"Uncle Quark, I found out what the word is!" Nog said excitedly. "The word that says why Talis Dejana's so special: Nekor."
"Nekor …" Quark tried out the sound of the word on his tongue. "What does it mean?"
Nog beamed. "Profit."
Quark motioned for the boy to lower his voice. "How did you find this out? The girl's brother?"
Nog made a face. "Him? Huh! You'd get more out of a Vulcan in a holosuite. You know how you sent me to the infirmary with that fruit basket? Well, I went back there on my own with another one."
"Odo didn't chase you off again?"
A bark of laughter shook Nog's small body. "He's busy overseeing the holosystem repair project. We've got Cedra to thank for all I learned. One of Constable Odo's lieutenants was on duty instead. I told him I was a good friend of the girl's brother and I had a gift for her from him."
"And he let you in?"
"No," Nog admitted. "He took the fruit basket in."
"Another fruit basket? This is coming out of your share," Quark said, shaking a finger under Nog's snub nose.
"Even if that fruit basket paid for the information? When the guard went into the infirmary, a Bajoran male came bustling up, waving his hands and squawking about how dare they leave the Nekor's doorway unguarded and what sort of incompetents has the Federation assigned to the welfare of the holy one?"
"Holy …" Quark's eyes sparkled with speculation. "Good, good. These Bajorans take their religion seriously. People always pay more for anything they think is serious. And you found out what Nekor means?"
Nog looked insulted. "I used the classroom computer!"
"Well, well. Who said education doesn't pay?" Quark mused.
"You did."
Quark cuffed his nephew. "I know that! I was just testing you. And what does it mean?"
Nog opened his mouth to speak, but uttered a yelp of dismay instead. "Uncle Quark! He's getting away without paying!" The boy pointed at Vung's fast-retreating back.
"Ah, let him go. Good riddance. The price of a drink's cheap enough to be rid of him. Anyway," he added as an afterthought, "I'll find out which vessel he's booked passage on and have the captain reimburse me and put it on Vung's shipboard bill. Now, you were saying about the Nekor. . . .?"
Commander Sisko was wakened from a restless sleep by the alarm raised at his door. He scarcely had time to vault out of bed and throw a robe on before his quarters were flooded with Major Kira, Security Chief Odo, a monk from the station shrine, and a wildly gesturing, shouting Kejan Ulli.
"My apologies, Commander, but—" Odo began.
"—vanished!" Kejan Ulli cried. "There's no sign—"
"Kejan Ulli, please," Major Kira said, trying unsuccessfully to calm him. "No ship has left the station since the last time Nurse Guerette checked on her. No one had access to any of the runabouts either. She has to be here."
"Who—?" Commander Sisko asked, trying to sort sense from chaos.
A bleary-eyed Jake and Cedra came stumbling into the already crowded room just as Kejan Ulli exclaimed, "The Nekor, may the Prophets strike her kidnapper down! They have stolen the Nekor!"
Cedra stared, stricken, then burst into wild sobs and fled.
CHAPTER 12
"THAT'S THE LAST OF THEM," Major Kira said, her voice barely concealing the frustration she felt as she reported on the search efforts to Commander Sisko. "She's not aboard any of the ships in the docking ring."
Sisko said nothing, but his anger showed on his face. He paced from other personnel and fighting the urge to slam his fist into the bulkhead. "What about the life-sign scans?" He touched his comm badge. "Chief O'Brien, report."
Miles O'Brien's voice filled Ops. "We're running them now, sir, a full sweep of the station. Nothing.
"You're sure you have the correct codes for Talis Dejana?"
"Absolutely, sir. We're even running variant readings, from the infirmary records, just to make sure. Sometimes we seem to get a reading, but then it vanishes before we can pinpoint it."
"The sensors are working?"
"Aye, sir. For a job at this distance, there never was any trouble with them. It was only on making long-distance readings, and for that, it looks like Ensign McCormick's licked the problem. A test or two and we can commence the search for Dr. Bashir."
"Save that. We must find the child."
"Aye, sir," O'Brien repeated. "I'll report any developments immediately. O'Brien out."
