The facilitator blinked again. "You mean-"

Riker grinned widely. "That's right."

"Wonderful!" the facilitator said, genuinely pleased. "Well, of course I'll help. This is a very, very special day for you two. I'm just sorry your distributor failed. What a time for that to happen!"

"Don't we know it," Riker said ruefully. "Anything you can do-"

"-will be done. Don't give it another thought. Now let me see." The facilitator put a finger to his lips and squinted at Troi, who tried to relax and look pleasant. "I think I know what I want to do," the facilitator finally said, "but it'll take a bit of programming."

"We wouldn't want to put you to any trouble," Riker said hastily.

"No trouble at all," the facilitator said. "First, I'll need some basic patterns. You'll both need a lot of red, of course. That bin over there should have a few things I can work with. Excuse me. I'll be right back." He walked quickly toward the other end of the stall.

"Will?" Troi whispered. "What are you two talking about?"

"I have no idea," Riker replied pleasantly, "but it's our very, very special day, and we're getting exactly what we need-or at least I hope we will. Just play along."

The Krann woman in dark dress came over to them. "I couldn't help but overhear," she said. Clearly, she was pleased for them. "The lists are just so long, and especially at a time like this-well, you're fortunate people, you two. You and your spouse must be very happy."

"We are," Riker said. "Aren't we, dear?"

"Oh, ecstatically," Troi agreed.

"Bet you can't wait for all this to be over, eh?" the Krann male with her said. He winked at Riker.

"Uh, right," said Riker.

"Permit us to introduce ourselves," the man said, bowing slightly. "I am Kerrn Starboard Atmosphere Monitor. This is my spouse, Nawha Starboard Gas a.n.a.lyzer."

"As you can see, Kerrn and I have a lot in common," Nawha said.

Riker bowed and identified himself. "Dex Portside Sanitation Systems Supervisor. This is my spouse, Pralla Portside Consumables Monitor."

"Ah," Nawha said. "You have a lot in common, too."

"Like attracts like, I suppose," Troi said. "We're very pleased to meet you."

"A pleasure to encounter you," Kerrn said. He bowed again, this time more deeply, and Nawha followed suit. "We're honored by your presence here," he continued. "Supervisory personnel usually don't frequent this corridor."

"I think we might have been missing something," Riker said, making a show of looking around. "This is a very pleasant place."

"Well," said the facilitator, coming back, "my little pavilion here does try to give the best service in this entire module, and word does get around." He held up something that looked very much like a skirt that had been splattered with fifteen colors of paint and smiled. "What do you think?" he said, sure of an enthusiastic response.

"Perfect!" Nawha said, clapping her hands together. "Pralla, he's found the very thing!"

"Oh, I agree," Troi replied enthusiastically. "It's perfect! Now what could possibly go with it-?"

"Well, I'll take care of that, "the facilitator said. "If you'll just come back this way-?"

"I just don't understand fashion," Kerrn said as the facilitator led them all toward the other end of the stall. "Just give me a simple nine-color outfit suitable for any occasion, and I'd be out of here before the old one hit the recycler. Can't stand shopping, myself. Know anything about floatball, Dex?"

"Haven't been following it lately, no," said Riker. "I've been too busy lately. Used to be a big sports fan, though." He watched as Troi stood on a small platform at the back of the stall. There was a gentle hum as bright lights bathed her from above and below. The facilitator then entered a series of numbers onto a touchpad set into the wall, using some sort of tag on the fifteen-color skirt as a reference. He then punched in another series of numbers without referring to anything at all, entering the digits and commands as if by instinct.

"Well, we're all set," the facilitator said, pleased. "I've added a few excusable frills, purely in the spirit of the day." After a moment, a small display lit up next to the touchpad. It showed a miniature female figure draped in the outfit that had just been designed by the facilitator. The outfit looked like something designed by a Highlander on hallucinogenics, but here, among the Krann, it seemed to represent the height of fashion.

"Rosco, you are a genius!" Nawha cried. "It's just the thing! Pralla, Rosco's outdone himself, don't you think?"

"Oh, yes," Troi said as enthusiastically as she could. "I've never seen anything like it. And so effortlessly, too!"

