chapter 48

 

 

The thick clouds and eerie light of an impending snowstorm seemed perfectly appropriate to the mood inside the hovercraft. Elise had been nearly monosyllabic all morning, and was even less communicative now. She stared straight ahead through the window, and Alison doubted that she was seeing a square meter of the countryside they were passing over. Which was a pity—the scenery was one of the reasons she’d built her house out here.

“I think we should stop by a store before heading back,” she said quietly. “You look great, but you probably don’t want to wear those clothes a third day.”

“Okay.” Elise glanced over. “I meant to ask, why don’t you have a full-range replicator?”

“I never really needed it. A food replicator is enough. Besides, I spend half my life at the office and another third at home. If I didn’t have to get out and buy clothes and basic goods every now and then, I’d probably never go out at all. So, not having a full-range replicator is essentially a strategy to ensure that I don’t turn into a two-dimensional human being.”

“I don’t think you have to worry. Though there’s something to be said for never going out.”

“Hermithood looking good to you right now?”

“Something like that.”

“That would be a waste,” said Alison, and was pleased to note Elise’s look of surprise. Humming quietly to herself, she piloted the craft through her favorite mountain pass and began the descent towards Denver.

 

 

-----

 

 

Having been alerted to the appointment as soon as it was entered into the system, Tuvok had come straight to the Detention Center after beaming down from the Tagus. Once again the ship had performed perfectly, returning him to Earth with an hour to spare. He’d had time to speak with Lieutenant Terrill, leave Captain Janeway a message, and complete his review of Melanie Hamilton’s intake interview. Now he sat in a control booth, watching a set of monitors as Elise Hamilton was escorted into the visitor’s room.

“The prisoner will be brought in shortly,” said the guard. “Prolonged physical contact is not allowed, nor may you give her any object. Since this is not a legal consultation, the prisoner does not have the right to privacy. Do you understand?”

“Meaning I don’t have the right to privacy either?” Elise looked around the room, then straight up into one of the hidden recorders. Tuvok was impressed that she’d found it so quickly. “Don’t worry,” she said, and he knew she was speaking directly to him. “I’m well aware that this little family reunion has witnesses. I’m also aware that you can’t use anything said here as evidence.”

The guard gestured toward one of the two chairs on either side of the tiny table. “Please make yourself comfortable.”

“Right.” The single word was laden with sarcasm, but the guard had no doubt heard that and worse many times before. He nodded and left the room.

Tuvok watched with interest as Elise prowled the confines of the small space, her behavior mirroring that of most Humans who were introduced into a locked room. They nearly always responded with an inefficient expenditure of energy, as opposed to Vulcans who would normally react by sitting and going into a meditative state. The principle held true even for situations such as this, when the individual in question knew the confinement was both voluntary and limited in duration. Intellectual understanding did not seem to affect the behavioral response.

Elise’s head suddenly came up and she looked toward the door, which opened a moment later. “Mom!”

As the guard closed the door again, Melanie Hamilton walked to her daughter and enveloped her in an embrace. “I’m so glad you’re here. Thank you for coming.”

“I’d have been here sooner, but this was the earliest they’d allow me to see you. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Actually I think I’m doing better than you.” Melanie pulled back and cupped Elise’s cheek. “You look like you haven’t slept.”

“That’s because I haven’t. I’ve been worried sick. And shocked.”

“I know. Don’t worry, it’ll be all right.”

As they separated, Elise gave her mother an incredulous look. “How can you say that? It doesn’t look all right to me.”

“Jack is an excellent lawyer,” said Melanie, pulling out a chair while Elise went around to the other side of the table. “And Starfleet doesn’t have much of a case. They’ve collected some circumstantial evidence, and the only direct tie they have to me is a single witness—who, as Jack points out, falls into the category of disgruntled ex-lover.”

“I don’t think I want to hear this.”

Melanie smiled. “Time to be an adult, Elise. Your mother does have an active sex life.”

“Mom!”

“Oh, come on. You think my life ended along with my marital contract? How did I raise such an old-fashioned daughter?”

“I’m not old-fashioned. I just think that certain things fall outside the category of appropriate conversation with one’s mother.”

Melanie gestured at the room. “This isn’t the parlor. Normal categories don’t apply. And if I’m going to trial based on the testimony of Dorsen Trallek, then you’re going to have to get used to the idea of hearing about the reason he knew me well enough to ask for a favor.”

“You mean why he knew you well enough to ask you for help in defrauding the Foundation,” Elise said.

“Wrong line of thinking. I’m glad you’re not my defense lawyer. Jack will make it very clear that while I certainly made a mistake in encouraging Dorsen to submit an incomplete report, I did it as a favor to a past lover and never had any idea that a simple favor could turn into something so unfortunate.”

The play of emotions on Elise’s face were quite telling, Tuvok thought. Though he had spent many years around Humans, he never understood their self-deception in this area. They could lie easily and fluently about their emotions without ever seeming to realize that their expressions and body language told an entirely different story.

“Where exactly does the truth come in?” she asked.

Tuvok raised an eyebrow. Then again, sometimes a Human had the capacity to surprise him.

“Excuse me?”

“The truth, Mom. Doesn’t it matter?”

“I think what matters is that I get out of here as soon as possible. Not that I’m not enjoying my stay in Hotel Starfleet, but the service leaves something to be desired.”

It was obviously not the answer Elise had expected. “How can you joke about this?” she asked in disbelief.

“Because it’s better than drowning in self-pity! I don’t have time for that.”

“Self-pity—you’re here because you tried to kill a hundred and forty-eight people! Where do you get self-pity out of that?”

“Elise Hamilton, whose side are you on?” Melanie seemed genuinely perplexed. “Do you want me to stay in here?”

“No! What I want is for none of this to have happened. I want to wake up from this nightmare and find my mother on the other end of a video link, asking why it took me so long to answer her call.”

“And I want to be the one calling you. Which is why our defense strategy is so important.”

“But you’re acting like you have nothing to be ashamed of! Aren’t you even sorry?”

“I will never be sorry for acting in your best interests,” said Melanie vehemently. “That is my job.”

“What the—” Elise stopped, her face clearing. “You do know they can’t use anything you say in here in court, right? You can speak freely. They have to bring in an interviewer, and you have to sign off on what you’re saying before anything is admissible.”

“Yes, I know that.”

“Then talk to me! I’m not a goddamned jury. Tell me why you did this! You didn’t raise me to value Human lives so cheaply.”

Melanie regarded her daughter in silence, then rested her forearms on the table and leaned toward her. “You live an easy life because of your name. Because of who you are—my daughter. I raised you to safeguard and protect the legacy that I received from my mother, and which I passed on to you, and which I expect you to pass on to your child someday. Stephen doesn’t care about anything but his research, and he’s never shown the slightest interest in the Foundation. But you made up for his lack. You not only protect our legacy, you’ve substantially built on it with your appointment as a Hamilton fund manager. That’s something I was never able to achieve, and I was so proud of you when you earned that. And then you made Vice Chair. You are the hope of the family. You’ve invested well, you’ve made good decisions, and you’ve been a credit to your name. But your legacy was in danger and you didn’t even seem to see it. I had an opportunity to quietly take care of that danger, and I acted. Yes, there would have been collateral damage. But there was no one on that ship as important as you.”

For a Human, Tuvok thought, Melanie appeared to have a remarkable ability to separate emotion from reason. Her logic was very clear. If she had been Romulan, Cardassian or Klingon, that logic and her course of action would have been considered worthy of respect. But in neither the Vulcan nor the Human moral code could it be considered acceptable, and from the expression on Elise’s face, Melanie had not passed her belief system on to her daughter.

“If you had asked me first,” Elise said in a shaking voice, “I would have told you that I would never, ever accept those deaths as defensible. Not for our legacy, not for any title or any amount of money.”

“You have the luxury of taking the moral high road because I did the dirty work. That may fly outside, but it doesn’t fly in here. I don’t expect gratitude, but I at least expect a little support.”

“I can’t support this! Every one of those people on that ship was as important as me! Am I supposed to be grateful that you’re willing to murder in my name?” She sat back, her face crumpling. “Oh, my god, I can’t believe I’m saying this. Mom, please, tell me this is all a mistake. Please.”

The door opened behind Tuvok, and he turned to see Captain Janeway slipping in, still in dress uniform. “I just got the message,” she whispered.

He nodded, turning back to the monitors as the Captain settled into the seat next to him.

“—not a truth I ever wanted you to know,” Melanie was saying. “You’ve always had a rosy view of the world, even though you thought yourself quite jaded. And I have always wanted to protect your innocence. My greatest sorrow now is that you’re sitting here, heartbroken because the facts of life are staring you in the face. Do you think the Hamilton fortune was amassed only through the best, shiniest morals and ethics? Do you think nothing ever happened in back rooms, that no one ever got hurt in the process? True wealth brings great responsibility, and sometimes it also brings hard necessities. It requires realism, and a willingness to act. I acted for your sake, and for the sake of the family. When I said I didn’t expect gratitude, what I meant was that I know you will never really understand why this was necessary. But you are my daughter, and I will always love you, even if you think of me as a villain.”

“Whoa,” whispered Captain Janeway. “She’s either playing the most emotional hardball I’ve ever seen, or she really thinks that way.”

Elise was now slumped in her chair, her face in her hands as her shoulders shook. “I believe she really thinks that way,” Tuvok observed, watching Melanie’s composure as she rose from her own chair and circled around to comfort her daughter. “She shows the behavioral patterns of a parent teaching her child a lesson that, while difficult, must be learned for adult survival.”

Melanie bent over Elise, who turned into her and wept as her mother stroked her hair. “It will be all right,” she murmured. “You’ll see.”

The door opened to admit the guard. “Please take your seat, Ms. Hamilton.”

“Oh, for god’s sake, I hardly think that holding my child constitutes a danger to the Federation,” Melanie snapped.

“Ma’am, please return to your seat,” the guard repeated.

Elise pulled away from her mother, exposing a face red and puffy with weeping. “Go on,” she said. “Don’t get into any more trouble.”

“Would you bring my daughter a box of tissues?” Melanie asked the guard. “I assume you have them in this joyous place. I’d offer her my kerchief if you hadn’t seen fit to confiscate it. Too dangerous for me to keep, I suppose.”

Elise paused, then dug into the pocket of her blazer and pulled out a white kerchief.

“Ah, good. Never mind.” Melanie dismissed the guard with a wave of her hand.

Elise was staring at the kerchief as if she hadn’t seen it before. Slowly, she brought it to her face and wiped away the signs of her tears as Melanie hovered nearby. Folding the kerchief with great care, Elise looked up and said in a clear voice, “Mom, sit down.”

“You’re all right?”

“No. But that’s not what matters.”

Frowning, Melanie returned to her seat as Elise laid the folded kerchief on the table in front of her.

“I understand that you did what you thought was right,” she said. “You acted according to your own moral compass. But I need you to know that I categorically reject that compass. I do not accept that lives are expendable in the service of the Hamilton fortune. I don’t accept responsibility for your choice, even though you made it in my name. Even though you made it because I enabled it, by telling you about Lynne when I shouldn’t have. I will regret that for the rest of my life, but Alison was right—I should have been able to trust you. The ‘facts of life’ that you think are breaking my heart have nothing to do with the responsibilities and necessities you’re talking about. They have to do with realizing that I can’t trust you. And that you’re capable of actions I find reprehensible.”

“You do not—” Melanie began, but stopped when Elise held up her hand.

“Please let me finish before I lose it completely.” Even saying the words seemed to break her control, but she recovered and went on, “I like Lynne. Do you know she asked after me last night? Even knowing that you tried to kill her, she had enough class to ask how I was doing. If you didn’t see her as a danger and an enemy, you’d probably end up liking her too. She’s got fire—you saw that in the board meeting. And she doesn’t give a shit about the all-important Hamilton fortune, which for me is suddenly a huge mark in her favor. It’s also what makes this so ironic, because I don’t think it would have occurred to her to change her fund managers if she hadn’t been forced into it. You created the very situation you were trying to avoid.”

“At first she might not have,” said Melanie. “But I had to think in the longer term.”

“God.” Elise took a deep breath and said, “I love you. I always will. You’re my mother. But if you want my support, as you put it, then you have to stop this. Cancel the contract on Lynne. Work with Starfleet to find those assassins you hired. End this.” She leaned forward. “Do the right thing, Mom. You still have a chance. Jack’s a great lawyer; he can drive a good bargain for you. Please, please take it.”

Melanie shook her head. “I love you too. You know that. But I will not put myself at risk of an even worse charge just to satisfy your version of a moral compass. I’m sorry, but we are not going to agree on this one.”

“Please reconsider.”

“I can’t.”

Elise picked up the kerchief and wiped her eyes again. “Okay,” she whispered. “If that’s your answer, then I don’t have anything more to say.”

“That’s my answer.” For the first time, Melanie appeared distraught as well, but she kept her back straight.

They looked at each other for a long, silent moment before Elise pushed her chair back and stood up. “I have to go.”

Melanie stood as well, and they came together for a final embrace. “You’ll come back?” asked Melanie, in an almost plaintive voice.

“No, Mom. I won’t.” Elise gestured to the guard outside. “Take care of yourself.”

As the guard opened the door, Melanie grabbed her hand and held her back. “We’re not done yet,” she told the guard.

He looked at Elise for confirmation. “Ma’am?”

“Sorry. I guess we need a little more time,” Elise said.

He nodded and backed out, closing the door once more.

“I can’t plea bargain,” said Melanie in a rush. “I cancelled that contract the day Lynne filed her testament. But they won’t confirm and they won’t respond. I even offered to double the payment, but…nothing. I don’t know how to find them, hell, I’m not even sure my messages are getting through. I don’t have anything to offer in a plea, don’t you see? No leverage. Admitting to that charge would be suicidal.”

“So you really did hire them.”

Melanie furrowed her brows. “You just said I did.”

“I hoped I was wrong! God!” Elise took a step backwards. “How did you even know how to contact a bunch of Cardassian assassins? Never mind, I don’t want to know. Fuck.” She put her hands to her forehead and rubbed vigorously. “I still think you should work with Starfleet. You may know things that will help, even if you don’t realize it. Mom, you started this, you have to finish it.” As Melanie began to shake her head, Elise suddenly straightened and said, “You have to. You said you did this for the sake of the family. Well, Lynne is family. She’s my cousin, just the same as Adele, except that she happens to come from a different generation. How would you feel if Uncle Charles decided I was a threat to Adele and hired professionals to kill me?”

From the expression on Melanie’s face, this line of thinking had not occurred to her, nor was it a welcome one.

“That’s what I thought,” said Elise. “Too bad Lynne doesn’t have anyone taking care of her the way you’re taking care of me. Maybe someone else in this family should step into that role.”

“And I suppose you think that should be you.”

Elise paused. “Actually, I do. I think I have some ground to make up, thanks to you. Better find a way to call off those Cardassians, Mom. Because you never know—I might be standing right next to Lynne when they come to take her out.”

“Elise!”

Elise signaled the guard again. “Think about it,” she said, with one last look at her mother. Then she brushed past the guard and was gone.

“Ma’am,” said the guard.

Silently, Melanie preceded him through the door. The monitors now showed nothing but an empty room.

“Well, that answers the question about Elise’s loyalties,” said Captain Janeway.

Tuvok tapped the control panel to end the recording and transfer the file to his PADD. “She was aware that their conversation was being recorded,” he said. “It’s possible that this was for our benefit.”

“Do you really think she’s that good an actress?”

He considered it while putting the PADD in its holder. “No, I do not.”

“Nor do I. She’s truly shattered to find out that her mother did this. In a way, that makes her just as much a victim as Lynne.”

“It is ironic,” he mused. “In the act of protecting her daughter, Melanie has injured her instead.”

