37 ON GARAK
...in the darkness, watching, more confused and curious than afraid. Voices drift to him across the darkness...
38 GARAK’S POV
How would you present yourself?
The shadows and nothingness form into the shapes of people standing or sitting – it is the meeting in the dark room after Garak’s breakdown at the rally. But the room itself has gone – it is just the people in the dark, replaying the last few moments of that conversation, unaware of anyone watching them. Garak, Parmak, Pythas, Dejar and Limor.
How else, Pythas? As a plain
and simple tailor.
Pythas accepts with a sigh. Garak smiles, satisfied with the deal made. Parmak guides Garak to the door...
Come along then, Elim. If you
insist on going to Earth, I’ll
find you some kind of... guide
book or something.
Garak lets himself be guided out, and then he’s gone. But the scene continues. Pythas, Limor and Dejar look among each other, none willing to say what they’re all thinking.
What do we do with him?
He can never come back.
39 ON GARAK
At all. He’s no asset to us now.
...watching, listening, absorbing...
40 GARAK’S POV
The three Cardassians talk in the darkness...
I’ll arrange it.
I want him to live.
I don’t understand.
Let him live, Limor. Just as
long as he never comes back.
How can this be done?
Listen to me, Pythas. Garak has
many enemies. It would be a
simple matter to kill him. To
spare his life is no solution.
Nor is it mercy. His life has
run its course!
Pythas thinks about what Limor has said...
41 ON GARAK
42 GARAK’S POV
Focusing on Pythas, as he ponders. He doesn’t speak out loud, but we HEAR his thoughts, ghostly and indistinct.
He’s right. Elim is exhausted.
He has no more resources to
draw on. His inability to give
the speech shows how depleted
his morale is. Perhaps it would
be a kindness to kill him.
Garak’s focus shifts to Limor, tall and thin and cold.
This is the sentimentality that
Enabran allowed into the Order,
and that nearly destroyed us.
I taught Pythas to be harder.
But the chain of command must
be preserved. So be it.
Finally, Pythas makes his decision.
Arrange it with Mindur Timot so
that Elim goes to the Vinculum
and never returns. Parmak assures
me the controls are easy enough.
Should we worry about Parmak?
He’ll never find out, Dejar. Elim
will disappear, and it will be
revealed that he was assassinated
while trying to make a deal with
the Federation. I don’t think I
have to explain to you how this
will work to our advantage.
I’ll arrange it with Timot.
The scene over, the players fade back into the darkness.
43 ON GARAK
Sad, disappointed that his friends and compatriots could dispose of him so easily. After a moment, gentle light intrudes on the darkness, and Garak looks up to see...
44 GARAK’S POV
A full-length mirror now stands in front of him, revealing Garak’s own image, standing there in old, Hebitian-style dress. He gazes at himself, intrigued...
Reflected in the mirror, Garak sees a door open in the darkness behind him. Bright light and cheerful sounds creep through it. He turns and walks towards the door. But at the threshold, he pauses and looks back over his shoulder...
45 INT. GARAK’S SHACK
...and sees his small shack, the only home he has now. The small cot he sleeps on, the primitive stove he cooks with. No mirror, but an ORALIAN MASK hanging on the wall.
Is this a dream?
Does it matter?
Garak realizes with a start that Palandine sits calmly on his bed, having blended in to the point of invisibility. Now she stands and approaches him in the doorway.
Really, Elim. Does it matter
if this is a dream or reality?
(re the shack)
Because if you want to get out
of here, you’re going to have to
learn to live in both worlds.
She walks past him into the bright light beyond the door, holds out her hand for him to follow. Lost in wonder and confusion, Garak takes her hand, and follows her into the light. But as they walk on, Palandine turns to smile at him, and it’s not Palandine anymore. It’s Nel...
As Nel leads Garak by the hand into the light, shapes form out of it, as if Garak’s eyes are simply getting accustomed to the brightness that Cardassians instinctively dislike. Those shapes gradually resolve into...
