// Perché sei cosi bella
 Se non sai quello che vuoi?
 Io d'amore ti vestirò
 Ma non mi domandare dove io ti porterò// (2)

Tony had always hated Umberto Tozzi, the sort of schmaltzy crooner his mother liked to listen to when he was a child. But now, that music he used to dislike so much brought back a flood of memories. If he closed his eyes again, he could picture himself back in his parent's flat in Florence, immobilised by the still heat of a summer's day. He could smell the musty odour of the ancient rooms and see, high above him, the flaking paint of the ornate ceiling, last reminder of a time when Via Garibaldi number 14 was some rich banker's private house and not a haphazard collection of converted flats.

He was a little boy with long shabby hair and shorts that disappeared under an old Euro '76 T-shirt. It was a July day, one of those days that was so hot and sweltering all he wanted to do was lie on his bed in the oversized room he shared with his brother Guido, looking up at the stylised stars on the distant ceiling, listening to his mother ironing in the next room, her husky voice occasionally rising to sing along with Tozzi's songs on the radio.

Tony opened his eyes and looked at the elaborate grid that decorated Deep Space Nine's ceiling. He chuckled. Who needs regression therapy when you have music? I should play this song to Maya, he thought automatically, before realising that was unlikely to happen any time soon. Typical. For the first time in years, the Alphans had hope of some improvement in their lives, and he had to go and argue with Maya. He reminded himself that the argument had been her fault, not his, and that it was up to her to apologise. Then he'd play the song for her.

And what if she didn't apologise? What if Weyoun convinced her to join the Dominion? He'd certainly convinced her to meet him, even in spite of a direct order from John. Or what if Maya decided she preferred Odo, for instance, because he was a Metamorph too and would therefore understand her better? Cazzo! he thought crudely, realising that all the questions would only make him more miserable. Don't be such a fool. It was bad enough knowing Maya was angry with him; he didn't need to make things worse for himself by wondering what might happen if she stayed angry.

Tony looked up in surprise as the computer momentarily toned down the music so he could hear the door chime. For one insane moment, Tony thought it might be Maya, and his heart leapt accordingly. He then remembered she was still on Alpha talking to the Dominion Big Cheese; that was what he was miserable about, after all.

There was no commlock to show him who was standing outside the door, so Tony got up and approached the entrance. "Who is it?"

"Tony, it's Nerys." Tony deactivated the lock and the door slid open to reveal Major Kira. "Hi," she said. "I was wondering if you'd like to have some lunch?"

Evidently satisfied that they had had enough silence, the computer turned the music back up to its original volume.

"Be, si, cioè... I mean yes," said Tony, confused by the sudden blast of Italian from the computer. "Sure I'd love some lunch. Um, computer, turn the music off!"

The music instantly switched off and they were able to hear each other again. Tony looked down at himself and realised he was still only in his trousers and tank top. "I'll just go and put my top back on. Sorry."

"I like your uniforms, by the way," said Nerys, following him into the room as he went over to get his tunic. "They're very unusual for humans. I thought Terrans only ever wore one piece suits."

"Yeah, they were designed by some big fashion designer -- you know, a flash new look for the Moon." Tony pulled on his tunic and zipped it up.

"I've never seen a garment that did up like that," said Kira, observing the zip that ran up the left sleeve.

"Yeah, neither had I. And I can tell you I curse it every morning," said Tony as he fastened his belt. The plastic sash felt unusually light without the commlock and gun that usually hung from it. He had managed to lose both the previous night.

"What's this for?" Kira was pointing at the identity badge on his chest. "I've been meaning to ask you."

"That's in case I forget who I am," he said with a grin as he put on his jacket. He fiddled to get the two edges of the zip together and then yanked up the slide. Once he had fastened the garment, he discovered he was too hot and was strongly tempted to unzip it again. But feeling Kira's fascinated gaze fixed on him, he left it at that.

It occurred to him that the static electricity from pulling on the tunic had probably messed up his hair, so he went into the bathroom to smooth his hair down with a bit of water and make sure none of the grey at his temples was showing. Looking at himself in the mirror, he reflected that he was really pleased with the shaving device DS9 provided in its bathrooms; for once in his life, he actually looked clean-shaven. When he turned to leave the bathroom, he found that Nerys was standing in the doorway. She looked very amused.

