He found a bulkhead intercom and called sickbay, using the prearranged code just in case anyone else was listening.

"Sickbay," Dorn replied.

"This is Stryker. Have you located that medication yet?"

"Not yet, but I still haven't checked through all the stores. You'll just have to be patient for a little while. I'll give you call as soon as I've inventoried all of the supplies."

"Okay, thanks," said Riker, "but don't take too long." He clicked the intercom off. The plan was in motion. She would be on her way down the Jeffries tube as soon as she could get to the access hatch. He had about forty-five minutes left before shutdown to get a call out to the Enterprise and head for the emergency transporter. Fortunately, Blaze would not expect him back on the bridge any time soon.

Riker had a pretty good idea just what Blaze was planning. He would have T'grayn prepare an authorization for his K'tralli banks to execute a coded subs.p.a.ce transfer order of all his a.s.sets to the Ferengi system, undoubtedly to one of Blaze's own accounts. Then he would tell T'grayn that he was waiting for a subs.p.a.ce confirmation of the transfer before taking him aboard. And while T'grayn waited to hear from him, Blaze would simply leave. T'grayn undoubtedly had considerable a.s.sets, and Blaze's mind would be on getting hold of them, especially since he had contributed so heavily to T'grayn's wealth in the first place. But even though Blaze would be preoccupied with hijacking T'grayn's accounts, there still wasn't any time to lose.

Riker knew his best chance to get a message out quickly would be to do it from Auxiliary Control on Deck 7. That would also put him within close distance of the main transporter rooms. Blaze would undoubtedly have someone stationed there. The armory was also on Deck 7. It would be locked, and probably guarded under normal circ.u.mstances, but with a small crew and every available crewman needed for the repair details, there was a chance there might be no one posted at the armory. But he didn't want to have to bet on that.

If he could reach Auxiliary Control, it would almost certainly be vacant. Getting there would be only the first problem, however. Once inside, he could compose his message in advance on the computer, then lock out the bridge controls and broadcast it on Starfleet frequency, so that it would reach both Starbase 37 and the Enterprise. There would be little point in taking time to code the message. Just sending it would blow their cover, and then Blaze would realize who sent it and exactly what it contained.

As Riker made his way back to the upper decks, he tried to estimate how much time he would have from the moment he started to transmit the message. The moment he keyed "transmit," it would be picked up on the bridge immediately, unless they were all asleep up there. Not much chance of that, he thought, wryly. It would take only a moment for the communications mate, T'gahl, to register the transmission command on his console, see where it was coming from, and warn Blaze. Another moment for Blaze to order crewmen to auxiliary control.

The bulk of the crew were working on repairs, but aside from those on the bridge, Blaze had to have at least some crewmen posted at key stations throughout the ship. Someone would have to be stationed at the main transporter rooms, and probably at the armory, as well. They would be closest, so he should probably count on at least two people within easy reach of him on Deck 7. The rest would be up on the bridge or working down in the aft section of the ship. Some of the crew would EVA with workbees as soon as Blaze ordered the drive systems shutdown, so they could start work on the exterior of the hull. Geordi would probably a.s.sign as many of them to EVA detail as he could reasonably get away with before he made his move, and he would try to make sure the rest of them were tied up with work, as well.

In any case, thought Riker, it would take much longer for crewmen to reach him at auxiliary control from the aft section of the ship than it would if they came down directly from the bridge. Blaze would realize that, of course, which meant that Blaze would probably come after him himself, with some of the bridge crew. The turbolift could take them directly from the main bridge to Auxiliary Control in about a minute or two. That wasn't much time.

He could get to the main transporters in about a minute or two if he ran, but if he was slowed down by having to overpower anyone in his way, and then having to program his escape coordinates, it would give those coming from the bridge enough time to catch up with him. He decided he couldn't take the risk. He might be able to overpower one or two men in a couple of minutes, if he was lucky, but he'd never have enough time to program the transporter. And Blaze would undoubtedly realize he would be heading there.

