~~~

Dear Garak
by Mark Russel Stanley

~~~

Dear Garak,

Hopefully, this is understandable. As often as we've conversed in
Kardasi, as often as I've read books in it, I've never had to write in
it. I considered Hebitian, as we've read and discussed much more
Hebitian fiction than Kardasi, but Hebitian is so dependent upon
context and tone for its meaning, and so complex in the physical
formation of the writing; I feared I'd make an utter mess of it.
Kardasi, then... less familiar yet less intricate.

I've gone over and over this, but it will likely still contain a few of
the eccentricities particular to my "charming human grammar."

First, my news. The research proposal I was thinking about before you
left has been completed and accepted. For the next two Federation
standard years I will map the DNA of the Founders in their natural
state, and I will investigate the theory that they share a common
ancestry with the various Preserver-seeded solid species.

A more concrete project I've been assisting with, and one which surely
interests you more, is the continuing repatriation of Cardassian war
orphans from Bajor. Most of the young adults are already home; those
who are left on Bajor are generally the ones who were adopted, and
who never had the benefit of meeting you during one of our charity
missions to the orphanages. Understandably, they have more ties to
Bajor than to Cardassia; asking them to leave would be as cruel as
asking the others to stay.

Now, the younger children are contacting me. They are still minors,
living in the orphanages, but they want to go to Cardassia and help.
For the moment I've refused them as gently as I can; I will send them
when conditions improve and arrangements can be made to place them with
families who can feed and shelter them. It speaks well for your
influence, Elim, that they feel such loyalty to a place they have never
been, and to a culture they have seen only through your example. You
have made them Cardassian in spirit.

They are so young, yet they love Cardassia every bit as much as you do,
and long for the chance to rebuild, to restore their State and become
part of Cardassian families. It makes me proud, to think that I had a
part in giving them a piece of their own heritage. It fills me with
excitement to know that I am helping to return them to their home.

Life truly is exciting these days. The end of the war has renewed the
sense of adventure and excitement that I remember from my first few
years here. The opening of the wormhole symbolizes new life and new
civilizations again, instead of being the signal that the enemy is
coming. We're recontacting many of the races we met years ago, before
the Dominion. We're meeting new species, too, finally freed from
centuries of oppression by the Founders, and trying to recapture their
ancient ways of life. When I talk to them, I find myself thinking of
you, and of Cardassia.

I hope this letter finds you well. The news coming out of Cardassian
space is erratic and spotty at best, but I have gathered at least that
life is very difficult. Frankly, I'm concerned, not only for the People
but for you. I fear you will starve, as many are starving. More, I fear
you are lonely.

I miss you, Elim, more than I ever thought possible. I have realized
over the past few months that this station would never have felt like
home without you. Yes, it's exciting, and my work is absorbing, but I
crave the conversation of someone who can outmanoeuvre me in an
argument, who can make me think about and defend my own point of view.

That's not really the truth. It's true, yes; you taught me that all the
best lies are true. I do miss your intellect, your verbal skill, your
different point of view. The truth is, though, that I simply miss you. I
wish I could simply walk across the Promenade at lunch and pull you away
from your design computer, force an F. Scott Fitzgerald story upon you,
and listen as you tell me another improbable anecdote from your
mysterious past.

You would tell me I'm being selfish and sentimental, of course. I know I
am. My wishes are frivolous compared to the immediate and undeniable
need of your people.

I still miss you. Our friendship was my most important and involving
contact, and now I can't even be sure this letter will reach you.

I hope you will have the time and resources to answer this letter, and
let me know how you and Cardassia are faring. I only wish I could see
your face again, and hear your voice, but I know that's not possible
right now.

If you could bear one more piece of human literature, my dear Plain and
Simple Garak, Jake Sisko has just published his first novel, "Anslem".
I've enclosed a paper copy for you. Jake and Ezri are dating now, which
should be upsetting, I suppose, but actually makes me feel a good deal
better. She seems happier with him than she was with me, more centred.
She has even stopped allowing the absent Captain Sisko to influence her
decisions to the point that she's completing her counsellor's training
under Dr. Telnori.

Perhaps I've grown up a little, too, in the past few months, because
I've stopped throwing myself at every sentient being who steps through
the airlock. I think it's time I begin thinking about the sort of
relationship I want, and risk my heart on something deeper than a fling.
I want to end up with someone interesting and with depth, who can match
me intellectually, a partner for the struggles ahead. I seem to have
absorbed a few Cardassian ideals when it comes to marriage and family,
Elim: I find myself thinking of a partnership defined by duty, shared
suffering, good meals and good arguments.

One human ideal I stubbornly cling to, though, is shared secrets. I
don't think I could really love someone I didn't know and trust
completely. I'm sure you're chuckling indulgently at me now, thinking
how unrealistic and sentimental I am, but I am still a human, and these
things mean something to me.

I'm looking forward to your answer.

Julian.

~~~

The End