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I . . . I understand. I will do what Jaldark wanted me to. I will be brave.

Right before the darkness claimed him, 110 knew in his heart that both 111 and Jaldark would be proud of their decisions.

CHAPTER

7

“Welcome back,” came the kind voice of Emmett.

110 blinked. “You beamed me out in time,” he said. It was a statement, not a question.

“And only just,” came Captain Gold’s booming voice. His face moved into 110’s line of vision. “What were you thinking? You were supposed to come back the minute the implants started to hurt. You could have died down there!”

110 smiled softly. No. Friend would not have let him. None of his friends would have let him die. Another time, another place, yes—one day, he would die.

But it would not be today.

“So,” said Gold, his anger diminishing, “what happened with the little Bynar and the great big ship?”

“What is Friend doing now?” countered 110.

“Sitting quietly in space. It wants to make sure you’re all right.”

“He will be,” said Lense. “I would recommend you take it easy for a while, though, 110. No more joining with strange ships. In fact, you should leave the computers alone for at least a day.”

“The Enterprise has arrived,” Gold said. “They came, even though I called off the alert. They figured, they were this close, they might as well pick up Geordi and you, and take you back to Starbase 505.”

“No.” The firmness of 110’s reply surprised everyone. “I will not go to Starbase 505. I will not rejoin.”

“What?” Gold appeared stunned. “But—you have to. You’re a Bynar.”

“I am,” agreed 110, “but I am also myself. An individual. Captain, my bond with 111 was profoundly deep. The severance of that bond was dreadful. I know what my customs demand, but I do not wish to obey them. I do not want to bond with anyone, at least, not yet. That is why I did not bond with the ship.”

“What?” Gold said again. 110 felt a faint flush of humor. He was certainly startling his captain with these revelations. “The ship tried to force you to bond with it? Be its new pilot?”

“Force? No. Friend would not force anything on anyone. He and the people who built him are very peaceful people, Captain. But the offer was made, and I almost accepted.” He felt a sudden pang of wistfulness. It would have been sweet, to have bonded again, to feel the comforting presence of that Other who was yet one’s self. But this solitary state had lessons to teach, lessons 110 knew he was ready to embrace, hard though they might be.

“I will remain here on the da Vinci, if you will have me. If not, I am certain that Bynaus would be happy to provide you with another joined pair. They would certainly be more efficient than a solitary Bynar.”

“Your contribution is unique, solo man,” said Gold warmly. “As are you.”

110 cocked his huge, round head. “Soloman? Is that an Earth term for one who is unmated?”

Gold chuckled. “Not an official term, no.”

110 considered for a moment. If he refused to rebond, he would not be permitted to use his designation of 110 anymore. He needed a new designation—a name, as the humans called it.

“Soloman,” 110 said softly, liking how the awkward words sounded on his tongue. “May I then take the name Soloman? I will need one, now that I am unbonded.”

“Soloman it is,” said Gold. “Now, what’s up with Friend?”

As best he could, utilizing the clumsy and inefficient method of the spoken word, the newly dubbed Soloman tried to convey what had transpired. He was frustrated at his lack of ability to convey the nuances, the intimacy of the joining with the ship, but Gold was a wise human. He seemed to understand what could not be spoken, only sensed. He listened intently, his dark eyes intense under his bushy brows.

“Do you think Friend trusts us?” he asked.

“He has bonded with me, and I trust you. Therefore, he must trust you also.”

Gold nodded. He rose, and patted Soloman’s leg. “Let me see what I can do.”

* * *

“Hello, Jean-Luc, you old son of a gun. Late as usual. You missed all the excitement.”

The normally formal visage of Captain