No, thought Riker, the main transporters were out. He'd have to do it the hard way, and hope like h.e.l.l they didn't catch on soon enough. Send the message, then race full-tilt down the length of Deck 7 to the vertical intermix shaft, take one of the one-man lifts that ran along the shaft down to Deck 15, and race down the companionway through the horizontal intermix chamber to the landing bay control room. From there, he could take the stairs down to Deck 17. That was a long way to go. And if Blaze figured out where he was heading, he'd have plenty of time to get on the ship's intercom and order crewmen up from Engineering to cut him off. Where? The most likely places for him to get trapped would be either in the horizontal intermix chamber or on the stairs, coming down from the landing bay control room.

"Options, Number One," Picard would say at a time like this. "I want options." Well, Riker thought, there just flat weren't that many. Try for the main transporters on Deck 7 and he would be caught while trying to overpower the transporter operator or program the escape coordinates, or else try to make it down to Deck 17, where Geordi would have the transporter all set to go, and take a chance on getting caught between the horizontal intermix chamber and the emergency transporter facility in the secondary hull. Either way, there was a good chance he'd never make it.

What I wouldn't give for a phaser right now, he thought, as he stepped out of the turbolift on Deck 7. Or even that bowie knife. As he pa.s.sed sickbay, he quickly glanced inside. Dorn was already gone. Good, he thought. Move it, Lieutenant. Fly. He kept on walking down the corridor, past the armory and the main transporter rooms. He couldn't tell if anyone was on duty in the transporter rooms, because the doors were closed. No one was stationed outside the armory, but it was locked, which meant that anyone trying to break in would alert whoever was stationed at the transporters. a.s.suming there was only one transporter operator on duty, that meant he only had one man to get past once the bridge gave the alarm. He was tempted to check, but he didn't want to risk the transporter operator becoming suspicious and checking with the bridge to see what he was doing there. He was supposed to be clear at the other end of the ship. No, he couldn't risk it. He had to get the message out first.

He made it to the auxiliary bridge and entered. No one there. Blaze wasn't very careful about security. But then, under the present circ.u.mstances, he couldn't afford to be. He was far more vulnerable uncloaked and with his drive systems shut down. He had to use every crew member he could spare for the work details to get the job done as quickly as possible.

Riker sat down at the computer console and punched up duplicate readouts from the navigation station on the bridge. It was safe enough to do that, he thought, it wouldn't alert them up there. He noted the position of the Glory, then started to compose his message. Keep it short and to the point. "Riker to Enterprise," he typed. "Landing party shanghaied aboard Glory, in orbit above D'rahl." He entered the position coordinates. "Unknown number Romulan forces present in area. T'grayn/J'drahn in collusion. Warbird on your tail, in pursuit. Red alert. Will try to effect escape. If unsuccessful, give 'em h.e.l.l. End message."

He sat back and stared at the screen. That should do it, he thought. He checked the time. Roughly twenty minutes before Blaze gave the shutdown order. They would have already started preparing for it on the bridge and down in Engineering. That meant Geordi would be making his move in about ten or fifteen minutes. Riker wished he could take advantage of that time to simply program the auxilliary communications console to send the message in ten minutes and then start making his way back down to Deck 17, but unless he locked out the bridge controls, there was a chance that they could interrupt the signal from the bridge. And the moment he locked out the bridge controls, he'd give himself away. He grimaced. Nothing to do but sit tight for at least the next ten minutes. Then lock out the bridge controls, send the message, and run like h.e.l.l.

Dorn climbed quickly down the ladder running the length of the aft Jeffries tube. It was a long way down and she had to move fast. There was just one problem, something she hadn't told Riker about. Something she had never told anyone about.

She had received a commendation for the mission in which those renegade cybrids had been killed, the same mission that had seen the entire landing party under her command wiped out. Those cybrids had fought harder than anyone expected. The authorities on Artemis VI were supposed to aid her people, but they'd had enough. Starfleet was on hand, and they wanted Starfleet to take care of it. The three cybrids had holed up in a warehouse at the s.p.a.ceport. They had probably hoped to commandeer a shuttle and try to get off-planet, but they had run out of time. The warehouse was surrounded, but none of the colonists were willing to go in and get them. The job fell to the landing party.

