"You are looking for someone?"

"I…" Bashir glanced back at the faces of his companions - suddenly no more certain of how he should answer, and finding nothing helpful in their stares. He reached for the most obvious response, as though searching for a dropped writing stylus with his eyes tightly closed. "Yes."

"Another Human like yourselves. You wish to enter the old hospital."

Although inhumanly thin, he was quick to notice, Naron's elongated form was only marginally taller than his own. The pigmentation of his skin had changed again - this time to a calm, moonlight silver-blue. Had those round, black eyes already noted the hunch of the other man's shoulders, or the soft-voiced gasp that accompanied his words? Or were Humans just as unreadable to the planet's dark-eyed natives?

"I have some influence with Civic Security," he was explaining in a soft, inflectionless voice. "It is my business to notice certain details, which others might prefer to overlook."

The cadence of his speech, the long, measured stare, the utter certainty with which his words were spoken… Naron's voice was noticeably smoother than Odo's gravely tone, but Julian could not escape the reminder of Deep Space Nine's shapeshifting constable.

"A Security officer?" he asked.

"In one sense. Yes."

"He's up to something," Jack hissed in Julian's ear. Patrick nodded in agreement.

"That's right, Jack. We'd better be careful."

"You need not worry," the pale Adigeon assured them all. "I have sworn to hear you what you have to say, without revealing your presence to my superiors. And it is as you have already reminded me. My people keep our promises. Clearly you have succeeded in finding me here, so you must at the very least have already learnt my name. You sought me directly - so I can only assume that there is a purpose to this visit."

A shock ran all the way through the nerves of Julian's body. He blinked, startled, grasping futilely for an answer, and rejecting every possibility as immediately as it came to him.

"Do you believe that finding this one Human will make a difference?"

"It has to." Surprised at the sudden fervour behind his exclamation, Julian paused a moment to calm his agitated nerves and still trembling hands.

"Told you," persisted Jack. "I told you so, didn't I? Can't trust every person that you meet."

Bashir ignored him. "We just need a way through the door. If you don't want us to bother you after today, then I promise you we won't."

Naron's attention flicked momentarily to the two other men. "There is a protocol," he continued unimpeded by the risk of further interruptions. "A code that allows us entry to the higher levels."

"Yes - we know about that."

The dark eyed, impenetrable stare returned immediately to Bashir. The Security officer's colouring had changed again - pale skin now infused with a suggestion of peculiar yellow-green. The colour of surprise? Julian wondered.

"Come with me," said Naron, after a pause. "Just you. Alone."

Julian hesitated.

But Naron remained persistent. "It is a condition of my assisting you in this matter. There are certain points I need to verify - and for that, we must be alone. If it helps, I will make you another promise that there will not be any unsolicited consequences."

What choice did he have? With one tightly clenched hand, Bashir rubbed at the side of his skull, sensing the stares of all his travelling companions. They were waiting - like children at a pantomime. Waiting to see what decision he would make.

He nodded, sighing, aching to the depth of his bones. "Very well."

"Go right ahead," Jack shouted after their retreat from the office's main compartment. "Don't mind us. We'll just sit here and wait."

"Am I correct in assuming that you have visited our world before?"

Bashir opened his mouth, preparing to give the same automatic denial. It had become so instinctive, repeated so often in his head that the course of years had turned secrets to reflexes. Ever since his initial, fateful discovery that there were secrets to keep. His prodigious memory still held to the moment of stomach-clenching shock - and a decision borne of fear, that had left him complicit in his parents' decision.

But these secrets were no longer his to conceal. "Yes," he confessed, a little reluctantly. "A long time ago."

"…Which would explain why you chose to return to this world, in particular." Naron did not elaborate on his reasoning. "But the other Humans - the ones who travel with you. They have not."

Of course, thought Bashir. He wasn't surprised to see us. Naron was Doctor Nikos' Adigeon contact. He had to have been among the first she would have contacted, when he and the other inmates had vanished from the Institute. It was ridiculous, to suppose that their visit would not have been anticipated.

"You were expecting us."

"I was told to wait for your arrival," Naron confirmed. "An unidentified informant."

"But I thought… Wouldn't Doctor Nikos have…?"

"No. She said nothing."

The floor lost a little more of its solidity, and yet, Bashir did not stagger. Not visibly. The information could still have come from another member of the Institute staff, but surely they would have given their names - and the same had to be true of Starfleet. Or at least, any reputable Starfleet officer. Then, who else would be leaving anonymous tips…?

It would have to wait.

"Why did you come here?" Naron continued. "It might have been a lot safer for you to remain with the Federation."

"Safer? Perhaps," Bashir responded. He looked up, struggling to find some appropriate words to voice his conflicted thoughts. "People assume so much about the genetically enhanced. That they… That we are always so antisocial, or dangerous. That we have to be controlled, and that includes not allowing us to make the usual human mistakes. I've never been immune to making a bad decision or two. But coming here, to this planet - this is not one of them. Agreeing to let the others send me to the Institute - that was. One thing's certain. I never belonged there."

"What makes you so sure?"

Bashir's frown turned to one of bewildered perplexity. Was it not obvious?

"I'm not like the others," he insisted, wondering that the other man showed little reaction to the agitation in his voice. But of course, Naron would have no more idea of Human expressions than his visitor could gather of Adigeons'. "They all experienced unintended side effects from their genetic re-sequencing. I…"

He glanced down, clenching and unclenching his hands, watching as they continued their uncontrolled shaking. Slapping one palm against the nearest wall, he eased himself sideways into a corner and wrapped both arms around his chest. His carefully managed control had wavered, even the level ground of Naron's office precariously unsteady. All arguments had vanished into the cool, environmentally regulated air.

Don't let him see. Concentrating on each forward step, trying not to appear off balance, Bashir moved himself closer to Naron's position. "You must know something about the old hospital. Your world was involved for so long in genetic research and manipulation."

"I am not an historian."

"But then, why would anybody from Starfleet Medical have wanted to contact you unless…?"

"The Starfleet woman thought that we might have knowledge of another Human doctor, one who would no longer practise in the Federation, but who had been residing here for quite some time."

Then Athena had not stopped looking after all. Julian's heart beat a little faster. "And, did you?"

"We have not seen any other Humans since those at the old hospital went into hiding."

"Hiding?" demanded Bashir. "There is still something to find on this planet - isn't there?"

"It's possible," responded the Adigeon, limbs shifting fluently as he moved a little towards the narrow chamber's edge. But whatever hope he had imagined in the voice, Bashir was certain was equally attributable to his own desperation as to any degree of truth.

"Listen," he confessed. One more plea was all he had. "This is the last place I would come to if there was any alternative, but I don't have a lot of time. You must understand how urgent this is. If there's even a chance - an old datafile, or somebody in the building who might know more than Starfleet, I… I have to try…" He stopped, hugging his arms and trembling all over. When he spoke, it was so quietly that he could scarcely even conjure a voice.

"I have to try."