*     *     *     *

ACT V

(KIRA's quarters. REOH is lying on the bed while KIRA and BASHIR watch over her. She does not look well.)

BASHIR: Garak is investigating. I'm sure he'll get to the bottom of the plot, whatever it is. He's very thorough.

KIRA: Cardassians tend to be.

BASHIR: You and Chaulid will have your wedding after all.

REOH: It's over for me. I'm never coming back. I don't want to. But if you can save Tl'Oane...

KIRA: Don't talk like that. You're stronger than you think.

BASHIR: Your body is holding its own against the strain. If we can just eliminate the source--

REOH: How is my brother?

BASHIR: Sisko tells me Tl'Oane still isn't well enough to get around, but he's recovering. I still think it would be dangerous for you to see him. But de did ask me to tell you that he's sorry for how he acted and that he believes you are innocent. (REOH sighs. BASHIR's badge beeps)

DAX: Dax to Bashir.

BASHIR: Go ahead.

DAX: Garak wants to see you on the Promenade right away.

BASHIR: I'll be right there. (To REOH) Don't give up. We all believe in you. (Exits)

REOH: I won't be here when he comes back.

KIRA: Yes you will. You know this shame doesn't belong to you. You're going to fight it off until it leaves your body alone.

REOH: I can't. It may not belong to me, but I must bear it, and I can only bear it by dying.

KIRA: No. It's enough. For centuries women on your world have been dying so that your men can maintain their ridiculous codes and standards. If you really want to change things for the women who come after you, fight this thing off. Prove that shame isn't a fate worse than death.

REOH: I'll try. (KIRA takes her hand)

KIRA: I'll help.

(The Promenade. GARAK sits in an alcove on the upper deck, composing on a PADD)

GARAK: Shall I compare thee to Enabrin Tain?
              Thou art more lovely, and more temperate...
 (Shakes his head, deletes, tries again)
               My lover's eyes are nothing like the sun,
               Except for being round, and sometimes red;
               If snow be white, why then, his cheeks are dun--
(Deletes quickly; tries again)
              One look at that cute ass o' ya,
               And I forget Cardassia--
(Throws the PADD over his shoulder) No, no no no no no. He'll just have to do without the serenades under his window. I have tried. Nothing rhymes with "Julian," except for "hooligan," and that's not even a true rhyme. The only rhyme I can find for "doctor" is "proctor." I don't want a proctor in my love poetry. Nothing rhymes with "sickbay," either, or "Obsidian." Plus, the word "prick" keeps finding its way into the most inappropriate places. No, Cardassia is not a rhyming planet. (BASHIR appears)

GARAK: Why Doctor! How nice of you to drop by. Are you planning to stay long?

BASHIR: Till you get tired of me.

GARAK: Stay till then and you'll never see sickbay again.

BASHIR: In that case I'd better escape now. (Pretends to get up; GARAK takes his hands. Making clearly ineffectual efforts to escape) Too late! I'm caught in his powerful tractor beam! (GARAK laughs) Maybe if I just send out a compressed tachyon pulse I can break free! (Pause) Alas. I am trapped. (Sits down.) But seriously, Garak, have you made any progress?

GARAK: Have I made any progress. Who do you think you're dealing with?

BASHIR: I never know with you.

GARAK: Oh come now, Doctor.

BASHIR: (aghast, looking around at the other people) Now? Here? Are you mad?

GARAK: (laughing) Not only have I uncovered every aspect of this diabolical plot, not only have I obtained conclusive proof that your sister was never in that bar and that Chaulid was watching a Cardassian agent and a dabo girl who was hired as a Reoh look-alike, not only have I obtained a confession from him stating that D'Jonn was in on the whole thing from the beginning, but I have avenged myself on one of the most pusillanimous little toads the Obsidian Order ever produced.

BASHIR: Garak! Is this true?

GARAK: Yes, Doctor. The Cardassian agent has been brought to confess to Chaulid. Dax and O'Brien are on their way to apprehend D'Jonn. Tl'Oane is organizing a public restoration for Reoh. By tomorrow it will all be put right.

