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“Data,” Riker said. “The sensors can’t penetrate the planet’s ionosphere; there’s too much interference. Can you find another way to scan for life-forms?”

Data settled behind his station and glanced up at his commanding officer; his grin broadened. “I would be happy to, sir. I just love to scan for life-forms.” He set at once to work, ad-libbing a merry little song: “Life-forms… tiny little life-forms… where are you, life-forms… ?”

Riker’s lips parted in aghast amazement, he dared not turn round, for fear of catching sight of Deanna’s eyes. But his gaze accidentally met the Klingon’s, who shot him a look of such long-suffering martyrdom that Riker looked away quickly, before he erupted in laughter.

Atop the dusty plateau, Picard moved warily, giving an occasional surreptitious kick and noting where the pebbles bounced off the field’s perimeter. Overhead, the sky still shone brightly with the Veridian sun—but not, the captain feared, for long, Soran bent, utterly absorbed, over the launcher’s control panel. If he was not stopped soon—

“Soran,” he said loudly; the scientist did not look up. “I can see that despite everything, you still possess compassion. You could have killed my engineer—”

Without taking his focus from his task, Soran interrupted harshly. “I didn’t have the time.”

“I don’t believe that.” Picard took a few more steps around the field’s perimeter, managed another swift, unnoticed kick. Dust and pebbles collided with the field in a colorful burst of sparks, then fell to the sand. “It would have been just as easy to kill him as let him go. Soran… you had a wife, children. They died in a

senseless tragedy. Can’t you see that you’ve become what you most despised? What you’re about to do is no different from when the Borg destroyed your world. Two hundred thirty million wives, husbands, children…”

Keeping his attention focused on the launcher controls, the scientist at last replied—with such soft, cool detachment in his voice that Picard shuddered inwardly. “You’re right,” Soran said. “And there was a time when I wouldn’t have hurt anyone. Then the Borg came… and they showed me that if there is one constant in this universe, it’s death.” He paused to key in a command, then continued in the same even, conversational tone.

“Afterward, I began to realize that none of it mattered. We’re all going to die anyway. It’s only a question of how and when. You will, too, Captain. You might contract a fatal disease… you might die in battle…”

He lifted his face and fixed Picard with a gaze that pierced to the captain’s soul. “… or burn to death in a fire.”

Despite himself, Picard froze. Soran stepped down from the launcher and moved closer until he stood just on the field’s other side.

“You look surprised,” he said softly. “But you shouldn’t be. I’ve been to the nexus, Captain. I know things about people.” He leaned closer, his eyes bright with the desperate intensity Picard had first seen in Ten-Forward; his voice dropped to just above a whisper. “Aren’t you beginning to feel time gaining on you? It’s like a predator. It’s stalking you. You can try to outrun it with doctors, medicines… new technologies. But in the end, time is going to hunt you downmand make the kill.” As he finished, his lips twisted with bitterness.

Picard lowered his gaze. Impossible to deny the truth