Then her house computer spoke. "Incoming message from the Palais de la Concorde."

"Oh, goody, Kant's gettin' back t'me."

For the first time since she lay back down, Ozla looked at Farik's face on the screen. It was heavily lined and etched with concern. Or maybe it was just the way his spots looked in this light. "Be careful, Ozla, all right?"

And then his face faded.

Ozla struggled to make her legs work, but she only succeeded in falling off the couch. At least that accomplished her goal, which was to move from the couch to the floor. She had been hoping to do it with her legs underneath her, but beggars couldn't be choosers. "Computer, hold call fr'm Palais."

"Acknowledged."

Using a footrest to brace herself, Ozla somehow managed to clamber to her feet. She felt like she was wobbling, but at least she was upright. Then she had to convince her legs to not just support her weight-at which they were only barely succeeding-but also to walk.

Taking slow, easy steps, using whatever furniture she could to brace herself where possible, Ozla slowly made her way to the bathroom, which was where she kept her anti-intoxicants. She got them six years ago and had no idea if they were still any good or not, as she hadn't drunk this much-well, ever.

She had to touch the medicine chest control three times before it finally deigned to slide aside, and then she had to squint to make out the labels on the bottles inside. Finally she found the right one.

After pulling on the top for several seconds, she remembered that the bottle had a touch-sensitive control on the bottom that allowed ingress. She touched it four times before it finally opened. Then she swallowed three pills.

Seconds later, she was as sober as she had been when Ihazs had confronted her in that bas.e.m.e.nt. And about as apprehensive.

Walking steadily, but nervously, back out to the living room, she said, "Computer, activate viewer."

Zhres's face appeared on the screen. "Ozla, Jorel would like to see you as soon as possible."

Here it comes, she thought. The moment of truth. Or the moment of lying. "Tell him I'll be right there."

What Ozla didn't know was what answer she wanted more: that Ihazs was right, or that he was wrong. Because the thing that scared her the most, the thing that had driven her to drain her supply of Saurian brandy, Orion whiskey, and Terran scotch was the knowledge that this story would absolutely make her career. It would make the Orion expose look like a university term paper.

And that scared the living h.e.l.l out of her.

William Ross had first visited the presidential office as a child. His parents had taken him on the tour of the Palais, and this office had been the last stop. He hadn't gotten to meet President Thelian, of course, although he'd met several councillors during the tour. The seven-year-old Billy Ross had thought the room absolutely huge.

He'd been back many times in his Starfleet career, particularly under Presidents Jaresh-Inyo, Zife, and now Bacco. Each time he'd come in, the room had seemed smaller, never more so than when he'd stood and watched Min Zife give a resignation speech that had been hastily written, not by anyone on Zife's speechwriting staff but rather by a Vulcan woman named L'Haan. It had been right after that that L'Haan and her a.s.sociates had taken Zife, Koll Azernal, and Nelino Quafina to their "retirement."

Ross had been surprised at being summoned to the fifteenth floor alone. Generally his visits with the president were in the company of other Starfleet officers, not to mention various members of the government-the chief of staff, various cabinet members, the security advisor, and so on. He was even more surprised when Bacco entered the office by herself, unaccompanied even by her right hand, Esperanza Piniero.

"Can you imagine that I'm getting more trouble from the Diplomatic Corps than the Klingon High Council about this d.a.m.n summit? Now they're concerned that we'll be insulting the Romulan Empire."

Allowing himself a small smile, Ross said, "It's been my experience, ma'am, that one should never underestimate the capacity of the Diplomatic Corps to give you more trouble."

At that, the president laughed. "Good point." She moved around to her desk and sat down.

"What can I do for you, Madam President?"

Bacco stared at him for a second. "Bill, it's been a bad day for me. The Pioneers lost three out of four to the Stars, which means they aren't Northern Division champions for the first time in four years. The Diplomatic Corps is giving me lots of reasons to order them all beheaded with guillotines on the ground floor of the building, just like the good old days six hundred years ago. And now I've had this dropped in my lap."

"What would 'this' be about, ma'am?" Ross asked, though the very fact that the president was calling him by his first name lent credence to several suspicions.