BASHIR: You've done all this...for me.

GARAK: It was nothing.

BASHIR: (overcome) Thank you.

GARAK: And now. As a reward for working so hard to insure a satisfactory result for all concerned, tell me, Doctor, because it's  been bothering me all afternoon--for which of my bad qualities did you first fall in love with me? (BASHIR thinks this over for a moment)

BASHIR: For them all together. (GARAK laughs) Really, Garak, I have so many favorites it's impossible to choose. There's your deviousness, your ruthlessness, your secretive nature, your execrable taste in literature--I could list faults of yours for hours, each more intoxicating than the last. But tell me, for which of my many excellent qualities were you first smitten with love for me?

GARAK: Smitten! An unusually felicitous word choice, Doctor, I do feel exactly as if I'd been hit by a brick. Indeed, I must have sustained some
kind of cranial injury to fall for you, since it goes against every instinct and inclination I've ever cultivated.

BASHIR: Garak, I would not for the world interfere with your cultivation of Cardassian virtues. If Cardassia is your first love, I am bound to love it
too, and I would never dream of corrupting one of its citizens. Farewell. (Rises; Garak detains him; he sits back down)

GARAK: Yes, well, I think you and I had better just forget about the flirtatious banter stage of courtship, we seem to be rather too good at it
for our own comfort.

BASHIR: Agreed.

GARAK: But tell me. How is your sister?

BASHIR: Not well.

GARAK: And how are you?

BASHIR: Not well either. (GARAK puts an arm around him; BASHIR leans on his shoulder)

GARAK: Take heart, love me, and mend. (As things begin to get interesting, BASHIR's badge beeps)

O'BRIEN: O'Brien to Bashir.

BASHIR: What is it, Chief?

O'BRIEN: We can't locate D'Jonn. The computer says he's not on the station but no one's transported out or taken a ship since the wedding.

BASHIR: The computer's wrong. Phrenellian life signs are very confusing. He's hiding somewhere on the station.

O'BRIEN: All right, Doctor. We'll keep looking. O'Brien out.

GARAK: This is an unfortunate development.

BASHIR: Not necessarily. I'll find him. (Gets up)

GARAK: How?

BASHIR: It shouldn't be hard, I'll just follow the smell. You get in to Reoh and tell her the news; that'll give her the strength to continue. I'll
be there as soon as I can. (Runs off toward the turbolift)

(GARAK enters KIRA's quarters. He is surprised to find REOH sitting up and playing some kind of Bajoran board game with KIRA.)

GARAK: Goodness. You look well.

REOH: I feel much better, thanks to Nerys.

GARAK: Well, then, I suppose it won't matter so much that we've found the people who framed you and we have enough evidence to clear your name. (REOH, crazed with joy, leaps up and hugs GARAK, who is somewhat surprised.  She realizes after a moment that she is embracing a stranger male, and draws back, casting her eyes down again.)

REOH: Nerys, will you speak to him for me?

KIRA: Reoh, do you think this is really necessary? After all you've been through--

REOH: Please. (KIRA growls) Ask him how it was done.

KIRA: She wants to know how it was done.

GARAK: D'JOnn arranged to have a Cardassian and a woman who looked like Reoh together in Quark's at the time he and Chaulid were passing. Chaulid thought the other woman was Reoh.

REOH: Ask him if Chaulid still believes me to be guilty.

KIRA: She wants to know if that blockhead she's engaged to still doesn't have the sense the Prophets gave a yamuck stalk.

GARAK: Chaulid knows Reoh's innocent and feels like the fool he is. He has promised to marry Reoh again if she still wants him.

REOH: Tell him I have to think about it.

KIRA: She says tell him she's not sure yet whether she's learned anything from this experience.

GARAK: Yes, I'll pass that right along. Stay well, this will all be over soon. (He exits. Outside, we see GARAK think for a moment, then run over to a computer terminal and start looking things up)

(We now move to a corridor leading to one of the launching pads. A muffled figure barrels down it at high speed, clutching a satchel and hiding his face with a hood. He presses the pad to open the airlock; it doesn't. He produces one of those lock-blowing gadgets, applies it to the airlock, and is in the process of blowing it when BASHIR appears behind him, pointing a phaser at his head.)