They went in, and it was horrible. The cybrids took out three of them before they knew what hit them. And Dorn had panicked. She had found an empty shipping crate and crawled inside, fastening the lid, and there she had cowered, in the dark, in the cramped, closed-in dark, while the cybrids stalked and systematically took out the remainder of her command. She had been completely paralyzed with fear, waiting for them to find her. She heard her crewmates calling out for her, and was too terrified to respond, too terrified to move. The last one to die had been Ensign Mathieson. But as the cybrids moved in for the kill, the dying young ensign had set his phaser on overload and the cybrids were killed in the resulting explosion. When it was all over, she was the only one left alive, and she got the credit for what Ensign Mathieson had done. And she could never admit what had really happened. She had carried the guilt in secret ever since. And she had also carried something else ... something she had gained while cowering in that cramped, dark shipping crate. She had developed claustrophobia.

The Jeffries tube was narrow, and it was very close in there. As she climbed down the ladder, she felt the terror mounting and was helpless to do anything to stop it. All she could think of was getting out of there. Her breathing came in short gasps and she felt her stomach knotting up.

"Come on, come on," she told herself, as she climbed faster. "I've got to get out. I've got to get ... out... ."

She slipped and almost fell. She grabbed on to the rungs of the ladder and clung to it for dear life. She had to go on, but the panic was starting to overwhelm her, and if she gave in to it, she was liable to fall while trying to scamble madly down the ladder.

She took great, gulping, deep breaths, desperately trying to steady her screaming nerves. And then the lights in the tube flickered.

"Oh, no ..." she said.

They must have been doing something with the power down in Engineering. A moment pa.s.sed, and the lights flickered again.

"Please, no ..." she said.

And then the lights went out.

"No, no, nooooo ..." she wailed, as the darkness enveloped her. "No, please," she moaned. "Come on, come on, come back on, please... ."

But the darkness persisted. She began to whimper. She tried to will herself to move, but her fingers would not let go of the rungs. She was frozen with fear. The minutes pa.s.sed, and it grew worse and worse. She could feel the cold sweat trickling down her spine.

"Got to get out," she whispered. "Got ... to ... get ... out!"

With an effort, she managed to climb down another rung, but her entire body had started trembling violently.

"Come on," she urged herself. "Come on, you ... lousy ... d.a.m.n ... good for ... nothing ... coward... ."

She moved a little farther, but it was slow, agonizingly slow, going, and it was all she could do to keep herself from screaming. Too long. It was taking too long.

"Move it, Dorn!" she said, through gritted teeth. "Move it, d.a.m.n you!"

Little by little, she started making progress. But it was too slow, much too slow. It seemed like an eternity had pa.s.sed before the lights came on again. She sobbed with relief. And suddenly, the fear had left her. Just like that, it was gone. She started moving quickly once again, but she had no idea how much time had pa.s.sed. And as she clambered down the ladder to Deck 14, she thought about Riker and La Forge, and wondered how she would be able to live with herself if her fear resulted in their being caught.

"Ragnar, get the workbees ready for EVA," said Geordi. "We'll be going to shutdown in about five minutes. I've got to go check on the flow regulators in the horizontal intermix shaft. We want to make sure we're getting the same readings down here. I'll be back in time for shutdown."

"Right, Mr. LaBeau," said Ragnar, nodding. He raised his booming voice. "All right, workbee detail, report to landing bay and prepare for EVA!"

Geordi hurried out of Main Engineering and headed quickly down the corridor, not toward the horizontal intermix chamber, but in the opposite direction, toward the landing bay control room and the stairway down to Deck 17. He knew he had to move fast. He hoped Dorn had made it all right. She should already be there. But his main concern was for Riker. He hated leaving without him. But then, Riker might not make it. They both knew that. If he was captured, then Blaze probably wouldn't kill him. He'd know the message had gone out to the Enterprise and Riker would be valuable as a hostage. Geordi pushed the thought from his mind. Don't think about it, he told himself. Riker's gonna make it. He's got to.

He hooked his legs over the railings of the stairway and slid down to the lower landing, then slid down again to the lower deck. Moments later, he had reached the emergency transporter facility doors. He went inside. Dorn wasn't there. d.a.m.n, he thought. Where is she? He rushed over to the console and started to compute the transporter coordinates for the s.p.a.ceport on D'rahl. "Come on, Lieutenant, come on," he said, under his breath. He checked the time. Two minutes. Where the h.e.l.l was Dorn?

