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His sharp words seemed to make some impact on Hadlo, and the old man stiffened, regaining his poise for a brief moment. “This is the time. This is the moment I warned you of when we spoke in the library of the Naghai Keep. The purge has begun. All our churches are burning, Be
“Purge?” The word almost choked him.
Hadlo nodded, the image jerking and fracturing. “Kell’s promises to us have been finally broken, open to the world. The military are rounding up everyone who follows the Way. Shattering the masks and setting the scrolls to the torch.”
“No!” Be
“Listen to me, boy!”said the cleric, his eyes wide. “I have gathered as many of the faithful as I can, and we are fleeing the homeworld.”
“You…you’re on a starship?”
“Yes.”Interference turned his words into a buzzing rattle. “I ca
“The Badlands,” said Be
Hadlo was nodding. “In time we will be reunited, but for the moment you must stay in sanctuary on Bajor. Oralius will keep you safe there.”
“No,” Be
“No!”Hadlo shouted, the feedback from his sudden outburst crackling over the static-filled transmission. “I forbid it! In Oralius’s name, you shall not leave that place! Sanctuary, Be
Be
There was a knock at his door, and Be
But the figure that came in from the storm was not a soldier with a phaser rifle. “Be
In spite of his own concerns, the emotion in the woman’s voice made him push everything else to one side. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Ranjen Gar. He’s lost…He was in a flyer with Pasir and they never arrived at their destination.” She blinked back tears. “Oh, Be
“Pasir? No, I can’t lose him as well…” It was too much for him. Suddenly, as if a wave of despair had dragged him under, the Oralian cradled his head in his hands. “Tima…Tima, everything is disintegrating around us. I’ve been forsaken…”
She came to him, putting her arm around his shoulders. “Be
“But your friend—”
Tima held him, and he found himself wanting only to do the same to her. “His friends are helping him. Let me…Let me help you.”
With a trembling voice, every fear and every hope poured out of Be
The rain lashed across the blackened disks of the flyer pads in hard, windblown waves that made the Watch officers curse and pull their jackets and caps down tight. Darrah glared at the cloud-wreathed sky, daring it to do its worst. And it will,he thought to himself. This is only the leading edge of the storm cell. There’s more to come.
He faced his men. “You’ve all got the pattern, you all know your assigned sectors. Coordinate through Constable Proka and Myda back at the precinct. The instant you find anything, you radio it in. Clear?” There was a chorus of assent, and he threw a sharp gesture at the parked flyers. “Then get going. But no heroics. I don’t want to lose anyone else out there.”
As the crews ran to their craft, Proka tugged on Darrah’s arm. “Boss? Got a problem. We’re a man short. You need a copilot and we haven’t got one.”
Darrah grimaced, making for his flyer. “I don’t give a damn about regulations,” he shot back. “I’ll search my pattern on my own.”
“Can’t let you, boss,” Proka insisted. “It’s filthy sky up there. You take a lightning strike or something—” He snorted. “No heroics, that’s what you just said.”
“I’m going,” growled the inspector, “and that’s an end to it.”
Proka nodded. “Thought you’d see it that way. So I got you a civvie volunteer instead.”
Darrah threw open the gull-wing hatch of the flyer and his gaze fell on the Cardassian sitting in the copilot’s chair.
“Inspector,” said Pa’Dar. “I was stranded at the port when the weather grounded my shuttle to Dahkur. I overheard the constable, and—”
Darrah looked at Proka. “That’s a very creative solution, Mig.”
The Watch officer stared back at him. “Needs must. He’s a scientist, isn’t he? He’ll know how to handle the sca
Darrah waved the other man off and climbed inside the flyer, dropping smartly into the pilot’s couch.
Pa’Dar cleared his throat. “I realize it might be unusual for you to work directly with a Cardassian,” he began.
“Why are you doing this?” Darrah cut him off. “The missing Cardassian, Pasir. He’s an Oralian and you’re not. I get the impression that most of your people wouldn’t miss one of them lost in a storm.” Applying power to the thrusters, Darrah guided the flyer shakily into the turbulent sky.
After a long moment, the alien replied. “There are times when things are not as they seem, Inspector. I would think that as an officer of the law, you would be aware of that.”
“I suppose so,” Darrah admitted. “You know what? Right now, I really don’t care. I just want to find my friend, so work those sensors and help me do that.” He steered the flyer on a westerly course, and the ungainly police craft shot into the storm.
It was hard to reckon the passage of time in the flyer’s enclosed cockpit. Pa’Dar’s flight became a single round of chaotic rises and falls as the Bajoran forced the complaining ship through churning air. Outside he could see nothing but the sluice of hard rain streaking the canopy, and every few minutes there was a brilliant glare of blue-white as lightning surged. Pa’Dar glimpsed what could have been towering anvils of cloud or possibly mountain canyons; the image burned a purple blur into his retinas.