BASHIR: Step away from the airlock. (D'JONN does.) Bashir to O'Brien. I've got him.

O'BRIEN: Where are you?

BASHIR: The airlock leading to launching pad C. (D'JONN moves) Stay where you are!

D'JONN: Or what? You'll fire? You need me alive for the restoration ceremony if you want to save Reoh. (O'BRIEN, DAX and SISKO appear behind him, phasers aimed. At this moment the airlock blows. During the momentary distraction D'JONN grabs BASHIR and his phaser, puts it to BASHIR's head, and back up toward the now-open airlock dragging BASHIR with him as a hostage) Follow me and he's a dead doctor. (As he approaches the airlock, GARAK steps through from the other side, gets an arm around D'JONN's neck and seizes the phaser with the other, and slams him into the side of the passage, putting the phaser to his head)

GARAK: You really shouldn't have done that, D'Jonn. Now you've made me angry. (Several yellowshirts arrive and take custody of D'JONN, marching him down the corridor. The others move off toward the Promenade)

SISKO: Congratulations, Garak, It seems you're one step ahead of us.

GARAK: On the contrary, I was merely acting on a hint tipped to me by the good doctor.

BASHIR: Me?

GARAK: Lately I've become interested in medicine, and I've been reading up on your reports from the Phrenellian study.

BASHIR: So you knew about the odor.

GARAK: Yes. When it's severe enough, concealed guilt manifests itself in Phrenellian males as a topical skin inflammation that emits a noxious odor. D'Jonn's managed to mask it so far, but I reasoned that with murder and treason eating at him, he must be getting a little whiffy. I accessed the station logs to find out if there were any complaints about a stench and discovered that this morning before the wedding one of the maintenance crews for the Rio Grande reported a mysterious rank smell in the cockpit. So I knew he'd come down here to plan his escape.

SISKO: I'm surprised to see you taking such an active interest in all this, Garak. What exactly have you got at stake here? (DAX and O'BRIEN look at  BASHIR)

GARAK: When the fortunes of Cardassia are involved I'm always interested, Commander. I have no wish to see Cardassia try to bring Phrenellia into the Empire. The last attempt was an unrelieved disaster.

SISKO: And I'm sure that was your only motivation.

GARAK: Naturally. I may be only a simple tailor, but I do love my homeworld.

SISKO: Well, I'll see you all tomorrow at the restoration ceremony. (He, Dax, and O'Brien all move off in various directions, leaving BASHIR and
GARAK staring at each other in the middle of the deserted Promenade)

BASHIR: Well. Garak.

GARAK: Well. Doctor.

BASHIR: You've had a long day.

GARAK: Yes, I have, but strangely enough, I'm not the least bit tired.

BASHIR: Really.

GARAK: Indeed.

BASHIR: So what have you got planned for the rest of the evening?

GARAK: Goodness, I don't know. I'll have to check my calendar. (Reaches into his pocket) Do you know, Doctor, I've just remembered--I left it back in my quarters.

BASHIR: Why don't I go with you. That way we can look at it together. (GARAK smiles) Well, somebody's got to keep you honest.

GARAK: And you're just the man for the job.

BASHIR: Exactly. (They walk off together.)

(The next morning. OPHIDIA, carrying a stringed instrument, a traveling bag and some sheet music, approaches DAX's quarters and knocks.)

OPHIDIA: You ready, Dax?

DAX: Just a minute. (Door opens and she emerges with a PADD and a mug) Quark's has the best coffee, but it's still closed for interrogation. How do you feel about the replicators on the Promenade?

OPHIDIA: Sounds like a plan. (They proceed down the corridors)

DAX: So how'd your gig go at the Songfest?

