"Why is the Teniran Echelon so interested in this particular planet?"

"That is none of your business either. Arit out."

The screen went abruptly blank, leaving Picard to swallow his next sentence. "Blast," he muttered, then turned toward Dr. Crusher, who'd been sitting across from him during the whole exchange. "Not my best diplomatic work."

Beverly managed a sympathetic smile. "She wasn't exactly receptive."

"I'm baffled by this intense desire to possess a world of no great value. What do you make of it, Doctor?"

"I'm not Deanna, Captain."

"I don't expect Betazoid empathic powers," he said kindly. "But I value your observations all the same."

Beverly frowned as she tried to make sense of what they'd heard from the Teniran commander. "Well ... it was pretty obvious that Captain Arit is hiding the reasons why the Tenirans are so interested in Domarus. She seemed afraid of something."

Picard nodded. "I agree. But afraid of what? Of us?"

Crusher's brow creased thoughtfully. "I can't put my finger on it, but I think it's more than just us."

"Some unseen adversary, perhaps."

She shrugged. "I wish I knew ..."

As her voice trailed off, Picard saw the worry in her eyes, and knew the rest of her unspoken thought-I wish I knew what's happened to my son.

"Thanks for your help, Beverly," he said as she got up.

"I'd better be getting back to the lab. We're starting to make some real progress on this ridmium poisoning case."

"Oh? That will be good news for the Chezrani accident survivors. Keep me posted." As he watched her leave, Picard wondered if this medical challenge would provide a much needed distraction for his chief surgeon, forcing her to think about something other than Wesley and the missing away team. Perhaps, but he knew such distractions were only momentary at best.

Left alone, Picard combed through the computer for all available sc.r.a.ps of information on the Tenirans. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to find. The Teniran homeworld was located far from any Federation systems, and contacts had been limited to sporadic trade. Beyond that, there were few specifics. No record of how many planets or outposts were counted as part of the Teniran Echelon. No historical background. Nothing to give Picard even the slightest hint of what might have brought this one Teniran vessel to an unprepossessing planet so far from home, and what could have compelled its captain to bully a defenseless shuttlecraft.

The door chime interrupted Picard's musing and Commander Riker entered from the bridge. "Captain, I think it would be useful to beam down for a close look at the Onizuka's base camp."

Picard stood, his jaw tightening at Riker's suggestion. "Under the circ.u.mstances, I'd prefer not to lose any other crew members in Domaran limbo."

"And I'd prefer not getting lost," Riker said with a gallows grin. "But there may be some hints we just aren't picking up on long-range scans. I'd like Geordi with me-maybe he can see some other pieces to this puzzle."

Picard's expression made it clear he'd rather not authorize this away-team mission, if only he could think of an alternative entailing less risk. He couldn't. "All right, Number One. But make this visit as brief as possible."

If Will Riker had ever wanted to be anything but an explorer, he had long since forgotten those other dreams. Nothing had ever caught his fancy so much as the idea of going places no one had ever been, seeing wonders no one had ever witnessed before. Not that he'd been a thrillseeker or a daredevil. Quite the opposite, in fact. Even as a kid, when his friends had wanted to march boldly onto glaciers or dive headlong into unknown seas or descend into the damp darkness of caves, Will had usually been the one to make sure they were prepared and equipped for all eventualities.

The responsible one ... the one who planned, and packed their gear ... the confident front man whom the others relied upon to a.s.suage the trepidations of dubious parents eager to keep their sons and daughters home and unscathed, knowing all the while that these children needed to explore before they could grow up. The responsible one.

Of course, none of those childhood exploits had ever taken Will and his friends into the real unknown. The glaciers and caves and oceans of their adventures were, after all, usually in parks. But each autumn, fresh snows magically transformed the familiar Alaskan landscape that made up their backyard into wilderness as pristine as before the first human visitors had left their footprints in ancient snows, and that might have been enough to fire the imaginations of young boys and girls as they set out on their expeditions of discovery.

In time, though, they had all realized the truth. They had only been going where they had not gone before, as they followed the daring footsteps of generations of children before them. By the twenty-fourth century, there may have been a few dangerous places still left on Earth, but no unknown places. The real unknown, the infinite unknown, lay out in s.p.a.ce.

For Riker, that path had been the only choice possible. And by now, years of experience had forced him to learn harsh lessons about the dark side of exploration. By definition, the unknown was also unpredictable. No matter how careful, how skilled, how prepared, no explorer could antic.i.p.ate all eventualities. No mission was totally without dangers, and those dangers impossible to foresee were often the nastiest of all.

The field excursion to Domarus Four had seemed about as close to risk-free as anything could be in this business. Riker hadn't had any special misgivings about sending the shuttle off on its own. But maybe he should have.

