Текст книги "This Gray Spirit "

Автор книги: Heathe Jarman

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Текущая страница: 29 (всего у книги 30 страниц)

The doors to his quarters opened and Nog poked his head out. “Hey, Shar. I’ve decided to head back to the ship. The commander called a minute ago. He said an encrypted message came through marked ‘eyes only,’ but apparently it was for you and not Vaughn. He’s having it rerouted here.”

“Thank you, Nog,” Shar said, gazing at the egg container. “I’ll be along soon. But I want to sit here for a few minutes longer.”

“Okay. I’ll see you shipboard then?”

Shar nodded.

He ran his fingers over Keren’s gift, imagining that the answers he’d sought his entire life might lie within. Bowing his head, he covered his eyes, offering gratitude to whatever power in the universe had brought him to this place at this time. He would never regret the choices that brought him here; he would never be the same person after today. For a moment he meditated, savoring the gentle trickle of water spilling over the fountain, the occasional rustle of leaves. When he opened his eyes, he was ready to return to duty. Holding the gift protectively against him, he entered his quarters.

*  *  *

Sleeping late was a rare indulgence, but it felt nice to flaunt the routine one last time before starting up the rigors of co-commanding a Starfleet mission. Soon enough, Ezri would be stumbling into the mess, muttering her request to the replicator and feeling her way to a table. Choosing to loll about, half dressed, eating a breakfast of succulent fresh fruits and licking the juice off your fingers wasn’t something she anticipated being able to do before she returned to Deep Space 9. Never mind that she had the guest quarters to herself. To provide him with adequate time to restock the medical bay, Julian had reported to duty two hours ago. Ezri stayed behind, wrapped up in her covers, relishing the warmth streaming through the courtyard windows. A check of the chronometer indicated she still had another hour before she met with Vaughn to allocate duty shifts. A walk. A walk sounds nice.She pulled on an old favorite pair of Academy sweats and ambled out to the balcony.

Spending these weeks on Luthia made her wonder if more nature could be incorporated into the station’s auspices. Outside the arboretum and a few botany labs, assuaging a craving for trees and flowers required time in a holosuite, or a trip to Bajor. Leisurely, Ezri walked down the stairs, bending over to examine the fragrant ground cover. She took a seat on a bench, throwing her legs out in front of her, throwing back her head and closing her eyes, soaking up the light for a last few precious minutes.

“…I wish there was something we could have done. Dr. Girani had no idea the infirmary was missing anything and…”

Ezri sat up straight. I swear I heard voices.

“—until you come home. I don’t know what else to tell you. The others are too distraught to speak right now.”

She twisted around, trying to see who might still be in quarters because if she had to guess, she’d just heard Charivretha zh’Thane. Maybe I drank too much wine last night or those chocolate pastries didn’t sit well with my stomach.Shar’s courtyard door was open, the curtains blowing. Cautiously, Ezri approached the open door. The closer she came, the more clear the voice and as she listened, the context became clear. Standing outside, Ezri braced herself on the doorway, willing her thudding heart to stop. What can I do?She considered walking away. Invading his privacy right now could be exactly the wrong thing—or it could be exactly what he needed. She pushed aside the curtain and stepped inside.

With his back to the courtyard door, he sat on the floor in front of the console. She had been right—the speaker was zh’Thane. The Federation Councillor sat in a chair in what looked like VIP quarters on DS9, the pain etched on her face expressing more than her words could.

“Her death was painless. I know you wouldn’t have wanted her to suffer. None of us understand why she did it. She seemed—better. I am sorry, mychei.”

The screen turned to static and then the message replayed.

“Thirishar, I wish I could be sending this message under happier circumstances, but a great tragedy has befallen us—”

Ezri knelt down, touched Shar’s shoulder. He turned with a start, his limbs trembling uncontrollably. Wide-eyed, he stared at Ezri, his pain, unfathomable. Helplessness swelled inside her and she ached for him. She opened and closed her mouth several times, searching for words. I shouldn’t be here.Zh’Thane’s heartbreaking message continued to play in the background. What can I give him? I’m not equipped for this—I can’t make it better!From deep inside her, an answer, of a kind, came. Not so much an answer as a knowing, a knowing from Dax.

You. He needs you, Ezri.

Tears welled in her eyes. “I’m so sorry…” She gathered him into her arms and he yielded to her touch.

