wouldn't?" Jake said, trying not to snicker. He knew his friend too well.

  Nog assumed a look of dramatic shock that would have made his uncle proud. "I'm surprised at you! Of course we wouldn't—we couldn't allow Cedra to be taken advantage of. It would be a violation of hospitality. We Ferengi have a universal reputation for being perfect hosts."

  "Do you?"

  "Absolutely." Nog's smile almost split his face. "Especially when our guests can foot the bill. Come on, I want to meet our new friend." He grabbed Jake's wrist and towed him rapidly down the Promenade.

  Not too long after, Nog had ample reason to reevaluate his plans for Talis Cedra and any funds the Bajoran boy might command. He was lying facedown on the Promenade with Cedra pinning him to the floor at the time.

  "Not the ears! Not the ears!" Nog wailed, wriggling and twitching in a desperate attempt to shield the most prized and sensitive portion of his anatomy. "Jake, make him let me up!"

  Jake spread his hands and tried to look regretful. "I can't do that, Nog. It's between you and him. You told me to keep out of it."

  "That was before this crazy fool knocked me down over a harmless little remark I—" He cast a nervous look up at Cedra. "Nothing personal," he said.

  "You take back what you said about my sister and I'll let you up," Cedra growled. "Not before. You don't, and I'll fix it so you have to do all your listening through your puny, pathetic little nose."

  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I ever doubted your sister, I'm sorry I ever called your sister a phony, I'm sorry I ever heard of your sister! Is that enough?" the Ferengi gibbered.

  Cedra sat back on Nog's rump, his knees still pinning Nog's arms helpless. "Buy us all something tasty and I'll let you know."

  Nog's eyes doubled in size. "Buy?"

  Cedra leaned forward and got an uncomfortable grip on Nog's ears. "Buy."

  A short while later, the three boys were ensconced under a high-legged table in one of the holosuites at Quark's Place. A picnic of delicacies, plundered from the esta
blishment's stores, lay in ruins before them. Cedra wiped sugary syrup from his mouth and sighed, content. "That was delicious, Nog. Any more?"

  "No." The Ferengi was sullen and grumpy. "And when my uncle finds out I took so many of them, I'll catch it."

  "If you only took 'so many' that means there are more," Cedra reasoned. "Go back and get them."

  "I won't," Nog maintained. "These are a delicacy—Taxman's Delights don't come cheap! I'm not putting my neck on the line any further."

  "But Nog—" The Bajoran threw one arm around the Ferengi's shoulders. "I thought we were friends." The arm tightened sharply into a choke hold.

  "That's enough, Cedra." Jake yanked the Bajoran away from Nog. "It was one thing when you two were fighting on the Promenade and you were lucky Constable Odo didn't catch you. Nog deserved it then."

  "What did I do?" the Ferengi implored, awash in wounded innocence. "Why does everyone always blame me?"

  "I think it was the part where you said Cedra's sister was the best con artist you'd ever heard of," Jake said mischievously.

  "Stupid hu-man! That's a compliment!" Nog yelled. "Look, my family's been aboard DS9 for years, since before the Cardassians left, right?" Jake nodded; Cedra's face remained unreadable. "We know what it's like down on the surface. We hear plenty. You wouldn't call me a liar if I said there's hundreds of kids like you and your sister down there, would you?" he appealed to Cedra.

  "It's the truth," the Bajoran said.

  "You bet it is! Hundreds of 'em, and does anybody care? Does anyone even mention they're down there?"

  "You've got to admit, Nog," Jake said, "the kind of people who come to Quark's Place aren't going to be talking about war orphans."

  "Not just them." Nog glowered at Jake. "Everyone. The shopkeepers, the maintenance crews, even the Bajoran monks in the shrine, none of them said a word about the kids."

  "Maybe not where you'd find out about it."

  "Not me, but Uncle Quark?" Nog's triumphant laughter sounded like a bark. "If he didn't hear it, it was never said."

  "It's all right," Cera said calmly. "We're used to being ignored."

  "Then get unused to it, Bajoran!" Nog responded. "I knew something was up as soon as you and your sister came aboard. Two orphans out of hundreds—why you? What made you two so special? Then I hear that it's not you anyone cares about, it's your sister."

  "What did you hear about my sister, exactly?" There was an ominous note in Cedra's voice. Jake saw the boy's hands start to tighten into fists.

  "Nothing." Nog popped the remains of a half-eaten Taxman's Delight into his mouth and chewed noisily. "Just that she was so special no one could know the reason why she was so special. My uncle sent me to the infirmary with a fruit basket for her—just a nice gesture of welcome. Constable Odo chased me halfway back to Quark's Place. It just seems funny to me. Like a big, fancy package, tied up with shiny paper and bows—who's to know if there's anything inside it but air?"

  "You really don't like your ears, do you?" Cedra growled.

  Nog looked unconcerned, but he put a little distance between himself and the Bajoran. "Did I say your sister was full of air? You take everything personally, that's your trouble. Back home, we've got a story about two brothers. One day, the younger one showed up with a bottle and told his older brother he'd captured a gragol—"

  "A what?" Jake asked.

  "A wish-spirit. I didn't say this was a true story. Shut up and let me finish. The older brother wanted to see proof. He told the younger brother to uncork the bottle and make the gragol grant him a wish, but the younger brother said that this was a very small gragol and it had only one wish left to grant. As soon as the bottle was uncorked you had to make the last wish fast or the gragol would vanish and you'd have nothing. So he convinced his older brother to buy the bottle from him—"

  "—and it turned out to be just an empty bottle," Cedra finished the story for him. "Is that what you're saying? That my sister's as big a phony as the younger brother in that story?" He crouched, getting ready to throw himself onto Nog again.