“And I think she just started to recognize that now.” Janeway’s expression hardened. “I sincerely hope that eats her alive for as long as she lives.”

“I believe I will give her the rest of today to think about this conversation,” said Tuvok. “Perhaps by early tomorrow morning, this will have ‘eaten her alive’ long enough for her to be amenable to Elise’s suggestion. If we can find out where she was sending her messages, we may be able to follow the electronic trail.”

“I certainly hope so. Lynne can’t live this way much longer. It’s strange, though, that they wouldn’t take Melanie’s offer. Double the money for no work sounds pretty good to me.”

“Not if your motive is personal.”

She looked at him sharply. “Care to explain?”

“When Wiler was picked up near your mother’s farm, I theorized that the contract was now motivated by revenge. It was the only logical conclusion, given Lynne’s testament and the Hamilton board’s awareness of it. My mistake was in assuming that the avenging individual was on that board, and that the act being avenged was the firing of the fund managers. Based on what we’ve just heard, the vengeance is being carried out by a Cardassian.”

“Someone else in the cell,” she said, almost to herself.

“Someone who is avenging the deaths of his or her colleagues,” he concluded. “And for whom the issue is so personal that money is not an incentive to stop.”

Janeway stared at him. “That’s the worst news I’ve heard in days.”

“I would gladly entertain any other explanation that would fit the evidence. But I do not believe there is one.”

She fell silent, but he recognized the signs and waited patiently. The quieter Janeway was, the more rapidly her brain was working.

“Whoever this Cardassian is, he or she has one big weakness,” she said at last. “And we can exploit it if Melanie Hamilton will work with us.”

“You are thinking of setting a trap,” he said with complete certainty.

She nodded. “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather meet this bastard on my terms.”

“I concur. What did you have in mind?”

“Just bits and pieces at the moment. I need to think about it. I don’t want to use Lynne as bait, but there may not be an alternative.”

“She would be a willing participant.”

“Too willing. That’s part of the problem.” She rose from her chair. “I want your report as soon as you’ve spoken with Melanie tomorrow morning. And Tuvok…good work.”

 

 

-----

 

 

“Let’s go.”

Alison looked up from her book to find Elise striding toward the exit without even glancing her way. Hurriedly she closed the book, picked up both coats, and caught up with her friend. “Here,” she said, handing over the black coat.

“Thanks.” Elise pulled it on as she walked, still not making eye contact. But Alison was close enough now to see the clear signs of recent weeping. It looked as if the visit had not gone well.

They rode the lift in silence, emerging into the base level garage which had grown much colder and darker since they’d parked there. “Brr,” said Alison, zipping her coat up to her chin. “I think the storm is here.”

“That’s appropriate,” said Elise shortly, and did not utter another word until they were in the hovercraft. The moment the doors were shut, she slumped in her seat with a shuddering sigh.

Alison paused with her hand on the controls. “I hesitate to ask, but—are you all right?”

“No. And I don’t want to go to a store for clothes. Please just take me home. Your home,” she clarified.

“Okay.” Alison activated the engines, and a moment later they emerged into the full fury of a Colorado winter storm. “Hang on, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

It was just as well that Elise wasn’t up for conversation, since Alison needed her full attention on navigating the city transit corridor. She never much minded piloting a hovercraft in bad weather; it was the other pilots who scared her. Once they cleared the transit corridor and emerged onto the nearly empty mountain beacon, she breathed a sigh of relief and settled in more comfortably. The scenery that had enthralled her on the way in was now invisible, save occasional glimpses of already-white slopes as the wind briefly blew aside the curtain of snow.

“It’s a good day for hot chocolate,” she observed.

“That’s about all it’s good for.” Elise rested her head on the seatback. “I did my best.”

Alison took the non sequitur in stride. “It sounds like it didn’t work.”

“I don’t know. Maybe Mom’ll think about it and come around. She won’t have much else to do, that’s for sure.” She paused. “Alison, I’m sorry.”

Surprised, Alison glanced over. “For what?”

“I got upset with you last night for saying Mom hired the assassins. But you were right, she did. I just…couldn’t hear it then.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I can’t even imagine how hard this must be.”

“Pretty hard,” Elise whispered. She turned her head to stare out the side window.

Alison’s heart hurt, seeing her like this. She wanted to help, but what could she possibly say? Nothing that wouldn’t sound like platitudes. Elise’s situation was just too far beyond anything she could relate to.

But since she was on the mountain beacon and had a hand free, she gently rested it on Elise’s leg, letting her know that she wasn’t alone. Elise didn’t look around, but after a moment her hand came down on top of Alison’s, lacing their fingers together. They remained that way for the rest of the automated flight.

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 49

 

 

“Kathryn!” Seven was happily surprised to see her friend on the doorstep. “I thought you were still in San Francisco. How was Johannesburg?”

“Hot,” said Kathryn, stepping in and allowing Seven to shut out the wintry air. “It’s high summer and those people were sweltering in the sun. At least I had some shade on the podium. But between Johannesburg and San Francisco and Denver and here, I’m starting to forget what time my body is supposed to think it is. Or what season.”

“Ship time was easier,” Seven agreed.

“Anyway, I’m off for the weekend. Or what’s left of it. So I thought I’d come over and see how one of my favorite people is doing. Mom says Lynne’s out walking with Revi, and it occurred to me that I haven’t seen you by yourself in about a month of Sundays.”

“That would be approximately thirty weeks, or zero point five eight years. Why do Humans have such a need to exaggerate?”

“Because sometimes it’s more fun than reality.” Kathryn shrugged off her jacket and hung it on a wall peg. “So, I hear you tried your hand at baking Mom’s brownies?”

“Ah. This is why you came over. You’re scavenging.”

“I’m wounded.” Kathryn put her hand to her heart. “Are they done?”

“Yes. But I’m afraid they’re carbonized.”

“You burned them?”

Seven smiled at her look of horror. “No, but I believe I just ‘burned’ you.”

Kathryn threw her head back and laughed. “Yes, you did!” With another chuckle, she added, “Thanks, I needed that today.”

“Were the interviews in Johannesburg that difficult?” asked Seven, leading the way to the kitchen.

“No, those were fine. But the moment I finished, I had a message from Tuvok that Elise Hamilton was coming in for a visit with her mother. So I went straight from Johannesburg back to Denver, and got there just in time to witness a truly harrowing conversation. Melanie Hamilton is a piece of work, and I feel sorry for Elise.”

Seven began cutting out two brownies for each of them. “Elise was not aware of her mother’s activities, then?”

“No. She was…well, let’s just say she was surprised and very dismayed. And I have a feeling she might be calling Lynne soon.” She accepted her plate of brownies and happily bit into one. “Mmm! Seven, they’re fantastic! Revi is a lucky woman. I can’t get Lynne to even try making these.”

“You could try,” Seven pointed out. She thought this was a reasonable solution, but the look Kathryn gave her implied otherwise.

“I do not bake,” Kathryn said firmly.

“Then you are consciously denying yourself a food that you love and crave. That seems counterproductive.”

“Counterproductive would be me attempting to bake.” Kathryn finished her first brownie and eyed the second. “Is there a reason you’re limiting me to two?”

In answer, Seven reached around, picked up the pan of brownies and set it on the counter between them. “I ask only that you leave at least one-quarter of the pan for Revi.”

“That’s reasonable,” Kathryn agreed.

“Of course, should you actually consume three-quarters of the pan, you will need to engage in approximately eight hours of aerobic exercise to burn off the energy for a net result of zero fat storage,” Seven added.

“Thanks, Seven, you’re a ray of sunshine. Though I do have a sudden craving for a good game of Velocity. I’ve been thinking in circles for the last two hours and getting nowhere. Maybe it will help if I just turned my brain off for awhile. Care to take me on tonight? There’s a sports complex in Bloomington.”

“I—” Seven paused, feeling tugged in two directions. “I would enjoy that. But I shouldn’t leave Revi.”

Kathryn looked up sharply. “Did something happen today?”

“No. But she’s still working through her emotions regarding the link with Dhara. Counselor Troi gave her a significant amount of homework, as she called it. It has not been easy for her.” This was an understatement, but Seven was guarding Revi’s privacy, knowing how vulnerable her partner felt.

“I know it hasn’t. And I feel terrible that I’ve been gone so much just when she needs her friends the most. But Seven, you have to take care of yourself as well as her. That means not locking yourself up in this house just to be with her. It’s okay to get out and have fun once in awhile. Revi will understand.”

“She needs me,” Seven insisted. “I’m her partner. That does not mean that I’m her partner only when it’s convenient.”

“That’s not what I meant. And no one could ever accuse you of not supporting Revi.” She frowned slightly. “Have you done anything for fun in the last three days?”

“We have gone for a walk every day, we speak with Gretchen and Lynne, we visit Barney—” Seven stopped as Kathryn shook her head. “What? Have I not understood the question correctly?”

“Apparently not. I didn’t ask what you and Revi are doing, I asked what you are doing.”

“I haven’t been away from Revi since Dhara’s visit,” said Seven. “Except for now.”

“Then it’s past time to get you out for some fun. I’m a little surprised Counselor Troi didn’t assign that as your homework. A partnership involves two people, not just one. That means both of you need to be healthy. And it’s not healthy for you to consistently subordinate your own needs to Revi’s. Sometimes, yes. But not all the time. She would tell you the exact same thing if you asked.”

It had not occurred to Seven that her choices had been anything other than expected and appropriate for her relationship. Though reluctant to interrupt what she knew was a serious conversation with Lynne, she needed Revi’s input on this new information.

The response was instant. : Absolutely you need to go out and play Velocity with Kathryn! Gods, I never meant for you to think you had to limit yourself just because I’m feeling like a toadstool. You’d better not be in the house when I come back. :

Seven smiled, feeling a sudden lifting of spirits that she hadn’t realized were lower than normal. “Revi said I should get out.”

“Told you.” Kathryn began cutting out another brownie. “I’d better stock up on energy so I can whip your ass.”

 

 

-----

 

 

The moment they walked in the house, Elise said, “I need a shower. Do you mind?”

“No, of course not. But you just took one this morning. How many showers do you take in a day?” Maybe she was one of those people with an obsession for cleanliness.

“Usually one. But I need to wash that place off me.” She seemed anxious and antsy, a clear contrast to her passive silence in the transport. Alison had a feeling that she needed to wash off more than the scent of the Detention Center.

“All right, but if you’re in there for more than half an hour, I’m coming in after you.” It was only partially a joke; she was a little concerned.

Elise gave her a small smile. “At any other time, that might be an incentive to stay. But I promise not to drown myself.”

“Good. Why don’t you leave your clothes outside the door? I’ll recycle them for you.”

“Oh, thank you. That would be wonderful.” Elise was already heading up the stairs.

Alison puttered around until she heard the water come on, then waited another couple of minutes before going upstairs. But there were no clothes in the hallway. She knocked on the bathroom door and called, “Elise? You forgot to leave your clothes out.”

“Sorry! Come on in.”

Opening the door to a blast of heat, she thought, Christ, she’s in there parboiling herself. Then she caught sight of the shadowy figure moving behind the translucent shower panel, and all conscious brain activity came to a screeching halt. The panel was discreet, of course, but it showed enough to set Alison’s blood pumping at a significantly increased rate. She felt her face growing hot and knew it wasn’t just because of the steam.

Reluctantly, she tore her eyes away from the sight and set about collecting the clothes. They were strewn all over the floor, evidence of their owner’s haste to get them off. As she picked up the silk turtleneck and wool blazer, she imagined Elise wearing them at home, hosting her mother’s friends for cribbage night, laughing and enjoying the evening—until she opened the front door to find her worst nightmare beginning.

“Would you like to borrow something a little more comfortable?” she asked. “I’ve got a sweater that should fit you. Can’t do anything about the pants, though.”

Elise poked her head around the edge of the shower panel. “What? I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

Alison lost her train of thought for the second time in as many minutes. Elise’s hair was slicked back, making her light gray eyes stand out even more than usual. Water was dripping off her chin, a gorgeous wet shoulder and arm were exposed, and she looked like the most desirable woman Alison had ever seen. It took a Herculean effort to locate her vocal cords and repeat her original question, but she thought she pulled it off rather well.

“A sweater sounds great,” Elise answered. She wrinkled her nose at the sight of her remaining clothes on the floor. “Um, sorry about that. I’m usually a little more tidy.”

“Don’t worry about it. You get one freebie.”

Elise gave her a small smile and vanished again, freeing Alison to recover some of her normal mental powers. She picked up the socks, underwear and pants, only to stop dead as a black lace bra was uncovered. Oh, God. She wears lace?

With a last look at the figure behind the panel, she scooped up the bra and fled.

 

 

-----

 

 

“Barney, I’m home!”

Gretchen looked up from her book and smiled. “That’s a new one,” she called. She could hear Lynne and Revi bumping around the hallway, hanging up coats and taking off boots before they appeared in the living room doorway.

“Well, I figured he might be tired of being called ‘Honey,’” Lynne explained as she walked straight to the box by Gretchen’s chair. “Hey! How are you doing, little guy?” She lifted the kitten out and sat cross-legged on the floor, putting him on her thigh.

“She’s really gone around the bend, hasn’t she?” Revi asked Gretchen.

“Oh, that kitten has her wrapped around his paw.” Gretchen put her book down and leaned over to see Lynne better. “You know, we do have chairs.”

“Yeah, but look at how teeny he is. What if he fell? Those chairs are high.”

“Like you would ever let him fall. You don’t even let the poor guy get off your leg,” said Revi, crouching down next to her.

Sure enough, Lynne was corralling him with her hands as he tried to jump off her knee. “That’s not true. I’ll let him off, but he has to do it from a little lower down.”

“Give me that kitten.” Revi scooped him off Lynne’s leg and set him on the floor. “Run, Barney, run! Be free!”

“Oh, nice! I haven’t even had him a week and you’re already trying to drive a wedge between us.” Lynne pulled a piece of string from her pocket—she was never without one these days—and drew it past Barney’s nose. His prior interest in the dark space beneath Gretchen’s chair was instantly diverted, and he chased the string up Revi’s leg and right up her torso before she realized what was happening.

“Aagh! Claws!” Revi carefully detached him and held him in her clamp, but he squirmed vigorously, looking around for the string. When Lynne obligingly dangled it in front of him he promptly forgot about being held and focused on capturing it, letting the rest of his body go limp in Revi’s grasp.

“Well, there you go,” said Gretchen. “If the Borg ever want to run a recruitment campaign, they just need to record this little scene and broadcast it. It would make them look positively warm and fuzzy.”

“The Borg would never do anything so inefficient as pouring hours of effort into a helpless fluffball,” said Revi, setting Barney back down on the floor. “That’s the province of tough-talking, soft-hearted Humans.”

“Better than soft-talking, tough-hearted Humans.” Lynne resumed the game of chase, getting up on her hands and knees and leading Barney all over the living room. “Besides, he’s not so helpless anymore. Look at what a hunter he is now—get it, Barney!”

“Oh, I didn’t think Melanie Hamilton was all that soft-talking,” Revi said. “Not from what I saw at the board meeting.”

“I still can’t believe it,” said Gretchen. They’d discussed this and little else since the previous night, but she hadn’t yet managed to wrap her brain around it. “To kill someone in her own family, for the sake of future wealth—as if they didn’t have enough already!”

“For some people, there’s no such thing as ‘enough’ wealth,” said Revi.

“And I’m clearly not family to her,” Lynne added from the other side of the room. “I actually don’t blame her on that count, since she doesn’t feel like family to me, either. None of them do.”

“I don’t know about the rest, but I liked Elise,” said Gretchen a little wistfully. “She was very charming at the reception. Simply a lovely woman.”

“A lovely woman with a viper for a mother.” Revi shook her head. “Makes me think about mine a little differently.”

