Closer to home, Dr. Lense had treated Sonya and Hawkins—removing the lingering effects of the gas from their throats and patching up their wounds.

There were still plenty of relief efforts that needed to be coordinated, and the Sugihara had at last arrived in order to aid in those matters, freeing the da Vinci up to resume its course for Starbase 505.

Sonya sat in the mess hall with Carol Abramowitz and Bart Faulwell, who were filling her in on what happened on the da Vinci while she was dealing with Ganitriul.

“I’m just glad things will get back to normal,” Sonya said.

Carol snorted. “Not much chance of that. The First Speaker’s dead, the only surviving member of the clergy is a mass murderer, and now everyone’s questioning the efficacy of having one big, vulnerable computer. Even if they do keep things as they are, their entire spiritual base and the people who are capable of fixing Ganitriul are all dead. You don’t just recover from that by taking out an invasive program.”

Bart shrugged. “Maybe they’ll decide to join the Federation. Or at least work something out so that some computer experts can be nearby until they can train people. Or something.”

“Maybe 110 and his new mate could do that after he rebonds,” Carol said.

“Maybe,” Bart said, looking down, and suddenly very interested in his root beer.

Sonya frowned, and wondered what that look was about—especially after that odd look 110 had given Bart before accepting the assignment.

Oh well , she thought. It’s not my business. She polished off her mug of Earl Grey and said, “Still, that’s not our lookout. We’re the fix-it squad, not the diplomats. We’ve done what we’re supposed to do—now we go on to the next assignment. Or, in this case, to Starbase 505. I’m sure both 110 and Geordi will be happy to finally be heading home.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Carol said with a smile, “they were both pretty handy. Maybe they’ll stick around.”

Returning the smile, Sonya said, “Trust me, nothing will keep Geordi off the Enterprise for any length of time. And 110 does have obligations.”

“True,” Carol said.

Bart continued to stare at his root beer.

110 stared at the ceiling of the quarters that, until recently, he had shared with the love of his life.

He had received accolades, not just from Captain Gold and Commander Gomez, but also from the new First Speaker of Eerlik, a man named Biral, who had gone on for quite some time about how grateful the Eerlikka were, to the S.C.E. in general and to 110 in particular.

And now, finally, the da Vinci was headed back to Starbase 505, from which 110 was supposed to take a transport to Bynaus.

110 got up off the bed and stared at the viewscreen, which presently was programmed to show the stars as they appeared when at warp. Humans always liked to gaze at the stars whenever they sought out answers, but 110 and 111 had always found the practice to be pointless.

Now that he was alone—it was just as pointless. The stars had no answers.

If he did not return to Bynaus, he would be an outcast.

If he did return to Bynaus, he would have to rebond.

He found each choice to be repugnant in some form or other. While he could not imagine not being a true part of Bynar society, neither could he imagine living without 111.

At least he knew that he could function without 111. He had fixed Ganitriul. He had saved Eerlik. That, at least, counted for something.

110 lay back down on the bunk and stared at the ceiling.