Chapter Twelve

“PICARD TO RIKER.”

The call woke Riker.

“Go ahead,” Riker said to the darkness over his bed. He pushed himself up and glanced at the clock near his bed. It had only been four hours since he had fallen asleep. He still had three hours before the day’s meetings were to start.

“I need you to meet me in transporter room one in fifteen minutes.”

“Yes, sir,” Riker said.

Without a wasted motion he was out of bed and getting ready. Twelve minutes later he walked into the transporter room. Captain Picard was already there.

“Sorry to wake you, Number One,” he said as he stepped up on the pad.

“Not a problem,” Riker said. “Troubles, I gather.”

“I think so,” Picard said. Then he said to the transporter chief, “Energize.”

The next moment they were being greeted in Ops by Commander Sisko and Dax.

“This looks serious,” Riker said softly to Dax as they headed for the lift.

“It is,” she said.

Within a few minutes they met Odo in a corridor that Riker figured to be an empty living or guest quarters. But he wasn’t familiar enough with the layout of the station to be sure.

“Any more information?” Sisko asked Odo as they stopped in front of an open door.

“No, sir,” Odo said. “We have left everything as we found it.” He indicated they all should enter.

Just inside the door was the body of a Saurian, his long, slender fingers and thin frame looking even thinner in death. His blood had pooled under him, leaving a damp, almost metallic smell in the air. His eyes were open, staring. Obviously his last sight had been his attacker.

Riker stepped inside the door and around the body to give room for Picard and Sisko to follow.

“Knife wound, into the lungs,” Odo said, kneeling over the body and pointing to the chest. “His name is Nibo Hoq. He is a Saurian trader, with a ship full of legal goods. He has been here three days for repairs.”

Picard knelt over the Saurian and studied him for a moment, then stood. “Any other record?”

Odo nodded. “He had a reputation of being able to

deliver information to the highest bidder. He was never caught doing anything illegal, but we suspected him and had kept him under fairly tight watch.”

“Nothing, I gather, came up?” Picard asked. “Correct, sir,” Odo said. “Nibo Hoq did nothing suspicious during his three days here.”

“Except die,” Dax said.

“Except that,” Odo agreed.

Riker glanced around the empty room. At first glance there was no sign that anyone had inhabited the room since the last cleaning. But then on closer inspection he could see smudges on the table. And in the center of the floor what looked to be a few small drops of something. He moved over to them and knelt, trying to get a better picture of just what they were.

“Wax,” Odo said, moving over and standing above Riker. “From first guess I would say simple candle wax.” He turned and pointed to the door. “Sensors in the door were circumvented so that it could be pushed open and closed without station monitors catching the movement.”

“Is that easy to do?” Picard asked.

Commander Sisko laughed without humor. “Cardassian technology has many different ways in and around it. This was a new one for us.”

“So how did you find him in here?” Picard asked, pointing to the Saurian. “He doesn’t appear to have been dead that long.”

“would estimate two hours at most,” Odo said.

“Does this have anything to do with the meetings?”

Riker asked. “Or the bombing?.”

Commander Sisko motioned to Odo that he would explain the rest. “That’s where the main problem comes in,” Sisko said. “A guard noticed the door slightly ajar. When he pushed it open to investigate, he was hit and knocked out. He said the Saurian was already dead. He saw that as he opened the door. He also said it was a Klingon warrior who hit him.”

“What?” Riker asked.

“He is certain?” Picard asked.

“Yes, Captain,” Odo said. “The guard can’t identify his attacker, but he knows it was a Klingon.”

Picard glanced at Riker who only shook his head. Riker didn’t want to fully believe what he had just heard. The implications of that would take a moment to sink in. He went back to studying the room to give his mind some time to work. He could see no other evidence. And nothing that would make any sense of this so far.

“So how many Klingons are on the station at this moment?” Picard asked, after a moment of silence in the room.

“None,” Commander Sisko said.

“That we know of,” Odo said. “All the Klingons with Gowron’s ships beam back to their respective ships every night. There are no others here.”

“And one could not remain behind,” Dax said. “We have a careful check system, as well as transporter records. No one stayed behind after Quark’s closed last night. We have already double-checked.”

“Shields have been kept up except during beaming,” Sisko said. “And we have monitored every single transmission to or from the station.”

Picard glanced down at the body of the Saurian. “Yet a Klingon was seen here?”

Sisko nodded.

“It seems,” Picard said, “that we have what they used to call a locked-room mystery in detective Hetion. A Klingon is the prime suspect. Yet no Klingon could have done this.”

Riker moved back to the door and studied the lock and the door. Then he tried to push it closed. It was very heavy. And very hard to push. He doubted the thin, light Saurian could have done it. But a Klingon warrior could easily have.

“What information would have been valuable to a Klingon?” Picard asked. He glanced around the room, looking for any answer. “Information that this Saurian might have?”

“Valuable enough to kill for?“‘Dax said. “I don’t know.”

“A threat against Gowron’s life?” Riker said. “It fits with the Cardassian warnings.”

“That it does, Number One,” Picard said. “But just how?”

“I don’t know how,” Odo said. “But at the moment I have two bodies, a rogue Klingon, and no answers. I don’t like that.”

“Neither do I,” Commander Sisko said, his deep voice filling the small room. “Neither do I.”

On that point, Riker had to agree. He didn’t like it either. And he had a very bad feeling about all this.

Lursa sat in the command chair in the near darkness of the Bird of Prey bridge. She kept staring at the Federation station on longrange scan. She grew tired of waiting. They had waited for over a day now. Cloaked. Sitting in the darkness. The day’s meetings between the Federation and the dog Gowron were about to start. She had heard nothing from her contacts.

Behind her the door to bridge hissed open. A moment later B’Etor stood by her side. She said nothing, There was nothing to say.

“Take the watch,” Lursa said. “I will get food.”

She stood. B’Etor slipped into the command chair. They could not afford to wait much longer. Yet they had no choice.

She was almost off the bridge when her communications officer said, “Incoming message from the station. Cloaked channel.”

Instantly B’Etor was beside Lursa behind the officer. He worked quickly to decode the message, then turned to them. “Gowron is always the first to beam

off the station after the day’s meetings.”

“Anything more?”

“No.”

B’Etor turned, almost angry. “What is dRacLa thinking? His information is worthless.”

“No, sister,” Lursa said. “It is good information.

Exact information. And it will allow us to carry on with our plan.”

B’Etor stopped and turned. Ready to argue with her sister. But when she saw Lursa was smiling, she stopped. Lursa had not smiled in days. And only the possibility of Gowron’s death would make her smile so. This message truly was good.