“Now that can only be a good thing.” Gretchen reached out and rubbed Revi’s shoulder, earning a warm smile.

“Revi, tell her about your homework.” Despite her protestations about the height of chairs, Lynne was now leading Barney straight up the side of the couch. “This is amazing, Gretchen. She got assigned to look up a word. And I realized that I’ve gone my entire life without ever really knowing what it means.”

“Which word is that?” Gretchen looked at Revi curiously.

“Forgive,” said Revi. “I told Counselor Troi that I wasn’t sure I could ever forgive my mother, and if I couldn’t, then how could we ever move on? And she said that my forgiveness didn’t have the slightest thing to do with Mom. It only has to do with me. Then she told me to go home and look up the word.”

“And it means…”

“To stop feeling angry or resentful toward someone for an offense, flaw or mistake,” said Revi, obviously quoting from memory. “And to stop expecting punishment or restitution. It’s not about what she did or didn’t do. It’s about how I feel. I have control over that. I can choose to stop carrying around a lot of crap. It doesn’t change the facts of what happened, it just changes how I react to them.”

“And you’ve done that before, so you know it’s possible,” added Lynne.

“How interesting,” said Gretchen. “You’ve just taught me something. I thought forgiveness meant you had to stop blaming the other person for what they’d done, or stop holding them responsible.”

“Nope,” said Revi. “That’s absolution. I didn’t know that until yesterday, either. I’ll never absolve my father, and I’m not really sure I can absolve my mother. But I think that maybe I can forgive her…eventually…because that’s about me, and the gods know I need every advantage I can get.”

“Besides,” said Gretchen carefully, “she’s certainly trying hard on her end.” She didn’t want to push Revi, but this was an opening she couldn’t pass up.

“I know. Counselor Troi pointed out that Mother had a lot of guts to come over here, onto my turf, and do something she had no experience in. I guess I hadn’t fully realized that. I just knew I was never setting foot in that house again, and if she wanted to talk to me, it had to be on my terms.” She looked over at Lynne. “The irony is, I remember tearing Kathryn up one side and down the other for emotionally manipulating you about that Arnett mess. And yet I just did the exact same thing to my mother. I think that regardless of our other issues, I need to go apologize for that.”

Gretchen hadn’t heard about the ‘Arnett mess,’ but now was clearly not the time to ask. She watched as Lynne led Barney back to Revi and up onto her leg, dropping the string and thus ensuring that he would stay put. He immediately settled onto his haunches, holding the string between his front paws and chewing on it while Revi began to stroke him.

“Do you know what I’ve learned recently?” Lynne asked. “I’ve learned that the best prescription for just about anything in the world is kitten therapy. I can pet him and everything else seems to get smaller and more surmountable.”

“There’s something to that,” admitted Revi. “Maybe I should borrow him.”

“And he’s really good at forgiveness,” Lynne continued. “For instance, the first thing you did when you met him was stick a temperature probe up his ass. And look, there he sits, letting you pet him. He’s not harboring any resentment at all.”

Gretchen laughed almost as much from seeing Revi crack up as she did from Lynne’s comment. “She does have a point.”

“She does,” Revi agreed. “And I can’t argue with the fact that he seems to be totally happy.”

“Sure he is. He understands that reality simply is, so he doesn’t worry about it.”

“The zen philosophy,” said Gretchen. “It is what it is.”

Both Lynne and Revi looked over at her. “That sounded just like Kathryn,” said Lynne as Revi nodded.

Gretchen raised her eyebrows at them. “Well, where do you think she got it?”

 

 

-----

 

 

By the time Elise came downstairs, Alison had congratulated herself on recovering her full mental capacities. When she’d delivered the freshly recycled clothes, minus one blazer—which she’d hung in the guest room—and plus one sweater, she had barely even glanced at the sensual figure behind the shower screen. No, it had not affected her at all.

However, the sight of Elise fully dressed and wearing one of her own sweaters promptly undid all of her prior effort. For some reason, seeing Elise in that sweater reactivated the memory of her bare shoulder and arm, and her circulatory system obligingly kicked into overdrive in response.

“Much better,” said Elise, sliding into the chair on the other side of the breakfast nook. “Thanks for the sweater. I’d never have guessed you’d have something with long enough sleeves.”

“You’re not that much taller than me,” said Alison.

“No, but I have monkey arms. That’s one reason I have a full-range replicator, because I can just program in my measurements and get clothes that fit.”

“Well, it looks good on you.” Maybe she shouldn’t have said that.

“Thank you. I bet it looks great on you, too. It’s been something of a revelation, seeing you out of your power clothes.”

Oh, God. She knew Elise hadn’t meant it that way, but her brain was insisting on bad interpretations. “Are you saying that I lose my aura of power in my fuzzy bathrobe and slippers?”

“Do you want the truth, or a well-meaning lie?”

They laughed together, but Alison needed to make a point. “I always want the truth. Always.”

Elise’s smile slipped. “Will you do me a favor?”

“If I can.”

“Tell me the truth, too. I’ve had enough of lies.”

“I don’t doubt it. And that’s a promise I can easily make.”

Elise nodded, then reached into her pants pocket and pulled out a small square of white. “This is yours, by the way,” she said. “It keeps getting recycled with my clothes.”

Alison didn’t recognize it until it was placed in her hand. “Oh! My kerchief. I forgot all about it. This is very special, you know.” She unfolded it and held it up to show the tiny Starfleet design embroidered in one corner. “A gift from Aunt Alynna.”

“I never noticed that—it’s so cute!” Elise took the kerchief back and looked more closely at the design. “I’ve used this several times, how did I miss it?”

“Probably because you were a bit preoccupied. And please don’t ever tell Aunt Alynna that you think the Starfleet emblem is cute. She might not get over it.” Warmed by the thought of Elise using the kerchief ‘several times,’ she reached out and closed Elise’s hand over it. “Why don’t you keep it?”

Instinctively, Elise drew it closer to her body. “But you said it was special.”

“It is. And I have about two dozen others that are just as special.” Seeing the puzzled look, she added, “It’s part of a set. A big set.”

“Oh.” A knowing chuckle. “Christmas?”

“From about fifteen years ago. I also have Starfleet logos on pajamas, towels, coffee cups, shotglasses, underwear, a duvet—”

“Underwear?”

“Um, yes.”

With a broad smile, Elise said, “These I have to see.”

“Oh, no. I never show off my Starfleet undies on a first date.”

“By my calculations, our first date was when you threw your pad thai all over me. Our second was when you drank most of my Thai iced tea. That makes this the third…or the fourth, if you count yesterday separately. So I think I’m qualified to see the Starfleet undies.”

Alison hadn’t expected her verbal bluff to be raised and then called. There was nothing for it now but to play along. “Okay, fine. Come on. But if you consider those first two events to be dates, I really can’t think why you keep coming back for more.”

She led her guest up the stairs and to the end of the hallway, where her bedroom took up a full third of the floor. “No comments on how much larger my bedroom is than the guest room, please,” she said as they went through the door.

“Whoa,” said Elise, looking around with a very interested air. “You definitely took advantage of the view. This is the same architectural theme as your living room.”

The wall opposite her bed was mostly transparent aluminum, molded in a peaked shape that reflected the snow-covered mountains framed within the view. Warm-toned wooden beams braced the high ceiling and windows, giving the room the feel of an old-fashioned log cabin.

“I love light,” said Alison. “So I made sure I had plenty of it when I drew up the plans.”

“Wait. You designed this house?”

“Well…I had help. I hired an architect to tell me which of my ideas were good and which would be total disasters. And thank God I did, too.”

“But you got that input after the fact, right? You already had the plans drawn up?”

“Yes.”

“Damn. I’m impressed.”

“I work in theory, Elise. I spend my whole life dealing with intangibles. The tangibles I do deal with—like budgets—are mostly boring. Designing a house was one of the most enjoyable things I’ve ever done. But I think the most enjoyable thing was watching this place being built. You don’t get much more tangible than this.” She spread out her arms.

“No, you don’t.” Elise walked to the windows and put a hand on one of the wooden beams. “So was this your idea or the architect’s? Putting three windows here instead of a single sheet of aluminum?”

“Mine. I have the single-sheet design at my office, and while it works perfectly in that building, I didn’t want it here. I wanted to use the framing of the windows to carry out the theme of mountain peaks. And I wanted the warmth of the wood.”

“It reminds me of a park lodge.”

“It’s supposed to. I was trying to create a sense of being in a beautiful, remote place.”

Elise turned to face her. “Now I know why this place feels like sanctuary to me. Because you designed it that way.”

“Yes, exactly!” She was delighted at the insight. “Most people don’t get that.”

“Maybe because most people don’t come here needing it.”

They looked at each other for a long moment, and Alison felt something shift between them. They’d engaged in a fair amount of wordplay and teasing during these last few days, but she’d never been sure how much was actually going on beneath it—for Elise or for her. Now it suddenly felt a lot more solid, and she knew she wasn’t the only one making that realization.

“It’s strange,” said Elise, breaking the tension of the moment. “I actually don’t remember noticing anything about your house when we got here yesterday. I just registered that it was spacious and classy, and it seemed perfectly suited to you, but I didn’t take in any details.”

“I’m not surprised. You were shell-shocked.”

“I still am. But you have no idea how much it’s helping just to be here. It’s not just your house. It’s you.”

“Thank you. I think that’s one of the nicest things anyone has said to me.”

“Oh, Alison.” Elise gave her a sad smile. “If that’s true, you need better friends.”

“I’m working on that right now,” said Alison softly.

Another heavy silence fell, and once again it was Elise who broke it. “So. The Starfleet undies?”

With a snort, Alison went over to her armoire and pulled open the doors, revealing the stack of drawers concealed inside. “I think they’re…” She rummaged through the bottom drawer. “Ah. Here.” She pulled out a pair and turned, nearly crashing into Elise. “Whoa!”

“Sorry.” Elise stepped back. “I just wanted a closer look at this. It’s so old-fashioned, but it works perfectly in this space.” An incredulous smile bloomed on her face as she took in what Alison was holding. “Oh good lord, I can’t believe it.” Plucking the underwear from Alison’s grasp and holding them up, she began to laugh. “A black starfield! And they had to put the emblem there? It’s like a road sign!”

“No, it would be a road sign if the emblem were upside down.”

Elise dropped her arms and laughed uproariously. “God! I think I may have to program that into my replicator, just so you can have this underwear’s evil twin.”

“I have United Federation of Planets undies, too. You should see how that design frames things.” Alison was thoroughly enjoying the moment.

“Oh, no! I have to see! Come on, show them!” Elise snapped her fingers, still chuckling. “You can’t tell me that without coughing up the proof.”

Alison shrugged, dug them out from the back of her drawer, and silently held them up. Her reward was instant as Elise completely fell apart.

“Aghhh! These are the most hideous things I’ve ever seen!” Elise snatched them away and took a closer look. “And they’re transparent!” That sent her into fresh gales of laughter, and she could barely get the next words out. “My image…of you…has been completely shattered!” She wrapped an arm around her stomach and blindly thrust the underwear in Alison’s direction. “I think I have to wash out my brain now.”

It was impossible not to laugh with her. Alison had never seen her like this, and was delighted that she’d been able to instigate it now. Taking the underwear back, she said with false dignity, “Hey, it’s only the unimportant parts that are transparent. The logo makes these very discreet.”

“Oh yeah, discreet. That was the first word that came to my mind.” With a few final chuckles, Elise straightened and wiped her eyes. “Oh, that felt good. It’s been a while since I laughed so hard I actually cried.”

“Hm.” Alison looked at the underwear, then at her. “Well, I guess I’ll never be able to use these for a seduction again. You’ve ruined them for me. But I’m glad you at least got a laugh out of it.”

“Honey, if you ever attempted a seduction in those, we really have to talk.”

“I’m pretty sure I’d enjoy that,” said Alison, tingling from the inadvertent Honey.

Elise shook her head, still smiling. “You know, I thought you were kidding about the Starfleet underwear. I will never doubt you again.”

“Good.” Alison ostentatiously folded both pairs of undies and tucked them away. “I’ll be most anxious for my tour of your unmentionables.”

“Really. What time would you like that?”

Alison closed her eyes, realizing too late what she’d said, while Elise laughed again. “I know you didn’t mean that the way it sounded, but oh, your face…”

“All right, we’re done here.” Alison shut the armoire. “I’m not saying another word about underwear.”

“Pity.” Elise smiled, but took mercy on her. “So it occurs to me that there’s another floor to this house that I haven’t seen. Can I get the tour, or is this the Colorado version of Thornfield Hall?”

“I promise I have no mad first wives locked in the attic.” Alison gladly led Elise from her bedroom before she could embarrass herself any further. They climbed the stairs to the third floor and emerged into what she’d always thought was the best part of her house: a single space from one end to the other, with transparent panels in the peaked roof allowing so much light to pour in that it felt as if they were standing outside. Large potted plants were grouped all around, giving the room the look of a conservatory, and at the west end her desk and bookshelves stood beneath a twin to the window in her bedroom. Dotted here and there were small shelves, tables and pedestals for the art she had collected over the years, and tucked amid one particularly luxurious grouping of plants were two overstuffed chairs sharing a lamp and side table. It was the perfect place to sit and read.

“Oh, Alison…this is beautiful.” Elise stood still, taking it in. “What a gorgeous space. That’s it, you’re designing my next house.”

“You haven’t seen the most ingenious part yet.” Alison gestured toward their right, where the room was two meters wider than the rest of the space. A food replicator and counter space filled the little nook, and a wide door was set in the wall parallel to the one they’d just come through.

“You have a false space in here,” Elise realized. “What is that, storage?”

“If I had a mad first wife, this is where she’d be.” Alison opened the door and stood back, letting Elise peek in. The storage closet ran the length of the room, and was also lit by transparent roof panels. Box-laden shelving increased the available space even further.

“And I think she’d be happier than she was in Rochester’s attic,” Elise marveled. “You even managed to make a storage closet look inviting.”

“As I said, I love light. There’s nothing worse than going into a space like that and having to turn on an artificial light, even in the middle of the day. Plus the natural light makes it easier to find things.”

They moved into the main room, where Elise asked so many questions about the various objects of art that Alison found herself talking until the afternoon light grew decidedly dimmer. The snowstorm was bringing an early end to the day, and it suddenly seemed like the perfect time for a hot drink. She called up hot chocolate for Elise and a cappuccino for herself, and they carried their drinks over to the armchairs.

“There’s one thing I don’t understand,” said Elise. “Why is it that you have this gorgeous house, and yet I keep finding you at the Foundation at all hours of the night?”

“You caught me. I wonder that myself sometimes. It’s just that I get so wrapped up at work, and half the time I don’t even realize how late it is. But my weekends are sacred. Unless I have to go to some sort of function for the Foundation, I reserve that time for me. And most of it I spend right here.”

“Do you have guests very often?”

“No, I’m not an entertainer. I do enough of that for work. The last time I had guests was when Lynne, Kathryn, Seven and Revi dropped by to figure out whether I’d betrayed them or not.”

Elise studied her cup. “They were looking in the wrong house.”

“Fortunately, they came to that same conclusion.” She waited for Elise to look up, and when it didn’t happen she asked, “Do you want to talk about it? It’s pretty clear where your mind is.”

“Hasn’t been far from there all afternoon,” Elise admitted. “I feel like I’m living in an alternate reality.”

“Because you just learned your mother isn’t who you thought she was?”

“Yes…and no. She’s still my mom, you know? There were moments in there when she was lecturing me on how the world really works and I felt like I was fifteen years old again, being told that life isn’t fair and I should just ignore the girls at school talking behind my back. It was…surreal. I know what she’s done. But my body doesn’t, and neither does my subconscious. She came over and held me and it was so comforting, God, I needed it so much…and then I remembered. This person hugging me deliberately tried to kill people. It’s like mental whiplash.”