The coordinates were now locked in. All it took was throwing the switch to energize and they could be off the ship in seconds. But there was still no sign of Dorn. He waited, tensely, wondering what could have gone wrong. He didn't have any details working in the Jeffries tube that ran along the dorsal fin of the ship. If she was able to get out of sickbay and make it to the access hatch, she should have a clear shot all the way down to Deck 14. He had made sure there was no one working up them, so that she could get to the stairs that led down to the rear of the horizontal intermix chamber on Deck 15. From there, she just had to get through a short corridor to the stairs leading down to Decks 16 and 17. If she ran into anyone along the way, it would be there, but he had a.s.signed as many of the crew to EVA duty as possible, using the reasonable excuse that more personnel would get the job done faster, and everyone else would be tied up in Main Engineering. Should he risk going to check?

He was out of time. "Dammit," he swore. He couldn't leave without her. The moment he energized the transporter, it would show up on the bridge, and if she came in after him, they could alert the men in Engineering and catch her before she could beam down. Either they went together, or she would be left behind.

They would be starting the drive systems shutdown. There would still be power to the transporters, but by now everyone would be wondering where he was.What was keeping Dorn?

It was time. Riker locked out the bridge controls, keyed the transmit command, and then bolted through the doors, running at full speed. The sound of his running footsteps in the empty corridor alerted the man on duty in the transporter room and he came out almost as Riker drew even with the doors. Riker didn't even slow down. He smashed into the man at full speed, bowling him over, then paused only long enough to deliver a sharp blow to his jaw as he tried to get back up. He quickly checked to see if the unconscious man was armed. He wasn't. Riker swore and took off running once again.

They would be coming down from the bridge right now, and Riker knew there would never be enough time to enter one of the main transporter rooms and program the escape coordinates before they got to him. But the unconscious man lying in the corridor might buy him some time. They would a.s.sume that he had gone into one of the main transporter rooms, and they would check inside each one before they realized that none of the transporters had been activated. With luck, that would allow him enough time to get down to the horizontal intermix chamber. It was about to get real dicey.

If Blaze was smart, he'd leave someone behind in Auxiliary Control to remove the lockout on the bridge, and then they'd have access to the ship's PA. Unfortunately, there was no way Riker could disable it from Auxiliary Control. The best he could do was prevent them from using it up on the bridge. But as soon as the lockout was removed, they'd be able to get on the PA from auxilliary control. If Blaze figured out where he was going, he could alert the crew in engineering and there were two places where they could cut him off. If they came up the stairs forward of the landing bays, they could cut him off as he was coming through the horizontal intermix chamber. His only chance was to get through the chamber first. Otherwise, they could cut him off between the landing bay control room on Deck 15 and the emergency transporter on Deck 17, forward of the landing bay.

Riker was gambling that if they realized where he was headed, they'd figure on his taking the shortest and most direct route, down the stairs forward of the landing bay to the engineering deck, then along the corridor and down the forward stairs to Deck 17. Instead, he planned to race straight through to the landing bay control room at the extreme aft end of the ship, then down the stairs to Deck 17 and across the landing bay. If he could just manage to get through the horizontal intermix chamber before they cut him off, then he could flank them. They'd be coming up the stairs forward of the landing bay while he was coming down from the landing bay control room.

He gritted his teeth and tried to will the lift to move faster down the shaft. It seemed maddeningly slow. He was almost down to the level of Deck 14 when he heard Blaze's voice on the ship's PA echo throughout the shaft.

"Attention, all hands! Attention, all hands! Find and apprehend Stryker, LaBeau, and Thorn immediately! Repeat, find and apprehend Stryker, LaBeau, and Thorn immediately! Cut off all access points to the cargo bay transporter and the secondary hull emergency transporter facility! I want them alive! Repeat, I want them alive!"

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h!" swore Riker. He leaped off the lift as it approached the level of Deck 15 and dropped the rest of the way down.

He landed hard, rolled, and came up running, sprinting hard along the length of the horizontal intermix shaft. He had been a track star back in high school, but that was a long, long time ago and the doors at the other end of the chamber seemed impossibly far away. He pumped his arms and kicked hard, running all out and gasping for breath. Thirty more yards ... twenty ... ten ...

His shoulders barely cleared the opening doors as he plunged through. He heard shouts and running footsteps coming up the stairs from below. Another few seconds, and they would have cut him off. But all the noise they were making would easily drown out the sound of his running footsteps. He kept on going toward the aft end of the ship, got to the stairs at the landing bay control room, hooked his legs over the railings and slid down to the first landing, just as four crewmen were coming up from the floor of the landing bay. For a moment, they were startled as they saw him suddenly appear on the landing just above them, and Riker took advantage of that instant of surprise to launch himself in a headlong dive down the stairs, directly at them.