46 INT. BANQUET HALL
It’s a party, a pleasant gathering of seemingly hundreds of happy, civilized and friendly people. All Cardassian, but no sign of the militarism or arrogance one would expect from Cardassians. Because these are Hebitians.
Garak looks around at the people mingling and chatting. Flowers bloom, chandeliers glitter, happy voices drift.
Go ahead, Elim. Feel free.
Garak steps into the crowd, tentative at first, not sure he should be here. But he wants to be one of these people. In the distance is a familiar face, laughing with friends.
BASHIR turns, smiles in recognition. Beckons Garak to join him. Elated, Garak wades into the crowd. But the closer he gets, the further away Bashir seems to be...
Elim. I’m so glad you came.
Surprised, Garak turns and sees TOLAN (“A Stitch in Time”), dressed in the robes of an Oralian Guide. Nel stands behind him, observing happily. Garak gapes in amazement.
Father... I’ve missed you.
The room around them changes again, almost imperceptibly. It darkens, the others disappearing, until the three of them are alone, standing in Nel’s basement hideout.
47 INT. STONE ROOM (CONTINUOUS)
The black stone walls shift and blend, shapes shimmering and not quite forming. Garak steps closer, watching the shapes as they begin to coalesce.
They form a procession of figures. It’s the Hebitian frieze that was painted onto the walls of the Oralian temple in “A Stitch in Time,” but the figures are moving.
We slowly ZOOM IN on the animated people, cave drawings of Cardassians, walking one behind another along a path. They all seem comfortable, content, in harmony. They are dressed as farmers, hunters, ironworkers, priests, and so on.
The path loops gently around the walls of the room, until it disappears into the top corner. Garak watches the path re-emerge from the bottom corner, and continue.
If they are able to understand
how connected they are... if
they can accept the connection...
the tribes can come together...
they can celebrate...
Garak watches the procession. The image shifts slightly, a ribbon appearing connected to each figure at the chest. A pinkish thread that leads from their heart up into the sky.
We FOLLOW the pink thread from one Hebitian as it rises up. Slowly, slowly... until the thread reaches its source. A hand-drawn representation of ORALIUS.
A winged figure, almost angelic, as seen on the paintings in the Oralian temple, and on the statue in the ruins at Gardat. The figure has countless similar pinkish threads leading out of its body, connecting to the people below.
We are all connected, Elim. All
of us. Oralius came to teach us
this, help us to understand and
celebrate that connection.
Our focus moves to Oralius itself, wings spread wide. We close in on its semi-Cardassian face, seeming to smile with grace and love. And then we move closer, focusing on the indentation that adorns its forehead, like all Cardassians.
And then the “spoon” shape... blinks. Like an eye.
PULL OUT gradually - we see the indent has indeed become an eye. A large single eye, set into the face of an EAV’OQ.
PULL OUT further - we see the Eav’oq’s body, white and warm, gently soothing, the single eye smiling.
Garak watches all of this, on the verge of understanding. He has never seen an Eav’oq, doesn’t know what one is. He just sees this strange alien figure, hovering peacefully over the Hebitians below. He smiles, comforted.
The Hebitians are now closer to the Eav’oq, gathered around it. The pink ribbons thicken and strengthen, until it becomes clear that they are the Eav’oq figure’s multiple limbs. They curl around the Hebitians, as if hugging them.
And he was right to. Because...
watch, Elim. Watch what happens
when the connection breaks.
The procession of figures continues. But one or two of them stumble, fall to their knees. The happy, peaceful feeling gives way to grey dullness. More Hebitian figures collapse in hunger or fatigue or choking. Garak watches in horror...
New figures arrive, dressed in black, carrying knives and guns. They attack the weakened Hebitians, laugh over their dead bodies. These are Cardassians, dark and ominous.
