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Jekri didn't change her expression, but she was startled. Such a tactic had never occurred to her, but it should have. These Shepherds had managed to so distract her that she was not thinking as clearly as the chairman of the Tal Shiar ought. The revelation was unsettling.

"That is a discussion to be held when we have Telek R'Mor safely in custody," she said properly. "I am not an unfair person. R'Mor will have his Right of Statement, and perhaps he can convince me of his innocence. But for the moment, let us concentrate on his notes."

"Yes, if you don't mind." Lhiau again.

Jekri ignored him. "Can we open the wormholes?"

"Yes," said Verrak. "We can plot and maintain their size as well. The formula is ours."

Jekri straightened and folded her arms across her breasts, thinking. "He knows our tactics," she mused. "He will alert the Federation vessel to mem. By now, they know all our plans."

"Unless he is no-"

"Even if he was abducted against his will, Verrak, he will have told them our plans. His goal in contacting the Federation ship in the first place was to warn them, so they wouldn't pollute the true timeline."

This last, she uttered in a sneering tone. Jekri Kaleh was not one to believe in immutable destinies. Timelines depended on vagaries of fate. And if she could twist fete into the shape she wanted, force it to obey her considerable will, then so much the better. For the Little Dagger, there was no such thing as a "true timeline."

"We must therefore do something that he does not expect Fortunately"-and here she stole a sidelong glance at Lhiau-"I am not in the habit of revealing everything to everyone. Verrak, implement Option Beta." She leaned forward, reading Telek's notes. "It is time to cast the net and catch our elusive fish."

CHAPTER

6

CHAKOTAY COULDN'T SLEEP. HE TRIED READING, PER-forming some gentle stretches, sipping a cup of herbal tea. Nothing worked. His mind was humming along at the speed of the ship, but far less unobtrusively.

He knew he needed sleep. The strain and the dark matter infesting his body were taking a toll. His patience was terribly thin, and his temper short and rough. Sleep would help. That was when the body healed itself, fought the dark-matter interlopers.

Finally, he sighed heavily and rose. "Lights, soft," he told the computer. Obligingly, the lights went on, casting just enough illumination for him to see but not enough to make him wince from the brightness. Padding over to his dresser, he opened a drawer and withdrew his medicine bundle.

For a long moment, he simply held it, feeling its familiar, comforting weight in his hands. Chakotay wondered if he was doing the right thing. Taking a trip to the spirit world in his mind might not be such a good idea. On the other hand, maybe there would be some good advice waiting for him on the other side.

At any rate, it sure beat counting sheep.

The word made him think of the Shepherds, and the Shepherds made him think of dark matter, and thinking of dark matter made anger swell, hot and full, inside his gut. That made his decision for him. He needed some help, and it was time to ask for it

In his eagerness he wanted simply to seize the akoonah and get right to the heart of the thing, as he had done on his first vision quest so many years ago. But the older Chakotay, despite this strange anger and resentment that burned inside him like a stoked fire, knew that the experience would be enriched by the care taken in assembling the implements.

He unfolded the small fur blanket, letting his hands caress the smooth feathers of the blackbird's wing and linger over the carvings etched in the river stone. Chakotay breathed deep and composed himself.

"Akoochimoya. We are far from the sacred places of our grandfathers. We are far from the bones of our people. But perhaps there is one powerful being who will embrace this man and give him the answers he seeks."

He placed his hand on the akoonah