"Well, now," the facilitator said modestly. "Mustn't give me my own boat just yet, you know."

Kerrn and Nawha laughed, and Riker and Troi joined them close behind.

"I take it, then, that you like it?" the facilitator asked Troi. "Do you wish to order this ensemble?" His hand hovered near the touchpad.

"Can we think about it?" Riker asked quickly. "I mean, this is our special day."

"Well, yes, it is," Rosco said, a hint of huffiness coming into his voice, "and it's not getting any younger, you know. Why, it's almost celebration hour."

"What's the problem?" Kerrn asked, puzzled. "He's done the work."

"Well, we need to talk it over anyway," Riker insisted gently. "It's beautiful work, Rosco. You can be proud of it. Very proud indeed."

"We'll be back soon," Troi said.

Rosco pursed his lips. "Return here or not, it doesn't matter," he said haughtily. He punched a series of commands into the touchpad, and the display went blank. "I've randomized the design, and I shan't recreate it. Go somewhere else if you need such services today." He waved them out of his stall. "Please leave. Go. Have a good watch, but go."

"We're leaving," Riker said abruptly. "Good-bye to you, Kerrn, Nawha."

"Er, good-bye, you two," Nawha said for both of them. She seemed as puzzled as her spouse.

Riker and Troi left the stall and began walking up the concourse.

"I don't understand," Kerrn said to Nawha as they watched them go. "Did we offend them somehow?"

"Supervisors," Rosco sniffed. "Came down here to slum, I think, and have a little fun with us. Well, we don't need that kind around here. We work hard, and we plot a direct course. Not like them." He shook his head sadly. "I've never had this kind of thing happen to me in my entire life. Shows you what the fleet's coming to, so close to planetfall. There are no standards anymore." He paused and then, with an effort, brightened. "Well, then," the facilitator said pleasantly. "What can I do for you good people?"

The first thing Riker and Troi noticed as they walked down the concourse was that there were now a good many more Krann dressed in dark clothing.

"I've got it," Troi said. "The dark clothing is a standard work uniform. Remember what Nawha said about coming off shift a little early? Apparently the shift she was talking about is over now. That explains why the same dark uniform was all we saw people wearing in the hospitality module. Everyone there was at work."

"We'll blend in a lot better now," Riker said. "I'm glad we weren't breaking some sort of taboo."

"There may be taboos to break, Will. It seems to me that these people have a love of ritual costuming. For instance, according to Ros...o...b..ck there, we're supposed to wear 'a lot of red' for whatever celebration we're supposed to be celebrating today. Not many people are, though."

"d.a.m.n," Riker said. "I wish we hadn't offended that shopkeeper. He'd done us no harm, and he'd gone to some trouble for us. We insulted him somehow without realizing it."

"And we shocked Kerrn and Nawha, too," Troi pointed out. "I don't know what we did. Whatever it was, it must have been quite a gaffe."

"Perhaps Rosco thought we were questioning his skill somehow," Riker said. "We didn't let him deliver the goods. I had to get us out of there, though. He'd already scanned you-to get your sizes, maybe. I thought some sort of an ident.i.ty check must be coming up next, and we're a little shy of proper ID right now. I also didn't know how we'd pay for the clothes or Rosco's services-or even if we had to, for that matter. Leaving seemed to me to be the wisest course. I don't know what else we could have done."

"I thought we were doing rather well up to that point, considering we didn't know what anyone was talking about," Troi said. "Today is our 'special day.' I wonder what the occasion is supposed to be."

Riker shook his head. "Believe me, I wish I knew. At first I thought that they took us for an engaged couple who'd set the date, but then they seemed to expect you to be my wife-or spouse-already, and so I played it that way. At first Rosco was showing both of us the general merchandise he had to offer, and then he started concentrating on the way you were supposed to look for your special day." He smiled. "My guess is that they thought we'd just found out that you're pregnant. Anyway, I tried to act like a proud papa, and they all accepted it."