“I can’t even imagine,” Alison said.

“Before last night I couldn’t have imagined it either.” She sipped her cocoa and asked, “What about you and your mom? Do you have a good relationship?”

“We do. We’re a pretty tight family, probably because we’re so small. I’m an only child, so is my dad, and Mom only has one sister. And Aunt Alynna had no kids of her own, so she practically adopted me every summer when I was growing up. Mom and Dad live in New Zealand, at the base of the Southern Alps. Dad’s an astronomer and Mom raises alpacas. You wouldn’t believe what alpaca wool sells for in places like Betazed and Risa.”

“I probably would.” With a half-smile she added, “Kind of funny to hear you calling the formidable Admiral Necheyev ‘Aunt Alynna.’ That’s a whole different form of mental whiplash.”

“What can I say? She’s been my aunt forever. But she’s also been an admiral forever. From the time I was even old enough to be aware of ranks, she was already a rear admiral.”

“And what is she now?”

“Fleet admiral. As high as you can go and not rule the world.”

Elise snorted. “So one sister is a rancher, and the other holds the highest rank in Starfleet. That must have made for some interesting family discussions.”

“We never lacked for conversational topics. And then throw in astronomy and physics…Dad was a little unhappy that I didn’t follow him into pure astronomy, especially after I showed so much promise by building my own telescope at the age of nine.”

“You were precocious.”

“I loved putting things together. For a while I thought about going into engineering. But then I chose astrophysics, and all was well. Dad’s pretty proud.”

“And your mom? Is she proud of you?”

Alison thought she detected a wistful note in her voice. “She is, but you know, Mom lives in a different world. She’s tied to the land, and the seasons, and whether or not the rains will come at the right time to grow the pastures and keep the alpacas happy. She knows every flower and every blade of grass in that entire district. To her mind, Dad and I spend way too much time looking up instead of down.”

“She’d like my brother, then. Stephen’s a botanist. He spends his whole life looking down, and getting excited over things like a flower that has nine petals instead of eight.”

Chuckling, Alison said, “You’re right, Mom would probably love talking to him.”

But Elise had gone a little farther away. “My mom thinks Stephen’s a failure. Because he doesn’t have any interest in the Foundation. She actually told me today that I made up for his lack. And I think…I think that’s part of the reason she did it. Because I’m her one great hope in the family, and she wanted to make sure that I had a clear path to the top of the Foundation.”

“You know you’re not responsible for that, right?”

“Consciously, yes. Subconsciously…” Elise set her mug on the side table and pulled the kerchief out of her pocket. “This saved me today. Mom was telling me she’d done this for me, because I’m too innocent to know how the world really works, and how ruthlessness is necessary to guard fortunes like ours, and how she didn’t expect gratitude but she at least expected my support, and I was just crumbling, Alison. It was killing me. It was like being sucked into a black hole with no hope of ever seeing the light again, because so much of what she said seemed reasonable in a twisted sort of way, and it was my mom. I’ve heard those kinds of lectures so many times before, all the way back to high school when I cried about the girls talking behind my back and she told me they weren’t worth my tears because I was so much better than them. She’s always taught me that I was better. Better than the girls at school, better than Adele, even better than Stephen…and then today she said that no one on board Voyager was as important as me. The same message I’ve heard all my life, taken to a whole new level. And she capped it all off by telling me that she’ll always love me, even if I think she’s a villain.”

“Jesus,” breathed Alison. “I’d have crumbled, too.” This explained a lot about Elise—and made it even more amazing that she’d somehow held on to the core of herself despite a lifetime of training.

Elise shook her head. “No, you wouldn’t. You’re too strong for that. I think it would have bounced off you, because you have a different truth inside. That’s what I find so fascinating about you, ever since the moment I realized it was there. You are so different from me.” She held up the kerchief. “So I was falling apart, feeling like I’d never get out of the hole, and then Mom asked the guard for tissues and I suddenly remembered that I still had this from the night before. And when I pulled it out of my pocket, it was like you were there. I, ah…I don’t really know how to say this without sounding ridiculous, but it felt like you were holding my hand, like you did last night, and you were calmly telling me not to accept what Mom was saying. Telling me that I knew what was right, and I could still do the right thing. I just felt this…this strength washing over me. And that was when I told Mom that I do not accept her rationalization, or her concept of right and wrong, and that if she wants my support she’s going to have to help undo what she’s done.” With a bitter smile, she added, “As you can imagine, she was a little surprised.”

“Elise, that’s fantastic! Really. That took so much strength.”

“Tell me about it. Thanks for giving it to me.”

“Oh, no no no. I can’t give you what you already have. I just reminded you that it was there.”

With a half-pleased, half-disbelieving look, Elise said, “Well, wherever it came from, it saved me. By the time I left, I felt in control again. And I told Mom that I’m going to help Lynne, because she’s family. I don’t think there’s a better means of showing her what I think of her choices than by helping the very person she was trying to clear out of my way.”

Alison clapped her hands softly. “Brava! I’m in awe.”

“Yes, well, now I have to actually make good on it, which is easier said than done. I’m no closer to an answer now than I was the last time we talked about me contacting Lynne. Actually it’s worse now. What do I say? ‘Hi, Lynne, remember me? The one whose mom tried to kill you?’ She has absolutely no reason to trust me.”

“Sure she does.”

“Oh really? Enlighten me.”

“She trusts me. And I’ll vouch for you. Ergo, she’ll believe you.”

“She might think I have the wool pulled over your eyes.”

“Do you?”

Elise hesitated. “Actually, I think you see me more clearly than anyone, except maybe Stephen. And I’m not sure how that happened in less than a week.”

“If that’s true, it’s only because you’ve allowed it.” Once again Alison felt disarmed. Elise was getting under her skin.

“I’m not sure what I’ve ‘allowed.’ But I do know I want it.”

There it was again, that crackle of tension. Alison knew part of it was no doubt due to the extraordinary circumstances of this weekend, but…that certainly couldn’t be all of it.

“So do I,” she said quietly.

They stared at each other, and Alison thought somewhat irrelevantly that she needed to turn on the lamp soon…and then Elise was rising and looming over her, her hands braced on the arms of the chair.

“Do you want this, too?” she asked in a whisper.

I shouldn’t. You’re shell-shocked, you’re vulnerable, this is the wrong time, we should wait…

Alison reached up and curled her hand around the back of Elise’s neck. “God, yes.”

The smile that curved those lips was possibly the most beautiful one she’d ever seen, and then she lost her focus as Elise leaned down, kissing her with a gentleness she hadn’t expected. It was a slow, luxurious exploration, and she happily took advantage of the fact that while Elise’s hands were occupied with bracing herself, hers were free to roam. With a tactile focus that had suddenly become exquisitely sensitive, she mapped the edge of Elise’s jaw, the length of her throat, the softness of her hair…and then with increasing need, the curves of her body. Frustrated by the bulky sweater, she slipped her hands beneath it and encountered the silk turtleneck, which was of such a fine weave as to be little different from touching the skin itself.

“Oh,” Elise whispered, breaking off as Alison’s hands found the best curves of all. She rested their foreheads together, breathing hard, her eyes shut.

“Too much?”

“No...” A soft sigh. “Not at all.”

Alison ducked her head and kissed her again, this time with more force. “Not enough?” she asked with a smile.

Elise’s eyes opened and stared into hers with a gaze that, while undeniably aroused, was also just a little unsure. “I don’t know.”

“Okay.” Alison slowed it down, pulling one hand out to caress her cheek. “I won’t do anything you’re not ready for.”

All of Elise’s uncertainty vanished as a wicked twinkle came into her eyes. “Funny, that’s usually my line.”

“I’m not at all surprised. Somehow I suspected you’d be the dominant one in your relationships.”

“Is that what you want?”

Alison watched in awe as Elise turned her head and sucked in one of her fingers without ever breaking eye contact. It was nearly impossible to keep her own eyes open as a warm tongue worked its way up and down her finger, and her body decided instantly that it was ready for anything that might follow—the sooner, the better.

But as aroused as she was, enough of her upper brain was still functioning to recognize something fundamentally off about this scene, and a moment later she knew what it was. Slowly she pulled her finger out of Elise’s mouth, placed both hands on her chest and gently pushed her away.

“What…” Confused, Elise straightened as Alison stood up with her.

Holding both of her hands, Alison stayed close. “Will the real Elise Hamilton please stand up?”

“I don’t understand. Isn’t this what you want?”

Do you want this, too? Is that what you want? Isn’t this what you want? Alison had a sudden urge to take this woman in her arms and never let her go. Giving in to the first part of her desire, she embraced her and squeezed hard enough to convey the fact that she was not going anywhere. Then she pulled back and looked into Elise’s eyes, noting the wariness there. “What I want is you,” she said. “The real you, the one you say I see so clearly. Not the you who picks up women and gives them what they want. And not the you who tries to be the person she thinks she’s supposed to be. I want you.”

The wariness vanished, replaced by a mixture of relief and fear. “What if I don’t know who that person is?”

“Then I’ll gladly help you discover her. I think she’s worth the effort.”

“Alison…” Elise crushed her in an embrace that made it difficult to breathe, but Alison wasn’t complaining. “I’m a little frightened by how much you already mean to me. I don’t want to do anything wrong.”

“Just be truthful. The same promise you asked of me.”

After a long silence, Elise said, “Okay. Then the truth is…I really just want you to hold me for about a week.”

Alison drew back and smiled at her. “What a coincidence. That’s what I want, too.”

 

 

-----

 

 

“Good game, Kathryn.”

“Thanks. So was yours.”

Seven stood there, sweat-free and annoyingly calm as usual, while Kathryn wiped down her face and tried to figure out how she could glug a bottle of water and gasp for air all at the same time. Damn, she was out of practice. The final game had nearly cost her an internal organ or two, but her sense of competition—plus the fact that she’d had a whole lot of fury and frustration to get out of her system—had put her ahead. Barely.

“Not good enough,” said Seven. “You were physically struggling, more so than usual. I should have won.”

“God, Seven!” Kathryn had to laugh. “You know, sometimes I forget what a thin veneer your tact really is.”

“What tact?” asked Seven innocently.

“Exactly.” Kathryn flicked her with the towel. “I was not ‘struggling.’ I was…” She trailed off in the face of Seven’s expectant stare. “Okay, fine, I’m out of shape. Life’s been just a little busy for the last six weeks.”

“Since the battle at Terellia,” Seven clarified. “You need more recreation time, Kathryn.”

“Wasn’t I just telling you that a couple of hours ago?”

“One point eight hours, and yes, you were. Which does not negate the truth of my statement.” Seven raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps we could solve both of our problems simultaneously?”

“Same time, same place tomorrow?” asked Kathryn with a happy sense of familiarity.

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Great.” Kathryn reached for her bottle, satisfied that by now she could drain it without worrying about breathing. Ahhhh, what a relief. Not for the first time, she wondered what it must be like to have nanoprobes regulating such body functions as core temperature and perspiration. Lynne didn’t sweat much these days, either. Of course, like the rest of them, she’d hardly had an opportunity to try lately. They had to take care of this Cardassian problem soon—if she was feeling the strain of not getting out for exercise, then Lynne must be ready to climb the walls. Literally.

They packed up their gear, showered and left, the freezing air a violent shock after the heat of the sports complex. Kathryn was grateful to climb inside the hovercraft and shut out the wind.

“Around here they call that a lazy wind,” she told Seven as the engines spun up. “Too lazy to go around you, so it goes right through you.”

“A colorful but apt phrase,” said Seven. “I like it. Did the Velocity games help?”

Kathryn tried to catch up. “With what?”

“Whatever is bothering you. At the house you said you had been thinking in circles for two hours and getting nowhere. And your play during our games could be characterized as suicidal. Three of those points you won only because you were willing to risk significant injury. Which I am certain Lynne would not be pleased to hear about.”

“And I’m equally certain you won’t see any need to tell her,” Kathryn retorted. “But yes, they helped. I’m not any closer to a solution, but at least I’m less stressed about it.”

“Perhaps if you involved more people, we could come up with a solution more quickly.”

Kathryn gave that some thought. “You know what, Seven? You’re right. I think it’s time for a good old-fashioned staff meeting.”

Half an hour later they had collected Revi, Lynne and Gretchen, and rounded up Seven’s brownies and Gretchen’s cinnamon buns. The ‘staff meeting’ took place in the kitchen, where Kathryn quickly filled everyone in on the latest developments and how she hoped to take advantage of them.

“So, assuming we can get a message to whichever Cardassians are still on this contract, where would we want to draw them, and how could we do it without giving the game away?”

“Do you have any idea how many Cardassians are still involved?” asked Gretchen.

Kathryn looked to Revi, who had been helpful on this topic before.

“Possibly,” said Revi. “Traditionally, Obsidian Order cells were comprised of four or six members. Of course, this isn’t an Obsidian Order cell, it’s a group of mercenary assassins, so there’s no way of knowing if they keep to the tradition. But the moment Jefferson Wiler was picked up, we knew the contract was still active, which meant that there was at least one other member. Which would be a traditional cell. I think it’s safe to guess we’re looking at either one or three.”

Kathryn nodded. “I doubt there would be more than that, not least because assassinations are not usually a large group activity. So I’m thinking one, but preparing for three.”

“Well, clearly the only way you’re going to draw these people out is to hold me up for bait,” said Lynne. “Like you said, I’m the weakness.”

“True. But there is no way on this green Earth that I’m putting you in any danger.”

“Kathryn, come on. I’m in danger every hour this goes on. So are you if these people know you helped me kill their buddies. It’s a little late to be worrying about that now.”

“The Cardassians know their Human contact was arrested, right?” asked Gretchen.

“Most likely,” said Kathryn.

“Then they’re probably assuming that Lynne knows the contract is still active. So they’d find it believable if she tried to run away. What if you let it slip that she was on a transport to Mars or something like that? That would change the playing field to a ship, which is your territory.”

Kathryn looked at her mother in surprise. “That’s a really good idea.”

“I do come up with them now and again,” said Gretchen modestly.

 

 

-----

 

 

Elise and Alison had migrated downstairs to the living room, where they were now soaking up heat from the fireplace as they worked on their second bottle of red wine. Elise was visibly more relaxed, though whether that was from the wine or from clearing the sexual tension, Alison wasn’t sure.

Actually, she mused, the sexual tension hadn’t been cleared so much as simply acknowledged. With the pressure off, Elise had become quite tactile, constantly reaching out to touch her, occasionally leaning in for a slow kiss, once taking it right up to the edge of a make-out session and leaving Alison more than a little aroused. But she always backed off again, and somehow it all felt…comfortable. Which was not a sense Alison normally associated with this phase of a relationship.

“You know, I keep thinking of you as a little girl on an alpaca ranch and I’m finding it completely cute,” said Elise. “That’s just not something I’d ever have associated with you. I’m certain it wasn’t on your CV when we hired you.”

“Right, like that was relevant to the job.”

“CVs are supposed to be inclusive, so that employers can properly evaluate a potential employee.”

“Oh, get out. I’ve hired a hundred times more people than you have. Nobody puts on every single bit of employment history. Even if they did, I’d never have time to read it. Neither would my personnel managers.”

“Yes, but alpacas. I mean, what a great way to make sure you stand out from the crowd.”

“I like to think my excellent qualifications are what made me stand out.”

Elise smiled as she refilled their glasses. “Those and your looks.”

“What?!”

“Well, I can’t speak for the rest of the board—though I’m pretty sure Uncle Brian was immune—but Charles and I definitely noticed. You were by far the best-looking candidate.”

“If you tell me that was actually a factor in my hiring, I’m going to get extremely upset.”

