IT WASN’T A SIMPLE MATTER getting access to the Rythrian cargo hauler that Picard had spotted through the observation port of the Emperor’s Eye.

He and Guinan had to make their way through a holographic communication center full of flesh-and-blood merchants and their life-sized, ghostly correspondents before they could catch even a glimpse of a likely hatch.

“That should be it,” the captain said.

Guinan squinted as she tried to make it out in the soft, projector-lit darkness. “Where? Near that Yridian in the long, purple robe?”

“Actually,” Picard said, “he’s a hologram.”

She frowned. “So he is.”

“Look over to the right a little,” the captain advised.

Guinan looked. After a moment, she said, “I see it. But those two bruisers look like they’re standing guard over it.”

Indeed, there was a Nausicaan standing on either side of the hatch—and Picard had his share of trouble with Nausicaans in the past. But as he was trying to figure out what to do about them, they moved away—obligingly leaving his objective unguarded.

“Lucky break,” said Guinan.

“Let’s get going,” the captain said, “before they decide to come back.”

And get going they did. Weaving their way through a maze of figures both solid and ethereal, they reached the hatch and saw it iris open for them.

Their luck really was holding. Before either the Nausicaans or anyone else could take any particular interest in what Picard and his companion were doing, they entered the hatch and watched it iris closed again.

The captain found himself in a narrow, worn-looking airlock. And unlike the others he had been in, this one was T-shaped. He had a choice of advancing to the hatch straight ahead of him or entering the one to his left.

“What do you think?” Guinan asked.

Picard recalled the observation port and what it had showed him of the cargo hauler. “I think we go straight ahead.”

Like its twin behind them, the hatch irised open, revealing a dimly lit enclosure. Taking out his stolen disruptor, Picard held it in front of him as he led the way inside.

The hold in which he found himself was about half the size of his ready room back on the Stargazer. It was cluttered with squat, dark supply containers, each one branded with a pale blue symbol to show they had been authorized for transport.

However, Picard doubted there was anything in them. The cargo hauler was three decades old if it was a day, and the containers had probably been standing there since the hulk became part of the orbital city.

Certainly, the dust on the floor around them seemed to indicate that. But that wasn’t all it indicated.

There were footprints in it—not Picard’s or Guinan’s, but someone else’s. Someone who had been here before them. And at least some of the footprints led to a cluster of containers against the wall.

The captain glanced at his companion, making sure he made eye contact. Then he glanced at the floor. Guinan followed his gaze, saw what there was to see there, then looked up and nodded ever so subtly.

Clearly, there was someone hiding there. Or there had been. If that person was still present, he might be armed—and watching the intruders from his concealment.

Waiting to see what they would do, perhaps. And if they did the wrong thing, it might be answered with a blaze of directed-energy fire.

“Looks empty,” Picard said. He looked at his companion. “Let’s try the other hatch.”

“I’m with you,” Guinan said, signaling that she understood what he was up to.

They started back toward the entrance to the place. But before they quite reached it, the captain turned and fired into the suspect cluster of containers, unleashing a beam of pale blue destruction—while Guinan ducked behind the containers arranged near the hatch.

Rolling to his right, the captain looked for return fire. But there wasn’t any.

Still, he had a feeling there was someone there. Raising himself up on one knee, he extended his weapon and said, “I know you are there.”

There was no answer.

“Come out where I can see you,” said the captain, “or I will fire again, and this time I will take my time.”

Still no response—at least, at first. Then a shadow separated itself from the other shadows in Picard’s sights.

“Now,” he said.

The shadow stood up. It was vaguely human-shaped, tall, slender. And as its face was revealed in a shaft of gray light, the captain caught a glimpse of black eyes, bronze skin, and white hair. That could mean only one thing.

It was a Zartani. And not just any Zartani, he realized, but the one he and Guinan had been risking their freedom to find.

“Demmix,” he said.

The Zartani looked wary. “Who are you?”

The captain smiled. “Not who I appear to be.”

Demmix tilted his angular head to the side. “Picard?” he said wonderingly.

“At your service.”