"Nothing, Commander?" Kejan Ulli stepped forward.
"How did you get in here?" Sisko wanted to know. "You're not cleared for access to Ops."
Major Kira cleared her throat. "I gave him clearance, sir," she murmured. Before Sisko could say anything, she added, "He was threatening to return to Bajor and tell the Dessin-ka that the whole business of the Nekor was just a lie concocted by competing factions within the provisional government. The Dessin-ka aren't known for their tolerance of lies."
"But it isn't a lie," Sisko objected.
"They'd demand immediate proof of that. Could we give it to them?" Major Kira pointed out. "It's better to appease Kejan Ulli and keep the Dessin-ka's support."
"A sop." Sisko rubbed his chin. "I can't say I like it."
"I'll take full responsibility, sir," Kira said. "I can't afford your morals. If there's a way to keep the peace on Bajor, I'll take it."
"Just see to it that he doesn't get in the way."
It was an empty hope. Kejan Ulli attached himself to Sisko at once and laid down a barrage of questions: "What measures are you taking to locate the Nekor? How many crewmen have you assigned to handle this emergency? Where are your security forces? Why didn't they do something to prevent this disaster?"
"Ensign Tolland is in the infirmary with a concussion he got while guarding Talis Dejana," Sisko snapped. "He was struck from behind."
"With such alert personnel, I'm surprised no one kidnapped the Nekor earlier than this," Kejan Ulli sneered.
Sisko's teeth clamped together. "Officer Tolland is one of Odo's best men. He claims that he didn't see his assailant."
"A likely story." The Dessin-ka agent folded his arms. "You believed it, of course."
"I believed it." Odo made his presence known. He had just entered Ops. "One thing I demand of my officers above all others is absolute truthfulness."
"Which you always receive, no doubt." Kejan Ulli's lip curled.
Odo regarded him dispassionately. "How fortunate for us all that your doubts have no effect on the truth."
"What have you learned, Odo?" Major Kira skillfully interposed her question between the shapeshifter and the Dessin-ka agent to prevent any further clashes.
"We have initiated a level-by-level search of the station as a backup procedure to Chief O'Brien's sensor scans. I am myself about to requestion a prime suspect in this matter."
"Who? Who is this suspect?" Kejan Ulli insisted. "Take me to him. I'll have the truth soon enough."
"Yes, I've heard of your methods." Odo refused to be swayed. "This is a matter for Security. You'll be kept informed as necessary." He turned on his heel and left.
"Three guesses who Odo's prime suspect is," Kira murmured for Sisko's ears alone.
"The child is worth a lot to a lot of different people," Sisko returned. "Can you think of anyone more likely to want a piece of that?"
"You again? Can't you think of anyone else to bother except an honest businessman?" Quark whined. "Go harass Garak if you want to look busy. That Cardassian knows more than he lets on."
"Garak has been questioned, along with the other merchants on the Promenade," Odo said, leaning across the bar until his ill-defined nose was less than an inch away from Quark's wrinkled one. "None of them complained. All of them cooperated completely."
"Oh, and just because I'm the only one with enough lobes to stand up for my rights and not cringe before almighty Security, I'm automatically a suspect, is that it?"
"Pardon me, Quark. I was so busy listening to you whimper and wail ab
out a few simple questions that I missed the part where you stood up for your rights." Quark tried to turn away, but Odo's arm shot out and twirled the Ferengi into an about-face that brought them back nose-to-nose. "Now, you listen to me: I'm only telling you this because we are such good friends," Odo said in a voice that reeked of anything but friendship. "It's a warning."
"A w-w-warning?" Quark quavered.
"My top man was seriously injured while guarding Talis Dejana. Somehow, someone managed to sneak up behind him, unseen, and hit him in the head hard enough to give him a severe concussion. That much is common knowledge. However, when I went to visit him in the infirmary, he told me that just before the blow that struck him down, he happened to see something peculiar."
"Peculiar, eh?" Quark's voice was a peep.
"A shadow."
"A shadow? Whose—?"