They wept together.

Epilogue

“I’m not an invalid!” protested Kasidy.

“No, you’re not,” Kira said patiently, clearing the dessert plates off the coffee table and heading off to the kitchen, “but you’ve spent the last half hour rubbing your arches. Your feet must be killing you after our walk today. Let me remind you that visiting every last stall at the market was your idea.”

“If my feet get any bigger, I’m going to have to attach warnings to my shoes saying, ‘Watch out—wide berth.’” Wincing, she threw her body forward, hoping the momentum would help her off the couch. The baby, however, had different ideas, choosing that moment to thrust its head squarely into her diaphragm. She grunted as it suddenly became hard to breathe. “I’ll think I’ll just stay here for a bit,” she said, settling back into the cushions. From across the room, Kasidy saw Kira grin.

“Having a laugh at my expense, Colonel?” Kasidy teased, grateful that Kira had gradually unwound over the past few days; initially, her smiles had been infrequent.

Upon arrival, Kira had been so pale (Kasidy swore she’d lost weight as well), Kasidy thought she might be coming down with something serious. A more logical explanation for her condition quickly became apparent: she hadn’t been on Bajor an hour before the station contacted her, with the next message arriving fifteen minutes after the first. Kasidy had quickly instituted a daily pattern of long walks—asking Kira to leave her combadge back at the house.

Kira scraped chocolate frosting off the plates into the recycler and deposited the plates in the sink to be washed later. “I was just remembering this time…a month before Kirayoshi was born. Sitting in Quark’s with Jadzia, I’d probably had a liter of juice. The little guy decided it’d be a good time to play hoverball with my bladder.”

It was Kasidy’s turn to laugh, relating all too well to Kira’s anecdote. Throwing her legs up so she sat sideways, Kas rested her chin on the back of the couch and watched Kira continue cleaning up. Though the meal had been simple, salads made with fresh greens and vegetables from her garden and squash soup, old-fashioned cooking tended to make a mess no matter how many shortcuts technology might provide.

“I vote we replicate breakfast,” Kira said, pouring the last of the soup into a storage container. Clearing off the counters, she shuttled clean goblets into the cupboard and tossed a handful of kater pods into the produce basket. Wiping her hands on a towel, she crossed back to the sitting room and resumed her perch on Kasidy’s favorite overstuffed chair.

“Cooking can be bothersome,” Kasidy conceded, “but there’s nothing quite as satisfying as getting your hands dirty doingsomething and then enjoying the fruits of your labors.”

“You know…you sound like Benjamin when you talk like that,” Kira said wistfully.

“I think that’s one of the reasons I cook: it helps me keep him close.”

“Do you—” Kira began, but hesitated.

“Get lonely?” she said, completing the question. “Miss him?” Since Kira arrived, they both had kept their conversations light. Kas assumed Kira needed the respite from her worries about the station as much as Kas needed to stop dwelling on Jake.

“I wasn’t trying to be nosy,” Kira apologized.

Kasidy held up a hand to stop her. “Everyone wonders and my honest answer is, of course. After the station—after being a ship’s captain—the quiet around here took some getting used to. Now I actually like it.” She said it and she meant it. At first, Kasidy followed through with the “dream house” project because she felt like she owed it to Ben. Gradually, she became caught up in the details, grateful to be staying busy. She was surprised how much time she spent selecting the stones for the fireplace, talking with the carpenter who carved the mantel, and finding just the right hand-thrown pottery plates that would sit on her kitchen table. Attributing her preoccupation with rugs and end tables to a maternal nesting instinct felt plausible to her. Then one day, standing in this very room she sat in now, she was savoring the warm sun streaming through the windows when she realized that she loved it here. This was herhome. Her lullabies would whisper through its rafters. Fresh asters and Bajoran lilacs from the garden she planted would fill vases in every room. Jake—and Ben—would return here. Until then, she would make it ready to welcome them. “I have my fears,” she said at last. “And I’d sleep easier knowing Jake was safe, but I’m happy.”

“I’m glad you’re happy, Kas. You’ve had more than your share of heartache since the war ended,” Kira said, turning her gaze to watch the evening’s first moonrise.

“We all have,” Kasidy replied. “I hardly have a monopoly on suffering. I consider myself very blessed. You’ve shouldered your share of struggles.”

