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Soran did not glance up from his console; but Picard saw something dark and ugly flicker across his profile. The captain pressed harder.

“When you tucked your children into bed… do you suppose they ever suspected that their father would one day kill millions as casually as he kissed them good night?”

At last Soran stopped his work and looked up. For an instant his eyes were still vulnerable, haunted by memories. Picard felt a stirring of hope. And then the brittle-ness ascended upward from the scientist’s hollowly smiling lips to his eyes.

“Nice try,” he whispered huskily, then turned back to his work.

In the instant he woke to darkness, Geordi La Forge was seized by the unreasoning fear that he was back on the Klingon Bird-of-Prey. Soran was waiting for him in the silence laced by the ship’s rumbling and the inces-sant ticking of a clock, and this time, all compassion was gone from the scientist’s voice as he said, I’m afraidyour time is up, Mr. La Forge. Let’s try for the full six minutes, shall we?

Geordi opened his eyes with a gasp—which evolved into a relieved sigh when he saw himself surrounded by the familiar sight of the Enterprise sickbay. He blinked to clear the last vestiges of the dream.

He had been frightened while aboard the Bird-of- Prey—but the pain and Soran had been a distraction. Now that he was safe, the danger he had been in began to hit home. He could have easily been killed …. He banished the thought as Dr. Crusher leaned,

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smiling, over the biobed, and draped her auburn hair over an ear. “How’re you feeling?”

He returned the smile as he realized that, physically, he felt ready to return to work. “Just fine.”

She nodded. “Don’t worry, there’s been no permanent damage. There’s only been a little arterial scarring and some myocardial degeneration. I’ve removed the nanoprobe and I think you’re going to be fine, but I want to run some more tests.”

“Thanks, Doc,” he said, and pushed himself to a sitting position. He could tell from her voice and expression that he was all right and that she was, as usual, simply being very cautious.

The doctor moved away to reveal Data, who had been standing behind her.

“Data!” Geordi grinned. He had intended to ask whether the emotion chip had been removed—but the question was unnecessary. The android’s eyes were troubled, his expression one of concern, mixed with remorse. “So—you didn’t remove the chip after all?”

“No. It was fused into my neural net. Removing it would be quite complicated—so I am attempting to deal with the emotions.” Data sighed heavily. “It has not been easy. I have been very worried about you, Geordi.”

“It’s okay.” Geordi spread his arms wide. “I’m here, and I’m fine.”

“It is more than that.” Data paused, then lowered his head. “I let Soran kidnap you. I could have prevented it, but I did not. And if you had died—” “But I didn’t, Data. It’s over, and I’m okay.”

The android glanced up, his expression miserable. “I am sorry I let you down, Geordi. I have not been behaving like myself lately.”

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Impulsively, Geordi reached out and gave his friend’s hand a pat. “No, you haven’t. You’ve been behaving like a human.” He paused. “I understand. When Soran tortured me, I was afraid. Dying is a very scary thing, Data. It’s normal to fear it.”

The android tilted his head in a puzzled gesture that reminded Geordi so much of the old Data that he smiled. “I agree,” Data said, thoughtful. “But before I had the chip implanted, it would have made no sense to me.” He paused. “It still makes no sense, even though I have experienced the emotion. What is so terrible about simply ceasing to exist?”

Geordi shrugged. “I don’t know. Fear of the unknown, maybe… or maybe it’s just that our instinct to live is so strong.”

“But this is terrible,” Data said. “I am designed to outlast everyone aboard this vessel, yet I am terrified at the thought that, eventually, one day, I will … cease. And that I must lose all of my friends.” He shared a meaningful look with Geordi. “How do you bear it?”

He did not answer immediately. “We don’t have much choice, I guess. And… to be honest, most of the time we try not to think about it.” He hesitated. “But maybe we ought to. It’d make us appreciate each moment—and our friends”—he smiled at the android, and reached again for his hand—”a lot more.”

And as he watched, the expression of dismay on Data’s face slowly metamorphosed into a smile.

“I have established the link,” the navigator, Qorak, said.