"What?" he challenged.

Nerys shook her head, though she was now grinning, her eyes bright with amusement. Maybe she wasn't used to men who took care of their appearance the way he did. Tony shrugged and indicated they could go.

Helena looked around the disused Medical Centre which had been her place of work for the past seven years, ever since she had first become the Alphan Chief Medical Officer in 1998. There was nothing left in there; the ward was a wide empty space, with bare shelves and gaping holes in the walls. All her monitors and scanners had been removed, packed and sent to Deep Space Nine, perhaps to be reused some day... or sent to some museum.

Having seen the technology Julian had at his disposal, Helena realised just how primitive her 20th century instruments were in this age when injuries could be cured at the wave of a regenerator. The events of the previous night had proved how useless she had become: under her care, she was in no doubt Tony and John would have died.

Helena dismissed the thought, shaking her head gently. Comparing the medicine of her time to that of Julian's was as pointless as comparing it to the medicine of Shakespeare's day. She had been an excellent doctor in her time, but that time was gone. What she needed to do now was help the Alphans -- and especially John -- through the evacuation.

John had just made an announcement from the broadcast centre explaining that Alpha was being evacuated today because of the imminent collision with Bajor VIII, and that Starfleet was currently looking for a way to send them back to their own universe. He had chosen to make no mention of Starfleet Command's plan to evacuate the Alphans to some distant starbase. As far as John was concerned, that was not going to happen. Not as long as he was the commander of the Alphans.

From what Helena could tell, the Alphans had mixed feelings about leaving the Moon. Some, like Alibe or Shermeen, were looking forward to leaving and had already volunteered to be among the first ones to go to Deep Space Nine. Others, the majority, seemed reluctant to leave; Helena herself would have been happier if she knew for sure what was in store for them.

"Helena?"

Without looking around, she leaned back into John's embrace and felt him rest his chin on her head. Her mind momentarily cleared of its problems, she looked down and ran idle fingers over the back of his clasped hands.

"It isn't easy, is it?" he said gently. "We've built so much here."

Helena pulled away and turned to face him. "It would be easier if we knew what was going to happen to us. We've been prepared to leave for years now, but we always thought it would be to go and build a new life on a planet. But now, we're having to leave Alpha with no idea of what the future holds."

"I know." John nodded gravely. "I'm still hoping we can find a way back to our universe."

"With what?" asked Helena. "Without the Moon, we have nowhere to go."

"We didn't have anywhere to go with it, either," he remarked wryly. "But we do have one thing going in our favour." Helena lifted her eyebrows quizzically, waiting to hear what he would say. "Money. It turns out tiranium is a valuable commodity in this universe. Maya found that out yesterday. I've asked Patrick and Jim to strip all the life-support and medical equipment of their tiranium as soon as we've got off the base."

"But we haven't got that much tiranium..." she started, recalling that the substance had always been in short supply on Alpha.

John's rugged features lit up with a grin. "According to the calculations Maya made, we do have enough to buy a ship. We're rich, Helena!" He widened his eyes dramatically in an obvious effort to cheer her up.

Helena smiled at the idea of acquiring a 24th century ship. "Would we know how to pilot a Starfleet ship?"

"Oh, I'm sure we'd work it out," he said dismissively. "I know Maya has been studying the superluminal propulsion systems they use here."

"Have you talked to Maya?" asked Helena, her mood more sombre as she remembered the scene in the Infirmary that morning.

John nodded. "She didn't say much; she came over with Constable Odo to help with the evacuation, and she'll meet the Dominion representative at 1400, DS9 time. By then, most of the Alphans will be on the station. I said she could use the Medical Centre to meet this man Weyoun."

Helena lifted her eyebrows again and looked at her husband curiously, remembering how adamantly opposed to the idea he had been only a few hours earlier.

"I figured it wasn't fair to deny Maya something she wanted so much," he explained, spreading his hands. "It isn't as if she's asked for much in the time she's been with us... You don't mind that I told her she could meet Weyoun here, do you?"