Maybe there was some warning sign I overlooked, he thought as he strode into the transporter room, with Geordi a step behind. Maybe I should have known ...

Chief O'Brien stood behind the console as they mounted the steps to the transporter chamber. "Just the two of you, eh? Traveling light, I see," he quipped.

"Short trip," Riker said, without even a trace of his usual confident grin, though he did appreciate O'Brien's attempt to reduce the tension. It was one of the transporter chief's most valuable traits.

"I guess there won't be any time to pick up some souvenirs for us, then?"

La Forge managed a gallows smile. "You never know. Maybe there'll be a convenient tourist trap."

"Energize," Riker said.

O'Brien activated the unit and two solid bodies began to shimmer.

On the bridge, Picard sank back into the firm contours of his command seat, thinking about the time he'd spent-wasted-trying to dig up nonexistent facts on the Tenirans. Normally, he'd simply have asked Data, and the android would have responded instantaneously. Did I take Data for granted? He was so- Picard cut short the thought. My G.o.d, I'm thinking of him in the past tense. I will not do that until- "Captain," Worf said sharply. "Those energy patterns-"

On the main viewscreen, Picard and the rest of the bridge staff saw colorful tendrils dancing and darting outside the Enterprise, and around the Teniran vessel, too.

Two shafts of sparkling transporter energy touched the gra.s.sy ground of Domarus Four. As they solidified into Riker and La Forge, they were wrapped in a cloud of shifting colors. At the moment they completed transport, the mystified officers heard a vague and distant sound, like dissonant chimes. An instant later, the sounds and colors faded quickly away.

Picard stood close to the large viewscreen, staring out in a mixture of wonder and concern as the swirls of energy pinwheeled around the Enterprise-though apparently causing no damage, and barely registering on sensors.

"What the devil," Picard muttered. "Lieutenant Worf, report."

"It is the identical energy pattern as before, Captain, surrounding the ship-both ships."

Before Worf could continue, the shifting veil of colors burst into a spray of glittering particles and faded as suddenly as they'd appeared. Picard was on his feet, facing his security chief.

"Lieutenant, if that was energy, why didn't our shields activate automatically?"

"I do not know, sir. I will run a diagnostic scan of shield and sensor systems immediately." Worf paused. "Message from the away team, sir."

"On audio."

"Captain," Riker's voice said over the speaker, "we just saw the d.a.m.ndest thing."

Picard listened to Riker's report, intrigued by the coincident similarities. "As you were beaming down, Number One, we saw those same energy patterns out in s.p.a.ce, around both ships."

"And then they just disappeared?"

"Just like some sort of cosmic Cheshire cat."

"Hmm. I don't think I like the sound of that, Captain," Riker said, a telltale grimness in his voice. "We'll make our visit to Wonderland as brief as possible. Riker out."

"Captain," said Worf, "the Tenirans are hailing us."

Picard remained standing. Sometimes he simply felt more authoritative that way. "On screen, Lieutenant."

Once again, the unsmiling face of Captain Arit replaced Domarus Four on the main viewer. "Picard, we know that you have beamed people down to our world without permission, and we warned you that-"

"This debate is getting tiresome, Captain Arit. We do not acknowledge the validity of your claim."

"This hostile act will not be tolerated."

"Our away team is not hostile, Captain," Picard said forcefully, centering himself under the bridge's transparent dome. "We are searching for clues to the whereabouts of our shuttlecraft-"

"Which disappeared from s.p.a.ce, not the planet. You have no right to-"

"We have every right to pursue all possibilities that may present themselves in our search ..."

"Not on our planet," Arit shot back.

She continued her lecture, but Picard's attention drifted from the viewscreen as he felt a sudden tingling sensation, like p.r.i.c.kly feathers brushing against bare skin. Then he saw a tentative curl of color appear inside the bridge, just fluttering in mid-air as if trying to decide what to do next. As before, it didn't remain a single color long enough to be labeled as red or blue or any other definite shade. As it changed continuously, it also grew, spiraling slowly around the circ.u.mference of the bridge.

"... and a Teniran security squad will beam down and take custody of your away team," Arit went on, though Picard was barely listening now.

As the multicolored whorls wafted about him, he heard the same random tinkling Riker had described encountering on the planet. "Worf, internal sensor scan," he murmured. Then he deftly replied to Arit's threats without missing a beat-fully aware that as he spoke, the intensity of the sounds and colors increased. "Do not challenge the Enterprise, Captain. Domarus may not be uninhabited, and we will not permit the taking of hostages in your attempt to-"

"What is that? Jevlin-what-what is it?" Arit said, her own attention now clearly distracted from her sparring with Picard. "Enterprise, if this is an attack-"

"I a.s.sure you-we are not attacking your ship."