“Mine are relatively small,” she said lightly. Since her arrival, Kira had avoided talking about any work-related problems she might be having, focusing instead on Kasidy’s baby, her search for dependable farm help, Jake, and the general political situation. Kas assumed that Kira didn’t want to “needlessly worry the pregnant lady,” a sentiment she’d become intimately familiar with. As the days passed, however, Kasidy began suspecting Kira’s reticence wasn’t solely motivated by benevolence. Perhaps, being immersed in DS9 and Bajor’s needs had acclimated Kira to ignoring her own. And that’s not good,she thought. “It’s my turn to ask an impertinent question, Nerys.”

“Fire away.”

“Are you happy?”

Kira snorted. “Kas—”

“I’m not budging from this spot until you tell me what’s on your mind,” Kasidy said.

Kira inhaled deeply. She toyed with the macramé vest she wore, threading her fingers through the holes. “There’s not a simple answer. I wouldn’t necessarily change my life—” she lifted heavy lidded eyes to Kasidy “—except the Attainder. That I could do without.” The weak smile she offered Kas failed to offset her worry wrinkles.

Kira carries her burdens in her eyes. Shades of Benjamin,Kasidy thought, imagining she could see the mantle of command bestowed upon her friend by her husband. “Talk to me. I’ve been told I’m a good listener—and I know how to keep a secret.”

Considering Kasidy for a long moment, Kira’s brow furrowed. “Where to start? Double-dealing Shakaar, the peace talks mess, the daughter-in-law of the Federation councillor’s suicide—and that’s the appetizer. Believe me, Kas, you don’t want to hear about this.”

“Yes I do,” Kasidy insisted. “You’ve done a great job catching me up on all the station gossip, though I’m still not sure what to make of Lieutenant Ro, um, socializing with Quark. Now I want the rest of it.”

Kira rose from her chair and walked over to turn on the fireplace. Resting her arm against the river rocks, she stared into the flames. “You know I even tried knitting? And I found it incredibly frustrating. I followed the instructions from the database to the letter and no matter how meticulously I worked, I managed to drop stitches or purl when I was supposed to knit. When the yarn became all tangled up and knotted, I figured, the hell with this! And that’s how I feel things are at the station right now—just like my knitting.” She ran her hand along the mantel’s smoothly carved curves and curlicues, pausing to pick up the amber-gold figurine given to Kasidy by Prylar Eivos. “I do the best that I know how to do and where has that gotten us? Promenade fights, vandalism, threats against the Cardassian delegation. I hate saying it, but I almost miss the war. At least then we knew who we were fighting and what we were fighting for.”

“Nerys, I’m no expert on commanding a—” The door chime rang. Oh, who could that be?Kasidy thought irritably. In her early days here, well-meaning Bajorans seeking to “help” the Emissary’s wife stopped by, uninvited, as if she were building a shrine, not a house. Gradually, as all parties came to an understanding she’d stopped being a curiosity to the locals. Now her neighbors vigorously protected her privacy, refusing to dole out the smallest tidbit to strangers seeking her, even those on religious pilgrimages. I hope there’s not an emergency. Wouldn’t they call first?Kasidy scooted to the edge of the couch, psyching herself up for whoever might be visiting.

“I’ll get it,” Kira said. She set the figurine down on the coffee table and vanished into the foyer.

“I’m not an invalid,” Kasidy muttered, pushing up onto her feet and following after Kira. The baby snuggled into her ribs; she paused to push gently on the head, trying to dislodge it. No luck. She heard the beeps of Kira tapping in the lock release.

“You?” came her visitor’s shocked exclamation.

“Not who you were expecting, Vedek Yevir?” Kira said.

Inwardly, Kasidy groaned, wishing she could become invisible; Yevir was about as welcome as a malfunctioning phaser in the middle of a firefight. While she found most Bajoran clerics to be pleasant (being the Emissary’s wife meant they were on their best behavior around her), Yevir was the exception. Kasidy couldn’t stomach his sanctimoniousness, how he wrapped his unapologetic quest to be kai in a cloak of piety. He’d shown his true character when he slapped the Attainder on Kira; Kasidy wasn’t prepared to forgive him for what she believed to be a vindictive, politically motivated punishment. That Bajor would be better off with Yevir as kai than they were with Winn was doubtful to Kasidy’s way of thinking. For a moment, Kasidy considered turning back around and hiding in the sitting room. Kira would get rid of him.