Above, the Eav’oq still hovers. Its pink ribbons are now snapped, the connections broken, its eye no longer smiling. It draws away, the image diminishing and growing smaller, pulling back until it is a mere dot... and then gone.
No... come back... please...
He will, Elim. Oralius... is of
Cardassia. You are of Cardassia.
You are the Hand of the Fates.
Bring Oralius back to them.
Garak turns away, tears in his eyes...
48 INT. GARAK’S SHACK
...and finds himself back in the shack. Tolan is with him, as he was in “A Stitch in Time,” showing him his gardening tools. Outside, it’s normal daylight, before the Dominion. Inside, it’s a boy and his father.
Are you still working with the
Not for a long time.
Cultivate what’s left. And teach
someone else the method.
Tolan smiles up at the wall, where the Oralian mask hangs.
You still have the mask! Wear
it next time you speak, Elim.
It will help to remind them.
Tolan stands directly in front of Garak, reaches out gently and touches his son’s forehead, right on the spoon shape. Then the older man FADES from view, until he’s gone.
Garak looks at the Oralian mask. It begins to GLOW with a warm, gentle white light. The mask seems to move, smile. Pink ribbons stretch out from all sides of it, reaching to make a connection. The light grows and grows until...
Then FADE IN
...Looking into camera, concerned and nervous.
50 INT. PARMAK’S HOME
Elim? Can you hear me?
Garak lies on a thin, rattling pallet in a small and ordinary room – nicer than Garak’s shack, but not by much. He opens his eyes hesitantly, as if recovering from a hangover or psychedelic experience.
Yes, Doctor. No need to shout.
Where am I?
An old family home. But... What
happened to you, Elim? And how
did they know to bring you here?
Garak sits up, wincing at the pain behind his eyes.
They? Who are they?
I have no idea. A young woman
and an older man. I’d never seen
either of them before. But they
told me there was a situation
involving you, and somehow they
knew this house was deserted.
They made it very clear that I
wasn’t to tell anyone you were
back. What happened on Earth?
Garak climbs slowly off the pallet and stands, testing his limbs, stretching out his fingers. He feels the ridges on his face and neck, as if confirming that he is Cardassian. He looks up at Parmak, smiles. He seems happier and more energised than he has in months.
Never mind about that. What
matters is that I’m here now.
At long last. And we have
much work to do.
Garak smiles affectionately at Parmak’s confusion.
I looked at him, wondering how
I could ever explain. Parmak is
a man of science, Doctor, like
yourself. He believes that we
can reconstruct a society based
on a purely rational model. I
had believed that myself, before.
I had thought that was the very
message you had been trying to
give me when we met in the
Vinculum – that you represented
the Federation, giving me their
blessing to lead Cardassia in a
new era of rationality. But I
understood now that I was wrong.
Oh yes, my friend. It’s about
the connection, you see. That’s
All very mysterious, I must say.
Perhaps I should contact Pythas –
No. Don’t tell anyone I’m here.
No Cardassian, anyway. However,
I would like to send a message
to your Federation contact.
Parmak’s eyes go wide, his mouth drops in shock.
How... did you know...
That you’re still in contact
with Yevir? I know, Doctor.
You were the one who convinced
me we could work together with
the Bajorans, Elim. I hope you
understand, I meant no...
I do understand, my friend. I
know you were the one who helped
smuggle the Vedek off Cardassia
and back to Bajor, despite the
quarantine. And I’m glad.
I only didn’t tell you because –
Because you were afraid to tell
anyone, I understand. Now I need
you to get a message to him. And
from him, on to someone else.
But them only. No-one else must
know I’m here. Can you do that?
But surely Pythas –
No-one. It’s also vital that I
find a way to Lakarian City as
quickly and quietly as possible.
There’s much work to do, yes.
But more importantly, it’s work
that we’ve never done before.
Or not for a long time, anyway.
Parmak nods, not having the tiniest idea what Garak is going on about but trusting his friend.