truth.

Kirk greatly appreciated Janeway’s decency as she began by expressing her genuine relief that Joseph was safe, and how she regretted ever allowing the child to be part of the mission, even though she had had no reason to suspect he would ever be in danger. And he was able to deduce from the rest of the conversation exactly what Picard’s third mission had been, and how with Norinda’s help in making contact with the Tal Shiar, the threat of civil war might yet be averted.

By the end of La Forge’s report, Kirk found himself agreeing with Starfleet’s intentions, but taking exception with their plans and tactics. As usual, he thought.

He especially found it galling that even in light of the breakthrough Picard was poised to make with the Tal Shiar, Admiral Janeway refused to order the Titan to Romulus. Somehow, an emergency conference called at a starbase that was little more than a glorified repeating station for subspace radio signals didn’t seem like reason enough to leave a single starship to cover the entire Neutral Zone. Not on what might be the eve of war.

But Kirk decided that Starfleet’s biggest blunder in this matter had been not telling him the truth from the beginning. Had he known the stakes involved, he would have had no objection to accepting the assignment. He certainly would have been willing to investigate Spock’s murder on Romulus as a cover for Picard’s attempts to stop a civil war.

But by not trusting him, by believing that everyone they dealt with had the same compromised standards as the leaders of Starfleet, it was Command that had made the situation worse than it needed to be. At least, that was the way Kirk saw it. Starfleet, it seemed, was no different for Picard today than it had been in his time.

His report over and his subsequent discussion with the admiral at an end, La Forge cut the channel, then leaned back in his chair. “So that’s everything.”

“Somehow, given Starfleet’s track record, I doubt it,” Kirk said. “But thank you for letting us listen in. I take it that was a breach of your orders.”

“Not at all. We have contingency orders and some of them cover the circumstances under which we were authorized to tell you everything. The way I interpret those orders, this was one of those circumstances.”

“Good,” Kirk said. “I’d hate to see the admiral make you walk the plank for insubordination.”

La Forge laughed. Kirk looked at him, waiting for an explanation. “Everyone on Captain Picard’s command staff has walked the plank at one time or another. He has this holodeck program that…well, it’s historical.”

Kirk held up his hands. “Say no more.”

The turbolift opened and Joseph slowly came out, carrying a precarious stack of trays and food containers. Kirk rushed to help him, but not so urgently that Joseph might think he had done anything wrong.

Together they spread out the trays, then reallocated the food packs, so everyone got a version of the same meal. Kirk noticed that Joseph’s tray had four chocolate-chip cookies. The Doctor’s influence hadn’t lasted too long.

They ate on the bridge, sitting on the steps and the upper level. And Joseph finally told them all the story of what had really happened when the “bad guys” came. How he was frightened and backed up against the wall in Picard’s cabin, and then how everything had shimmered with light and he was suddenly in a park and the Doctor was there, telling him he had to play a game where he must stand as still as he could for as long as he could, without making a sound. And if he could do that, then he’d get a big reward.

Kirk was grateful for the lack of trauma in Joseph’s account, knew he would have to thank the Doctor for thinking so quickly to save his child. Then he thought to ask Joseph what his reward had been.

Joseph leaned forward over his tray, and gestured emphatically with his spoon. “Dad,” he said conspiratorially, “he gave me all the ice cream I could eat. All.”

McCoy, La Forge, and Kirk laughed at that, so Joseph did, too. And as their laughter faded, a new sound rose on the bridge—a series of electronic chirps.

“That’s a hail,” La Forge said. He pushed his tray aside to return to the communications console.

“Don’t answer that,” Kirk said, tensing for trouble. “There’s not supposed to be anyone on board this ship.”

But La Forge was already at his console. “That’s a Starfleet code, sir. Set for this ship and this mission. We have our own code to respond with.”

Kirk relaxed, waved La Forge on. “Just stop calling me sir. It’s Jim.”

The next sound to come from the console was even more unexpected.

“Hello, Geordi—it’s Will.”

“Captain Riker…” La Forge answered. “Did you send that approach code?”

“Technically, Worf sent it. He’s in the copilot’s chair.”

“But I just spoke with Admiral Janeway. You’re supposed to stay on station at Latium Four.”

“Another technicality, Geordi. The admiral’s orders refer to the Titan, and the Titan is right where she’s supposed to be.”

Kirk smiled. There was hope for some in Starfleet.

Then another familiar voice joined the circuit. “We are approaching your aft cargo-bay airlock,” Worf brusquely announced. “Request permission to dock.”

Kirk was anxious to give it. Now that he had Joseph back, he could finally think of Spock. And the more people he had on his side in that fight for justice, the better. 

23

JOLAN SEGMENT, STARDATE 57488.1

As the craggy black rock of Remus stretched to a horizon over which a bloated green Romulus peered like a baleful eye, Picard knew how close he was to success, and how close to disaster.

With two days remaining until the Hour of Opposition, there was still time to convince the Tal Shiar they had an alternative to war. But the key to Picard being able to offer them that alternative rested with Norinda, the being who flew this transport, the being he had just betrayed.

Picard knew it wouldn’t matter that the betrayal had been unwitting. On the bridge of the Calypso, he had been shocked that Kirk had so willingly given up his son to Norinda, to allow him to journey to Remus. But as they had made their way back to the cargo bay and the transport, Picard had reflected on what Joseph had said to his father, and before they had left the first corridor, Picard realized what Kirk must already have known.

Joseph wasn’t Joseph.

The singular child strapped into the passenger seat across from him in the bare, unfinished shell of the transport was the holographic doctor. Engaged in a flawless deception.

So far.

Because once this transport landed and Joseph was brought before the followers of the Jolara—which was surely what Norinda intended—as perfect as the Doctor’s illusion was to all physical senses, it would have to withstand the inspection of any telepaths among the Reman population.

And there would be telepaths, some no doubt as skilled and powerful as the first Shinzon’s Viceroy had been.

Even more worrisome, the Doctor might already have faced his first telepathic test and failed when Norinda had stared so closely at him on the bridge, and asked him what he would like her to be.

Clearly, she was opening herself to him, and had Joseph been a real being, whatever idealized images he had in his mind of females important to him—memories of his mother, of playmates, or even of the dabo girls who apparently had made quite an impression on the boy—should have filtered out to Norinda, whose appearance would have altered in response to those images.

But Norinda hadn’t changed at all. Merely agreed that the “boy” did not know what he wanted her to be.

Picard could only hope that the shapeshifter’s calm acceptance of her inability to access Joseph’s thoughts indicated she had had similar negative results with other subjects. Ferengi were certainly resistant to almost all forms of telepathy. But as Deanna Troi had often said about her experiences with Data, it was one thing to attempt

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