Picard shook his head gravely. "Arit, I do not know what has happened to your people because you've chosen not to tell me. Nor do I know what ordeals have caused this automatic mistrust of every stranger you meet. What I do know is this-your ship is in critical condition. For whatever my word may be worth to you, I promise that this offer of help will not lead to betrayal."

"Words," she said, without much conviction. "We've heard them before. They're as good as lies."

"Then let me put it to you this way. What have you got to lose? What is at stake here?"

Captain Arit stood and frowned, desperately searching Picard's eyes for truth. "Five thousand lives. The last of what we were ... what we are."

"All right," he said quickly, "you are certain to lose all that if you do nothing. Do you want to die in s.p.a.ce-on this ship-homeless?"

"We have a home," Jevlin spat. "This planet is our home. We can beam everyone down and-"

Picard silenced him with a glare. "You know as well as I do that you have neither the power nor the time to transport five thousand people."

"He's right about that, Jevlin," Arit said. "So answer his question. How much time until the core goes?"

"Cap'n-" Jevlin protested.

"Tell him!"

The ferocity of her order caught Jevlin by surprise and he fell back a reflexive step, his defiance wilting. "Thirty minutes ... maybe an hour."

Picard faced Arit. "If you are willing to guarantee safe pa.s.sage, I can have my engineer transport over here with a diagnostic team. Perhaps there's enough time to save the Glin-Kale." He knew if fate ever placed him in Arit's position, he would go to almost any lengths to preserve his ship and crew. As he searched her troubled expression for a sign, he could only hope that she shared this protective instinct he believed common to all ship commanders.

"And what conditions're you placing on this offer?" Jevlin demanded, his voice tight with suspicion.

"None. A simple truce-and we both lower our shields as a demonstration of good faith."

"Then how d'you know you can trust us? How d'you know we won't take you and your engineers and hold you?"

"I do not know for certain," Picard said with an unwavering gaze. "But I am willing to take that chance, Mr. Jevlin."

Captain Arit sank back into her seat again, her conflict showing all too clearly in her eyes. Then she swiveled away from Picard and Jevlin.

"Whatever you and your people have been through, it has obviously been a hard road," Picard said from behind her. "To have come all this way-only to fail here? Do you really want that to be your epitaph, Captain?"

She shut her eyes and covered her face with her hands. And she sat without a word. The confined bridge became silent as her officers awaited her decision.

"G.o.ds forgive me," she finally whispered. Then she turned, and stood face to face with Picard. "Help us, Picard."

Lieutenant Worf glanced up from the tactical console above and behind the command well of the Enterprise bridge. "Commander Riker, incoming message from the Glin-Kale. Visual signal."

Riker got up from the command seat. "Let's see it, Worf. Main viewer."

An instant after Riker's order, the deceptively tranquil face of Domarus was replaced on the viewscreen by the Teniran bridge-and the startling image of Captains Arit and Picard standing side by side, their faces and uniforms still smudged with dirt.

"Captain!" Riker blurted, relief and concern clashing in his voice. He sensed Worf leaning forward behind him, and knew the Klingon security chief would be more than a little anxious to get the captain safely back aboard the Enterprise.

"Number One," Picard said with an ironic nod of greeting. He was well aware of the shock value of his sudden-and bedraggled-appearance.

"Are you all right, sir?"

"Quite all right, Commander."

"Begging your pardon, sir-but what the h.e.l.l are you doing over there?"

"No time to explain now. Is Mr. La Forge there?"

Geordi strode down from the engineering alcove at the back of the bridge and joined Riker. "Right here, sir."

"Good. Commander La Forge, the Teniran ship is in critical need of engine repairs. I want you to transport over here with your best team of diagnostic propulsion experts-"

Riker took a step forward, his posture wary. "Captain, I don't know any way to say this except to be blunt. Are you being forced to make this request?"

"I am not a prisoner, if that's what you mean, Number One," Picard said, spreading his hands in a gesture of rea.s.surance. "I have no way to prove that to you, except to say that Captain Arit and I have agreed to a truce. All shields down. And, based on the condition of their vessel, I do not believe the Tenirans currently present a threat to the Enterprise."

"Mr. Worf," Riker said over his shoulder, without turning away from the big viewer, "confirm Teniran shield status."

"Their shields are down, sir," the Klingon rumbled.

Riker knew that tone of voice-Worf clearly did not trust the Tenirans and neither did he. What the h.e.l.l is going on here? He had no reason to disbelieve the captain's statement, but neither did he have any reason to accept it.

"Will," Picard said urgently, "I understand your skepticism, but there is no time to waste."

Orders or no, Riker wasn't ready to fold. "Captain, you've been missing for almost twenty-four hours-and now you turn up on the Glin-Kale, out of the blue, without explanation. We have no idea if you're under duress, or even brainwashed. Under these circ.u.mstances, it's my job to be skeptical, isn't it?"