It took Elise a moment to realize she was serious. “No, I was just kidding! Well, not about finding you attractive. But please, give me a little more credit than that. I take my job just as seriously as you do.”

“Okay.” Alison was mollified. Two seconds later she was curious. “How attractive?”

Elise laughed. “Very. Charles was commenting that Adele would almost certainly vote against you because you were better-looking than her.”

“You know, that is sadly not surprising. Don’t even tell me if he was right, because I don’t want to know.”

“I wouldn’t have anyway.”

“Good.” Alison sipped her wine. “I have never figured out how those two manage to stay together.”

“To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure either. Charles is a genuinely nice guy. And Adele may be my cousin, but that doesn’t mean I don’t see her clearly. She can be a real bitch. And she recognizes the benefits of the Hamilton fortune a lot more readily than the responsibilities. Somehow Uncle Brian hasn’t managed to pass on his value system to her.”

“Which is precisely why he was grooming you to replace him, and not her.”

“Yeah. And now I never will.” There was a note of sadness in her voice that reached right into Alison’s heart and squeezed it.

“Hey,” she said gently, “never say never.”

Elise’s gaze sharpened. “Do you know something I don’t?”

“Other than Lynne’s priorities? Elise, she worked her ass off to prepare for that board meeting. That is not an exaggeration; I was tutoring her for two solid days and it was like doing a data dump. She was working before I got there in the morning and I’m pretty sure she didn’t stop after I left in the evening. And she didn’t do that because she had a burning desire to sweep through the Foundation and topple heads in a coup. She did it for two reasons: one, she feels an incredible responsibility to her parents’ legacy, and two, she was furious about the assassination attempts.”

“Fuck, I knew it.” Elise put a hand to her forehead.

“The thing is, I learned a lot about her in those two days. I underestimated her—badly. She’s sharp as a tack and she doesn’t care about a lot of the things most people think are important. She sure as hell doesn’t care about wealth or power. She doesn’t want the Chair position because of the title. She wants it because she knows that’s what her parents would have wanted. But she’s not a corporate shark, she’s a mountain climber. And she’s married to a career Starfleet officer who may or may not be shipping out again. I’m not trying to give you false hope. I’m just trying to tell you that you and she have very different approaches to your places on the board, and your lives are very different. It’s possible that once she settles in and figures out who she can trust, she may not want the full responsibilities that she’s signed up for. Especially if she knows she has someone on hand that she could entrust them to.”

Elise was watching her intently, absorbing every word. “So if I do what I’m planning to do anyway, there’s a chance I could turn around some of the mess my mom made? You know, the more I hear from you about Lynne, the more I realize how much unnecessary damage Mom did.”

“A lot,” agreed Alison.

“God. I have to call her.”

“Now is as good a time as any. That bottle of wine you’ve got sloshing around inside you should make it a little easier.”

“Right. Now if only that bottle of wine could tell me just how the hell I can possibly open that conversation.”

“Will it help if I open it for you? And sit next to you?”

She barely had time to react before a pair of very soft lips closed on hers, then nibbled their way down her throat before stopping at the collar of her sweater. Elise raised her head and gave her a grateful smile.

“That would help a lot,” she whispered.

“Great,” said Alison, her voice catching. “Now I just have to recover my language skills.”

 

 

-----

 

 

Night had fallen long before the strategy session finished, and Kathryn still wasn’t done. They had a good plan outlined, but she needed additional resources. It wasn’t like being on Voyager, when everything and everyone on the ship was always right at hand. Now there were calls to be made, favors to be asked, and requisitions to be completed. And of course most of those calls ended up being at least partially social. But this last one had taken care of a major piece to the puzzle, and she only had one left to do. She just hoped that Tuvok would be able to gain Melanie’s cooperation tomorrow, or they’d have to go back to the drawing board and figure out another way to subtly leak the information.

The terminal beeped just as she was reaching for it, indicating another incoming call. She checked the caller’s FedComm ID and smiled in recognition.

“Hello, Alison! It’s good to see you. Have you recovered from your last shift as Lynne’s handler?”

“Nobody ‘handles’ Lynne, Kathryn. And if you manage it then I probably don’t want to hear about it.”

“I manage it about once a year. The rest of the time it’s the other way around. I’m guessing you want to speak with her?”

“I do, but first—congratulations on the amnesty!”

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to you?”

“I was just a bystander during the negotiations. But really—I know that means a hell of a lot to you. It must feel great.”

“It will feel wonderful, if the Council follows through this week.” Kathryn wasn’t going to celebrate until there was a reason. She’d had too many disappointments in the Delta Quadrant to ever get ahead of herself.

“They will,” stated Alison with certainty. “At this point it would be politically stupid not to. And though the Council can be stupid about a lot of things, it’s usually not when it comes to politics.”

“You’ve got a point. I’m having to remind myself how all this works. Politics in the Delta Quadrant were normally much simpler: whoever had the biggest weapons got to set the agenda.”

“So what happened when you didn’t have the biggest ones?”

“Then I either gave them a lesson in strategy, negotiated my way out, or ran like hell.”

Alison laughed. “I’m betting the last one didn’t happen often.”

“Kathryn?”

She turned, finding Lynne poking her head in the study door and making coffee drinking motions with her hands. “Hi, sweetheart. No, I don’t need coffee yet, but thanks. Hey, Alison’s here for you.”

“Oh!” Lynne came in and walked around the desk. “Hi, Alison. What’s up?”

“A lot, actually. I have someone here who really wants to talk to you, but doesn’t know how.”

Kathryn knew instantly that it would be Elise. But from Alison’s house?

“Okaaaay,” said Lynne. “Well, usually you start by saying hello. Who is this person?”

Alison gestured off-screen and scooted to one side. A long moment later, Elise Hamilton appeared in the frame. “Hello, Lynne,” she said.

“Hi, Elise.” Lynne’s voice was friendly, which clearly surprised the other woman. “Hey—I’m sorry about your mother. This whole thing has been a total clusterfuck, for all sorts of people, and I’m truly sorry that you’ve been dragged into it too.”

“You can’t—” Elise was stunned. “You’re apologizing to me?”

To the side, Kathryn saw Alison smile and shake her head slightly.

“I’m just telling you that none of us deserved this mess. And I’m sad that your world got ripped out from under your feet. I know a little bit about how that feels.”

Elise gave a surprised laugh that held no humor at all. “God! I’ve spent the last twenty-four hours trying to figure out how to apologize to you.”

“What for?”

Now Alison was pressing her lips together, and Kathryn had to stifle a smile as well. Lynne was doing a number on poor Elise, though it wasn’t intentional.

“For…for my mother, of course. I can’t even begin to tell you how terrible I feel about what she’s done.”

“Elise,” said Lynne calmly, “so far as I can remember, the only apology you owe is to Alison for the way you treated her at the board meeting. Now, since you’re calling from her house, maybe you’ve already taken care of that.”

“She has,” said Alison. “We’re good.”

“Okay. Then I don’t see why you think you owe me anything. You are in no way responsible for your mother’s actions. Actually, I suspect she’s hurt you more than she has me.”

“It’s been…tough,” Elise admitted. “But I think you’re letting me off way too easily. I’m the one who told her about you. It’s true that I didn’t make her choices, but I did enable them. And I regret that more than I can say.”

Lynne inclined her head. “Then I accept your apology. I know you didn’t do it with malicious intent, and that’s really all that matters.”

“So…that’s it? It’s that easy?”

Alison put her arm around Elise’s shoulder and kissed her on the cheek. “Looks like it,” she said.

Kathryn watched in considerable surprise. How long had these two been an item?

“Yeah, it is. I guess I could make it harder if you really wanted me to,” said Lynne. “But you’ll have to give me some time to think about it.”

“No, no, that’s all right. Don’t go to any trouble. Listen, Lynne—I actually owe you a different apology. And this one really is mine. I’ve known about you for more than a year, but until a few days ago I never realized, consciously, that you’re family. Alison’s been helping you all this time and she isn’t even related. I’m your cousin and I haven’t done shit. Alison kindly pointed that out to me a few days ago—” Alison was smiling and shaking her head again — “and so I did a little research. It looks like I’m descended from your aunt, Hayley Jill Hamilton. She had a daughter, Teresa Janine, who had a son named Richard Hamilton Monroe. Does that sound familiar?”

When Lynne didn’t respond, Kathryn turned to see her staring at the screen. “Lynne?”

“Holy shit,” Lynne said at last. “I just learned about Teresa’s little boy on Wednesday. He was born three years after I was taken off Earth. Jesus Christ, you’re descended from Aunt Hayley?”

“It looks like it. Some of the records were lost in the Third World War, so I can’t be certain, but…I think so.”

“But why are you a Hamilton if you’re descended from a Monroe?”

“I’m not sure, but I can take a guess. The records show that when Richard got married, he reversed his two last names and became Richard Monroe Hamilton. I’m guessing that the Foundation was already a pretty big enterprise by then. Maybe he worked for it—your parents didn’t have a direct heir, after all. And maybe he wanted the power of the name. I can tell you that a lot of my more recent family have jumped through a few hoops to make sure they became or stayed Hamiltons.”

“Wow,” said Lynne. “I’m speechless. You’re my cousin.”

“I am. About eleven times removed.”

Seeing that Lynne really was speechless, Kathryn wrapped an arm around her waist and said, “Elise, we’re glad you called. We’re working on a way to eliminate this Cardassian threat once and for all, but we still need one more piece of the puzzle. I’m wondering if you’d be willing to help.”

“Are you kidding? I’d jump at the chance! What do you need?”

“A message.”

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 50

 

 

Dhara lifted the water container from the replicator and carried it to the living room, where she watered her ficus tree first. The tree had grown enough that it had pushed the soil nearly to the rim of its pot, so she always had to water carefully or risk an overflow. She dribbled the water on, watched it slowly soak in, and dribbled more. Then she noticed a few yellowed leaves and set about removing them.

Her life was focused on the details these days. She needed to keep things simple. In the four days since her link with Revi, she had cleaned the house from top to bottom, rearranged two kitchen cupboards that hadn’t changed in twenty years, and even attempted to tidy up the storage closet in the study. But that had led to her discovery of old photographs and schoolwork from Revi’s childhood, and she’d hurriedly pushed the whole pile back in the closet.

It had taken her two days to work up the courage to approach Nishad. The conversation had been sadly predictable for the most part—he had exploded with anger upon learning what she’d done, and used that anger as a shield against any attempts she’d made to explain why his prejudice against mental sharing was unfounded. He had utterly rejected the idea that he might have any responsibility for Revi’s absence from their lives, asserting that it was Revi’s duty to make the effort to visit and most certainly not the other way around. In the face of his vehement opposition, she had nearly abandoned her intent to ask him the one question that was burning a hole in her heart. But then the image had flashed through her mind—a memory that was not hers, but that she would never, ever be able to forget—and she had asked him anyway.

His anger had turned to a shocked silence. After far too long a time, he’d finally said, “I did nothing wrong. I don’t have to defend myself against such ridiculous accusations.”

Trembling with a combination of fear and desperation, she’d said, “If you weren’t doing anything wrong, then why did you always shut her bedroom door? What was it that I wasn’t supposed to see?”

Normally the strength of his glare would have had her backing down, trying to restore the calm in their house by pacifying him. But this time, with Revi’s memories still vivid in her mind, she did not give in. At last he had turned and, without a word, walked into the study and shut the door.

They had not spoken to each other since.

As she picked off the last yellow leaf, the sound of an incoming call chimed through the house. It was probably Alma, calling to see why she hadn’t shown up at their usual Sunday morning neighborhood coffee meeting. With a sigh, she collected the leaves from the floor and carried them into the kitchen. She’d just tell Alma that she was feeling a little under the weather. It wasn’t even that much of a lie.

Tossing the leaves into the waste recycler, she turned to the wall terminal and stopped, shocked, at the name on the FedComm ID. Quickly she hurried back to the kitchen entrance and closed the door. The six steps back to the terminal seemed like half a kilometer, and when she raised her hand to accept the call, it was visibly shaking.

“Hello, Mother.”

For a moment she couldn’t even speak. Just seeing her daughter on the screen, calling of her own volition, had already exceeded her ability to handle anything more emotionally complex than watering plants. Revi seemed to sense it, because she offered a weak smile and said, “I’m guessing you didn’t expect me to call.”

“That would be a good guess,” Dhara managed. “How are you?”

“Better. You?”

“Not so good,” said Dhara truthfully. She just didn’t have the strength to prevaricate.

“I’m sorry about that. I really…nevermind.” She took a deep breath. “I’d like to see you again. There are some things I need to tell you.”

“Okay.” She was already dreading whatever it was that Revi still needed to say, but if there was one thing she’d come to realize since their last encounter, it was that she owed it to her daughter to listen. No matter how much it hurt.

Revi seemed to be waiting for her to say something else. “Uh, good,” she said after an awkward pause. “Well, I’m at a little coffee shop called Fog Rise, and—”

“You’re here?” asked Dhara, an electric pulse surging through her body. “In San Francisco?”

“Yes. Please don’t tell Father. I only came to see you.”

“I won’t.” She came to see me? “When do you want me to meet you?”

“Whenever you can. Now would be great, but if you’re busy, I can find things to do. We could meet for lunch, maybe, or—”

“No, no, I’ll come now. I know where you are. Give me fifteen minutes.”

“All right. I’ll be here.”

After signing off, Dhara rushed around the house, alternately panicking at the thought of seeing Revi and feeling joyful that she’d actually come. That was a good sign, right? It had to be.

She didn’t bother telling Nishad that she was leaving the house. He probably wouldn’t have responded anyway, but the last thing she needed was any sort of question from him. Still, it felt strange to be walking out the door without at least poking her head into the study and saying she’d see him later. She’d never realized how comforting all of those tiny little routines were, and how empty and edgy their relationship seemed without them.

A brisk ten-minute walk brought her to Fog Rise, where she found Revi sitting at a corner table by the front window, watching for her. Her daughter’s hand was already raised in acknowledgement when their eyes met, and Dhara went through the door feeling deeply unsettled. She’d hoped to see Revi first. It would have given her a few precious seconds to adapt to the shock of seeing her again.

“Thanks for coming,” Revi said as she sat down. “Do you want anything?”

“What are you having?”

“Chai tea. They seem to know how to make it right in this place.”

“That sounds good to me.” Dhara wasn’t up to the task of choosing something off the extensive drinks menu.

She had a reprieve while Revi called a waiter over and placed her order, but it ended all too soon. Revi was watching her with an inscrutable gaze, and she had no idea what was going on behind those eyes. For the first time since their link, she almost wished she could be back in it again.

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” Revi said finally. “And I realized that I’ve behaved pretty badly. I put you in a very difficult position, and left you high and dry once you were there. I want to apologize for practically forcing you into that link, and for not taking better care of you when you were in it. I wouldn’t have done that to a patient of mine, and I shouldn’t have done it to you.”

That was a surprise. “How could you have taken better care of me? You didn’t hurt me, the truth did. And wasn’t the whole point of that to tell each other the truth?”

“Well, yes. But I lost control. There’s telling the truth, and then there’s bashing someone over the head with it.”

“It did feel a bit like that,” Dhara admitted. “But you know what? I’d rather have that than all those years of silence. I’m not even talking about the years you were gone. I’m talking about when you simply stopped coming home. Even if it hurts, I’d rather have you here, connecting with me.”

“Really? But—you look awful.” She shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. I meant—”

“That I look awful,” Dhara said. “Don’t worry, it’s the truth. I feel that way, too. It’s been a little tough, realizing that everything I thought was real—wasn’t.”

Revi looked past her, and a moment later the waiter set her drink down. She thanked him and tasted it, finding it hot and not too sweet.

“You’re right,” she said. “They know how to make it here.”