Without warning, the colorful swirls deepened, thickened and blew into a vortex around Picard.

Worf's eyes grew wide. "Captain!" Paying no heed to Arit's frantic threat of retaliation coming through the comm speaker, Worf vaulted the railing, his muscular body stretched out in a headlong dive, hoping to wrench Picard free of the inexplicable force surrounding him. But before the security chief could reach him, the vortex and Picard disappeared in a scintillating haze.

With a grunt, Worf landed hard on the deck, rolled quickly and saw that he'd failed. He felt a bellow of frustrated rage welling up from his gut-and forced it back just as he realized that he was now in command.

Chapter Four.

WORF SCRAMBLED to his feet, trying to control the torrent of anger and shame he felt rushing through him like a storm-driven tide.

"Enterprise! Enterprise! What have you done with Captain Arit?"

As he heard this new and panicky voice squawking from the comm speaker, Worf willed himself to concentrate and take its measure-male, but not at all commanding ... filled with fear.

As security chief, his instincts as a natural warrior could be permitted freer reign. But if he'd learned anything from his time in Starfleet, the role of successful commander required more nuance, the sort of thing that went against his hereditary impulses. But nothing he couldn't handle.

"Enterprise," the voice repeated, with no less breathless hysteria, "what have you done with-"

"This is the Enterprise," the big Klingon said as he settled into the captain's empty seat, his voice low and deliberate. "Identify yourself."

"Jevlin, first officer of the Glin-Kale-my captain was talking with Picard-just talking. Then those colors-they-they filled our bridge-and then she was gone. What did you do?"

"Interesting. But we have done nothing with your captain. Enterprise out." Then, maintaining his calm demeanor, Worf called the away team. "Commander Riker, the captain ... has vanished, just like the shuttlecraft."

"Dammit. Beam us up now, Worf."

In all the years since he'd given up the fiery pleasures of peroheen wine, there'd been more than a few times when Jevlin had found his resolve weakening. On more than a few occasions, he'd been so tempted to seek solace in a bottle that he could feel that old familiar burning down his throat despite being nowhere near a drink.

But he'd never felt that way more than now. And he found himself in Arit's cabin-good thing she didn't let me fix that door or I might not've been able to get in-holding the same bottle she'd been holding earlier. He noticed it was considerably closer to empty than the last time he'd seen it, and that hadn't been so long ago. Whatever else they say about the cap'n, she sure could hold her wine.

The sound of footsteps in the doorway startled him and he nearly dropped the bottle.

"I want my mother to come back, Jevlin," said a small, composed voice.

Jevlin didn't move, and he squeezed his eyes closed. He didn't want to face Captain Arit's little girl. Then he felt a hand resting firmly on his shoulder.

"You miss her, too, don't you," said Keela.

With a sigh, the grizzled old officer put the bottle down and turned to face the six-year-old. "Yes, Keela, I do." He rubbed his own rheumy eyes as he noticed that hers were clear and wide.

"Have you been crying?" she asked. She formed her words with the precocious precision of a child more accustomed to conversation with adults than with her peers.

"No," he said, more gruffly than he'd intended. "Well ... almost ... maybe a little. Have you?"

Her lower lip quivered for a moment, revealing one tiny juvenile fang. The one on the other side had fallen out recently. "No ... mother wouldn't want me to." She pointed at the bottle. "Is that juice? Can I have some?"

Jevlin coughed out a short chuckle. "Uhh-no, it's not juice. How do you know your mother wouldn't want you to cry?"

"Because I'm the captain's daughter. I have to be strong like her. And she's told me she might die someday, like father did on Ziakk Five. We all might. It's just the way things are."

"They are, are they?"

Keela nodded, the downy forelock of her mane falling across her brow. She brushed it away. "That's right. Mother said it's nothing to be sad about. She said we've lived a hard life and dying might be better."

"Oh, she did, did she?" Jevlin huffed, making no attempt to hide his annoyance. "Well, your mother's too much of a fatalist, if you ask me."

The little girl c.o.c.ked her head. "What's a fatalist?"

"That's someone who believes the worst will happen, no matter what."

Keela shoved her way into his lap. "Do you think mother is dead?"

The direct innocence of the question sliced through to Jevlin's heart. He felt his eyes misting and he struggled to retain control. "Uhh-that's some question, Keela. I-uhh-I'm not sure."

"Are you a fatalist then?"

He looked into Keela's preternaturally solemn eyes. "No, no, I'm not," he said softly. "And I do think your mother is alive."