Uttering an exclamation of pure joy, the Zartani came out of hiding and embraced him. “I was afraid you had been killed in that explosion in the plaza.”

“No such luck,” Picard gibed.

Demmix regarded Guinan. “And who’s this?”

“A friend,” Picard assured him. “Without her help, I would never have found you.”

The Zartani smiled. “Then I’m glad to see her as well.”

The captain made an inclusive gesture. “How did you find this place?”

“I did some research before I left,” said Demmix. “As you can see, it came in handy.”

“I should tell you,” said Picard, “we are not the only ones searching for you. There is a pack of Cardassians on your trail as well.”

“Not to mention Steej,” Guinan added.

Demmix looked at her, then at the captain. “And who, if I may ask, is Steej?”

The captain tried not to sound too worried. “The director of security in this quadrant of Oblivion.”

The Zartani’s brow creased. “Why is the director of security looking for me?”

Picard sighed. “When the bomb went off in the plaza, I was accused of having set it. Security took me to a detention center, which I escaped with Guinan’s assistance. But I was never cleared of the crime. As far as Steej knows, I’m the bomber.”

Demmix didn’t comment. He just frowned.

“You look concerned,” Picard noted.

Demmix snorted. “The man who was supposed to get me off Oblivion is a hunted fugitive. Wouldn’t you call that cause for concern?”

“Trust me,” said the captain. “Now that we are together, we will find a way to reach the Stargazer.”

“A way to—?” his friend echoed. He looked stricken. “Don’t you have your communicator?”

Picard shook his head. “It was taken from me. Any idea if there’s a working com system in this vessel?”

Demmix pointed to another hatch, half-hidden by some containers. “Through there.”

“Let’s take a look,” said the captain.

What they found, at the end of a long corridor, was an open doorway that led to the vessel’s control room. It was a bit like the Stargazer’s bridge, but a lot smaller.

Fortunately, the rest of the ship wasn’t as dusty as the cargo hold. Apparently, the ventilation system was better in some places than in others.

As Picard had hoped, the communications panel looked none the worse for age.

Demmix ran his fingers over its controls. “If we can get this thing going,” he said, “we should transmit the information I’ve gathered on the Ubarrak. That way, if we don’t make it to the Stargazer, the Federation will still be able to make use of what I’ve learned.”

The captain smiled at him. “Done. But don’t worry. We will make it back.”

The Zartani nodded. “I trust you, Jean-Luc. I always have.”

Suddenly, Picard felt a hand on his arm. It was Guinan’s—and she didn’t look happy.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her.

“He’s lying,” she said.

Picard didn’t understand—until her eyes slid in Demmix’s direction. The captain turned to the Zartani, who seemed caught between surprise and resentment.

“I beg your pardon?” said Demmix.

“Guinan,” Picard said in an appeal for reason, “this man has risked his life to help the Federation. I don’t think we should be disparaging him.”

Guinan’s gaze remained fixed on Demmix. “The information he wants to give us…it’s wrong,” she said.

“Are you out of your mind?” rasped the Zartani, his voice edged with bitterness.

“Not in the least,” Guinan responded. “That data is designed to get the Federation into trouble somehow—maybe when it clashes with the Ubarrak’s warships.”

Picard put his hand on Demmix’s shoulder and said, “You must be mistaken. I know Demmix. And I know what the Ubarrak have done to him.”

“Nonetheless,” Guinan insisted, “he’s trying to deceive you. I’m certain of it.”

“I don’t know who this person is,” said the Zartani, “but I didn’t come all the way to Oblivion to speak with her.” He eyed Picard. “I came to speak with you.”

The captain frowned. Demmix was his friend. His first impulse was to trust him. And Starfleet was inclined to trust him as well, or it wouldn’t have dispatched one of its officers here to meet him.

But Guinan hadn’t been wrong about anything yet. Her instincts were remarkable—better than those of anyone he had ever encountered. If she said Demmix was lying, Picard had to at least entertain the possibility that she was right.

“I don’t believe this,” said the Zartani, reading the captain’s expression. “You’d take her word before mine?”

Picard sighed. “Please, Demmix. I—”

“I’ve risked my life to get the Federation this information,” the Zartani spat. “My life, Jean-Luc! You can’t just leave me twisting in the wind!”