OPHIDIA: The audience seemed to be enjoying themselves, although I'm not sure they were paying much attention. Is it normal for everyone to be groping each other during--

DAX: Oh yes. But that doesn't mean they weren't listening. In fact, if most of your audience was making out, that's a very good sign.

OPHIDIA: Well, I must have gone over all right, then. I'm sorry I missed all the excitement at the wedding, though. I got back just after it was all
over.

DAX: Don't be sorry. It was awful. I've never seen anyone so--(breaks off in mid-sentence. OPHIDIA follows her sight line and spots BASHIR emerging from GARAK's quarters. He has a serious case of bedhead and is hastily donning the shirt of his wedding suit, attempting simultaneously, with limited success, to put on the jacket.)

BASHIR: (to GARAK, who we are to understand is still concealed within the room) No, really, I absolutely have to go this instant. I'm in the ceremony. (Inaudible reply from GARAK) Now look. I'm not falling for that again. Last time you said "one more minute," and that was half an hour ag--(another unintelligible response. Cracking a smile) Yes, I did, but that's not the point. I'm late as it is--(reacting to the still-invisible Garak) Oh,
please don't do that. You know I can't resist--(making a final effort) Look. I really do have to--(from inside we hear GARAK laughing. BASHIR's
resolve weakens, then evaporates. Removing his jacket, he reenters the room precipitately and the doors close. Camera returns to DAX, who has been watching, agog)

DAX: I've seen it...but I'm not sure I believe it.

OPHIDIA: C'mon, Dax, let's go get you a nice soothing cup of coffee. (Leads the still-in-shock Dax down the corridor) You didn't really think it would work this well, did you?

DAX: This is going to take some getting used to.

(The same room in which the wedding was held, with the same crowd. The altar is there, but not decorated. CHAULID, dressed in gray, kneels on one side with his head bowed. SISKO, O'BRIEN, KIRA and ODO sit together in the audience.)

SISKO: Odo! Are you starting to take an interest in humanoid romance after all?

ODO: I don't particularly care about the lovers, Commander. I'm here to take down the confessions for my files.

KIRA: I'm glad you're feeling better, Odo.

ODO: You're not the only one.

KIRA: How'd you get over it?

ODO: I spent the night as an Andorian condor. Very refreshing. (DAX enters with OPHIDIA. They sit with the others)

DAX: Well, at least you'll get to see the second wedding.

KIRA: I can't believe she's still marrying him.

OPHIDIA: Well, you can't expect the revolution to happen overnight. (GARAK, looking happy but extremely tired, enters and sits by SISKO.)

SISKO: Good morning, Mr. Garak. Sleep well?

GARAK: Good morning, Commander. Might I have a word? (Draws him to one side)

O'BRIEN: You owe me a Tanarian Sunrise, Dax.

DAX: We don't know for sure that he's planning--

SISKO: Of course it's still valid if you're both males. This isn't the twentieth century, Garak.

O'BRIEN: I smell a proposal in the wind.

DAX: You don't get a drop until I see the wedding certificate, Chief.

OPHIDIA: They certainly move fast. Are there any other developments in this saga I should know about?

DAX: Look at this. (Hands her a PADD. As she reads it, the procession enters. JILIAM and D'JONN, stripped to the waist with their hands bound in front of them, are marched forward by BASHIR and Tl'OANE, respectively. The PRIEST, dressed in black and carrying a pot of ashes, follows them, leading REOH, who is completely obscured by a floor-length black veil. REOH stands on one side of the altar. TL'OANE and BASHIR force the other two to kneel facing the altar as the PRIEST walks around behind it. They then withdraw to stand in front of REOH.)

PRIEST: Who calls these men false?

TL'OANE: I do.

BASHIR: And I. (The PRIEST scatters ashes on the heads of JILIAM and D'JONN.)

PRIEST: Whose house have their words blackened?

TL'OANE: My house.

BASHIR: And mine.

PRIEST: What do you seek from them?

TL'OANE: Confession.

BASHIR: Retraction.

TL'OANE: Restoration.