There was an awkward silence as they both sipped their drinks. At last Revi said, “I’m sorry it’s been so difficult for you.”

She looked at her daughter’s lovely face and winced as the memory sliced across her mind once again. That same face, so many years ago, staring into a mirror with an expression far, far older than should have been possible. Even the memories of the beatings hadn’t hurt her the way this one did. Perhaps because Revi’s memories of the beatings were more visceral, and the images never included her own face. But the memory of the mirror—that was the one that showed the true damage.

“It’s been difficult for me for exactly four days,” she said. “But you’ve been dealing with this all your life.”

Revi nodded. “Thank you for acknowledging that.”

“Revi…I need to say this again, because I know you didn’t really hear me the first time. If I had been able to believe that your father was capable of that, I would never have let it happen. I swear to you, I never, ever meant to abandon you.” The tears rose to her eyes so quickly that she didn’t even have time to blink. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, fumbling for her napkin.

With her head down as she blotted her eyes, she never saw the hand until it was covering her own. The gesture undid her, and she squeezed Revi’s hand convulsively as she tried to keep up with the tears. “I keep seeing you,” she said, not daring to look up. “Looking in the mirror after—after it happened. You must have been about fourteen years old, but your face, it looked…you looked like an adult. A weary woman who’d seen too much. That memory haunts me.” She raised her head then, seeing Revi watching intently. “I would give anything—anything—to take that expression off your face. To go back in time and save that little girl. I failed her, and that…oh, Revi, that hurts me so much more than anything else.”

Though Revi said nothing, she had to wipe her own eyes, and Dhara was startled at the sight of the clamp. “You’re not wearing your glove,” she said.

Revi looked at the clamp, shrugged, and lifted her cup of tea with it. “You’ve seen it now,” she said. “I only wore the glove to keep from upsetting you and Father any more than I was going to anyway. It’s a pain in the ass. Kind of like wearing mittens—your fingers are in there but you can’t use them for anything.”

Dhara nodded, fascinated by the sight of her using the clamp so adroitly.

“I wish you could go back in time, too,” Revi said. “I can’t even imagine how different things would have been if I’d felt like I had an ally in that house.”

“You always had an ally.”

Revi drew her hand back. “You’re a peacemaker, Mother. You were always more interested in keeping the peace with Father than speaking up for me.”

Her hand felt cold, and she curled it around her teacup. “I’m not keeping the peace now. Your father and I haven’t spoken for two days.”

That shocked her, she could see. “You told him?”

“I told him everything. I told him what we did, and when he finished blowing up over that, I told him what I knew.”

“Gods, Mother. What did he say?”

“He denied it.”

“Of course.” Revi closed down instantly.

“And I called him on it.”

“You did?”

“I asked him why he always shut your door if he hadn’t been doing anything wrong. He wouldn’t answer. I think he couldn’t answer. And we haven’t said a word to each other since.”

“Holy shit,” Revi said quietly. “I wish I’d been there to see that.”

“There wasn’t much to see. And I really don’t know what to do now. Will he ever admit the truth? How long do I wait? What do I do if he does admit it? I’ve been walking around my house in a daze, and the only things I can handle are simple little chores. That place has never been so clean. I missed my coffee with the ladies this morning, because I couldn’t face them. I’m pretty sure their spouses are still exactly who they’re supposed to be. But mine isn’t.”

Revi was looking at her with an odd expression on her face. “Well, hell,” she said, almost to herself. “Doctors’ wives die young.”

“What?”

“Something Lynne said. A quotation from her time, about how we don’t take care of those closest to us. Cobblers’ wives go barefoot, and doctors’ wives die young.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m a doctor. It should have occurred to me that the aftermath of this would be hard for you. But I just…didn’t think about it.”

“You didn’t think about it? When I sat there in your living room and asked you not to walk away from me, because I didn’t know how to deal with everything you’d just shown me?”

“I was a little upset, Mother.”

“So was I!”

Revi lifted her hand in a mollifying gesture. “Okay. I know. I’m sorry, I’ve handled this badly from start to finish. I guess Counselor Troi was right.”

“Who is that?”

“The counselor that I’m seeing right now. She’s the one who reminded me that what you did in that link took a lot of courage, because you had zero experience in it, and in that moment I was essentially responsible for you. And she also told me that I’m a little behind the times in dealing with this. I never have until now. Which means that while I’m using the intellect of an adult, my emotional responses are…a little less mature.”

Suddenly Dhara understood. “You’re still that girl in the mirror.”

With a grimace, Revi said, “Something like that.” She reached for her cup.

“Then maybe I can still save her.”

Revi paused with the cup halfway to her mouth, looking at her in surprise. “That’s an interesting way of putting it.”

“If you’re just now dealing with it, well…I am, too. In a way we’re at the same stage. Revi…I need to ask you something.” It had been hurting her for days now, yet she hadn’t thought she could ever come right out and ask. But after asking Nishad the hardest question she’d ever uttered in her lifetime, somehow this one didn’t seem quite so difficult.

“Go ahead.”

Not that it still wasn’t hard. She took a deep breath, let it out—and then had to take another one.

“Mother, just ask me. Don’t start hyperventilating.”

“Okay. Please don’t be angry with me.”

“I can’t promise that. But I can promise that if I do get angry, I’ll handle it better than I did last time.”

That wasn’t very encouraging. But she’d gotten this far, so…

“I know that you feel abandoned, and that I never protected you. Well, I didn’t. But you never gave me the chance. I keep thinking about it, and I have to ask you—” She took another breath, her throat already tightening in anticipation. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? You healed your own wounds and hid them from me. Don’t you know I’d have acted if I’d seen those?”

Revi didn’t get angry. She didn’t seem to react at all, other than breaking their eye contact and studying her tea. “I’m not sure,” she said finally. “I think I was just waiting for you to rescue me. If I had to ask for it, then…it wouldn’t be a rescue. Shit, I’m not explaining this very well.”

“Maybe we need an interlink,” Dhara joked weakly.

“Maybe.” Revi took her seriously. “Maybe my mistake was initiating that link too soon. We should have talked about it before, gotten some of the hard stuff out of the way earlier. But then, I don’t think you’d have believed me.” Before Dhara could respond, she added, “I always assumed you knew. I didn’t see how you couldn’t know. So if you weren’t coming in to rescue me, then it meant that you either agreed with what Father was doing, or you just didn’t care. Either way, I wasn’t going to let you see how much it mattered to me. I wouldn’t let you or Father see that I was hurt. He could beat me, but he couldn’t break me.”

“Oh, gods above and below us.” She hadn’t thought it was possible to hurt any more than she already had been, but she’d clearly been mistaken. This was simply unbearable. “So much pain, for both of us, because of the assumptions of a child. Revi, please, please believe me—if you had come to me and shown me those wounds, I would have done what I did two days ago. I’d have asked Nishad about it. I know, it’s fine for me to say it now. But it’s true, I swear it.”

“I don’t know if I can believe you.” Revi’s voice was raw. “You fought me even in an interlink. The only reason you finally gave in and believed me in the first place was because you couldn’t deny my memories.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to deny the marks on your body, either!” Dhara put her face in her hands. Gods, she was so tired. She just wanted to lie down and sleep, and let all of this slip away for a few precious hours. It hurt too much, and it was never going to end.

After a very long silence, she heard Revi sigh. “Maybe you would have believed me,” she said. “In which case I’m partly responsible for all of this, too.”

“Oh, no.” That brought her head up. “Don’t you even start. It was never your responsibility. You were a child. I’m not trying to shove off my own culpability onto you. I just…I just wish you’d said something. Given me the chance to help you. I feel so helpless now; it’s too late and the damage has been done and there’s nothing I can do, and it’s so hard.” She finished up in a whisper, feeling guilty about saying even that much, because if there was one thing she was sure of, it was that Revi’s pain far outstripped her own.

Revi shook her head. “You’re wrong about that.”

“About what?”

“There is something you can do. And you’ve already done it. You asked Father. You put him on the spot and you forced him to face it, and he walked away and hasn’t talked to you for two days because of it. You have no idea what it means to me that you did that. It feels good, Mother. You stood up for me.”

A tiny ray of light entered her soul. “You’re my daughter.” This, at least, was a reality that did not change.

And though Revi’s answering smile was small, it was enough to break her heart.

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 51

 

 

Gohat was not in a good mood. The entire night had passed without any sign of Lynne Hamilton coming aboard Voyager. His nerves were jangling from two nights in a row of sitting, tensed over his operations panel, waiting for the magic moment that never came. Something was wrong and he didn’t know what it was, and his inability to find out was frustrating him to no end.

The Borg alcoves were still on Voyager. He’d double-checked and there was no doubt that Borg components were still sucking power in the cargo bay. Moreover, his continual planet-wide scans for Borg energy signatures still came up empty. Whatever method Hamilton and her two machine friends had found for hiding their true nature, it was still working and they were still suspicious enough to keep using it.

He’d read and watched every bit of news collected by his filtering program, and though there was significant coverage of Melanie Hamilton’s arrest, Lynne Hamilton’s name was never mentioned except as the target of Melanie’s attempted sabotage. Not a single clue could he find, no matter how carefully he looked. He was almost frustrated enough to just beam down to Janeway’s next public appearance and take her hostage, except for the fact that Starfleet was undoubtedly on the highest security alert regarding her, and his Cardassian life signs would have alarms ringing all over the planet as soon as he materialized. If his partners hadn’t been killed, they could have conducted an organized raid and grabbed the captain anyway—but then, if they hadn’t been killed, he wouldn’t be forced to even think about using a hostage as bait for his real target. It was untidy and completely beneath him, but he might actually have to consider it if he couldn’t find another way.

The beep of his communication panel sounded loud in the small ship, and he jerked upright in surprise. With both Wiler and Melanie Hamilton in prison, he couldn’t imagine who would be contacting him.

Unless it was Starfleet. If that bitch had made a bargain with Starfleet, he could be in trouble. Messages to the ship were bounced off a dozen relays, but that didn’t mean that a highly skilled professional couldn’t eventually track down the final destination. But Starfleet would hardly be warning him in advance if they were on his tail.

With a stop to make sure his engines were ready to take him out on a moment’s notice, he went to the panel, checked the FedComm ID, and had the second surprise of his day. Elise Hamilton? Was the daughter taking over the mother’s work?

He activated the message, staring in fascination at the woman who was so clearly her mother’s daughter. Same eyes, same nose…same display of total assurance.

“My name is Elise Hamilton,” the woman said coolly, staring straight out of the terminal. “My mother gave me this code, and before I say anything else, let me assure you that she did not give it to Starfleet. They have no evidence connecting her to this contract, so she’s not about to hand them what they need to charge her. They don’t have much evidence on the sabotage charge, either, and I think she’ll be out just as soon as our lawyer finishes dealing with all the crap Starfleet is throwing up in front of us.

“But the damage is already done. Our name will never recover from this. And I will never recover from the fact that after more than a decade of good work, I’ve been publicly fired from my job as Hamilton fund manager, and demoted on the Foundation’s board of directors. My mom is in prison and I’m out of a job, an income and the respect I’ve worked for all my life, all because of Lynne Hamilton.” Her expression hardened. “You and I have a common enemy. I don’t know how many of you are left, but I do know that you’re three fewer than you once were. Yes, I’ve seen Starfleet’s evidence. I also know that Mom tried to cancel this contract, but that was before they arrested her. She’s asked me to help you finish the job. I hope you’re up to it. Lynne Hamilton has already defeated you twice. Don’t let it happen a third time.”

He was so furious with the woman’s arrogant disrespect that he almost didn’t hear her next words. But when the sound of rushing blood cleared from his ears, he sat up straight and watched her closely.

“I have a few more connections than you do, apparently. And while I can’t find out where that woman is hiding, I did find out that she’s running. She knows the contract is still active, and she’s leaving Earth. Captain Janeway is pulling strings inside Starfleet, using military transportation to keep her wife out of the public data streams.” Her smile was decidedly cold. “Fortunately, I have access to other data streams. They’re flying her out tomorrow. That’s Monday, February eleventh. She’ll be on a ship called the Tagus. I can’t find out where it’s going; they’ve classified the flight plan too deeply for me to reach it. And I don’t know what time they’re leaving. That part will be up to you to deal with.”

Her eerie light eyes were unblinking as she said, “I want that woman out of the picture. The double pay offer my mother made you is still valid. When I hear the news that Lynne Hamilton is dead, I’ll make the transfer. I hope to hear that news very soon.”

The message ended. He immediately reactivated it, this time watching her facial expressions and body language. She didn’t seem nervous or awkward, which he’d have expected if Starfleet had forced her to record this as a means of saving her mother. To the contrary, she seemed genuinely angry. And just as arrogant as her mother.

It could still be a trap. She had an incentive to work with Starfleet if they were going to imprison her mother on attempted sabotage charges. But he knew a bit about the Federation justice system, and he also knew that his cell’s organizational structure precluded the possibility of evidence being available to charge their employers. That was part of the service they provided, and what had helped make them so successful. Melanie Hamilton would be a fool if she voluntarily offered evidence of her conspiracy to commit murder as a means of bargaining out a lesser charge.

The fact that Elise Hamilton hadn’t given him specifics on the departure time and destination of the ship also seemed to indicate that this wasn’t a trap. If it was, he was pretty sure that Starfleet would want to make it as sweet as possible. They weren’t known for their subtlety.

Well, he would proceed cautiously. But if this was for real, it was too good to pass up. He wanted this to be done, once and for all. And he wanted to leave this pit in the galaxy far behind him.

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 52

 

 

Elise was in the shower again. Recording that message had made her almost physically ill, and Alison had taken her straight home afterward. Her performance had been amazing, but the aftermath looked dangerously close to a breakdown. For a moment Alison had been angry at Kathryn and Lynne for putting Elise in that position, but then she’d managed to take a step back and recover her normal perspective. Elise had wanted to do it. She had leaped at the chance to make up for the damage her mother had done. But it had been difficult to watch.

She heard the water shut off and just barely restrained herself from rushing up the stairs. Elise had asked for a little space, and she would honor that, even though she wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. One thing she’d learned about Elise over the last twelve hours was that this woman craved physical contact. Surely she must need it now more than ever? But she picked up her book again and forced herself to read, not that she would ever remember a word of the pages she turned. By the time Elise finally walked into the living room, clean and dressed in her new casual clothes, Alison was so tense that she stood up from the couch without thinking. She remembered her promise just in time and paused, but Elise closed the distance and hugged her anyway.

“How are you?” asked Alison, pulling back to look into her eyes.

“Fine. Sorry about freaking out back there. You must think I’m a delicate little flower.”

“Good God, no, I think you’re incredible. So do Kathryn and Lynne.”

“Then it was worth it, even if it doesn’t work.” She stepped away from the couch and sat cross-legged on the floor, as close to the fire as she could get without setting her jeans alight. “Thanks for turning this on. I’m having a hard time keeping warm.”

“Even in those?” Alison gestured toward her thermal shirt, vest and warm boots. Kathryn had replicated the set for her at Starfleet Headquarters upon finding out that Elise hadn’t been home in two days. A second set of clothing was still upstairs.

“Yes. Strange, isn’t it?”

Without a word Alison crossed to the cupboard against the wall, pulled out the wool blanket, and brought it back to drape over Elise’s shoulders. “How’s that?” she asked, settling down on the floor in front of her.

Elise tugged the blanket around her. “Better already, thank you.” She paused, fingering the material. “Is this—”

“Alpaca wool, yes. From my mom’s ranch.”

“No wonder it sells for so much. It’s so soft and light!”

“And it has incredibly high thermal properties. The colors are all natural, too. That’s not dyed wool, it’s wool from different colored animals.”

“It’s beautiful.” Elise rubbed her cheek on it. “I can’t get over how soft it is.”