He hit the first man and they all went down like dominoes, tumbling in a heap to the floor of the landing bay below. Riker came up fighting. The man at the bottom caught the worst of it, and had apparently been knocked out. But that still left three others. The burly crewman Riker had struck first clamped his arms around him in a crushing bear hug. Riker b.u.t.ted him in the face with his head, breaking the man's nose. As the man let go and howled with pain, Riker rolled free. As he scrambled to his feet, so did the remaining two crewmen.

One of them came at him with a roundhouse right. Riker caught his wrist and, using the man's own momentum against him in an aikido move, sidestepped and flipped him over onto his back, breaking his wrist in the process. As the second man came rushing at him, Riker dropped to one knee and threw the man over his head. He landed hard, but as he came up, Riker was ready for him. He moved in quickly and grabbed the man's head as he was getting up, jerking it down sharply as he raised his knee to meet his chin at the same time. The crewman crumpled to the deck, unconscious.

As Riker turned to start across the wide expanse of the landing bay, he saw Katana standing in front of the doors across from him, holding a disruptor aimed straight at his midsection.

"Not bad, hotshot," she said. "But not good enough."

Riker simply stood there, breathing hard from his exertions, and his heart sank. There were at least twenty yards separating them. No chance of disarming her at all.

"My judgment must be slipping," she said, approaching him, the weapon dead steady in her hand. "I had you figured all wrong. So you're a Federation agent."

"I'm a Starfleet officer," said Riker.

"Is that right?" she said, coming closer at a leisurely pace. "So what's your real name, hotshot?"

"Commander William Riker, executive officer, U.S.S. Enterprise."

"My, my," she said, coming closer still, the disruptor never wavering for an instant. "And here I thought you were just a small-time hijacker and fraud artist. But a Starfleet officer ... Well, that'll work out just fine. They'll find you dead, and when the cloaking device fails at the crucial moment, Blaze will a.s.sume you must have done it."

Riker stared at her, and then it sank in. "So then it was you who misaligned the targeting system," he said. "It never was the gunner. You're the saboteur! You're working for the Romulans."

"You ought to thank me," she said. "If not for me, the Enterprise would have been taken out of action. But Kronak doesn't really need Blaze anymore. Or the Enterprise, for that matter. The game plan's changed. Either way, I still get paid."

"How do you figure on living to collect?" asked Riker.

"I've got my escape prepared," she said. "Too bad you're not going to make yours." Her gaze flicked quickly from him to the men lying unconscious on the deck and back to him again. "I've got to admit, you're pretty good. Let's see just how good you are."

And to Riker's amazement, she tossed the disruptor aside. He watched it fall and skitter across the deck, its impact-resistant casing preventing it from firing.

"There it is, hotshot," she said. "I'll be a sport. Let's see if you can get to it."

Riker lunged for the weapon, but the cybrid was faster. She cut him off and chopped out with her robotic arm. Instinctively, Riker went for an aikido move, but trying to capture and exert leverage on a metal joint was pointless. She reversed his grip neatly, breaking his hold in the process, and trapped his elbow, exerting pressure upward, against the joint. Riker grunted with pain, but before he could react with any move of his own, she slammed her fist into his stomach. The wind went whistling out of him. She released him and, at the same time, smashed him in the face with her natural hand. Riker staggered backward, feeling blood spurt from his cut lip.

She was fast, thought Riker as he backed away, fighting for breath, and she could punch like a prizefighter. But she was only playing with him. If she had hit him that hard with her robotic hand, she would have demolished his entire jaw. What was more, she could shoot him full of nightmarish narcotics with her built-in hyposprays, or else extend the needles from the fingernails of her other hand and give him a dose of bioengineered glandular secretions that would give him a cerebral embolism, fry his nerve synapses, and stop his heart, all at the same time. Only she wasn't going for it. That would be too easy.

"Come on, hotshot," she taunted him. "Let's see what you've got."