"The last person to have this office."

That confirmed the worst of those suspicions. "What about President Zife, ma'am?"

At once, all pretense of a friendly demeanor was gone, and Bacco angrily snapped, "Cut the c.r.a.p, Admiral! You and I both know what happened. We both know that Zife armed Tezwa with those pulse cannons and didn't tell anyone-least of all the dozen or so ships that got torn to pieces by those cannons. And we both know that you served him, Azernal, and Quafina with an ultimatum."

Ross knew all this, of course, but he didn't know that Bacco did. "How long- ?"

"Doesn't matter," Bacco said with a dismissive wave.

"Actually, ma'am, due respect-it does matter." Ross hesitated. Nan Bacco was a good woman, and he didn't want to make it sound as if he was accusing her of something, but he had to know the answer to this. "Did you know when I offered to consult for your campaign?"

"No. I found out later-the morning of the first debate, in fact. By then, the campaign was at full bore, and- " She shook her head. "I don't know, I didn't really think about it. We had eight billion other things on our minds at that point, and I was a lot more concerned with what Zife did than what you did. But what you did..." She got up and let out a long breath. "For the last year, I've been wondering what to do with you, Bill. I mean, you showed my predecessor the door, and there's a part of me that's been wondering, What happens if I do something to p.i.s.s him off?"

"That's unlikely, ma'am. There were a lot of reasons why I chose to show such public support for your campaign, and one of the biggest was the fact that I had faith in your inability to put me in the position President Zife did."

Bacco, who had been staring out the window at the sunset over Paris, now whirled around at Ross. "G.o.d, do you know what you sounded like just then?"

"Ma'am?"

"It's not enough that you removed Min Zife from power, but then you took it upon yourself to use whatever influence you could to put the person you preferred in his place."

Ross shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Ma'am, I think you overestimate my importance. You won that election without any help from me."

"Bull," Bacco said angrily. "I had plenty of help from you, and while I'm flattered that you think I could've managed without it, that doesn't change the fact that you did what you did. Now maybe I should've said something right after Esperanza found out, but I thought it was best to let it lie. We need to move past what Zife did to the Federation, and we couldn't do that if we rehashed Tezwa all over again."

Ross frowned. "I take the fact that we're having this meeting to indicate that something's changed."

Bacco nodded. "There's a reporter down on the second floor right now who just had a long conversation with Kant Jorel, who then had a long conversation with Esperanza, who just had a long conversation with me, during the middle of which I had Sivak call you over here." She walked back over to her desk and sat back down. "This reporter knows that Zife was responsible for the cannons on Tezwa, knows that Tezwa couldn't afford those cannons and the Danteri ships they bought, knows that Quafina used the Orion Syndicate to funnel the cannons to Tezwa, and knows that Starfleet found out and that they-that is to say, you-forced Zife to resign to pay for the rather vicious crimes he committed, since a public airing of them would be disastrous."

Appalled, Ross asked, "You're not going to let the story run, are you?" At that, Bacco tilted her head, and Ross realized he'd misspoken. "I mean, there must be some way to convince-I mean- "

"What do you suggest, Admiral?" Bacco asked tightly. "We make this person disappear? That's not how we do things."

Ross had to almost physically restrain himself.

Then Bacco got a look of horror on her face. "Isn't it?"

"Ma'am?"

"Back in May when Jaresh-Inyo died, Esperanza tried to track Zife down to invite him to the funeral on Mars. She couldn't find him. She couldn't find any sign of him. n.o.body on Bolarus, on Earth, anywhere knew where to find the most prominent person in the Federation for the last eight years. It shouldn't be that hard, if all he did was retire."

Ross said nothing. He worked for this woman, admired this woman, and because of that, because he knew how important she was to the Federation, how necessary it was that she keep doing the job she was doing, he could not under any circ.u.mstances afford to tell her the whole truth.

Because if she knew what he knew, she would disappear as completely as Min Zife, Koll Azernal, and Nelino Quafina had. And there would be nothing William Ross could do about it this time, either.

"You know, when I started this conversation," she said, "I was concerned about what I had to do, but the more I talk to you, Admiral, the less problem I have with it."

