room’s two-way mirror. The doctor was right—she was a mess.
The look of someone lost.
She didn’t recognize herself anymore. Iliana thought she knew what she was doing, but ever since her conversation with Sisko, she’d felt adrift. Every choice she’d made up to now had been a disaster. She couldonly hope she still had enough time to set things right before the other Iliana became the new face of the Prophets.
There’s a thought. A new face.
With a burst of renewed energy, Ghemor turned to face her hosts. “I think I have an idea….”
PART THREE
THE ALTERNATE UNIVERSE
7
FIVE DAYS AGO
“M y patience is wearing thin, L’Haan,” Iliana said as she considered the view beyond the panoramic window of her suite aboard the Negh’Var, watching the elongated starlight stream past—an illusion of the warship’s superluminal velocity. She’d long since grown weary of the view. Her rendezvous with the Alliance battle fleet at Regulon was now only minutes away, and still the Vulcan handmaiden had not kept up her end of the bargain they had struck prior to Iliana’s arrival in this twisted universe. “You assured me you understood the mechanism’s function.”
In the reflective transparency of the window, Iliana saw L’Haan bowing deeply, the scanty silken veils that passed for servants’ attire in this place once again billowing around her slender frame as she moved. Iliana’s predecessor had clearly been a creature of vulgar sensibilities.
“With respect, Intendant,” L’Haan said, “the fault is not with my understanding, but with the mechanism itself.”
Intendant.
The title brought a faint smile to Iliana’s lips, which she admired in her reflection. She was a perfect match for the Kira Nerys of this universe, from the gaudy silver headpiece that crowned her red hair to the toes of the narrow boots that completed her clinging black bodysuit. Three days after the she’d claimed her new identity, the euphoria of slitting that other Kira’s throat lingered like the heady effect of an exquisite wine.
But she knew that she owed some measure of her success thus far to L’Haan. Reaching out surreptitiously to Intendant Kira’s handmaiden had been a tricky but essential maneuver. As a personal slave, and a Vulcan, L’Haan was uniquely positioned to take note of Kira’s most closely guarded secrets, and to advise Iliana on how to carry off her masquerade. She needed only to be convinced to stay out of the way until the switch could be made during the Negh’Var’ s detour to Harkoum. And despite her lowly station in the hierarchy of the Alliance, she was already proving that she was not without useful skills of her own.
Iliana turned away from her reflection to look at the Vulcan. “Exactly what are you telling me?”
L’Haan kept her eyes fixed on the floor. “I am saying that Professor Ke’s dimensional transporter does not function as it was intended.”
Iliana glanced toward the elaborate array of equipment surrounding the blank wall at the far end of her spacious quarters. “That’s impossible,” she spat. “We made the journey over, Taran’atar and I, using that very device. How can you stand there and tell me—”
“That involved the use of the transporter in a manner that is already proven to work,” L’Haan explained. “To bridge the two known parallel universes. But Professor Ke warned your predecessor that the system he created to broaden the dimensional reach of the transporter was unstable. I suspect he was trying to prepare her for the possibility of failure, and that he would require more time to perfect it. Unfortunately, she killed him before its ability to reach other alternate realities was substantiated.”
Iliana wanted to scream. How supremely stupid could this continuum’s Kira have been to kill the machine’s creator before it could be tested? Wasn’t it enough that Shing-kur had fed the Intendant the idea of creating a metadimensional transporter in
The look of someone lost.
She didn’t recognize herself anymore. Iliana thought she knew what she was doing, but ever since her conversation with Sisko, she’d felt adrift. Every choice she’d made up to now had been a disaster. She couldonly hope she still had enough time to set things right before the other Iliana became the new face of the Prophets.
There’s a thought. A new face.
With a burst of renewed energy, Ghemor turned to face her hosts. “I think I have an idea….”
PART THREE
THE ALTERNATE UNIVERSE
7
FIVE DAYS AGO
“M y patience is wearing thin, L’Haan,” Iliana said as she considered the view beyond the panoramic window of her suite aboard the Negh’Var, watching the elongated starlight stream past—an illusion of the warship’s superluminal velocity. She’d long since grown weary of the view. Her rendezvous with the Alliance battle fleet at Regulon was now only minutes away, and still the Vulcan handmaiden had not kept up her end of the bargain they had struck prior to Iliana’s arrival in this twisted universe. “You assured me you understood the mechanism’s function.”
In the reflective transparency of the window, Iliana saw L’Haan bowing deeply, the scanty silken veils that passed for servants’ attire in this place once again billowing around her slender frame as she moved. Iliana’s predecessor had clearly been a creature of vulgar sensibilities.
“With respect, Intendant,” L’Haan said, “the fault is not with my understanding, but with the mechanism itself.”
Intendant.
The title brought a faint smile to Iliana’s lips, which she admired in her reflection. She was a perfect match for the Kira Nerys of this universe, from the gaudy silver headpiece that crowned her red hair to the toes of the narrow boots that completed her clinging black bodysuit. Three days after the she’d claimed her new identity, the euphoria of slitting that other Kira’s throat lingered like the heady effect of an exquisite wine.
But she knew that she owed some measure of her success thus far to L’Haan. Reaching out surreptitiously to Intendant Kira’s handmaiden had been a tricky but essential maneuver. As a personal slave, and a Vulcan, L’Haan was uniquely positioned to take note of Kira’s most closely guarded secrets, and to advise Iliana on how to carry off her masquerade. She needed only to be convinced to stay out of the way until the switch could be made during the Negh’Var’ s detour to Harkoum. And despite her lowly station in the hierarchy of the Alliance, she was already proving that she was not without useful skills of her own.
Iliana turned away from her reflection to look at the Vulcan. “Exactly what are you telling me?”
L’Haan kept her eyes fixed on the floor. “I am saying that Professor Ke’s dimensional transporter does not function as it was intended.”
Iliana glanced toward the elaborate array of equipment surrounding the blank wall at the far end of her spacious quarters. “That’s impossible,” she spat. “We made the journey over, Taran’atar and I, using that very device. How can you stand there and tell me—”
“That involved the use of the transporter in a manner that is already proven to work,” L’Haan explained. “To bridge the two known parallel universes. But Professor Ke warned your predecessor that the system he created to broaden the dimensional reach of the transporter was unstable. I suspect he was trying to prepare her for the possibility of failure, and that he would require more time to perfect it. Unfortunately, she killed him before its ability to reach other alternate realities was substantiated.”
Iliana wanted to scream. How supremely stupid could this continuum’s Kira have been to kill the machine’s creator before it could be tested? Wasn’t it enough that Shing-kur had fed the Intendant the idea of creating a metadimensional transporter in
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