…But how fair was that to Kira.

Kasidy turned the corner and saw Kira had blocked the doorway, arms linked across her chest. From her posture, Kasidy surmised it would take a Klingon with a bat’lethto pass into the vestibule.

“With all due respect, Vedek, why not go back to town and call back in the morning? Make an appointmentwith Captain Yates,” Kira said coldly.

Peering at the vedek from behind Kira, Kasidy said, “So you were in the neighborhood and thought you’d stop by for a visit?”

Her tone provoked a deep pink flush in Yevir’s cheeks. His eyes fixed on Kasidy. “I know I’ve come without an invitation, Captain Yates, but my business is urgent. I’ve come to believe Bajor’s spiritual health is at stake.”

Kira was impressed. To Kasidy, she said, “I’ll take care of this.” And to Yevir, “Take it up with the Vedek Assembly.”

Kasidy stopped her. “I’m not the Emissary, Vedek. Even though it seems I keep having to remind people—”

“Please,” Yevir said. “Captain, I need—I assure you the situation is quite dire.” Yevir took a step toward Kasidy. Kira glared at him and he promptly stepped back.

Still the master of overstatement,Kas thought, and still unable to take a hint.“I’m sorry, but we were in the middle of something and—”

“A moment of your time—that’s all I ask. I beg of you.” The look in his eyes was imploring.

Suspecting he might be prostrate on the porch at any moment, Kasidy wondered what to do next. If she shut the door on him he’d probably still be around at dawn. Kasidy sighed. I can’t put Nerys through that.To Kira she said, “Why don’t you start walking without me? I’ll catch up with you after the Vedek leaves.” Please Nerys, take the hint,she wished fervently.

Puzzled, Kira looked over her shoulder at Kasidy, raising a questioning eyebrow. Kasidy shrugged as if to say, Let’s just get this over with.

Kira stepped aside, gesturing for Yevir to enter.

When he made a visible point of squeezing through the door frame rather than touch Kira, Kasidy began to wonder if she’d regret her invitation. She indicated she wanted Yevir to follow her to the sitting room where she and Kira had been only minutes before. Kasidy felt Kira’s eyes trained on their backs as she waited for Yevir to misstep.

If Kira’s scrutiny bothered Yevir, he didn’t show it. Walking behind Kasidy, Yevir’s apologies continued until they were both seated. Once Kasidy heard the door close—with Kira on the outside—she felt reassured that her friend would be spared any further indignities.

Dealing with Yevir should be easy in comparison to some of the tight spots she’d had to negotiate her way out of over the years. She recalled arguing with a Nausicaan who insisted Kasidy had picked up the wrong cargo. Hewas difficult; Yevir was merely bothersome.

Since Yevir had been the one to request speaking with her, Kasidy expected him to initiate the discussion. She would nod her head politely in response, tell him there was nothing she could do and send him on his way. Folding her hands in her lap, Kasidy waited.

Yevir sat perched on the edge of the chair, blinking nervously, saying nothing, unwilling or unable to meet her eyes. Uncomfortable silence followed.

At last Kasidy said, “Please get on with your business, Vedek.”

He cleared his throat, shifting a few times, and licked his lips. “The present state of affairs troubles me,” Yevir stammered. “I believe recent events bode ill for Bajor.”

“I’m not in a position to do anything about the state of Bajor, Vedek,” Kasidy said pragmatically.

“But Ishould be!” He stood up, pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, his robes swishing as he walked. “I was chosen by the Emissary to be a spiritual leader among my people. As such, I should know how best to guide them. But for the first time since Captain Sisko set me on my present course, the way is dark to me.”

Kasidy shook her head. This was a mistake…“If you’re truly concerned for Bajor, Vedek, you need to have this conversation with someone else. Somebody in the Vedek Assembly, the Chamber of Ministers…”

“I’m not sure I know what to say to any of them. What I do know is my people have reached a crossroad on the path of the Prophets, with no arrow to point us toward the true way. They’re in danger of becoming lost, and I must learn what I need to do to help make things right.”

“If you want to make things right, start by rescinding Kira’s Attainder,” Kasidy said tightly.

Yevir frowned and looked away. “The Colonel’s standing within our faith is unrelated to this issue.”