Now Ross was confused. "I don't know what you- "

"The reporter-and I think I'm going to refrain from giving you the person's name-has discussed the matter with the Palais press liaison and has informed him that there is a condition on which the story will not be run. If that condition is met, the story will in fact be buried where no one can find it."

Ross didn't hesitate. He stood up. "My resignation?"

Bacco regarded him. "Actually, the terms weren't that specific. All that was required was that you no longer have any influence over the running of the Federation or Starfleet. Resignation, retirement, ritual suicide, whatever, as long as you become just an ordinary Federation civilian who's no longer in a position to exert undue and illegal influence on the Federation government."

"Then I'll resign immediately, ma'am." Ross didn't hesitate. This was the only way to preserve the Federation, and Ross never hesitated when it was necessary to preserve the Federation. After he spoke, the thought occurred to him that he would no longer be the highest-ranking Starfleet officer who was answerable to the organization, which meant he'd no longer be able to control their actions. Then he laughed bitterly to himself, being careful to keep his poker face for President Bacco. The control was always theirs, and I'm fooling myself if I ever thought otherwise.

Then Bacco surprised Ross by saying, "No. Not resignation. Resigning sends up red flags. People resign in protest or resign because of disagreements or to avoid scandal. Retirement, though, that's normal-particularly for someone like you. You led our forces during a vicious war, and you've stayed at the forefront of the admiralty ever since. In fact, lots of people were surprised you didn't retire after the Founders surrendered."

Ross saw the wisdom in her words. "In that case, ma'am, I'll announce my retirement tomorrow morning."

She nodded.

"Thank you, Madam President." He turned to leave.

"Bill?"

He stopped and turned around. "Ma'am?"

Focusing a remarkable amount of anger and confusion into one word, Bacco asked, "Why? I can understand why you had to remove him from power, but why take the next step?"

Why kill them? Ross could understand why Bacco couldn't say the words out loud. He took a moment to compose his answer in such a way that it wouldn't even hint to Bacco the real reason. She had to be shielded from that-even though he knew that if there was ever a president who might be able to stand up to them, it was her-and so he said, "Because they killed millions of people-directly or indirectly. Every death caused by those cannons, every death caused by the Klingons' retaliation, every death caused by Kinchawn's guerillas after he was removed from power-all of those deaths were on their heads. And worse, they caused more death in order to keep themselves absolved of the crime, and they did it from a distance so they could create the illusion that their hands were clean." He took a breath. "And so for five minutes in the Monet Room last year, I became them. That reporter downstairs is absolutely right in that there should be consequences for that, and my only regret in all this is that I didn't take this action before it endangered your presidency, ma'am. For that, I am truly sorry."

Bacco said nothing. Ross hoped that she believed his words-which were certainly true, as far as they went.

Then, finally, she nodded her head.

"Thank you, Madam President."

As Ross turned back around, he wondered what the consequences for him would be. He suspected that they'd let him live out his life in solitude, as long as he didn't get on their sensor screen.

Whatever else he might have done, he had performed the paramount duty: Keep the organization a secret.

His cause for optimism lay in the knowledge that they acted only when they felt it was necessary, as well as in his faith in Nan Bacco's ability to steer the Federation onto a course that would keep them from finding that necessity.

The doors slid apart, and William Ross exited the presidential office for the last time.

December 2380 "Far and away the best prize that life offers is the chance to work hard at work worth doing."

- Theodore Roosevelt

Chapter Twenty-Five.

THE OBSERVER FOUND the limited beings to be most fascinating. His report to his superiors was almost finished. Over the course of his studies, he had noted that the limited beings would have public discussions about issues that were deemed relevant to their lives, which were disseminated throughout their nation. He had decided to witness one of these discussions, to see if it would provide any additional insight into the limited beings.

"Good evening. This is Illuminating the City of Light, I'm your host, Velisa. The Palais is gearing up for the summit, but there are still a lot of unanswered questions. Where will it be held? What will be on the agenda? Will the Romulans be involved?"