"Whose," Odo repeated. "That is the question. There was nothing there to cast it. A shadow of a shadow, Ensign Tolland called it. It was very faint, even though the lighting at his post was so bright, but Tolland saw it well enough to say what might have cast it." Odo sat back on the barstool. "Has anyone ever told you that you Ferengi have a very distinctive outline?"
Quark slapped the bar. "That's hearsay, not proof!"
"Oh, I never said it proved a thing. But then, I'm not the sort to go jumping to conclusions. I was the first Officer Tolland told about the shadow; I doubt I'm the last." He let the meaning of this sink in.
Quark became edgy. "But I didn't—I have witnesses—I'd never—"
"I wouldn't go that far," Odo commented.
"You mean to say someone will hear Toland's wild story and blame me?"
"You do maintain the highest profile of any Ferengi aboard Deep Space Nine," Odo said. "And you have a certain reputation."
"Blast my reputation to the pits!" Quark cried. "All I need is for one Bajoran fanatic to decide I'm the one who stole their cursed Nekor. Then when I can't produce her, who knows what nasty little treat the all-meddling Prophets will 'inspire' him to give me!"
"What did you call the missing child?" Odo asked almost too casually.
Quark's expression as good as said Oops, but he tried to put a good front on it. "Nothing, nothing, a little pet name my nephew said the girl's brother has for her. You know these children, heh, heh."
"I see." Odo stood up. "By whatever name, the girl must be found, and soon. If I were you, friend Quark, I'd be doing what I could to help the search, not hinder it. Before Ensign Tolland has the chance to speak with too many others about that shadow."
Major Kira was grabbing a quick bite when Vedek Torin presented himself before her. Modestly he cleared his throat and said, "The peace of the Prophets be with you."
"And with you," she replied automatically. His face told a troubling story. "What's wrong?" she asked, hunger forgotten.
"It is—it is a delicate affair, Major. I did not know whether I should bring it to Commander Sisko's attention."
"What is it?"
"As I was—meditating in the shrine, I thought I heard a strange sound nearby, like the whimper of a frightened child."
"Dejana," Kira breathed. "But we searched the shrine."
The vedek agreed that this was so. "Yet it sounded so real. I was on my feet in an instant, trying to determine from which direction the sound had come. I heard nothing. I convinced myself that it had just been my imagination, but when I settled down again, I found this." He handed her a flimsy slip of paper.
Major Kira read it and her expression hardened. "I wondered how long it would be before this happened. It's a ransom note."
"With respect, Major, it is not." The vedek shook his head ever so slightly. "Read it again."
Major Kira did so, this time aloud: "'If you're interested in the girl, you're not alone. Let's talk about what it's worth to you. Leave your reply where you found this note. You have four hours.'" She looked at Vedek Torin. "Printout from a handcomp, no way to trace it. If this isn't a ransom note, what is it?"
"It is an invitation to bid for the child."
No matter how deep Major Kira's doubts ran, they were soon dispelled. On reporting this development to Commander Sisko, her information was greeted as old news.
"There are representatives of a dozen Bajoran political and religious splinter groups aboard DS9," Sisko said. "Every one of them has been approached in the same manner by our mysterious kidnapper: a secluded part of the station, a lone person to discover a note that's suddenly there, and the words always the same. Kejan Ulli is the only one who says no one has approached him."
"I don't believe that for a minute," said Major Kira.
"I don't either. He maybe hoping to make a preemptive bid and secure the Nekor for the Dessin-ka this way."
"It looks like the kidnapper wants to start a bidding war for the girl." Her look promised war of a different kind. "If he's willing to sell her to whoever offers the best price, what's to stop the Cardassians from doing it? If that child falls into their hands—"
"There are no Cardassians aboard DS9 at the moment," Sisko said. "Except Garak."
"Ah, Commander Sisko! So good of you to drop by." Garak rushed forward to greet his callers. "And the lovely Major Kira. This is an honor." He reached out as if to take her hand. She pulled it away. "Yes, an honor," he repeated, unruffled. "And an unlooked-for convenience. I was just about to close up shop and come looking for you."