“If you want to have this conversation with me, in my house, it’s not.”

Yevir was silent a moment. “I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I know you have a close relationship with the Colonel. And in a way, Kira’s situation is part of the crisis in which my people now find themselves.”

Concerned by where Yevir might be headed with this, Kasidy said, “Go on.” Give me one more reason, Yevir, and I’m tossing you out on your ass. See how good that looks on your application for kai.

“As I said, from the start, I’ve tried to follow the way your husband laid out for me. Or, more accurately, what I believed that way to be. I sought to destroy Ohalu’s book because I truly believed that was best for Bajor. But now…now I’m not so sure…” He fell back into his chair, folding his hands tightly before him as he concentrated on what he needed to say. “The greatest moment of clarity in my life came when I spoke with the Emissary. I knew in that timeless instant he was setting me on the path I was always destined to walk, and that it would lead me to become kai.”

“You sound almost as if you don’t believe that anymore.”

“I don’t know what to believe,” Yevir said softly, in tones that convinced Kasidy the admission was painful for him to make. “Nothing is unfolding in a manner I understand. The Ohalu text, the sundering of the faithful, the failure of the peace talks with Cardassia.…So much is happening that threatens Bajor’s spiritual well-being, I no longer feel I understand the role the Emissary chose me for.

“I came here tonight—to you—hoping that whatever illumination filled him might have touched you and that you might…” His voice trailed off into silence. Finally he shrugged and said quietly, “I felt compelled to come.rdquo;

Kasidy probed his face, searching for insincerity, and found confusion; Yevir appeared truly flummoxed. Not for the first time, Kasidy wished being the wife of the Emissary came with a handbook. “I wish I knew what Ben would have told you if he were here.”

Closing his eyes tight, Yevir slowly shook his head. “I understand. I apologize for disturbing you. Forgive me.” In a paternal gesture, he lifted her hand off the armrest and pressed it between his own. “Thank you for your time, Captain Yates. I’ll let myself out.” He backed away, bowing—and froze, eyes fixed.

Kasidy scanned herself, the floor, the furniture, for a clue as to what had transfixed Yevir. “What is it?” she said, worried.

Still staring, he appeared not to hear her.

She followed his eyes to the figurine Kira had placed on the coffee table before answering the door. Amber and gold, the flecks inside caught the firelight and shimmered with otherworldly radiance.

“What isthat?” he whispered.

“It’s from B’hala. Unearthed during the excavation,” Kasidy explained. Jevonite,Eivos had said it was made of. Have I missed something?

Hesitantly, Yevir reached toward the figurine, his trembling hand hovering. He looked at Kasidy. “May I?”

“Go ahead.”

Yevir scooped up the figurine, holding it in his palm, slowly turning it over and over. “I don’t have the right to ask, but—” He raised his eyes, wide with childlike wonder.

“Take it. Please,” Kasidy said. “If it has some significance to you, then by all means, it’s yours.”

He clutched the figurine tightly in his hand. “Thank you.” His head dipped in a respectful nod. “Thank you truly, Captain.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Kasidy protested, rising.

“I believe the Prophets led me here for a reason. I don’t know exactly what it is yet, but this—” He held up the hand closed around the figurine. “—I think this may be the arrow I’ve been searching for.”

Puzzling over his effusiveness, Kasidy walked him to the door. He believes he found what he came for,she thought as she waved good-bye. And knowing where you’re supposed to go can make all the difference.She watched Yevir until he disappeared around a bend in the road. I hope that soon the same can be said for Kira.

Kira slammed her heels into the dirt with each brisk step, grimacing at the thought of that—that—of Kas having to deal with that man! Yevir wasn’t Kas’s problem, he was hers. Disgusted, she spat. I know how to take a hint from the universe.

Yevir showing up as she was attempting to untangle her snarled life had to be a sign that she wasn’t meant to understand “why.” Why Thriss took her life only two days before Shar’s message arrived from the Gamma Quadrant. Or why some bastard felt the need to make an example out of Ziyal—yet again. And her favorite “what-the-hell-is-he-thinking” question mark, Shakaar. Sure, she had her quarrels with him on an interpersonal level. He might use their past together as leverage over her politically, but she had trusted his leadership skills. So what happened to cause Shakaar to suddenly come down with a case of blindness equal to or surpassing Yevir’s? Bajor was being led on both the secular and religious fronts by blind men. And who was she to even presume she was better than them? Nothing she was doing seemed to be working out either. To expect guidance or answers when her whole world might be walking into darkness was pretty selfish of her. She needed to let go and trust that the Prophets had a plan. Surely they wouldn’t let Bajor fail because of the stupidity of her servants. Damn!She kicked at the dirt, sending rocks skittering. Following the gentle slope down to the riverbank, her walk gathered speed, gradually becoming a full run.

