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I frowned. “But how could it be?”

She chuckled grimly. “I asked the same question. Hel’s Gate is a maelstrom, I said. Why the devil would anyone want to go near the place?”

“And?” I prodded.

“And it’s a maelstrom all right.” Her eyes took on a faraway look. “But it’s also a dimensional wormhole of some kind. And beyond it, on the other side, is Dujonian’s Hoard.”

“You’ve seen it?” I asked.

Red Abby shook her head. “No.” She smiled bravely at me. “I mean not yet. But I will. Bet the farm on it.”

I had to admire her courage if not her grasp of the trouble we were in. But she still hadn’t satisfied my curiosity.

“If you’ve never been there yourself …” I began.

Red Abby spoke softly, so no one else would hear her. “My brother’s been there.”

“Your brother,” I echoed just as softly. “You mean Richard.”

She nodded, a lock of red hair falling across her forehead. “The one in trouble. And the one you’re supposed to rescue, I imagine. Or is it strictly the Hoard you’re interested in?”

I considered how much I ought to tell her. The part about Richard Brant had become obvious. There didn’t seem to be any harm in confirming it.

“Your brother is part of it,” I replied. “At least, to me he is. He was Starfleet, after all.”

Red Abby smiled a grim smile. “But the Hoard is the bigger part. You don’t want it falling into the hands of the Cardassians.”

She had hit the nail on the head, of course. I shrugged noncommittally. “I suppose one could read that into it.”

The woman laughed. It was a good laugh, an open laugh, not the kind I had heard from her before. “Always so circumspect, you Starfleet types.”

“Are we?” I asked.

“Why not come out and say it? You’re here to save my brother from a pack of mercenaries. But unlike me, you’re not doing it out of any real concern for him. You’ve got your own agenda. There’s no shame in that.”

“It’s not that simple,” I told her.

She grunted. “No, it never is.”

Certainly, the woman could be exasperating. “What I mean,” I continued, “is that there is no lack of concern for your brother either on my part or on Starfleet’s. But I would be lying if I said it’s our only concern.”

Red Abby leaned back against the bulkhead. “Honesty,” she said. “I’m impressed. Especially in light of all the lies you told me.”

“Regrettable,” I told her. “But necessary.”

She looked at her hands, as if she’d suddenly found something fascinating about them. “Not bad, actually. I really thought you were some kind of adventurer. When I learned you were a Starfleet officer … a captain, no less … as I say, not bad.”

“People don’t fool you very often,” I observed.

Red Abby turned to me. “No,” she agreed, “they don’t, now that you mention it. You either, I’d guess.”

“Not often,” I conceded. “Though you did.”

“Me?” she said. “How?”

“I thought you were motivated strictly by greed,” I explained. “Now it seems you’re out to save your brother from his abductors.”

“I didn’t make any claims one way or the other,” she reminded me.

“That’s true,” I said. “But you fooled me nonetheless.”

For a moment, we looked at each other not as captain and crewman or as adversaries, but as two people might look at each other. And I found a great deal to like in Abby Brant.

Then she looked away. “What are our chances of getting help from that Starfleet of yours?”

I frowned. “Almost nil. My associate and I were out here very much on our own. Due to the delicate nature of our mission, you understand.”

“I do,” said Red Abby. “I guess his name’s not Mitoc, then?”

I shook my head. “It’s Worf.”

She grunted softly. “You might as well have called him Worf. I wouldn’t have known the difference.”

“At the time,” I said, “I had no way of knowing that.”

Silence again. But this time, she didn’t look at me. In fact, she seemed to be making a point of not looking at me.

“Have I said something to offend you?” I asked.

Finally, Red Abby looked up. “No,” she told me. “You haven’t offended me. But you have managed to”

Just then, I heard the cargo bay’s door iris open. A handful of Cardassian guards