"It is," Picard said, his jaw muscles twitching the way they did when he had to make a grudging admission.

"Captain, are you giving me a direct order to send Geordi over there?"

"No, Number One," Picard said, advancing toward the viewer. "I am not. Compliance with this request is entirely at your discretion."

With that reply, the tension in Riker's posture reduced a notch. But he still wasn't ready to comply. "Are you free to return to the Enterprise, sir?"

"I believe I am." Picard turned to Arit with an apologetic smile. "My first officer is ..."

"... obviously very well-trained and absolutely correct," Arit said with an understanding fraction of a smile. "Commander Riker, our need for a.s.sistance is all too real. Captain Picard's offer is entirely voluntary. And to answer your question, he is free to return to your ship. I'm sure you've confirmed that our defensive shields are down. If you need further proof, transport him back to the Enterprise now, if you wish."

"Captain Picard," Riker said, "stand by for transport."

Picard turned to Arit. "Captain, I will have our engineers here within five minutes."

"If you do, you do. If you don't, you don't," the Teniran said with a fatalistic shrug. "At this point, Captain, I have accepted our fate, whatever it may be."

With a grim frown, Picard turned back toward the viewer. "All right, Number One. Beam me over."

Riker called the transporter room. "Riker to transporter room. Chief O'Brien, do you have a lock on the captain?"

"Aye, sir," O'Brien replied. "Ready when you are."

"Stand by." Riker blew out an uneasy breath. "All right, Captain-I'm convinced. Geordi is on his way." As Riker spoke, La Forge was already rushing to the turbolift. "Which isn't to say I wouldn't prefer that you return to the Enterprise, sir."

"I am aware of your preference, Number One. But I believe I shall remain here. I think Captain Arit and I can put the time to good use."

"Lunchtime," Deana Troi called from the open shuttlecraft hatch.

Working at opposite sides of the cavern, Wesley and Gina picked up their tools and sample containers and converged on the ship. They climbed in, set their gear down and found Data and Troi in the aft cabin, waiting with small trays of heated rations.

"How would anyone know it's lunchtime?" Gina groused as she slid into a seat.

"It is twelve-hundred hours," Data said. "Is mid-day not the customary time for the mid-day meal? We are endeavoring to maintain a standard daily cycle."

Wesley shoveled a forkful of his food into his mouth. "I think Gina meant her question rhetorically, Commander."

"Don't tell me what I meant, Wesley! It's not day or night or anything down here and I-" She stopped abruptly and her eyes darted around the small cabin. "How come Kenny's not eating? What's he doing up there?" she said, nodding toward the c.o.c.kpit.

Troi rose to her feet, sudden concern clouding her dark eyes. "I didn't know he was in the shuttle. I thought he was outside with you."

"He was," Wesley said. "But I thought he came back into the shuttle."

Data stood amidships, looking into the command cabin up front. "He is not here."

He turned to see Troi opening the hatch and jumping down. He followed her out, as did Wes and Gina. With flashlights in hand, they fanned out to search the corners of the cave and the openings of several tunnels converging on the main cavern, calling Kenny's name.

But only the echoes of their own voices replied.

They met back at the shuttle hatch. "It would appear that he is no longer in this immediate vicinity," Data said.

Wesley kicked the ground, "d.a.m.n him! I can't believe he did this."

"Cannot believe he did what, Wesley?" asked Data.

"Went looking for a way out of here."

"What?" Gina blurted with a disbelieving laugh. "Mr. 'I Don't Wanna Be in Caves'? Go wandering off by himself?"

Her face grim, Counselor Troi looked hard at Wesley. "What makes you think he went to search alone?"

"He said it, but I didn't think he meant it. d.a.m.n him-I never thought he'd do anything so stupid. I am such a jerk!"

"Ensign," Data said, "exactly what did Ken say?"

"He said the only way Gina would ever notice him was if he saved us singlehandedly."

Gina reacted with embarra.s.sed amazement. "He said what?"

"I never thought he was serious," Wesley went on. "I thought it was just, y'know, guy talk."

"No, no, no," said Gina frantically. "You've gotta be wrong."

Wes sighed. "I wish I was."

The golden sparkle of energy alighted on the blossom of a tall flower swaying with thousands of others in the breeze that blew gently across the hilltop. Ko wanted to be alone to think.

But her crimson adversary appeared in a twinkle directly above her.:Your time is running out,: said Mog.

:It is not done yet,: said Ko, who then disappeared instantly in an angry yellow flare.