The captain was still trying to think of how to respond when he heard a shuffle of feet. He whirled and went for his disruptor pistol.

But he was too late. Tain and a couple of his Cardassians had already entered the room, their own weapons drawn. Tain’s lackeys were training their disruptors on Guinan and Demmix.

Only Tain’s weapon was trained on Picard.

“It’s not that I would mind punching a hole in you,” Tain told him ever-so-reasonably, “but it might be easier for everyone if you simply put your stolen property on the floor.”

Picard’s jaw clenched. He hated the idea of disarming himself. But under the circumstances, he had little choice.

Keeping his disruptor out where the Cardassians could see it, he knelt and slid it across the floor. Then he got up and watched one of Tain’s men recover it.

“There, now,” said Tain. “Now we can all relax.” He turned to the Zartani. “I don’t believe you and I have been formally introduced—have we, Demmix?”

The Zartani made a sound of exasperation and turned to Picard. “How could you do this to me, Jean-Luc? I trusted you.”

Picard chuckled grimly. “Believe me, it was not my intention to bring these people along.”

Tain considered Picard. “You know,” he said, “you’ve led me on quite a chase. I admire you for that.”

“Thank you,” the captain said ironically.

“On the other hand,” the Cardassian continued, “it won’t stop me from subjecting you to a very long, very painful death. That’s the only way I can make certain that others aren’t tempted to betray me.”

The Cardassian turned to Demmix next. “As for you,” he said, “you have something I want. That information you were going to give to the Federation…you’ll now be giving to me.”

“And if I do?” said Demmix, a tremor in his voice.

Tain laughed. “Not if, you fool. When. I hope I haven’t given you the impression that you and I are haggling here, because we’re not. You’ll talk, and then I’ll have you killed. The only reward you’ll get for your cooperation is a quicker death than your friend Picard’s.”

Demmix blanched.

Tain seemed to take pleasure in the Zartani’s discomfort. He turned to Guinan. “And of course, you’ll be killed as well.”

“Glinn…” said one of the other Cardassians.

“What is it?” Tain asked, his gaze remaining firmly fixed on the captain.

“Before you arrived, as I was eavesdropping in the corridor, I heard the female accuse the Zartani of deception.”

Now Tain did spare his underling a glance. “What kind of deception are we talking about?”

The underling licked his lips, obviously reluctant to go on. “She said he was trying to pass off false information, which could get the Federation in trouble—perhaps in the course of a military encounter with the Ubarrak.”

Tain looked as if he had been punched in the gut. He glanced at Guinan, then Picard, and finally at Demmix. “I don’t like what I’m hearing,” he said.

The captain didn’t doubt it.

Tain had obviously gone to a great deal of trouble to find Demmix, confident that he would be performing an important service for the Cardassian Union—and perhaps for himself as well, since he would be the one to take credit for it.

Now he had to consider the possibility that he had been led on a wild-goose chase—that all his efforts in Oblivion, all the risks he had taken, had been for naught.

Tain eyed Demmix with cold, dark eyes. “I may have been a bit hasty,” said the Cardassian, “when I promised you a quicker death than Picard’s.”

“Oh?” said Demmix. And to Picard’s astonishment, the Zartani smiled, as if he were no longer the least bit concerned about Tain carrying out his threat.

Suddenly, Picard felt a vibration beneath his feet. If he didn’t know better, he would have said that the hulk’s engine had been activated.

“What’s going on?” Tain demanded of Demmix.

“Isn’t it obvious?” asked the Zartani.

But his voice was strangely muted. It was then that Picard realized a transparent energy barrier had been erected between Demmix and the rest of them.

Tain scowled. “Whatever it is, stop it.”

Demmix’s smile spread across his face. “Why? So I can earn a quicker death than Picard’s?”

As he said it, the captain felt a jolt. It seemed to him that something had collided with their hull.

No, he told himself. That cannot be right. The city’s shields would have deflected any foreign objects.

Then the truth dawned on him. They hadn’t been hit by anything. Their vessel had begun to move, and in the process jerked free of the hulk beside them….