Chapter 2

THE TRILL DOCTOR and the Huanni counselor bent their heads over the computer screen to see the results of the latest test. Dr. Jarem Kaz felt his heart leap a little as the information appeared.

“There, you see?” he said, pointing unnecessarily. “The isoboromine levels have increased substantially.”

“But they’re still not quite up to normal,” Astall said. She gnawed her lower lip. “Jarem, I really don’t know what I’m seeing here. I’m not as familiar with Trill physiology as you are.”

“Believe me, it’s good,” he said. “I don’t need to be relieved of duty.”

“Truthfully,” she said, looking up at him with large eyes, “if this were someone else, would you say the same thing?”

He smiled and nodded. “Truthfully, yes,” he replied, “although I’d want whoever this was monitored.”

She smiled, obviously almost as relieved as he was. Impulsively she hugged him. He tensed in her embrace, then thought, No one else is here, to hell with propriety, and squeezed her back.

“Now, how about that lunch?” he asked.

The being who had worn the faces of the Bajoran Arak Katal and the human Starfleet officer, among dozens, perhaps hundreds, of others during his time in the Alpha Quadrant, herded Moset down the claustrophobic halls until he was certain they could not be overheard.

“Thanks for drawing the symbol,” the Changeling said. “I couldn’t have done it myself. We barely had enough time as it was.”

“Think nothing of it,” demurred Moset. “It was easy enough to do. And you’ve brought me exactly what I need. What we need,” he corrected.

“I had to bring the girl, too,” Katal said.

“Oh, that’s a fortuitous happenstance,” said Moset. “I can certainly use her as well. It’s always helpful to have a genetically similar control subject. No, no, we’re doing fine, just fine.”

Katal turned to the scientist. Trying not to reveal his urgency, he asked, “So how are we doing? Really?”

Moset smiled happily. “The experiments are running exactly as I predicted. No surprises. And now that I’ve got a fresh infusion with Chakotay and Sekaya, we should start to see some real progress very quickly. You’ll soon be your old self again.”

Katal clapped Moset on the back. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am to hear that, my friend. What about our other project?”

Moset hesitated. “Well, it still needs a little bit of time and thought, but it, too, is progressing well. Come. Let’s see what my latest effort will do.”

The scientist turned and made as if to head back to the laboratory. Katal put a hand on his arm, stopping him.

“I’m not sure I want Chakotay to know what’s going on,” he said.

Moset smiled. “And where do you think he might run with the information?”

Katal laughed. “You have a point.”

The two returned to the laboratory. Katal looked back over at Chakotay, who had clearly just seconds before been straining at his bonds. “You’re not going to work yourself loose, Chakotay, so you might as well save your strength.”

Chakotay looked at him with cold eyes. By all the gods that are worshipped in this quadrant, thought Katal, I’ve never seen hatred like this. A smile tugged at his lips.

“Trust me, you’ll want your strength by the time Moset’s done with you. You know a little something about that, don’t you, Sekaya?”

The brother and sister had looked a great deal alike to him when he first saw them side by side on Voyager, and now they both bore identical expressions of loathing. The only difference was that Chakotay’s was cold and restrained and directed at him, whereas Sekaya’s was as hot as a lava flow and focused with laser-sharp intensity on Moset. Any moment now he expected her to start growling like an animal.

While he observed the two siblings with amusement, Moset had been preparing a hypospray and humming something.

“Was that what you sang when you killed Blue Water Dreamer?” spat Sekaya.

Moset turned reproachful eyes on the woman. “No one was supposed to die, I assure you,” he said. “My subjects are always more use to me alive than dead. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“That’s the biggest pile of—”

“Sekaya,” said Chakotay, sharply. She looked at him, her breasts heaving with fury, and he shook his head slowly.

“Your brother’s right,” said Katal. “Moset doesn’t particularly enjoy inflicting pain

usually. But if he’s pushed far enough, well, I can’t say for sure what he’d do.”

“Oh, do stop frightening her,” chided Moset. “Here. See how this feels.”

He pressed the hypo to Katal’s throat. It felt cool, and the Changeling could feel the misty contents of the hypo dissolving into him. He looked at his hands, concentrated. They shimmered, briefly, but then reformed into strong, five-fingered humanoid hands.

