Wesley could see a parable coming, but he couldn't resist asking, "Why?"

"He's desperate to go into s.p.a.ce, see. But he's afraid that when it's time for him to enter Starfleet Academy he'll still be four years old. He won't understand anything, and he'll only come up to the other cadets' knees."

"Too soon to worry, huh?" Wesley said. He sat down across the table from La Forge and rested a cheek on his fist.

"That's what I think. By the time they give you a starship to command, you'll be ready. Starfleet doesn't give out Galaxy-cla.s.s starships like lollipops, you know."

Wesley watched the gently bobbing life-support indicators. La Forge was wrong. Wesley didn't know how to explain how important it was to know right now if he had any apt.i.tude for command. Important decisions had to be made about his life. Who wanted to wait till they were old before they found out if they were any good at a job they'd wanted all their life?

La Forge said, "What do you call this program of yours, Wes?"

Wesley shrugged and said, "Boogeymen."

La Forge smiled, and Wesley could not help smiling back.

The alarm Klaxon went off, and the calm computer voice said, "Intruder alert. Intruder alert. Please secure your area. Please secure your area. This is not a drill. Intru-" The computer voice was cut off.

"What the h.e.l.l?" said La Forge.

"What the h.e.l.l?" said Captain Picard when he saw Professor Baldwin's cabin. In front of him Lieutenant Worf only growled.

Chapter Three.

COMMANDER MONT lay on the deck with blood several shades lighter than human blood leaking out of him. There was quite a puddle already. Standing over him, still breathing hard, was Professor Baldwin. His new bush shirt was torn and his hair was mussed. He tossed the dagger he was holding to Picard. Picard caught it-by the hilt, thank goodness-and inspected it. The dagger was oddly shaped, covered with gems, and very sharp. He handed it to Worf, who said, "Axerii."

"Mont doesn't look Axerii," Picard said.

Dr. Crusher pushed past Picard and Worf and knelt next to Mont. She touched him here and there and aimed a medical tricorder at him, but even from where he was standing, Picard could tell he was dead.

"He's dead, Captain."

"Yes, yes. Would you care to explain what happened here, Professor?"

Professor Baldwin collapsed into a chair and let his hands dangle between his knees. While looking at the floor he said, "Shubunkin and Mont and I finished our first session a while ago. I was a little surprised when Mont came to my door, but he said he needed something cleared up right away. I let him in."

"Imprudent," said Worf.

"Yeah. As it turned out." He looked up. "The guy pulled a dagger on me. That Axerii dagger. Mont was in better shape than he looked, but while he was chasing me around the cabin I managed to sound the intruder alert. After he was dead it didn't seem relevant anymore, so I canceled it."

Troi had been correct. Mont had been hiding something, and apparently that thing was his ambition to murder Professor Baldwin.

Still kneeling, Dr. Crusher said, "Mont isn't human, Captain. His readings are Axerii."

"Just like the dagger," Worf said.

Crusher gently pulled away the b.l.o.o.d.y Starfleet uniform. Underneath, wherever they wouldn't show, were fine yellow feathers, now a sloppy mess. She said, "We'll probably find that his ears are artificial. Axerii don't have any, just ear holes."

Picard said, "Can you explain Mont's actions, Professor?"

Baldwin narrowed his eyes and glared at Picard. Picard stood up to the gaze, but remembered that only a few hours earlier Baldwin had told him he wanted to disappear because he had a lot of enemies. Picard had thought Baldwin was exaggerating. Perhaps Picard had been wrong. Baldwin's look softened, and he grinned as he shook his head.

Picard touched his insignia and said, "Number One?"

"Here, Captain."

"Commander Mont was apparently an Axerii a.s.sa.s.sin sent to murder Professor Baldwin. Inform Starfleet. If one mole has burrowed into the organization, there are sure to be others. And please extend my compliments to Counselor Troi. She was right about Mont."

There was a moment of silence. Picard imagined his first officer glancing around, taking in the new data, and nodding. "Aye, Captain."