The moon’s wan face rippled silver on the water’s surface, its pale illumination providing enough light to see by. A chilly breeze blew off the river, rattling the dry leaves clinging to the trees and numbing Kira’s ears. Breathing deeply burned her lungs but she pressed on, picking her way around the clumps of river grass. She relished pushing her body until her sides ached, being driven by instinct instead of rational thought.

How long had it been since she let go? Keeping a tight reign on her emotions was part of her duty. When everyone around her completely unspooled, Kira remained in control. Take away her beloved captain. Take away her love. Take away her right to publicly practice her religion. Throw disillusionment, confusion and frustration at her and she’d bat them away, one, two, three. Nothing to it, because that’s who she was. But now the rules of the game were changing yet again, and she began to doubt her ability to keep up.

Kira followed the path away from the river into the forest where gnarled, knotted trees cloaked her in shadow. She continued running. With each step, she gagged on the pungent smoke-tinged wind blowing over from the adjoining farm. She pushed through anyway.

I’ll keep going as long as my body has breath, if that’s what the Prophets want from me,she vowed. If she had to pinpoint what intimidated her most about the road ahead, it was the sense that she was headed straight for a cliff with only the hope that there was some good to be achieved by her jumping.

Leaping over roots, she followed the twisting path, her view of the trail ahead obscured by tree trunks and waist-high bushes, bobbing and swaying. Her blood hammered in her throat and in her ears as her feet pounded the ground, until her boot hit something hard and she slammed into the path, knees first, then her chest, knocking the wind out of her. The stinging scrapes shocked her and she rolled over, tasting peaty dirt mingling with blood, leaves clinging to her clothes. A cry welled up in her throat but refused release.

Flat on her back, Kira looked up through knobby, stripped branches at the starless sky, feeling sharp waves of pain stabbing through her knees. She clenched her teeth, focused intently on controlling her breathing.

She lay on her back, listening to the murmuring wind, the occasional crack of a breaking branch, the swish of bird wings. Staring at the sky, she pretended the wormhole was fixed above her position, promising herself that if she could see the flash of it opening…

She waited. She waited until damp numbness overtook her limbs and still, nothing. I don’t know what I was expecting. I should just go back. Kas will be worried.She sighed. Kira might have witnessed her share of miracles—and had exquisite spiritual experiences in her lifetime—but she wasn’t foolish enough to believe that the Prophets gave you a sign simply because you asked for one.

Grunting, she eased herself up so she was sitting with her legs stretched out in front of her. Luckily, it didn’t feel like she’d sprained or broken anything, though she could feel small rocks embedded in the skin of her kneecaps.

She brushed herself off and then, placing the heels of her hands behind her, she pushed off, succeeding only in dislodging a stone she’d braced herself against. Let’s see if I can do this without cracking my tailbone, too,she thought ruefully. But then her fingers brushed against the stone again, piquing her curiosity. This isn’t a rock.Yanking it free from where it was wedged under an exposed root, Kira held it out in front of her, hoping a beam of light breaking through the forest’s canopy would help her better see what she held.

She thought her eyes must be playing tricks on her.

Her hands began furiously brushing off the dirt encrusting the object. Muddy, frayed, and lost here among the trees of Captain Sisko’s land since when, she couldn’t say. But there was no denying what she held in her hand.

A baseball.

Stitching unraveling, leather stained and pocked, and so waterlogged it was unusable—but none of it changed the fact that Kira held one of the Emissary’s baseballs. Her mind raced. Kas had told her he used to bat them out here to clear his head, but—

Slowly, Kira smiled. Then the laughter came, softly at first, but gathering strength until it engulfed her.

Knowing Kasidy would be waiting, Kira returned to the path and pointed herself toward home.

  MISSION: GAMMA CONTINUES IN

BOOK THREE

CATHEDRAL