Helena looked around and shook her head. What had once been her Medical Centre was now nothing more than a collection of plastic walls and neon lights.

"Yes, that's all right. I won't be needing it anymore."

Odo observed his surroundings with interest. He hadn't been on Alpha before and he was fascinated by the unfamiliar 20th century decor. One thing he noticed almost immediately was that whoever had decorated the base had a fetish for plastic.

Aside from the brown canvas covering the sofa, everything in Maya's living room was made of white plastic: the walls, the shelves, the coffee table and chairs, even the clothes hangers in the cupboard by the door. The room was subterranean, and so had no windows, but it was brightly lit by panels on the wall and lights on the ceiling. Those were covered in translucent plastic.

As on DS9, the living quarters were arranged so that the entrance led straight into the main room, but here, the bedroom area was only separated from the living-room by an empty stack of shelves. Odo found it a bit disturbing to be sitting in plain view of Maya's bed, even though it was stripped of all sheets and covers. Her possessions had probably been transferred to DS9 by now; the shelves and the cupboards were bare, and there were nothing but unadorned hooks on the walls, where pictures had once been hung. All that was left was the furniture -- more 20th century textures and shapes to explore.

Odo was particularly intrigued by the floor, which was covered with some kind of textured fabric he didn't recognise: in fact, as soon as he was alone in Maya's quarters, he knelt down to observe the material more closely.

He was still on all fours, looking at the floor, when he became aware that Maya was in the room. She had left him to go and get some lunch at the Moonbase's Cafeteria, and was now standing near the entrance, carrying a plastic tray and watching him in surprise. He'd been so engrossed by the texture of the floor surfacing he hadn't even noticed her coming in.

"Oh, ah, I was just... looking at the floor," he said as he got up, unable to make up any excuses for what he had been doing. "Do you have any idea what the covering is made of?"

Maya looked down at the floor thoughtfully, but shook her head. She went to sit on her sofa and placed her tray on a low table. "I'm not sure. I think someone did mention it once... it's called 'lino' or something. I assume it's some kind of plastic, like everything else."

"Well, no, it isn't, actually." Odo approached Maya, dusting himself off -- anywhere humanoids lived was always coated with particles of their skin, hair or clothing. He sat on the sofa beside her. "It seems to be a fabric impregnated with some kind of oily resin."

"I see." Maya didn't seem particularly interested in the floor, but she did smile at Odo. "Are floor coverings a hobby of yours?"

Odo was taken aback by the question and it took him a second or two to realise Maya was joking. "No," was all he could think to answer, even though he knew the question wasn't serious. "But I'm always interested in examining different textures and substances. It helps me shapeshift."

Maya's expression immediately lit up with interest. "Oh. You're looking for things that might be useful to change into."

"Well, not necessarily useful." He somehow doubted he would ever be called upon to emulate the Alphan floor-covering. "But I suppose you could say changing into new textures is a hobby of mine."

Maya lowered her eyes. "It's been a while since changing shape was a hobby of mine. It's become more of a job these days..." she let her voice trail off with a half shrug. "How does observing the floor help you transform?"

"I find that changing into different kinds of objects and materials makes it easier to change into other shapes," explained Odo. "It's like... training, if you like. Exercising. Trying out new textures and forms is good preparation for changing into... useful things, like my humanoid appearance. Perhaps you do the same thing."

"Well... I used to," she started. "When I was learning how to transform, I had to do a certain number of exercises every day. They usually involved changing into creatures my size first, and then gradually working on larger or smaller creatures. But since I've been on Alpha, I've had to transform so often I don't even bother to do any 'exercising'."

Maya dipped one of the dry biscuits in her soup and then proceeded to eat it. Odo's eyes automatically followed her hand and he noticed that she had a second commlock on her tray. He could just make out the lettering VERDES on the part he could see.