B’Etor shared a swift glance with her sister and smiled with relief. Until this moment, she had not trusted Soran

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too far; too much kindness lurked behind the madness in his eyes. Yet his intensity attracted her—despite the fact that he was a puny human, a race she had never found attractive. Physically, Soran was no exception; he was lean, wiry, short by Klingon standards. But there was something intriguing about him: the bright silver hair, cropped short, the translucent skin, the pale-colored eyes.

Those eyes… they held an intensity she had rarely seen, even in the most determined of Klingon males. His eyes had blazed with it when he had struck her on the bridge. She respected that intensity—for she knew few that shared it, except for herself and her sister. Her life, her being, was consumed by one passion: seeing the Duras family restored to power. Now, with Soran’s help, she would see that passion consummated. And more: With the trilithium weapon, the sisters of Duras could conquer far more than the Klingon Empire that was their birthright. With such power, the entire galaxy would soon be theirs.

She had come close to killing Soran when he had struck her; but even in her anger, she was forced to bear grudging admiration for anyone who dared lash out at her on the bridge, in full view of her soldiers.

She hoped she could trust him. For if not, despite her attraction, she would personally see to his death. “Put it onscreen,” Lursa ordered.

WEtor held her breath. Static filled the viewscreen, then cleared gradually to reveal… white. Nothing but white, and for an instant, she felt a stab of fury: Soran had lied, had betrayed them ….

And then she released her breath, gently, as she realized they were staring at a ceiling on the Enterprise.

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B’Etor’s grin returned as, beside her, Lursa said softly, “It’s working …. “

“Where is he?” B’Etor demanded.

As if in answer, a human’s face loomed large on the screen. A woman, with a face so pale and smooth, it seemed to B’Etor naked, unfinished as a gestating child’s. The woman leaned over the link, smiling with abnormally even, tiny teeth, her long, fine hair hanging forward in a shining curtain.

B’Etor recoiled with a grimace. “Human females are so repulsive …. “

The woman began to speak silently. Lursa and B’Etor watched as the woman withdrew; soon the strange-looking android with the golden eyes appeared. He, too, silently mouthed words—and then the woman returned, and began to perform what appeared to be medical tests, until B’Etor shifted restlessly in her chair and mumbled an epithet beneath her breath.

Even so, she and her sister continued to gaze at the screen. Too much—the entire galaxy—was at stake to let vigilance lapse. At last the view switched from the sickbay to the Enterprise corridors. B’Etor felt a surge of hope… until the scene shifted to that of a luxurious cabin, and a private head. Soon the two sisters were staring at cascades of running water. “He’s taking a bath,” Lursa growled.

B’Etor stared in irritation at the screen as a pair of dark feet suddenly peeked out from beneath sloshing water. She turned to her sister. “I thought he was the chief engineer.” “He is,” Lursa replied disconsolately. “Then when is he going to engineering?” B’Etor fell silent as Lursa struck her arm with the back

of a hand to get her attention, then gestured toward the screen. The view had suddenly changed again, to one of mists and fog. B’Etor leaned forward, expectant, as a dark hand appeared from beyond the mist…

Then wiped away the fog to reveal La Forge’s unself-conscious reflection. She fell back in her chair and howled in frustration.

On a different bridge, Will Riker was feeling no small amount of unease as he gazed at the Bird-of-Prey on the viewscreen. He understood Picard’s reasons for wanting to beam down to Veridian III, but he in no way trusted the Duras sisters. Not that he feared a direct attack—the Klingon ship was no match for the likes of the Enterprise —but he knew Lursa and B’Etor were capable of great treachery. And he could not shake the nagging premonition that something was amiss, something was about to go terribly wrong—and not simply with the captain.

Perhaps Deanna sensed it, too—or maybe she simply sensed his own discomfort. Either way, he was aware of her dark eyes studying him with an expression of concern; he did not meet them, but focused his attention on Worf, who studied the readout on his monitor with a decided frown. “Any luck, Mr. Worf?.” He leaned over the console.

The Klingon shook his head. “No, sir. I am still unable to locate the captain.”

Riker turned as the turbolift doors slid open. Data stepped forward onto the bridge and headed for his station. The android’s mood had changed radically from the last time Riker had seen him. Data’s lips curved upward in a faint grin; his posture was straight, his step buoyant.