“Nothing,” said Katal, his voice soft and angry.

“How disappointing,” Moset said. He glared at the cylindrical hypospray, as if the failure were its fault and not his. “Hmmm. I’m not sure what went wrong. I’ll have to go back over my notes. But don’t worry, once I’m able to utilize these two, we’ll make great strides, I’m certain of it.”

Katal continued to stare at his hands, fighting down the red rage that threatened to boil up inside him. The Cardassian was so close. And he had proven his worth in the past. The fact that the Changeling stood before him wearing the face and body of a Bajoran Maquis was evidence of how much Moset had accomplished. But he was losing patience. He had been so patient for so long, for so very long

.

“You’re right, of course,” he said mildly, forcing a smile. “Once you start working on these two, I’m sure you’ll make discoveries by leaps and bounds.”

Moset cocked his head. “What an interesting expression.”

“It’s human. I picked it up from Ellis.”

“Leaps and bounds. I like it. It sounds

fun. Vigorous. And very visual. Yes, I’ll make discoveries by leaps and bounds.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Katal said to Chakotay, Sekaya, and Moset, “I have some work to do.”

Even as he said the words, he hesitated. He had known Chakotay for so long, even though the human hadn’t realized it. He enjoyed tricking the human. Chakotay was so terribly sincere. Noble. Easily led. The Changeling was reminded of an ancient Earth practice of piercing the noses of bulls and leading them around by the ring thus inserted. That’s exactly what it was like with Chakotay; a large man, powerfully built, and, what made it more fun, not stupid. Just

trusting. A bull. He liked that image.

First as Katal, a “brother in arms,” and then as stuffy, by-the-book “Priggy” Ellis, he had gulled Chakotay into trusting and even liking him. He knew that whatever Moset had in mind for the human, Chakotay would eventually be dead. Even if he and his sister survived the experiments Moset was certain to put them through, they’d have to die at the end of it all.

And then this game he’d played for more than eight years with Captain Chakotay would be at an end. Katal regretted that, but mentally shrugged.

One must make sacrifices.

He turned and left, moving purposefully down the narrow corridors phasered out of solid stone and into a large room. There were dozens of screens here, all of them active, all of them displaying something of import to Katal. He selected one and stood before it.

“Computer,” he instructed, “activate holographic program A-4.”

The gray-black stones of the cavern walls disappeared as the holographic background manifested. He fiddled with the color, deciding on a kind of slate blue with a bit of green. Thinking a bit, he put some art on the walls—nothing too distinctive—and added a soft, dark blue carpeting. There. Now the room looked like dozens of nondescript, neutrally decorated formal meeting or banquet halls scattered on planets throughout the Federation.

His setting thus appropriately adjusted, the Changeling now adjusted himself. His Bajoran features broadened. His mouth stretched wide, his skin tone turned a pale orange, and his hair went from dark brown to bright red. He watched his hands as his fingers grew longer and thicker, nodding approvingly as four fingers manifested where there had previously been five. He quickly checked the mirror, making sure that everything was as it should be, then put his message through.

Amar Merin Kol appeared on the viewscreen, her eyes lighting up with pleasure at seeing him. He inclined his head respectfully.

“Greetings, Amar,” he said.

“Greetings, Alamys. You are a bit late in contacting me,” she chided gently.

“My apologies, Amar.” He frowned, trying to look both angry and unhappy at the same time. “I was embroiled in a

discussion.”

“Oh, dear. I had hoped it would not come to unpleasantness.”

That was Merin Kol, all right. She never liked to ruffle feathers, dreaded giving offense, and yet somehow managed to drive her platform forward just the same. The Changeling thought briefly that it would be a challenge to master that attitude. A hard act to imitate, certainly, especially as Kol was genuine.

Genuine, and like so many, easily gulled.

“I’m afraid there is a great deal of

unpleasantness

these days,” he said, sighing. He rubbed his cheeks, where a cluster of nerves would be if he were truly a Kerovian, as if he were tired.

“You must be exhausted,” she said sympathetically, picking up on the gesture at once. “You have served me well and loyally, Alamys—served Kerovi well. But clearly this is draining you.”