“And you look beautiful in it.” Alison realized too late that this probably wasn’t the time. “Sorry. I don’t seem to be able to turn that off around you.”

“That’s okay. I don’t think I want you to turn that off.” She gave Alison a slight smile, then turned to gaze into the flames. “God, I hope it works.”

Accepting the non-sequitur, which wasn’t really all that unexpected, Alison scooted a little closer. “Me too. Those people are amazingly good at their jobs, though. If the Cardassian takes the bait, it’s over.”

“I wonder how Lynne feels about being bait?”

“I think she’s itching to get her hands on whoever it is that’s been causing her so much trouble.”

Elise settled an elbow on her knee and rested her chin in her hand. “That would be my mom.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“But it’s true. That’s what made me so sick about it. Because I had to think like her to be convincing. That’s what Kathryn said.”

“When she was prepping you?” After spending considerable time explaining the concept and the goal of the message, and drilling Elise over and over in the key points she needed to say, Kathryn had taken her into a separate room to ‘mentally prepare her,’ as she’d put it. Alison had stayed with Lynne and Tuvok, trying to keep her mind off of what Elise was probably going through. When the two women had finally emerged, Elise’s face had been so hard and cold that Alison had barely recognized her. She’d had no opportunity to approach her then, as Kathryn had waved her off while directing Elise to sit in front of the terminal Tuvok had set for the recording. And immediately afterward—well, that hadn’t been a good time to talk about it either.

“She told me the most amazing story,” said Elise. “Did you know that Lynne’s assimilation was personal? I mean, it wasn’t just the Borg grabbing anyone who got in their way. It was the Borg Queen herself, and she took Lynne specifically.”

“No! I haven’t heard any of this.”

“Apparently Kathryn and the Borg Queen had some kind of major power struggle going on. Part of it was over Seven of Nine. And part of it—now, this is my interpretation, so don’t you dare tell Kathryn—but those women were both alpha bitches and they hated each other. It was a grudge match. When the Borg Queen found out that Lynne and Kathryn were married, she saw a chance to bait a trap for Kathryn and hurt her, very badly and very personally, all at the same time. Kathryn said the only way she was able to rescue Lynne was to put herself in the mind of the Borg Queen and try to imagine what it was that she wanted, what her goals and motivations were, and why she’d chosen Lynne. That was what I had to do, put myself in the mind of a different me. The me I’d be if…if I were like my mother. Kathryn started listing off all the things that have happened, the things I could be angry about, and she did it in such a way that I really did get angry.”

“At Lynne?”

“No. At my mother.” Elise turned her head and met Alison’s eyes. “Kathryn was trying to make me think like her, but I can’t. The more I thought about what’s happened, the more I realized that all of it has happened because of Mom, not Lynne. I lost my job because of her, I probably lost my position on the board because of her, my family is shattered, I had to call Stephen and tell him hey, guess what, Mom’s in prison because she tried to kill one hundred and forty-eight people, and you can imagine how well that went. Anyway, I was thinking about all this, and then Kathryn asked how I’d show that anger if I were like Mom. I said Mom is always in control, she shoves it down, and she gets what she wants. And Kathryn said good, then you know exactly what to do. She pointed toward the door and said, that woman is taking everything of value away from you, everything you’ve worked for. You want her dead. Now go out there and tell that Cardassian exactly how to kill her.”

“Jesus. No wonder you looked so cold.”

“Did I?”

“You came out of that room looking like a whole different person.”

“Well, in a way, I was.”

“So…” Alison didn’t quite know how to ask. “What happened afterward?”

Elise dropped her head. “That is so embarrassing.”

“No, it’s not. Come on, Elise. Everyone in that room thought you were terrific. Christ, you nailed it on your first try! They were just worried about you and wanting to help.” She paused. “Well, Commander Tuvok looked like he wished he were somewhere else.”

Elise snorted. “Vulcans aren’t keen on being around hysterical Humans.”

“You weren’t hysterical. You were just very upset.”

“Where exactly is the line between those two?” When Alison made no answer, Elise sighed and said, “What happened was that I said those words about wanting Lynne out of the picture and making the transfer when I’d heard she was dead, and suddenly I knew my mom had said those exact same things. I don’t mean I imagined it, I mean I knew it. Mom and I have a lot of the same speech patterns. And that connection…knowing that we’d both said it, but she meant it…I really thought I was going to throw up then.” She looked sideways at Alison. “Sorry about the false alarm.”

“I’m just glad you didn’t have to use it.” Alison had gone running for a wastebasket after seeing Elise turn deathly pale and cover her mouth. But by the time she’d returned, Lynne was crouched next to the chair, telling Elise to put her head down on her knees, rubbing her back and assuring her that it was just a recording, it hadn’t been real.

“It was such a mental disconnect. First hearing my mom’s voice echoing in my head when I said those words, and then hearing Lynne’s voice for real, telling me it was okay. All I could think was, it’s not okay.”

“That’s what you said.” Several times.

“I don’t remember saying anything. I just wanted to get the hell out of there. It was hard to even look Lynne in the face.”

“I think she understood.” Alison put an arm around her back, wanting to comfort her. “I actually had a hard time looking at her or Kathryn for a while there.”

Elise’s head came up in surprise. “Why?”

“Because I was so angry that they’d put you in such a terrible position.”

“They didn’t ‘put me’ anywhere. I wanted to do it.”

“I know. I reminded myself of that. But I was still angry.”

A smile ghosted across Elise’s face. “Feeling a bit protective, perhaps?”

“Maybe. I’m not admitting anything.”

“Right.” Elise leaned in and kissed her, for the first time since they’d returned home. “Thank you for being protective, even though you’re not admitting it. And don’t forget that there was nobody else who could have recorded that message. It had to be me. I’m glad I could do it. I’m just feeling a little ridiculous now. The things those women have been through, and you’d never know it to look at them…and then I fall apart over a stupid recording.”

“Stop it,” said Alison, just as the wall terminal chimed. She rose, dropping a kiss on Elise’s forehead and adding, “Believe me, ridiculous is the last word I’d apply to you. ‘Strong’ would be a better one.” A few steps took her to the terminal, where she saw exactly the name she’d been expecting. “It’s for you.”

“It is?” Elise stood up, draping the blanket over the back of the couch as she came over. “Oh.” She accepted the call, her voice decidedly unenthusiastic as she said, “Hi, Lynne.”

“Hi. Are you feeling better?”

“I’m fine. Just embarrassed.”

“Oh, god, don’t be. I was actually thinking I might be calling too soon; that you hadn’t had enough time yet. Elise, I’m really sorry. I had no idea recording that message would hit you that way, but if I’d thought about it—”

“If you’d thought about it, you’d have remembered that I was the only one who could do it, and you didn’t have much choice. Don’t be sorry. It had to be done. I’m glad I could help.”

“You helped a lot. Kathryn said that was far and above what she’d been hoping for. She’s very optimistic that it’ll work.”

“I really hope so. For everyone’s sake.”

Lynne nodded. “Thank you for doing it. And for getting that code from your mother. If we pull this off tomorrow, it will be because of you. I won’t forget that.”

“I owed it to you.”

“The fact that you believe that says a lot.” She eyed the two of them, standing side by side, and smiled. “Take care of her, Alison.”

“I will.”

“I’ll call tomorrow.”

“You’d better,” said Alison. “I mean that.”

“We’re taking every precaution. But the trap won’t work without bait. I have to be there. And frankly, I’m looking forward to meeting this bastard. Or these bastards, if there’s more than one. I think we might have a few things to say to each other. Elise—thanks again. You were amazing.”

She signed off, leaving Elise and Alison looking at each other.

“You know,” said Elise, “for the first time I’m thinking maybe I’ve misplaced my pity. Those Cardassians aren’t going to know what hit them, are they?”

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 53

 

 

The first searches hadn’t returned a single record on a ship called the Tagus. Gohat had begun to think that Elise Hamilton was either an idiot or had been feeding him bad information for some inexplicable reason. But then he drilled into protected Starfleet records and discovered why the Tagus didn’t exist in general data sources: it was a new ship, just built at Earth Station McKinley, and still making test runs. That made it a perfect ship to transport someone off the grid—no passenger list would exist, not even within the protected Starfleet database, since ships still in testing would never have passengers. They didn’t even have full crews. Captain Janeway had indeed chosen well.

His computer penetration skills were unfortunately not up to breaking into the classified flight plan. That had been Nivel’s specialty. But he had not gotten this far in his career by letting the first wall stop him; there were other ways to gain information. When he broke into the records of Earth Station McKinley, which were not nearly so well encrypted, he found that the Tagus was scheduled for an 0630 departure the following morning. Not much time to plan an assault, but enough.

Being a careful man, he checked the records of the other three local Starfleet shipyards, and discovered that the USS Valiant was also departing Earth orbit at 0630. A coincidence, surely, that a heavily armed Defiant class warship would be leaving Earth at precisely the same moment as a much more lightly armed vessel, which happened to be carrying his target.

Except he didn’t believe in coincidence. The Valiant was going as escort, he was certain of it. And a back check of records showed that the previous test run of the Tagus, just four days earlier, had not included any escorts, warship or otherwise.

Was Janeway simply protecting her wife, or was she setting a trap? Did she have the necessary influence within Starfleet to manage this kind of protection?—the co-opting of a test flight and the use of an entire warship? Or was Starfleet allocating these resources as part of a legal operation?

A few more minutes of reflection brought him to the conclusion that it didn’t matter. Even if she were setting a trap, he was already forewarned. The sudden appearance of a warship off his bow would not be the surprise they expected it to be. Now it was simply a matter of figuring out how to avoid the trap and still snatch the bait. Because if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that Lynne Hamilton would be on board the Tagus. Janeway was too smart to set a trap without bait; she would know that he would never make a move unless it were worthwhile. And even if it turned out not to be a trap, then the existence of a warship escort indicated that Janeway was taking no chances with the safety of her wife. No, Hamilton would be there.

And so would he.

 

 

 

 

---

chapter 54

 

 

“Ready?” asked Kathryn.

“Ready. Let’s get it done.” Lynne turned to Gretchen for a goodbye hug. “Please don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”

Gretchen, still in her bathrobe, tried to snort but didn’t quite carry it off. “It had better be. Or I’ll be extremely upset with both of you.”

For the first time, it occurred to Kathryn that her mother had never before watched a loved one go into certain danger. Her father’s career had been in diplomacy and strategy; a safe life that was cut short by a twist of fate, not any foreseen danger. But this was different, and it showed in Gretchen’s face. She wanted to reassure her, to tell her that in the larger scheme of her career this wasn’t even particularly dangerous, but she knew that words would never suffice.

“I promise I’ll bring her back,” she said. “And I always keep my promises.”

“She does,” Seven confirmed. “Besides, we’ll be there to make sure of it.”

“Just make sure you’re back by lunch,” Gretchen said, putting on a brave face. “I’m making your grandmother’s fried chicken recipe. Don’t be late. It’s not the same once it gets cold.”

“We’ll be back long before then,” Revi assured her. “And we’ll be hungry.”

“Good. Because I have chocolate chip banana bread for dessert.”

“Oh hell,” said Lynne. “I am definitely coming back for that.”

 

 

-----

 

 

“Captain on deck!” Jorel announced, barely able to conceal his awe. Captain Janeway was on his ship. When he’d received the orders he’d been first stunned and then as excited as a new cadet piloting his first shuttle. Now he was simply trying not to look like a drooling idiot as the famous captain stepped onto his bridge, accompanied by her gorgeous wife.

“As you were,” said Janeway. “And thank you for giving Lynne and me a lift.”

His bridge crew chuckled, already put at ease by her calm assurance. “It’s our pleasure,” said Jorel. “I’m sure you’ll find the Tagus up to the task.”

“I’m sure I’ll find her and her crew up to the task. May I?” She gestured at the first officer’s chair, and when he nodded she turned to her wife. “Have a seat, Lynne.”

“And where are you going to sit?” Lynne Hamilton looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“I’ll stand behind you.”

“No. Captain, take my chair, please,” said Jorel. “Ms. Hamilton can have the first officer’s chair, and I will stand.”

Janeway turned to pin him with a serious stare. “Captain Jorel, the Tagus is your ship. I have no intention of captaining her—that’s an honor you’ve earned. We’re just here to enjoy your hospitality for as long as it takes to get this done.”

“But I can captain the ship while standing.”

“Not if you can’t see the displays at your station.” She gestured toward the panels built into his chair arms.

“This is ridiculous,” said Lynne. “It will be easier for me to stand.” She and Janeway shared a look before the captain shrugged.

“All right. Captain, whenever you’re ready.” She strolled to the chair and gracefully draped herself into it, making Jorel feel like a clod by comparison. He waited until Ms. Hamilton had taken up her position behind the captain and then sat down in his own chair, savoring the sensation. The Tagus was his first command, and he was nearly as proud of her as he’d been of his son’s birth. Not that he would ever tell his wife that.

“Lieutenant Delphin, take us out of dock. Half-thrusters.”

“Aye, sir.”

On the bridge-spanning viewscreen—one of his favorite things about this ship—the walls of the dock began to slide past. It was a view he never tired of, giving him a tremendous sense of anticipation.

“We’re clear of the dock,” announced Delphin.

“Bring us around and engage engines, one-quarter impulse until we clear the orbital zone.”

“Aye, sir.”

The subtle change of the engines thrummed in his sensitized ears as the ship moved away from Earth. Soon they were passing the Moon and nosing out into open space, where they changed up to full impulse. Twenty-one minutes after that they passed the boundary of the inner system, and Jorel ordered the jump to warp six.

“Is our escort on sensors?” he asked.

“No, sir.”

“Good,” commented Janeway. “If we can’t see it, they can’t see it.”

Yes, thought Jorel, but if we can’t see it, how can we be certain it will be in the right place at the right time? He’d had no experience with this sort of tactic before, and the unknowns were making him nervous. But Captain Janeway sat there in a pose of total ease, her legs crossed and her hands loosely linked in her lap, and he felt himself calming just from looking at her. This woman knew what she was doing.

After thirty minutes at warp, the total lack of activity had reduced his tension to nearly nothing. It was almost possible to believe that they were merely on another test run, albeit far slower than the last one had been. Then the guest in that chair had been Commander Tuvok, who had sat just as quietly and silently as Captain Janeway was now. And yet—he looked at her again from the corner of his eye—the quality of that silence was entirely different. Commander Tuvok had the stillness of a person removed from the situation. Captain Janeway had the ease of a person very much inside the situation, but in absolute control of it.

This was the kind of captain he wanted to be. He wondered if this ease was something she’d been born with, something she’d learned in training, or something that had happened to her in those Delta Quadrant years. Maybe all three. Probably all three, because he knew other captains who’d been through hell in the Dominion War, and their experiences hadn’t given them this kind of assured calm in the face of impending combat. Suddenly he understood exactly why the crew of Voyager had survived seven full years alone, without backup or support.

Behind Captain Janeway, whose gaze stayed on the viewscreen, he could see Ms. Hamilton looking around and observing the bridge curiously. He knew it was a great deal smaller than what she’d been used to on Voyager, but the layout was extremely efficient. He tried to see it through her eyes, and noted that his crew worked the stations silently and with total professionalism. Though they’d only been together as a crew for a few weeks, he felt they were already a good team. It occurred to him that Captain Janeway hadn’t even had her crew that long before being thrown into the Delta Quadrant. If he and his crew were tossed into another quadrant right now, would they pull together the way hers had?

His musings were interrupted by a phaser attack that came out of nowhere, jarring them all in their seats, and he looked at his operations officer in shock. “What the hell was that?”

“A Cardassian runabout, sir! I don’t know where it came from, it wasn’t on sensors a few seconds ago—I’ve been running constant sweeps!”

