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“Captain,” said Data, “I have already modified the holodeck program to isolate the individual occupants within discrete force fields. I have done this in a way that will not be obvious from within the holodeck, at least until the program ends. This will happen in fifteen minutes and thirty-two-point-seven seconds, unless I take action to extend it.”

“No,” said Picard, “let it end, but keep them contained within the force fields. The Changeling or Changelings may be tricked into exposing themselves. Failing that, we will need to screen each of the officers in turn. Dr. Crusher, Counselor Troi, you will conduct the screenings. Lieutenant Addison will provide whatever security backup is required.”

Picard picked up a padd displaying the personnel files on the transfer officers and scrolled through them. “Lieutenant, assign some of your people to look over all the logs and files on these people, working backward from when they boarded the Enterprise. Try to identify any suspicious behavior or recent situations in which they might have been captured or killed and replaced with a duplicate. It may help us target the screenings.”

“Yes, Captain.”

He glanced at the padd one last time and placed it facedown on the table. “The clock is ticking. We need to identify the Changeling or Changelings on this ship, neutralize any damage they may have done, and prevent them from doing more. Dismissed.”

Picard stood, tugged at his uniform, and walked quickly past the others and onto the bridge-with Berardi in charge rather than Hawk, though he knew why that was-and went directly into his ready room. He turned and set a security lock on the door, then tapped commands into the door console that caused a security force field to shimmer into existence behind the door.

He tapped his communicator. “Picard to Hawk, status report.”

“Captain, are you alone?”

“Yes, I’m secure in my ready room.”

“Captain, Lieutenant Addison didn’t leave the briefing room with the others!”

Picard looked around the room. Nothing seemed amiss. His treasured Mintakan tapestry. His complete works of Shakespeare in their transparent case. His d’k tahg from when he served as Worf’s cha’DIch. His chair. His desk. A small couch. Three side chairs.

Three chairs.

“Mr. Hawk, I believe the Changeling is here with me now.”

“Captain.” It was Riker’s voice. “We have a security team standing by on your command.”

The middle chair shimmered, changing into a reddish amber liquid that flowed and reformed into a humanoid shape, which solidified into the form of Linda Addison. Her pose was relaxed, and she made no move toward him. He was intensely aware that it could all be a ruse. “If you do that, I’ll simply have to escape, Captain, and we won’t have a chance to talk. I’ve read your files, your outstanding history of diplomacy. You once said that war is simply the ultimate failure of diplomacy.”

Picard stood motionless, his posture ramrod straight, as though bracing himself for whatever came next. He spoke slowly and carefully. “I said that a long time ago, before meeting the Borg. I am not sure I believe it anymore.”

“The Dominion is not the Borg.”

“Nor are they like any other adversary that we have ever encountered. I can assume nothing.”

“Captain?” It was Riker again.

“Have them stand by, Number One. Computer, authorize audiovisual monitoring of this room from the main bridge, authorization Picard Sigma Six.”

“Monitoring authorized.”

“Number One, if the Changeling makes any move toward me, you are authorized to enter and use whatever force is necessary. Until then, have security hold their positions.”

“Addison” tilted her head and pouted. “Picard, I was so hoping we could have a private conversation. As you can imagine, this is a very delicate situation, and if I can offer a way to forestall war between our respective powers, can you afford not to explore it?”

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Computer, modify order. Allow visual monitoring only. No audio.”

“She” smiled. “That will do.”

Picard frowned