She paused, looking thoughtful. “Perhaps I should recall you. There are others who can continue the discussions you have begun.”

“No,” he said instantly, and for a moment feared he had spoken too quickly. “No, Amar. I’d like to finish what I’ve begun. Some of the negotiations are tricky and a bit delicate. I have formed friendships. We have a better chance of succeeding if I stay and continue on.”

“Very well. I admire your determination. But I confess I have missed your wise counsel, my friend.”

“I hope I continue to give you wise counsel, wherever I am,” he said obsequiously. “Now tell me, how are preparations going for the conference on Vaan?”

“As one might expect. I am looking forward to meeting Admiral Janeway.”

The Changeling frowned. “I have heard she is a fine diplomat, Amar. You must not let her change your mind.”

Kol cocked her head. “I have not yet made a firm decision to secede from the Federation, Alamys. You know that. I will listen with an open mind and an open heart. I have no agenda, no point to prove. All I want is what is best for the people of Kerovi.”

Damn it, he thought. The last time he had talked to her, she had been coming down quite firmly on the side of secession. Without the Federation hovering, he would be able to operate more freely on Kerovi. And he had many—oh, what was that human phrase—”irons in the fire” on that pretty little planet.

“Of course, Amar,” he said soothingly. “I did not intend to imply otherwise. But I am somewhat confused. Do you wish me to cease discussions with these people until you have made up your mind?” It would be dangerous to return to Kerovi until everything was completed here, but it might be more dangerous not to go, if Kol was as undecided as she appeared to be.

“No.” Her voice was firm, and he felt a little spurt of relief. “Continue as you have been doing. You are providing a valuable service. Much as I would like to have you by my side again, I know you’re needed where you are.”

She smiled a bit impishly. “And don’t worry. I like Janeway a great deal, and I am looking forward to meeting her. I might even go so far as to consider her a friend. But the fate of my people is too important to be given away just to stay in a friend’s good graces.”

“As I have said before, you are as wise as you are beautiful, Amar.” He put his hand on his chest and bowed to her.

“And you are a flatterer of the highest level, my old friend.” She winked. “Kol out.”

After the viewscreen went blank, he didn’t immediately shift his shape. He went over the conversation in his mind. Perhaps he’d underestimated this Janeway. Knowing Chakotay as well as he did, he’d come to know Janeway vicariously. And of course, wearing the feathered face of the avian Captain Skhaa, he’d been able to download and read every one of Voyager’s logs, which was when he’d learned the important information about Chakotay.

At last he shook his head and with the gesture resumed the appearance of Commander Andrew Ellis. “Computer, end holographic program A-4.”

He strode down the hall. Chakotay, still stalling for time, was trying to engage Moset in conversation. The Cardassian always had time to talk about himself, and Chakotay was smart enough to have picked up on it.

At any other time the Changeling would have been annoyed. But it didn’t matter if Chakotay was to worm anything out of the scientist. As the Cardassian had said, he’d never be able to make any use of the information. Let Chakotay chat Moset up as much as he liked. He might inadvertently reveal something useful.

The conversation stopped as he entered, and Chakotay turned his full attention on the being who had masqueraded as an old friend and a new first officer.

He was glad; he wanted Chakotay to see this. Maybe it would shake him up a bit.

The Changeling wearing Andrew Ellis’s face stepped next to the original encased in the stasis chamber. He locked gazes with Chakotay and smiled a little.

“I don’t know that we’ll have a chance to talk again, but I’m sure Dr. Moset will fill you in.”

Before the horrified gazes of Chakotay and Sekaya, the Changeling’s features bled and rearranged themselves. His skin went darker than Ellis’s pale European-descended complexion; his eyes went from blue to brown. His hair changed from blond and thinning to black and short, and then finally, teasingly, the Changeling created a green pattern of lines on his temple.

Chakotay stared at himself.

The Changeling reached out to him, and Chakotay tensed. But all the Changeling wanted was Chakotay’s combadge, which he fastened to his uniform with a slight wince. “So long, Chakotay,” said the Changeling. He tapped a button, and he and the real Ellis disappeared.