"Mr. Worf, please inform Lieutenant Shubunkin that I would like to see him in my ready room."

"Aye, Captain."

"Come along, Professor."

Professor Baldwin followed Picard along the corridors of the Enterprise to the turbolift. The doors closed, Picard said, "Bridge," and the turbolift began to move. After listening to the whine of the machinery for a moment, he glanced at Baldwin and saw a little boy trying his best to appear contrite for having been caught with a handful of cookies. The performance was charming, but Picard was unwilling to be convinced. He felt his jaw tighten, and he took a deep breath to loosen it. He said, "You will have to make a full report eventually, Eric, but I confess that I am curious right now. What did you do to make the Axerii so angry?"

"You don't want to know."

"Don't play that game with me, Eric," Picard commanded. "I know it too well."

"Yeah." Baldwin frowned and said, "The Axerii and I were after the same thing: the mating ritual of the Yahk Shimash."

"I thought the Yahk Shimash were extinct."

The turbolift doors opened onto the main bridge. Picard stepped out and motioned Baldwin to follow. As he walked down the ramp to his ready room, Picard said, "Everything under control, Number One?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'll be expecting some visitors. Please hurry them along."

"Yes, sir."

In the ready room Picard requested two cups of hot Earl Grey tea from the food slot, gave one to Baldwin, and sat down behind his desk with the other. "You were saying?" said Picard.

Baldwin sipped his tea and said, "We thought the Yahk Shimash were extinct, too. But after I'd been on Shim for almost an entire local year, I found what must have been the last existing tribe. I spent a lot of time with them and found out what I wanted to know."

"Then the Axerii arrived."

"Bingo. They arrived and began spoiling everything by making enemies where I had made friends."

"That sounds like the Axerii."

"Yeah. So I talked them up until the Yahk Shimash were eager to give the Axerii a demonstration of the mating ritual, the least disgusting part of which is being buried up to the chin in a specially prepared dunghill."

Picard tried hard not to smile and failed.

Baldwin said, "The Axerii were not as amused as you are. But by the time they were married to one of the Yahk Shimash male-oids, I was gone." He scratched behind his ear and said, "I'd heard they were after me. You have any sugar for this tea?"

"Try the food dispenser." As Baldwin got up and asked the dispenser to produce some sugar, Picard said, "You don't seem nearly as worried about your real enemies as you did about the potential enemies you spoke of this afternoon."

Baldwin took a pinch of sugar from the bowl that appeared and said, "Those were just make-believe enemies. Being afraid of them is like being afraid of the bad guys in a holo. Almost entertainment, like. But"-he sat in his chair, sipped his tea, and smiled-"the Axerii are real. If I worried about them and others like them I'd be worrying all the time and going crazy because I haven't disappeared yet."

Picard was about to ask him if he still thought it necessary to disappear when the door chime twittered and instead Picard said, "Come."

Worf entered with Lieutenant Shubunkin, who stepped forward and said, "Am I under arrest, Captain?"

Picard glanced at Worf, who stiffened. People who didn't know him sometimes mistook Worf's forceful personality for belligerence. While he was not the p.u.s.s.ycat Tasha Yar had sometimes made him out to be, he was also not the undisciplined beast that others feared.

Trying to keep a straight face for Worf' sake, Picard said, "I'm sorry if Lieutenant Worf gave you that impression. I a.s.sure you he was escorting you for your own protection."

"Why would I need protection?"

Baldwin said, "Commander Mont is dead."

For the first time Picard saw Shubunkin's face go white. He asked what happened, and Picard explained, with the inevitable footnotes from Baldwin.

Shubunkin said, "It seems that Professor Baldwin is the one who needs the protection."

"Don't you have any enemies, Shubunkin?" Baldwin said.

"Of course. But they are academic enemies. Their weapon of choice is the scholarly paper, not the dagger."

"Let us hope you are correct," Picard said. "Working alone, Lieutenant, will you still be able to give Starfleet a preliminary report in two weeks?"

"Of course. Professor Baldwin's report on the d'Ort'd is quite complete and well organized."