Still doubled over slightly, Riker suddenly dropped to the deck and swept her feet out from under her. As she fell, he c.o.c.ked his leg and uncorked a kick from p.r.o.ne position, straight at her head. Her neck snapped back with the impact, but she shook it off and kicked up to her feet, landing lightly. Riker barely scrambled up in time. Bad move, he thought. That alloy casing on her skull absorbed most of the impact. A head shot was not the way to bring her down. Go for the body.

As she swung, he ducked underneath the blow and hammered her with two hard, fast shots to the midsection, one to the stomach, one to the ribs. She grunted and straightened him out with an uppercut, then a shot to the chest with her metal hand. It felt as if he'd been hit with a sledgehammer. He was knocked about six feet backward, right off his feet. Those two blows to the midsection hadn't even slowed her down.

"Is that all you've got?" she mocked him, as he struggled back up, clutching at his chest. It felt as if at least three or four ribs were broken. "Come on!"

He suddenly realized they had gained an audience. Some crewmen had come down from the landing bay control room, behind him, and others came through the doors of the landing bay behind Katana. They started shouting encouragement to both of them. They wanted to see a fight. Well, he was just in the mood to oblige them. At least Geordi and Dorn had gotten clear.

She came at him, swinging. He slipped the first blow, ignoring the pain in his chest, and blocked the second, then drove a palm heel strike straight up into her jaw. As her head snapped back, he followed it up with a hard left to her chin, putting everything he had into the blow. She went down, but rolled as she fell and came back up again.

Gasping for breath, Riker rolled his eyes and shook his head with disbelief. What the h.e.l.l was she made of? He had given her his best shot. He had just about nothing left. She came at him again and he couldn't move fast enough to slip the blow. He tried a forearm block instead, and it felt as if his arm had come in contact with a wooden club. And then she let him have it with her metal hand, an openhanded swipe across his head. It knocked him sprawling.

It felt as if a gong had gone off inside his skull. His vision had gone blurry. He tried to get up, supporting himself with his hands, but she kicked him in the side and he went down again.

"Come on! Get up!" she shouted, over the din of the cheering crewmen.

Riker shook his head, trying to clear his vision. He blinked several times, and as his gaze slowly focused, he saw Blaze standing in front of the crowd near the entrance to the landing bay. To his despair, he saw Geordi and Dorn beside him, each being held by a couple of crewmen.

"Katana!" Blaze shouted.

She glanced back at him over her shoulder. The others all fell silent at the sound of their captain's voice.

"I want him alive," said Blaze.

"What for?" she said, and launched another kick at Riker. He saw it coming, but he couldn't get out of the way. He felt it connect and groaned with pain. He rolled over onto his back. His mind was screaming at him to get up, but his body simply would not obey.

"Back off, d.a.m.n you!" Blaze shouted. "He's had enough!"

"Not yet he hasn't," she said, raising her arm and extending the needles from her fingernails.

"Katana!"

Riker focused everything he had on trying to get up, but only managed to make it to his knees. And as everyone watched, distracted, Dorn suddenly broke away from the men holding her and launched herself at the cybrid with a scream. As Katana turned, Dorn leaped and brought her down. They both fell to the deck together, but Katana clamped her metal arm around Dorn's waist, rolled her over, and plunged her needles to the hilts into her neck.

"No!" Geordi shouted, struggling against the men who held him.

Dorn cried out and stiffened. Her eyes opened wide and her body jerked as Katana withdrew the needles. And then Dorn said something inaudible and spat directly in the cybrid's face.

As Katana got up, wiping her face with the back of her hand, Riker heard the high-pitched sound of disruptor cycling, and the cybrid suddenly became wreathed in light. An instant later, she was gone, disintegrated.

There was complete silence in the landing bay. Then Blaze spoke. "I said I wanted them alive."

Riker crawled over to where Dorn lay, her entire body spasming.

"I'm ... sorry, sir ..." she said, trembling violently and struggling to get the words out. "I ... guess I ... blew it... ."

Those were the last words she ever spoke. Riker put his head down on her chest and moaned.

"Help him up," he heard Blaze say.

He felt hands on him, lifting him to his feet. He felt his arms being draped over shoulders on either side, as he was supported between two men. He looked up and saw Blaze standing in front of him.

"I am genuinely sorry about that," Blaze said to him. "Katana disobeyed orders, and she paid the price."

"Is that supposed to make it even?" Riker said, weakly.