"Pregnancy was my first guess, too, but it just doesn't fit," Troi said. "Why is everybody celebrating today? Look around, Will. Everybody's happy. Couples are going here and there, arm in arm and hand in hand, but it's clear that some people are happier than others." She indicated a couple walking together a few meters away, seemingly in their own world, holding each other closely. "See? Their celebration is a special one, a celebration within a celebration. Even the single people are happy, Will, and they have no obvious reason to be. It's a holiday of some sort, an important one, and it can't be because everybody got pregnant on the same day. To belabor the obvious-and no pun intended, Will, so don't you go smirking at me-humanoids don't work that way. We're still missing the point of all this."

"Maybe they're happy they're about to invade Nem Ma'ak Bratuna," Riker guessed. "After all, they've been waiting to do so for a pretty long time. Whatever celebration we're supposed to be having might just happen to coincide with this larger celebration by the Krann of their impeding victory."

"I think they'd be off somewhere preparing for the invasion, in that case," Troi remarked. "They should be off practicing their s.p.a.ce raid drills or something. Surely they wouldn't be here, enjoying themselves."

"Not everybody fights in a war," Riker pointed out.

"True, but these people don't look like they're even expecting one," Troi said. "There should be an element of sobriety in a wartime population, a bit of reserve, and there just isn't one here. Maybe that's what's bothering me. It just doesn't jibe, Will." She sighed in frustration. "I wish I were able to read them. I hate being blind."

"Hold on a second," Riker said, interrupting her. "See that? The hatchway over there?"

"Certainly." There was an uncharacteristically wide hatch set into the wall between two stalls. It was closed, and there was a guard standing in front of it. Unlike the other hatchways they had seen, this one was not marked in any way. Indeed, the door and collar had been painted the same color as the wall to either side in an effort to make the hatchway blend into its surroundings.

"It looks to me as if it might lead into the gray area," Riker said.

"The guard has a weapon," Troi pointed out.

"I don't intend to do anything right now," Riker told her. "There may be another way in, further on-but I think we're getting warm. Let's keep looking around."

Data and Ro had been beamed into an alley between two small buildings located not very far from Government House. The first thing they noticed was the smell.

"Interesting," Data said, sniffing.

"Awful," Ro replied, looking around at the trash. "It smells like the plumbing's backed up. At least the weather's been cold. That should help to keep the stink down. Of course, I've been in worse places."

When the Lethanta had learned that Picard was sending observers to the Krann, they had all but insisted that he send observers to their planet as well. For the moment, the impending war seemed limited to a battle of openess, which, Data thought, was the only kind of battle he could whole-heartedly support.

"We did not see any such acc.u.mulations of detritus on our way to Government House," Data said. "I am sure I would have noticed them."

Ro nodded. "You were given the grand tour, Commander," she said. "They weren't likely to take you on the garbage run. But one dirty alley does not a civilization make. Shall we-?"

"Of course." They walked together to the mouth of the alley and stepped onto the narrow street beyond.

Data and Ro were dressed in nondescript outfits designed to allow them to blend in with the rest of the Lethantan population. Beverly Crusher had altered their appearances. Ro Laren had needed little cosmetic work, as her hair, eye, and skin colors were already compatible with the Lethantan mainstream. The bridge of her nose had been smoothed out and her eyebrows corrected slightly, and she had been given a haircut. She thought she looked odd, but not nearly as odd as Data.

Data looked like a human male built along terrestrial lines. While the Lethanta came in the wide range of colors and body types typical of humanoid races, it had been faster and easier for Dr. Crusher to make Data look like a terrestrial Caucasian, and so that was what she had done. Data's skin color and texture had been changed, and his eyes were now a warm brown. He had also been given the receding hairline possessed by many Lethantan males of Data's apparent age, and what hair he still had was cut and combed into an agreeably Lethantan style.

Back in sickbay, Ro had watched as Data had taken a hand mirror and studied his new face this way and that for a long, long moment right after Beverly Crusher had finished with him. No one, not even the captain, had said a word. Then the android had blinked, set the mirror down, and gotten on with the business at hand.

The street they were walking on was fairly nondescript. Low, decrepit-looking buildings lined it on both sides, and there was trash scattered everywhere. There were a number of people walking about, but no one seemed to be going anywhere special. A few were standing around talking. There was no vehicular traffic, but the curbside was almost solid with parked ground vehicles in various stages of disrepair. Off in the distance, there was the raucous sound of several people yelling curses and threats at each other, and then there was the sudden sound of breaking gla.s.s, and then silence.