  The Ferengi made a guttural sound of disgust. "You don't know how to listen. No, that's not what happened. There really was a gragol in the bottle, but when the older brother opened it to make his wish he forgot one thing: Whenever he got excited, he always stuttered! The gragol flew away while he was still saying 'I w-w-wish I had a b-b-b-billion b-b-b-bars of g-g-gold-p-p-p-pressed latinum.' So he took the empty bottle and broke it over his younger brother's head, got his money back, and told everyone that his younger brother was a swindler—an incompetent swindler." It was obviously the ultimate Ferengi insult.

  Cedra sat down and looked totally bewildered. "I don't get it."

  "It's a Ferengi thing," Jake whispered to him. "I think it means that he's not insulting your sister unless he's sure it's safe. Just eat your cake and forget about it."

  With a second wind, the three boys soon demolished what was left of the stolen feast. When crumbs and empty cups were all that remained, Nog said, "My father thinks I'm working in here. You two help me. If we get done fast I'll show you something fun."

  "Fun?" Cedra was interested already.

  Nog's tiny eyes sparkled. "Ever seen a holosuite, Bajoran?"

  "Come on, Nog, if we turn on this suite, we're all going to get it from your uncle and my dad," Jake protested.

  "I'm not going to turn on that kind of program," Nog sneered.

  "What kind?" Cedra was really interested now. Jake leaned over and whispered all he knew of the holosuite's potential delights. Cedra's eyes grew wider and wider the longer Jake spoke. "Naked?" he gasped. "Seven? In a pool full of what?"

  "Anything you want." Nog folded his arms across his chest proudly. "My uncle Quark spared no expense on this system. It's easy to program and there are no limits. Look, I'll show you." He scampered over to a panel by the door and revealed a keypad. A few taps of his fingertips, a few commands spoken aloud, and a tall, statuesque, bejeweled, nearly naked Bajoran redhead was standing at his side, her arms draped around him in loving embrace. She bore more than a passing resemblance to Major Kira.

  "Want one?" Nog offered, showing all his teeth.

  Cedra's face went bright red and he turned away.

  "Better cancel her, Nog," Jake cautioned. "We're not supposed to be fooling around with the holosuite controls."

  "Coward." The Ferengi sneered, but he dispatched the redhead to invisibility. "Even if Uncle Quark did catch us, I was only trying to teach our new friend how to use a hologram projector. He is allowed to use the holosystems, isn't he?"

  "The holosystems?" Cedra's color was back to normal and he was attentive once more.

  "Like this place, only with different program options than the ones Quark's got," Jake explained. "There are hologram system ports in our classroom and in some of the shops, and Dad says Chief O'Brien's installed a small one in Ops, too, but they're nothing like this one."

  "If they were, customers wouldn't pay us so much to get in here," Nog gloated.

  Cedra studied the control panel on the wall. "Tell me more …" Jake and Nog did so gladly. The two friends found themselves vying to give the Bajoran as much information as they could. Something about Cedra's expression promised them a very rich return on their investment. Jake in particular thought he recognized it: it was the same gleeful look of mischievous anticipation he'd seen facing him in the mirror just before he went along with one of Nog's schemes.

  Makes sense, I guess, he thought. It gets kind of boring here, sometimes. Even getting in trouble's better than more of the same, and there's always the chance we won't get caught. Besides, I'll bet this is the first time in Cedra's life he's been able to just relax and have some fun. Look at him! He's thinking up something good right now; I'd bet on it.

  Then Cedra spoke, and as Jake listened he realized that his bet was about to pay off bigger than he'd ever dreamed.

  "Miles! Thank goodness you're here!" Keiko cried, seizing her husband's arm and drag
ging him into the classroom.

  "I came as soon as you called," he panted. "I was flat on my back halfway down an access channel when—" The words froze on his tongue.

  There, in the middle of a classroom full of innocent children, stood a fully armed and armored Cardassian warrior. He strode between the desks, glowering at them fiercely. The ghastly face with its heavily pronounced ridges of bone and ropes of muscle looked familiar.

  "Gul Dukat," O'Brien breathed, naming the former Cardassian commander of Deep Space Nine. "What the hell is he doing here?" He reached for his comm badge to summon help.

  Keiko's hand closed over his, preventing him. "He's our astronomy lesson," she said. She didn't sound amused.

  "He's what?" Before Miles could get an answer, the Cardassian lord stopped in front of a desk occupied by a very young Bajoran girl. He loomed above her like a wave about to come crashing down. Her eyes and mouth were three perfect circles of awe as she watched him raise his fists high above his head—

  —and execute a dainty pirouette in place while a frilly pink tutu blossomed at his waist. Prancing and mincing on tiptoe, Gul Dukat sang a song declaring that he was just a little kata-bunny in the sunshine. The class rocked and howled with laughter.

  "He was supposed to be a holographic projection of the wormhole," Keiko said grimly.

  "Uh?" O'Brien was incapable of speech.

  "Miles, this is serious. "She shook him. "I can't cancel the image or override the program. The children have gone wild. I want this stopped and then I want to know who's responsible for it."

  "Oh." Miles was still staring at the twirling Cardassian. "Um … I'll fix it right away." He dashed out of the classroom before he, too, exploded with laughter.

  Security Chief Odo paced slowly back and forth before the three boys awaiting their fate in his office. "A Bajoran couple, having rented one of your uncle's holosuites for a special occasion, is suddenly surrounded by Klingons singing opera," he announced, glaring at Nog.

  Jake looked at the floor. Nog squirmed. Cedra remained standing tall, meeting Odo's eye steadily whenever the shapeshifter looked his way.