“It wasn’t on my sensors either,” his weapons officer confirmed. “I’ve notified the Valiant.” She was fresh out of the Academy, and though clearly nervous in her first combat situation, she hadn’t forgotten her orders.

“Good. Helm, evasive action. Ensign Philoznia, what’s our shield status?” he demanded, as they all hung on for a second hit.

“Down to eighty-five percent on the aft port shields.”

“Return fire, full phasers.”

They waited, clinging to their seats as the ship shuddered repeatedly and Ensign Philoznia sweated over her weapons panel. “Targeting scanners can’t lock on!” she cried in frustration. “That ship is dodging everything!”

“Switch to manual,” he said. “Ops, monitor shield strength. What’s the ETA of the Valiant?”

“Three point eight minutes.”

“I’d like that ship under control before they get here,” he said, hoping to instill some confidence in his crew. “Let’s show them that the escort was appreciated but not needed.”

But the repeated shuddering of their ship was not a good sign, nor was the steady readout of their diminishing aft port shields.

“They know what they’re doing,” said Janeway. “They’re opening a hole in the shields.”

Shit! “Reroute power to aft shields! Philoznia, report,” he called.

“Two direct hits, sir, but this thing is damned hard to hit and our phasers don’t seem to be doing any damage.”

“Keep at it. If you have a clear shot, fire torpedoes.”

“Yes, sir.”

The extra power to their rear shields helped, but it was clearly going to be a stopgap measure in the face of the continual assault on what Jorel now realized was a single, precise point. He was more grateful than he would ever admit by the appearance of the Valiant off their bow.

“This is the USS Valiant to unknown Cardassian ship,” came the calm voice of their captain. “Break off your attack or be destroyed.”

As the ship shuddered again, Hamilton commented wryly, “I don’t think they’re listening.”

“Tagus, we have no clear shot. The ship is right on top of you.”

“Valiant, take it anyway,” Jorel said.

Janeway sat up sharply. “No, wait—”

The Valiant opened fire, and this time the impact felt twice as strong.

“No damage to the Cardassian,” reported Philoznia. “But our aft shields are at fifteen percent. There’s a hole opening!”

Janeway jumped out of her chair, turning to face her wife, who looked back at her with wide eyes. Another shudder, and Jorel watched in horror as Hamilton’s body began to shimmer.

“Jam that transporter!” he shouted, but he knew even as he gave the order that it was too late. Hamilton dissolved, leaving Janeway staring at empty space where her wife had been.

They had one last chance.

“Valiant, the ship is leaving. You’ll have a clear shot,” he called. “Target propulsion systems only!”

“Understood.”

“Philoznia, give them some help.”

“Yes sir!”

Jorel watched on screen as the Cardassian ship moved away from his ship, paused—and disappeared. He spun around to face his ops officer. “Can you track it?”

“I’m…no, sir. There’s no sign of it.”

“How did a Cardassian runabout get a cloaking device?” he demanded.

Janeway tapped her commbadge. “Janeway to Delta Flyer. Is it transmitting?”

“We have it.”

“Launch.” She turned to Jorel. “Open your shuttle bay doors, Captain, or the Flyer is going right through them.”

He nodded to his ops officer, feeling about two centimeters high. No matter what she’d told him in the beginning, he had hoped to prevent Hamilton from being taken at all.

“Don’t worry, Captain,” she said reassuringly. “Our Cardassian friends don’t know who they’re dealing with.”

 

 

-----

 

 

Seven kept one eye on the frequency she was tracking and another on Tom Paris, who had cleared the shuttle bay doors with perhaps one meter to spare. “I don’t believe it would have impacted the outcome of our mission if you’d waited for the doors to open all the way,” she observed.

The tips of Tom’s ears were red. “They don’t open as quickly as Voyager’s,” he admitted. “Going to warp six.”

“Insufficient,” said Seven half a minute later. “Doppler shift shows them at warp seven.”

“That’s pushing it,” said Revi from behind her.

“Ha!” Tom increased speed. “You don’t know the Delta Flyer. She can handle it.”

“I was talking about the Cardassian runabout, Tom.”

“We’re gaining,” Seven reported. “But not quickly enough.”

“Warp seven point seven five,” Tom said.

“Better,” said Seven in satisfaction.

“Do you think that runabout is ready for Borg phasers?” asked Revi conversationally.

 

 

-----

 

 

Gohat beamed his prey directly into the containment unit with a hoarse shout of triumph. Finally! It had been difficult to locate her; she must still have been using whatever device allowed her to scatter her Borg energy signatures. But what was impossible to see from an orbital scan had been feasible from close proximity—barely.

He banked steeply, throwing off yet another phaser shot from the Tagus, and estimated that he had about five seconds before the Valiant started firing torpedoes. Fortunately, he only needed three. The cloaking device powered up, he changed direction once again just in case they fired at his last position, and then went straight to warp. A quick scan showed both the Tagus and the Valiant sitting in space, baffled. Only then did he allow himself a smile. So typical of Starfleet, to assume that bigger was better. A warship like the Valiant was only good in wide open combat, not close-in situations. If Janeway had been smart, she’d have taken single-pilot fighters with her. That would have been a serious problem for him. But he’d counted on her arrogance, and he’d been right.

He set the ship to autopilot, checked the positions of the two ships one more time to be sure, and then gave himself the reward he’d been waiting for. It had been a very long time coming, and he was going to enjoy this.

She was standing at the edge of the containment unit, watching him as he came through the hatch. “This won’t work,” she said.

He ignored her, advancing until he was just on the other side of the bars. “It just did.” His eyes went to the band she wore on her left arm. “So that’s what was scattering your energy signal? Brilliant, I do have to admit that. Kept me guessing for a long time. If your wife hadn’t been so stupid as to change a winning game, I might never have found you.”

“Looks empty in here,” she said pointedly. “Missing your colleagues much?”

With a snarl of rage he slammed his fist against the bars. “Don’t push me, Human. I’d planned to kill you with some mercy but I’m rapidly changing my mind. Pulling your arms out of their sockets would be a fitting tribute to my friends.”

“Oh, they were your friends. Sorry I had to kill them. But it was self-defense.” She gave him a vicious smile. “And I’d like to see you try that arm-pulling trick. Or are you afraid to let me out of here and take me on?”

“I am afraid of no Human, let alone you,” he snapped, reaching for the key panel. Then he stopped, his training finally overcoming his anger. “But you’re not Human, are you? You’re part Borg.”

She said nothing, watching him silently, and he shook his head with a wry chuckle. “Very good, Human. You almost had me going. But I’m not endangering my victory for the sake of my pride. I owe your death to my friends.” He unholstered his phaser. “However, I can still make it a slow and painful one. If I set this to the mid-level—” he adjusted the setting as he spoke — “then I can simply burn off parts of your body, one at a time, and the phaser will cauterize even as it burns. You’ll live exactly as long as I want you to. But you’ll be screaming every second.”

“You are a bloodthirsty one,” she said, unafraid even as he lifted the phaser. He paused, waiting for her to show the fear he craved, then shrugged. The first shot would end her bravado.

She smiled as the ship shuddered beneath their feet. “Whoops. Looks like someone found you. By the way, this band on my arm? It’s a locator. You beamed aboard the one thing we needed to finish you off.”

Oh, he’d wanted to make her sorry. But there was no time left, and he was willing to trade his enjoyment for her certain death. “Then I guess I’ll finish you off first,” he said, swiftly changing the phaser setting back to the highest level. Without another word he fired—and stared in shock as the beam passed right through her body, vaporizing part of the hull. She dove for the floor, dodging the shower of molten hull fragments, then raised her head and looked at him. “Do that one more time and you’ll breach the hull,” she said. “I’d advise against it.”

“What…” He stood there, slack-jawed in disbelief. “What are you?”

“The wrong one,” she said. Her gaze flicked over his shoulder and he spun, seeing too late the cloud of gas entering the room. It seized his lungs before he got two steps, sending him into spasms of coughing. He stumbled, falling to his knees, and the last impossible thing he saw was his prisoner simply stepping through the bars.

 

 

-----

 

 

“Delta Flyer to the Doctor.”

“Good to hear a friendly voice, Mr. Paris! I must say, the company in here leaves a lot to be desired.”

Tom and Seven looked at each other and shook their heads. “Doctor, are you all right?” asked Seven. Their biggest concern had been potential damage to his portable emitter, which was one reason why Kathryn had asked her to be on the team.

“Oh, I’m perfectly fine. Almost got my emitter knocked out by some flaming hull plating, but my host is now sleeping peacefully.”

“Excellent,” said Revi. “Can you go to the environmental controls and vent the gas? Seven and I really don’t want to be coughing our lungs out when we beam over.”

“Certainly.”

As they waited, Seven opened a channel to the Tagus and got a very worried-looking Captain Jorel on the screen. Next to him, Kathryn looked as calm as ever. “We have the runabout,” she informed them. “And one sleeping Cardassian. The Doctor is unharmed.”

“Excellent,” said Kathryn. “Get me one final bit of positive news and then I can get my first good night’s sleep in a month.”

“The Doctor is venting the gas now. Revi and I will beam over as soon as it’s safe. I’ll contact you the moment I know.”

“Thanks, Seven. Good work, everyone.”

Seven signed off and closed down her board. “Enjoy your peaceful flight back,” she said.

Tom grinned. “Feels damned good to be here again. I’ve missed this ship.”

“It’s only been a few weeks, Tom,” said Revi. “Is that Earth soil already getting too heavy for your feet?”

He shrugged. “It’s been a great few weeks off, but you know…I do miss flying.”

“Maybe you can apply for a position as a flight instructor,” she suggested. “That would get you into space and still keep you at home.”

He was appalled. “That’s not flying. That’s playing nursemaid with a side dish of disaster. You think teaching young pilots is safe? That’s one of the most dangerous jobs in the fleet! Those kids are idiots.”

Revi tried very hard, but broke down a second later with a huge snort of laughter. Tom’s affronted look lasted only a moment longer before he joined in, and Seven watched them in amused affection. She had missed this, too.

The Doctor called with the all-clear, and she and Revi promptly beamed to the Cardassian ship. On first glance, Seven thought it might give a Borg scout ship some competition in utilitarian austerity.

“What a dump,” Revi said, looking around at the dark colors and bare metal. “I want to go back to the Flyer.”

“Wouldn’t you like to check on our new patient first?” asked the Doctor.

Seven felt a mental disconnect looking at him. In the form of Lynne, and with her voice, his presence was unsettling. “You check the Cardassian,” she told Revi, “I’ll check the database, and then I’m returning the Doctor to his normal form. As quickly as possible.”

“I’m hurt,” he said. “You don’t like me as a full-headed brunette? I’ve been rather enjoying the sensation of having so much hair.”

“Ugh,” said Revi, walking toward the back of the ship. “I agree, Seven, it’s weirding me out too.”

As the two doctors made certain of the Cardassian’s continued unconsciousness, Seven began combing the files in the database, looking for the one critical bit of information they still needed. She found it easily, and was on the comm with Kathryn before Revi and the Doctor had even returned.

“Our prisoner is named Gohat,” she said. “He was the last of a cell of four. The other three were killed in the avalanche; he beamed their bodies into space. There are no others on the contract.”

Kathryn visibly slumped. “Thank god. That’s the best news I’ve heard in a long time. I owe all of you a gourmet dinner and a night on the town and whatever else you want, just name it. We are going to celebrate.”

Seven liked the sound of that. “Where will we go?”

Kathryn’s smile lit up the screen. “Any goddamned place we want to.”

 

 

-----

 

 

Gohat groaned, his hand going to his temple even as he struggled to sit up. His head was pounding, the light hurt his eyes, and he felt like he’d been in a shuttle crash.

And to top off his misery, the first thing he saw when he managed to get his eyes all the way open was that woman, looking straight at him. Through the humming forcefield of what was undoubtedly a Starfleet brig cell.

“If it had been up to me, you’d have a lot more hurting than just your head,” she said.

He stared at her. “You aren’t Human.”

“Oh, I am,” she assured him. “But I’m not who you captured. You locked on to a Borg/Human biosign, yes, but it wasn’t mine. It was produced artificially, with a device our holographic doctor was wearing.”

“Holo—” He felt as if his brain were slightly out of sync. “My ship has no holoemitters.”

“He doesn’t need them,” she said. “By the way, he told me about your charming offer to kill me slowly and painfully. Something about screaming every second? I’m thinking that a few decades in prison couldn’t happen to a more deserving fuckwad than you.”

“You killed my friends,” he said, the anger returning. “I owed it to them.”

“You owed them nothing. They died in the service of a contract that was cancelled nine days ago. This wasn’t their revenge, it was yours.” She lowered her voice, speaking in a tone of utter contempt. “And you failed. You failed your contract, you failed your friends, and you failed even in your pathetic revenge.”

His anger died abruptly, both from her contempt and his realization of the truth. He had failed. His target was standing there, speaking to him with no fear at all, because she had won and he had lost.

Her gaze never left his. “I just want to give you a view of your future,” she said. “You’ll get a trial, because that’s how the Federation justice system works. And you’ll get a lot of publicity, because after the war, the story of a Cardassian cell coming to Earth to kill a Human for pay is going to be big, big news. Which means your face, your name and your story will be going all the way back to Cardassia. Do you have any friends there? Family? Hm, I bet you’ve got a few enemies. They’re all going to know about your failure. You have no name left. No honor. And when that trial is over, you’re going to a penal facility for a very long time. Where you’ll be surrounded by Humans who all know what a failure you are. And you can spend the next twenty years doing stupid, menial labor; shitty little jobs that are so beneath you, but you’ll do them anyway because it’s better than sitting in your cell, being bored out of your mind. And you don’t want to sit in that cell, because it gives you time to think, and the last thing you want is time to think about how much you wish you’d been smarter than to fall for a trap like you did today. You don’t want to think about how you failed.”

Her voice was almost hypnotic, and she spoke as if she knew his deepest fears. Every time she uttered the word fail he flinched, the truth of it scorching his very soul. He couldn’t take his eyes off hers, feeling trapped by her contemptuous gaze and knowing that she had earned her supremacy over him. He was in a Starfleet brig, and she was alive.

“Failure is death,” she whispered, and his eyes widened in shock. She knew the motto of the Obsidian Order?

She nodded, seeing his reaction, and spoke in a voice so soft that he had to strain to hear it. “When they beamed you here, they removed all of your weapons in the transporter buffer. But they didn’t think about your patch, because it’s not a weapon. You still have it. But…” She paused, letting him hang. “I’m not the only one who knows about the Obsidian Order. When Kathryn gets here, she’ll make sure your patch is removed. And then you’ll have nothing left at all. No way to escape. Your last chance at honor, gone.”

The patch. The insurance policy that every member of the Obsidian Order carried; a small molar patch encapsulating a tiny but lethal amount of poison. Because no one in the Order would ever, ever allow themselves to be captured alive. Without thinking, he ran his tongue over his tooth, feeling the reassuring presence of the patch he’d worn most of his adult life. She saw it, a slight twitch of her eyebrow acknowledging their shared understanding.

“You don’t have much time,” she whispered. “They’re on their way.”

Why was she doing this? She had won, and yet she was giving up her victory. In her place, he wouldn’t have allowed any options. He would have made her suffer. But she was offering him release, and the last shred of honor he could retain.

He heard the swish of a door opening, heard the sound of boots, saw two other women appear, but it was all peripheral to the gaze holding him. He heard the captain give the order for the guards to stand ready for the force field to come down, and recognized the other as the doctor Lira had said she’d killed. Even Lira had failed, even Lira…

The field was down, the doctor was coming in with a hypospray, and he had no time. With his vision still filled by the woman he had tried to kill, he bit down on the patch.

And smiled.

 

 

 

 

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