Mog fluttered down to the flower tops, disappointed that he had not had more of an opportunity to taunt Ko about her inevitable failure. If only he could make her see the truth and avoid all this. How could Ko or anyone else possibly believe that other life existed beyond the Great Darkness? If such beliefs were not profane a.s.saults on the Orthody, they would still be utterly preposterous fantasies. As the leader of those who opposed Ko's dangerous ideas, it was up to Mog to protect the World.

Perhaps he should never have agreed to give Ko even two cycles to try to communicate with these intruding things. Perhaps he should have just destroyed them as soon as he had discovered that Ko had s.n.a.t.c.hed them from the darkness and brought them within the World. He could still change his mind and do just that.

But Mog had to remind himself to be patient. Let Ko make her attempt. Let her discredit herself in front of all the Communion. That was the best way to a.s.sure that no others would soon try so brazenly to contradict the Orthody.

Then Mog could destroy the intruders and be done with them.

Chapter Ten.

ABOARD THE Glin-Kale, Arit paced the cramped office cubicle of her quarters while Picard sat at her desk and watched in silence. In theory, he had no trouble identifying with her conflict. He knew her driving motivation was the most basic instinct of all ship captains-to preserve their vessels and the people whose lives were entrusted to them.

He knew, too, that all captains also lived with an unspoken terror: having to face circ.u.mstances in which such salvation carried too high a price. Haunting every commander's nightmares, there were instances when his ship and those aboard her would have to be sacrificed in service to some higher principle or greater good. Since survival had to be the most ancient natural drive of living things, then overriding it had to be the most difficult task any sentient being would ever have to face.

And Picard had found himself in that most wrenching of positions on more than one occasion. He attributed the fact that he was still alive to contemplate the dilemma as much to good fortune as to his own skill and intelligence.

Theoretical empathy notwithstanding, however, Picard was unable to understand just why Arit had actually given serious thought to accepting the preventable destruction of the Glin-Kale and everyone aboard, rather than accepting help from the Enterprise. As long as the Tenirans refused to reveal the details of their plight, he could only guess. Their need to find a new home world was obviously urgent. Yet, something he could not see or grasp had nearly tipped the scales against basic survival.

Perhaps it was because he had no real idea of what it was like to be utterly homeless, adrift in the cosmos with no place to drop proverbial anchor. He recalled some history he'd read about the early days of travel outside the Terran solar system, when people from Earth were first able to journey so far from what had been the only home humanity had ever known. There'd been a movement to make "home" a vastly more expansive concept; star travelers were encouraged to think of home not as a country or region or town, but simply as Planet Earth (or Mars, or whatever station or moon they might have hailed from).

And it caught on, to some extent. But some people-Picard among them-resisted the loss of special ident.i.ty that went with knowing you were from one specific place. Though he'd be the first to admit he'd spent most of his youth doing everything he could to get away from his own hometown, even his home planet, Picard had never felt rootless. His s.p.a.ce travels had been by choice. And his ships had always served quite adequately as places to call "home" for as long as he served on them.

But, no matter how long he might be away, his real home would always be the house in the vineyards outside the sleepy French village of Labarre. Though he'd always made a point-perhaps too strenuously-to play the role of the contemporary man embracing the future and all it might offer, in sharp contrast to his adamantly archaic brother Robert, he had always been secretly grateful that someone had seen to it that the Picard homestead would remain a nearly unchanged oasis in time.

Picard had never felt that more keenly than on his most recent visit, just this past year, after recovering from his injuries sustained during the b.l.o.o.d.y encounter with the Borg. He hadn't been back to Labarre for almost twenty years ... twenty years during which Robert had married Marie, and had their son, Rene. Twenty years during which Picard himself had risen to command the first of the mightiest starships known to humankind.

And yet, there amidst all the change, was a place that had not changed at all. A place that had nurtured generations of Picards for more than a century. An old stone house with wide-plank floorboards and well-worn rugs that still offered a singular comfort he knew he could not, and would not ever, find anywhere else. Not that he needed to be there all the time, or even often. But he needed to know it was there.

The feeling it gave him was an old-fashioned one, perhaps even quaint, especially in an era when people seemed to pick up and move from one planet to another with so little provocation. And, given a choice, it was a feeling Jean-Luc Picard would not trade for anything else he had ever known.

Perhaps the only way he could truly understand the Teniran point of view would be to have all that taken away from him. In a way, then, it was a futile exercise to try to imagine how he would have reacted had he been in Arit's place. But he had always believed simple survival to be a priority that could open up quite a few possibilities. Nonexistence, after all, is a bit of a dead end, he thought, with a touch of gallows humor, and he was relieved that Arit had made the choice he believed he would have made.

"If there's a way to repair your engines, Commander La Forge will find it, Captain Arit," Picard said softly, doing his best to support her decision to accept help from the Enterprise.

"And what if there is no way to repair them? What happens then?" She stopped at an oval observation window and gazed out at the planet.