PRIEST: Jiliam the stranger, stand forth. (JILIAM gets up) Confess the harm that you have done. (JILIAM looks around, hesitating. He spots OPHIDIA in the audience, who smiles and waves a PADD at him cheerfully. He gulps and turns back to the PRIEST)

JILIAM: I deceived the sight of Chaulid of Garano by causing a woman to counterfeit his intended bride's appearance and to couple with me in a place where I knew he would see us.

PRIEST: Confess the harm that you intended.

JILIAM: To cause the sister of Tl'Oane to be shamed at her wedding, with the result that Tl'Oane of Missna would withdraw from political life, making it possible for D'Jonn to ascend and, in return for my assistance, allow Cardassia to advance its interests on Phrenellia. (There is an outcry from the Phrenellian spectators and several attempt to rush D'JONN, but are restrained by security guards.)

PRIEST: D'Jonn of Garano, stand forth. (D'JONN is hauled to his feet by TL'OANE) Confess the harm that you have done. (He is silent. PRIEST strikes him) Confess the harm that you have done. (CHAULID rises)

CHAULID: I answer for him. He led me to believe that my bride was false to me when she was not. He brought me to see the stranger and a woman counterfeit my bride's treason. At the wedding he denounced her, speaking what he knew to be lies.

PRIEST: Confess the harm that you intended.

CHAULID: To ruin my marriage, to destroy the house of Missna, and to further his own political ambitions.

PRIEST: Retract the words that caused this harm.

JILIAM and CHAULID: Let what I have spoken be forgotten. Let my words be blotted from the heavens' record. What I said in this place was untrue. Let it blacken only my own name.

PRIEST: So be it. The honor of the woman you slandered has been restored, with all her house. Let the wounds you inflicted be felt in your own hearts and bodies ten times over. You are cast out of the Phrenellian houses. Leave this place, for it is sacred. (Two Phrenellians attendants haul JILIAM and D'JONN up the aisle and out of the room, as the Phrenellian contingent hurls insults and objects at them.) Bring forth the woman to be restored. (TL'OANE leads REOH to the altar) Your chastity, your name and your sex are restored to you. Live a clean woman. (He removes her veil. KIRA groans.) Whose house gives up this woman?

TL'OANE: Mine does.

BASHIR: And mine.

PRIEST: Whose house receives her?

TL'OANE: Chaulid of Garano's.

PRIEST: Do you, Chaulid of Garano, take this woman into your house.

CHAULID: If she will enter it, she is welcome.

PRIEST: Reoh, sister of Tl'Oane of Missna, will you enter his house?

REOH: I will.

PRIEST: You are one. May the winds bless you. (They kiss. There is much rejoicing. Tl'OANE and CHAULID embrace. The PRIEST leads the way up the aisle, followed by the married couple, then by Tl'Oane. They exit. The crowd begins to break up. BASHIR moves off to be congratulated by some of the sickbay staff, who are sitting in a different section from the other officers. GARAK runs down to the altar)

GARAK: Ah, Commander...before you all leave...(SISKO and the other officers turn around)

SISKO: Yes, Mr. Garak?

GARAK: Commander, as we discussed, I require your assistance in--wait a minute, where's Julian? (Uproarious laughter from the officers. BASHIR advances.

BASHIR: I answer to that name. What can I do for you?

GARAK: Well--(notices the officers waiting expectantly.) Doctor, do you not love me?

BASHIR: (Coyly) Why no, not really.

GARAK: Well, then, Sisko and O'Brien are laboring under a grievous misapprehension; they said you did.

SISKO: (to himself) Oh dear.

O'BRIEN: Oops.

BASHIR: No, it's you who love me, if I'm not mistaken.

GARAK: Ha! God no, not really.

BASHIR: It would appear in that case that Kira and Dax are sadly mistaken, since they swore you did. (He glares at KIRA; she glares at DAX, who shrugs)

GARAK: They told me you were sick with love for me!

BASHIR: They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me!

GARAK: They lied profusely! (Both of them are beginning to feel the emotional impact of this revelation) Then--you do not love me?