"I don't mean to pry..." he picked up the commlock. The device was -- predictably -- covered in plastic, with a tiny glass screen at one end and some kind of antenna at the other. The inscription on the side featured Verdeschi's name and an uninspiring image of the human in shades of grey. "...You seem quite close to Mister Verdeschi... I... heard that he was... that you were together." Odo still found it difficult to believe that such a remarkable young woman could be attracted to such a nondescript human. Having seen her holding the man in the Infirmary that morning, however, he had to accept that it was true.

Maya laughed. "I'm glad to see news travels as fast on Deep Space Nine as it does -- did on Alpha," she said. "Do you know Captain Sisko asked me exactly the same thing yesterday? Someone has obviously been talking."

"I think Mr Verdeschi told Nerys you were lovers," explained Odo innocently.

"Did he, by Jove," she said dryly; her smile had vanished. Odo was surprised to hear the expression she used; he had once heard Doctor Bashir saying exactly the same, inexplicable, thing. Some regional Terran idiom, no doubt.

"You don't sound too pleased," he remarked. "I'm sorry. Was it supposed to be a secret?"

"It's complicated," she said, shrugging her shoulders and continuing her lunch. "But yes, we are very close... even Weyoun knew. That's why he suggested I bring Tony as my bodyguard. I suppose he tapped into Alpha's main computer. It does contain a lot of information about us, and... it's not exactly difficult to access."

"I suppose you would have preferred to see Weyoun with Mr Verdeschi as your escort."

Maya smiled wryly and shook her head. "Well... come to think of it, no. Tony can be a bit hot headed sometimes, especially where I'm concerned. But I don't know what Weyoun will make of this change in plan -- bringing you instead of Tony." She paused thoughtfully, and then continued. "Perhaps you should change into Tony for a while, just so that Weyoun won't get suspicious that a Federation representative is with me."

"I'm not a Federation representative," said Odo, though he knew that was just a technicality. "And I... can't change into humanoids."

Maya stared at him in surprise. "You can't..? But you said you could change into any object, animate or not. Why can't you change into humanoids?"

It was a sore point with him, but Odo steeled himself to give his explanation. "Unlike you, I don't actually change my genetic structure. All I do is emulate shapes and surfaces, and the amount of detail necessary to create a realistic humanoid face for any length of time requires a level of skill I haven't yet mastered..." He paused, before asking, "You find it easy to change into people?"

"Yes, quite easy. I'll show you!"

Maya put her bowl back on the tray and then stared into the middle distance, evidently concentrating. After a couple of seconds, her shape dissolved into the haze Odo had witnessed on the Promenade, the first time he had seen her, but within less than a second, she had rematerialised as Kira, of all people. "You see, a perfect replica."

Intrigued, Odo leaned closer to look at the details of her face. The resemblance was indeed astounding; every hair, every pore, every subtle wrinkle was just as Odo knew it. Even the shape of her body under the red uniform was perfectly replicated. Maya's ability to mimic other humanoids was evidently on a par with that of Odo's own people.

"That is remarkable."

Maya changed back into herself and laughed. "And rather disturbing, no doubt. I generally avoid changing into people I know too well. It... it can be a bit embarrassing. I've never changed into Tony, for instance."

"I can understand that," said Odo, nodding. He would definitely not be comfortable emulating Nerys.

"So it seems there are some things I can do that you can't do, and vice versa," said Maya delightedly. "I can't change into inanimate objects, and you can't change into humanoids."

Odo reflected on Maya's transformation into Kira -- complete with uniform and commbadge. "There is something I don't understand," he remarked. "You said you couldn't change into inanimate objects. But you changed your clothes as well as your appearance. So you must be able to create non-organic matter."

Maya laughed. "Yes, that's a trick I had to learn quickly. Changing into animals is easy, but humanoids have to be clothed. I can change part of myself to simulate clothes by consciously realigning my molecules, but only for a very short period of time..."

There was an electronic beep and Maya looked up at the screens on the wall beside the cupboard. Commander Koenig's face had appeared on the four screens; Odo was surprised at the total lack of colour in the image, and the distortion caused by the curved glass the image was projected on. He wondered why they needed four screens -- two large and two small -- but concluded that the design was probably aesthetic rather than practical.

"Maya," said Koenig. "I've just got news from Security. It looks as though your friend Weyoun has materialised in the Medical Centre."