"I think these buildings might be dwellings," Data said. "Because of the number of people standing nearby, however, I am not free to use my tricorder to prove or disprove my theory."

"Don't worry about it, Commander," Ro said. "They are. I know a slum when I see one."

"'Slum'?" The android thought about it. "Ah. I understand. You look thoughtful, Ensign. Might I inquire-?"

"Hmmm? Oh. Probably nothing, Commander." Ro shook her head. "Something we saw back there was bothering me, that's all. Something that didn't fit somehow, something that didn't seem right. I just can't put my finger on it."

"I understand. Please inform me if you do." They walked on and soon rounded a corner that opened onto a wide boulevard.

"Do you see what I see?" Ro asked.

"It would be quite difficult to overlook it," Data said.

The buildings along the boulevard were much taller, and a huge sign had been strung across the full forty-meter width of the busy boulevard between two of them. The banner was made of a light, strong, and utterly white fabric that billowed in the wind like the sail of a gigantic schooner, and on its face it bore a single word in blazing red letters five meters tall: PREPARE!.

"I don't think we have to wonder much about what we're supposed to 'prepare' for," Ro said dryly. "At least we know that the presence of the Krann in this system is no secret to the populace." She looked down the boulevard. "That big building in the distance is Government House, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is."

Ro nodded. "This avenue we're on leads directly to it, so this is the street we want. The Lethanta must consider this a major thoroughfare. There's a ton of traffic and lots of people. If I had to hang up a sign, this'd be the place I'd want to do it."

"The banner has not been up for very long," Data observed. "It shows no evidence of having been degraded by the weather or the pollution emitted by the internal combustion engines of the many ground vehicles on the boulevard. Perhaps this means that the common people were told about the impending attack only a short time ago."

"Good point, Commander," Ro said. "Let's go see if we can find out."

"That is my intention." They began walking in the general direction of Government House, which was several kilometers away and almost invisible through the haze of airborne grit and grime that hung over the capital city. In contrast to the side street they had just quit, the boulevard bore heavy traffic heading in both directions.

The people they pa.s.sed on the sidewalk seemed subdued. There were a number of small stores and shops fronting the boulevard, and most of them were open, but they did not seem to be doing very much business.

They had not gone more than a block or two when they suddenly heard the cry of sirens. Data looked behind them. "There are a small number of ground vehicles attempting to work their way through traffic," he told Ro. "They are still some distance away."

"I can see flashing lights," Ro said. "The law is the law the galaxy over. Think they're looking for us?"

"Unknown as yet. I would not worry, however. We can beam back to the ship instantly if we encounter trouble. We might as well stand here and watch what happens."

They looked on as three large ground vehicles-clearly belonging to some emergency or security force-fought their way through traffic and squealed to a stop just short of the giant banner, blocking the boulevard and bringing all traffic to a halt. Uniformed men swarmed out of two of the vehicles and to both sides of the boulevard, where they disappeared into two buildings, each opposite the other, from which the banner had been hung. More uniforms popped out of the third vehicle. These men-Data thought of them as police, as Ro had suggested they were-took up position along the street.

A minute or two later, the huge banner was cut loose from its pinnings on the roofs and upper floors of the two buildings. The sign sank to the street in slow motion, trapping air in its folds as it fell. It finally settled on the boulevard, tentlike, covering a large number of stalled vehicles and evoking angry shouts and cries from the people inside them. Several policemen began pulling at the fallen banner, gathering it together and dragging it to one side of the street, where it lay in a heap.

"I'm beginning to get the idea that PREPARE! is not a message condoned by the government," Ro said.

"I think you are correct," Data replied. "I wonder who is responsible for-"

"Just a minute, you two!" one of the policemen called. He began walking toward them, and he was scowling. "Stop right there!"

Data looked around. The small crowd that had been standing there with them to watch what was going on had melted away, and he and Ro were the only onlookers still on the street. "I believe he is speaking to us," he said to Ro.

"No kidding," the ensign returned. "Well, Commander? Do we run down the street? Do we beam up? Do we slug him?"

"None of those courses of action seems necessary at this time, Ensign. Let us simply remain here and see what happens."