BASHIR: Why--no--no more than as a friend. (They stare at each other in great perplexity and unhappiness. Cut to OPHIDIA)

OPHIDIA: If Paramount thinks they're getting off the hook this way, they've got another think coming. (Advances to the altar, waving a PADD) Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to share with you a little something Dax pulled off rec.alt.cardiefanciers this morning. It's a composition in verse entitled "Ode to a Scrumptious Tailor" and it begins--

BASHIR: GIVE ME THAT!! (Before he can grab it GARAK plucks it from her hands and holds it out of BASHIR's reach, taunting him as he lunges for it. O'BRIEN meanwhile abstracts a PADD from GARAK's pocket)

O'BRIEN: And what have we here? It seems to be partially in free verse, but...yes! I do detect a bit of a rhyme scheme, and it's definitely metric!
It is indubitably a poem! And it's called...let's see...it's called, "O Doctor, My Doctor."

GARAK: NOOOOOOO!!

O'BRIEN: (reading) "O Doctor, my Doctor, won't you palpate my--" (GARAK makes a grab for it; BASHIR nabs it instead. They fall to reading their
respective tributes)

OPHIDIA: Gentlemen, poetry doesn't lie. Man has no greater love than that he will wrestle with rhyme for his friend. (GARAK and BASHIR are comparing notes and complimenting each other on particular passages)

GARAK: Alas. Written evidence on both sides. It seems they've got us dead to rights. Well...come on, Doctor. (Tucks PADD into his vest) I will marry you after all, though I swear to you it's only out of pity.

BASHIR: (Stashing his PADD) All right, Garak, but you're just lucky I'm a doctor, because I'm only doing it to save your life. (They kiss. Much
rejoicing.)

ODO: I must say I never thought I would live to see you settle down here, Garak. What if you get that communique from Central Command that you've been waiting for all this time?

GARAK: I'll tell  you what, Odo, if Enabrin Tain came back from the dead right now and offered me his job on a platter I wouldn't take it.
(Considers) Well, not unless they could get Julian a job in the central hospital.

BASHIR: If you think I'm moving to Cardassia for you--

GARAK: Don't worry Doctor. (Dead serious) They'll never ask me back. And I'll never go. My home is where you are. (Kiss. Rejoicing.)

BASHIR: Let's get this wedding on the move. Sisko, I take it you're the celebrant. Chief, will you be my best man?

O'BRIEN: I'd be honored. (ODO is escaping up the aisle)

GARAK: Don't go anywhere, Odo, you're the maid of honor. (KIRA runs up and drags him back, protesting all the way. The wedding party sorts itself out. DAX approaches OPHIDIA, who has dropped back)

DAX: Phidder, how about a little processional music?

OPHIDIA: At your service. (Tunes up her instrument. During the first verse the ceremony is conducted, with processional, etc., ODO initially resisting but gradually accepting his role. She sings:)

                Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
                Though Bashir's out of reach forever.
                It's true he'll romp
                With Dax no more,
                Nor Kira and Dukat together.
                Yet sigh not so,
                But let him go,
                And be you blithe and bonny,
                Converting all
                Your sounds of woe
                Into hey, nonny nonny.

(The marriage is completed; everyone congratulates the two of them, including ODO, who, influenced by DAX and KIRA, has gone weepy. 
O'BRIEN, in an expansive moment, crushes BASHIR in a bear hug)

O'BRIEN: Congratulations, Julian. I love you. I really mean that. I'm happy for both of you. Onward to Quark's for the reception! (General shout of
enthusiasm)

ODO: Let me get him out of the brig first. (ODO runs up the aisle, followed by the others, as OPHIDIA sings the next verse)

                Sing no more ditties, sing no more
                Laments so sad and sorry,
                This whole thing is
                Non-canon lore,
                Just one of a thousand stories.
                Then sigh not so,
                But let them go,
                And be you blithe and bossy,
                Converting all
                Your sounds of woe
                Into tales of caramel sauce-y.

(The room is now empty. OPHIDIA bows, winks at the camera, and snaps her fingers. Blackout and credits.)
 

THE END