Open Secrets

Fisher’s own expression had grown somber. “You got it.”

Turning to Desai, Reyes saw the tears that now flowed without restraint, streaming down her face. Without a word, she moved to him, gripping him in her arms and pressing her lips to his. Reyes was terrified to move even the slightest bit, for fear that his own emotions would force themselves to the surface and overwhelm him. They stood like that for several moments, neither willing to move, until Reyes heard a subtle, polite throat-clearing sound from Beyer.

“Sir.”

Looking to where the lieutenant stood, her face communicating her fervent desire to be anywhere and doing anything else, Reyes said, “I know.” Feeling the lump grow larger in his throat, he crossed the room and took his bag from the dining table. He wiped a tear from his eye before returning to Desai and the others. To Beyer, he said, “All right, Lieutenant. I’m ready.”

Beyer offered a formal nod. “As you requested, we’ve cleared a route to the hangar deck that’ll be free of spectators. We’ll get you to the Nowlanwithout fuss.”

“I appreciate that, Lieutenant.” It had been a personal request, one that did not have to be granted, but he had suspected that it would be honored when he learned that Beyer had volunteered to stand the final watch before Reyes’s transfer to the transport vessel.

Flanked by the guards, he made his way to the door of his quarters, preparing to exit them for the final time. Then he heard Desai call out from behind him.

“This isn’t over, Diego,” she said. Turning to face her, Reyes saw the sadness in her eyes, now coupled with new determination. “We’ve still got the appeals process. I’m already starting on that, and I’ll be in touch as soon as I can.”

Taking one last look at her, burning her face into his memory, Reyes offered what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

“You’ll know where I’ll be.”

46

For reasons he could not understand, Pe

“What the bloody hell’s wrong with me?” he asked as he wiped his sweaty palms on his trousers. “The last time I felt like this, I was picking up my prom date and meeting her father for the first time.”

“Did the father like you?” M’Benga asked, standing next to him as the pair waited outside the door to T’Pry

Pe

“An excellent judge of character, it turns out.”

The pair exchanged amused glances, and Pe

He and M’Benga had formed a casual friendship during the weeks they had spent here, thanks to both men’s easygoing natures. Pe

The sound of the door’s bolt being slid aside echoed in the hallway, and Pe

“T’Pry

Seated in a straight-backed chair near the window was T’Pry

“Good afternoon,” he said.

“Mr. Pe

M’Benga nodded. “I was just doing my job, Commander.”

“I’m told, Mr. Pe

“You’re welcome,” replied the journalist, offering a smile. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know how to explain it, except to say that at the time, you looked as if you could use a friend.” He felt his stomach lurch as he considered the woman before him, the architect of his professional downfall. As temporary as that expulsion might have been, it had arguably marked the lowest point in his life, surpassing even the ending of his marriage or the loss of his lover, Oriana D’Amato.

Now that she was here, there was much that he wanted to say, but this did not feel like the appropriate time. He thought he might try to visit her later in the day, or perhaps tomorrow, if she felt up to having visitors.

T’Pry

“How are you feeling?” M’Benga asked.

“Weak,” the Vulcan replied. “Except for a persistent headache, I am experiencing no pain. Healer Sobon tells me that there are a number of neurological issues that must be addressed before I can be declared fully recovered.” She unclasped her hands, and Pe

M’Benga crossed his arms. “These are residual effects of the coma, I take it?”

Nodding, T’Pry

The first hints of the afternoon heat encroaching on the house’s temperate climate were affecting Pe

“It’s likely that Starfleet will insist on your extradition, Commander,” M’Benga said. “They’ll argue that you’re well enough to travel to a Starfleet medical facility in order to complete your rehabilitation, during which you’ll almost certainly be under arrest. I can’t imagine a court-martial is far off, either.”

The right side of T’Pry

“I have no reason to argue or disagree with Sobon’s diagnosis or treatment suggestions,” M’Benga replied.