"D'Ort'd?" Picard asked.

Baldwin set down his teacup and said, "That's as close as I can get to what the silver teardrop people call themselves. It probably means 'the people' or something like that. Most racial names mean that." As Baldwin got more excited, he began to outline big mountains with his hands. "As far as I can tell, the d'Ort'd take an entirely different approach to technology from the one taken by any members of the Federation. They speak of their machines the same way they speak of their bodies. I don't get it yet, but I will."

"We will," Shubunkin said.

"In two weeks?" Baldwin said and laughed.

Picard said, "Despite your a.s.surances, Lieutenant Shubunkin, you and Professor Baldwin will both be covered by round-the-clock security, starting now." He nodded at Worf, who nodded back.

"Two weeks," Baldwin said again and shook his head.

Shubunkin attempted to look una.s.sailable.

That evening at dinner, Wesley went over the day in his mind. It had been a great day. He'd learned about the Borders scale from Lieutenant Shubunkin, Data had helped him write the Boogeyman program, and Geordi had guided him through the installation process. Wesley could almost feel the Boogeymen lying in wait inside the holodeck computer. He chuckled evilly.

"What's that?" Dr. Crusher said.

"Nothing, Mom," said Wesley, embarra.s.sed.

"You're very quiet. Except for the melodramatic grunting."

"Sorry. I was just thinking."

"You're always just thinking. About what in particular this time?"

"It's kind of personal."

"I'm your mother."

Dr. Crusher looked at him over her salad with such intensity that Wesley had to smile. She was his mother and a good doctor, but no commander. Would she understand his preoccupation with leadership ability? Hoping for the best, he said, "I've been using some Starfleet training programs on the holodeck," and went on from there. It seemed pointless to hide anything from her anyway. As a mom, Beverly Crusher could sometimes sense things that escaped even Counselor Troi.

Wesley was pleased to see how seriously his mother took his problems. When Wesley finished, she nodded, her lips pursed, a faraway look in her eyes. She said, "I'll bet you'd learn a lot more if somebody was there when you made a mistake."

"I've studied the books. You can't get the stuff I want to learn out of books."

"Not a book mistake. An experience mistake." Dr. Crusher became excited by her own idea. "I'll bet Captain Picard would join you on the holodeck."

"The captain's awfully busy," Wesley said, visions of Picard's disapproving expression dancing in his head.

"Nonsense," Dr. Crusher said. "A robot freighter could do the run between here and Memory Alpha."

"I don't think this is a good idea."

"You don't want me to speak with him?"

This entire line of discussion made Wesley very nervous. He knew the captain was not comfortable around children, and for all that the captain had made him a real ensign instead of just an acting one, Wesley knew that Picard still considered him a child. A large child. A smart and dependable child. But a child nonetheless. Wesley said, "Talk to him if you want to. Just don't tell him it was my idea."

"Of course not," Dr. Crusher said. "I want the credit."

For the rest of the meal, Wesley managed to direct the conversation away from his activities on the holodeck.

The next day as Wesley's watch on the bridge came to an end, the captain appeared at the ready room door and beckoned him inside. When the captain was settled behind his desk, he said, "Dr. Crusher tells me that you've been running the Starfleet training programs on the holodeck."

Wesley suddenly felt icy. There were no regulations against what he was doing. He'd checked. Still, he might have missed something. "Yes, sir."

"Have you run the Kobayashi Maru scenario?"

"No, sir." Wesley had never heard of it.

"It's quite a pretty problem, really. Starfleet used to run it with the Klingons. The most recent versions use Romulans or Ferengi, sometimes both together. Shall we give it a try?" Picard seemed enthusiastic, as if this would be as big an adventure for him as for Wesley.

"Sure. I mean, yes, sir." Somehow they had gone from an abstract discussion of Wesley's use of the holodeck to the very practical consideration of whether Captain Picard would join him. How did you say no to the captain? Did Wesley even want to try?

Wesley followed Captain Picard through the bridge and into the turbolift. Data slid in with them just before the doors closed.