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“Data…” La Forge said, shaking his head in frustration. “I just…I don’t understand.”

Data glanced his way, then turned with a smile to look at Lal. “Is it so difficult to understand the desire to create new life, Geordi? I left the Federation so that Lal might have a chance to exist.”

Lal, hearing her name, turned to Data and smiled. “I am grateful you did, Father. On the whole I have found that, even taking hardship and privation into account, existence is far preferable to nonexistence.”

Data steered them through a high archway into a broad concourse, teeming with androids of all shapes, sizes, and types. This was the closest Isaac had come to any of the Turing androids except for their two escorts, both of whom were largely humanoid in appearance, and coming within such close proximity to some of the more divergent morphologies was an experience in itself. An android the size of a small elephant stamped by on six legs, its head swiveling on a long, articulated neck, and as it passed it turned to meet Isaac’s gaze. Its face was largely immobile, fairly inexpressive, but it opened its wedge-like mouth and emitted a stream of clicks, which Isaac recognized as a greeting in binary machine code. Smiling, he opened his own mouth and did his best to approximate the same tones and syntax.

Others of the Turing populace seemed as welcoming, with smiles and nods in their direction, or greetings called out as they passed. But some, Isaac could not help but note, were far less welcoming.

Seeing Picard’s expression, Isaac realized he wasn’t the only one to notice.

“Data,” the captain said, in a low voice, the faint smile on his face belying the seriousness of his tone. “It would seem that some of your fellow androids are somewhat less than pleased at our arrival.”

“You are unfortunately correct, Captain,” Data said, as quietly. “Ours is a culture governed by consensus, and while the majority agreed with me that you were best suited to assist us in our present difficulties, the Lorists-the strongest minority opinion-most certainly did not agree.”

“Lorists?” La Forge asked.

Lal explained. “They contend that artificial life is superior to organic life. Artificial life, so the Lorists argue, is the natural progression of organic life, as is proved by the gradual spread of human consciousnesses uploaded into artificial bodies. Eventually, Lorist doctrine contends, all organic life will either die off, or will cast off its bodies of mortal meat and ascend into clean and precise positronic minds.”

“Clean and precise…?” Crusher echoed. “Do you believe that, Lal?”

Lal cocked her head to one side, thoughtfully. “There is a certain logic to the Lorist position, certainly. But ultimately I feel that my uncle’s position is too radical, and so my opinions are instead more Datarian in leaning.”

Picard looked from Lal to Data, questioning. “Uncle?”

“Yes, Captain,” Data said. “The majority of the Turing population is, for the moment, made up of so-called Datarians, who concur with my position, but a growing minority are those who instead agree with my older brother, Lore.”

The other members of the away team gave one another confused glances, but it was Isaac, speaking for the first time since their arrival, who gave their thoughts voice. “But Data, you have no older brother.”

Data opened his mouth to answer, but before he could another voice interrupted.

“Speak of the devil, and he will arrive.”

Isaac turned along with the others to see another early-generation Soong-type approaching, whose appearance, and whose voice, were all but identical with those of Data. This other Soong-type, though, wore a somewhat condescending sneer that twisted those familiar features into an unfamiliar, and unpleasant, countenance.

“These are the friends I was telling you about, Lore,” Data said, taking a step forward.

“Too late for diplomacy, I’m afraid, dear brother,” the android called Lore said, still sneering. “Long-range sensors have detected a Romulan warbird dropping out of warp at the system’s edge. It will be here in a