"For me?" Sisko was taken aback.
"You know, it's the strangest thing." Garak assumed a thoughtful pose. "I was just going over some fabric samples when what do I find in the binder but—you'll never guess—a letter. More of a note, really, and not directed to me at all. I don't know why—"
"Let's see it," Major Kira snapped, her hand thrust out as fast as it had been jerked away before.
"I can refuse you nothing," the urbane clothier replied, and produced a flimsy that was the essential twin of the one Vedek Torin had found. "You see, it asks me to bring this to the attention of Commander Sisko," said Garak, peering over Sisko's and Kira's shoulders while trying to squeeze his way between them.
"To me, as a representative of the Federation," Sisko corrected him. He crumpled the paper. "Of all the gall."
"Ferengi are well stocked in that department," Garak remarked. Sisko and Kira stared at him; he raised his hands in disclaimer. "Only a rumor, only a rumor. I can't vouch for it at all. This is such a deplorable business. That poor child." He clicked his tongue.
"I'm sure you deplore it enough to come right out and tell us whether you received a second note from the kidnapper," Kira said.
"A second—? Now, why would I?"
"The kidnapper's not particular about who he deals with. Commander Sisko represents the Federation. Who do you represent, Garak?"
"No one but myself, dear lady, and some of the finest fashion designers this side of the wormhole. Politics is bad for business." He waggled a chiding finger at her. "You'd best be careful, Major. You're starting to sound like my good friend, Dr. Bashir. By the way"—an able tailor, Garak altered his expression from puckish to sincerely concerned—"any word from him?"
"You'll be the seventy-third to know," Major Kira gritted.
"Four hours." Commander Sisko spread out his fistful of flimsies on Odo's desk like a hand of cards. "They all agree on that."
Odo picked up one of the printouts and examined it. "They all tell the recipients to leave their bids in the same place they found these messages as well. I can have my people cover the pickup points. Are these all of them?"
"I don't know. There's reason to think that not everyone who was approached has come forward. More than a few possible buyers would sooner have the child become their personal bargaining chip rather than see justice done."
"That is their error," Odo said grimly. "If we don't know where all the pickup points are, we can't conduct an effective stakeout."
Sisko concurred. "The kidnapper knows he can't keep the girl hidden forever. If he gets just
one good offer, he'll make the sale and run. I can't keep the station sealed off forever, either. If the captain of one of the ships currently docked here decides to leave without clearance, we can intercept his craft with our tractor beams. If they all lose patience, we can't hold so many."
"Is that a possibility?"
"I've had several meetings with at least five of the ship's captains. They want to know what's going on. They have schedules to meet, rendezvous to keep. I've put them off as much as I can without actually telling them about the Nekor. All we need are more potential buyers."
"The best way to prevent that," said Odo, "is to apprehend the seller."
Not long after making this observation, he and Commander Sisko bent over a collection of glittering handcomps while their Ferengi owner jigged nervously from foot to foot, trying to get a glimpse of his property.
"Hey, be careful with those!" Quark protested. "They're not cheap, you know. Top of the line, that's all I use in Quark's Place. If you break anything—"
"If you don't shut up, I'll start by breaking your neck," Odo grumbled.
"Why did you want to see all my handcomps anyway?" Suspicion touched the Ferengi's mind. "Is it because of that kidnapping?"
"Shouldn't you be telling us?" Odo remarked.
Quark bridled; then his eye lit on the fan of flimsies on Odo's desktop. Weasel-fast and weasel-slick, he pounced on them before the shapeshifter could stop him. "What are these?" he exclaimed, holding them up to read. "Oh, ho! Now I see what you're after." He tossed the papers over his shoulder disdainfully. "You're wasting your time. None of my handcomps would print out these messages. They're the product of a machine so old, so cheap, that no Ferengi with an ounce of self-respect would use—use—" He slapped his own face as realization came. "Why, that overbought, undersold, son of a—Vung!"
"Yes?" Vung said, glancing up from his meal at the Replimat to see a ring of faces. Sisko, Odo, Quark, and Kira glowered down at him. "Can I help you good people?"
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