The person speaking was biologically of the fifth gender that he had catalogued, colloquial name female, and native of Planet AV9, colloquial name Krios. She seemed to be the leader of the discussion. To her left was another gender-five, a native of Planet AQ1, colloquial name Vulcan. To her right were a gender-seven (male) from Planet BT5 (Earth), and a gender-two (shen) from Planet AC1 (Andor). There was also a communication device between the AV9 and the AQ1, which displayed the face of another gender-seven, this one from Planet DO3 (Delta).

"With me tonight to discuss the summit are retired Starfleet Captain Charles Reynolds, who has fought both against and alongside the Klingon Defense Force; former secretary of the exterior under Min Zife, Ythrilasifsa sh'Zathrosia; Councillor T'Latrek of Vulcan, the chair of the external affairs council; and, remotely from Qo'noS, FNS's Klingon Empire correspondent, Teneso. Welcome, all of you."

The observer amended his report to include the nomenclature and position, though they all had far too many syllables to suit him. Since what they did was more important than what they were called, he referred to them by position.

The discussion leader turned to the current councillor. "T'Latrek, can you tell us what the president and the council would like to get out of this summit?"

"To build on the cooperative efforts surrounding the investigation of the Klorgat IV disaster and the equally cooperative efforts to maintain peace in Romulan s.p.a.ce."

"That is a forlorn hope," the former government official said.

The discussion leader turned to her. "Why do you say that, Ythril?"

"The Klingons don't cooperate. Neither do the Romulans."

"Short memory you've got there, Madam Secretary," the former Starfleet captain said. "You were in the cabinet during the war, weren't you-when all three governments cooperated?"

"That was a special case. That was an alliance of convenience. In their entire history, the Romulan Star Empire has never maintained an alliance with any outside power for more than a few years. Their entire culture is based on a belief in their manifest destiny to rule the galaxy."

The captain nodded his head up and down, which, the observer had learned, was an indication of affirmation. "That may be-and I admit, I fought alongside some d.a.m.n arrogant Romulans during the war-but it's not like there's a shortage of arrogance on our side of the Neutral Zone, either."

The councillor raised one of her eyebrows, an affectation common among her species. "Captain Reynolds's point is well taken, if a bit... colorful. But it is important to note that there has not been an all-out war among any of the three major powers since the Organian Peace Treaty was signed one hundred and thirteen years ago."

The former official's antennae made a peculiar motion that the observer did not know the significance of. "That isn't for a lack of trying on anyone's part."

The captain interjected a point. "I think that's only true if you don't count when the Klingons pulled outta Khitomer a couple years before the war, Councillor."

"That conflict was between the empire and the Carda.s.sian Union," the councillor said. "There were skirmishes between Starfleet and Defense Force ships, it's true, but no formal conflict was declared by the council."

"A technicality," the former official said.

"Ythril's right," the captain said, "I was in charge of the Centaur then, and let me tell you, it sure felt like a war when those birds-of-prey hammered me to pieces."

Before any more could be said, the discussion leader turned to the person on the screen behind her, a journalist. "Teneso, what's your impression of the High Council's wishes for the summit?"

"Well, Velisa, there are plenty of people on the High Council who would be more than happy to declare war on the entire galaxy. But Chancellor Martok and his supporters on the council know how beneficial the Federation alliance has been for the empire in the long term. Besides, it's not like the Klingons have been starved for battle in the years since the war. I think that Martok wants to strengthen the alliance, not weaken it, which is something that may cost him a little from some of the hardliners on the council, but which will ultimately work out for him. Martok has the advantage of being incredibly popular with the people of the empire, more than any chancellor since Kravokh, and probably even more than him. He's credited with winning the war and with continuing the work of Emperor Kahless."

"T'Latrek, do you think that President Bacco and Chancellor Martok will be able to work together?"

The councillor again raised her eyebrow. "Both the president and chancellor are reasonable. This is not a description that would apply to many Klingon chancellors-nor, indeed, to many Federation presidents."

The discussion leader's face changed into what the observer recognized as a smile, indicating agreement and/or pleasure. "What about the Romulans?"

Before the councillor could respond, the former official's antennae made that odd motion again, and she said, "They shouldn't be allowed anywhere near the summit. This is a meeting of superpowers, and that's not something the Romulan Star Empire can call themselves since their senate was rather literally dissolved."