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“Yeoman Zahra,” he said as he gently held her right arm and ran his trusted connector over the broken bone, “how are you feeling?”

She smiled weakly. “All right. The last shake caught me by surprise. I’ve gotten enough bruises to last me a lifetime, but others weren’t so lucky,” she added, glancing around the room. “I don’t want to take up so much of your attention.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” McCoy said, waving her concerns away. “You’re my patient now, and you have my full attention. Tell me something: have you been … experiencing anything out of the ordinary?”

Zahra looked up at him, displaying the same lack of comprehension as the other crew members he’d asked. “Such as?”

“Well, anything, really. Perhaps hearing voices?” McCoy was concerned that he was the only one suffering from this problem. If M’Benga was here… But he wasn’t. The Enterprise was wounded, her crew needed him.

Zahra bit her lip, then shook her head. “No, sir. Why do you ask?”

He took a deep breath, more to buy time than anything else. “Those folks are in deep comas,” he said, motioning with his head. “I’m trying to find out if something is affecting the minds of the crew.” There, that sounded almost believable. “And now, Yeoman Zahra, I won’t keep you any longer. Your arm’s fully healed, but try to be gentle with it.”

The most beautiful smile he’d seen in a long while lit her face. “Thank you, sir.”

“Off you go, then.” He put on his grumpy face. He enjoyed his reputation as a soft-hearted man in a misanthrope’s guise.

With Zahra gone, he only had a few patients left. He’d deal with them, then get some rest. Refreshed, he’d continue his research, while telling himself that he wasn’t going insane, that what he was experiencing was just a side effect of stress. Yes, his body was simply telling him—albeit rather creatively—to slow down a little. However, over an hour later, McCoy was still hard at work, Odhiambo lurking over his shoulder.

“Doctor,” Nurse Odhiambo said. “You’re needed in auxiliary control.”

“Is someone hurt?” McCoy asked. With the Enterprise immobile, they hadn’t hit any more distortions, but who knew what could have happened. What if another computer console had exploded? If Uhura had been injured, then this ship was going to be in even more trouble.

Odhiambo shook her head. “No, sir. Lieutenant Uhura wants a report.”

“Nurse, please tell her that I’ll report to her as soon as I finish here.” He didn’t wait for her reply but instead returned his attention to his patient. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was afraid. Afraid of not being able to help the espers, afraid they were going to die.

The closer they got to the energy reading, the louder the noises became. Kirk could hear squeaking as well, which reminded him of the Guidons, who had the highest-pitched voices he’d ever heard. As the landing party drew closer, the captain realized there was a deeper component. Each squeak seemed to carry three or four tones at once.

The rows of cryopods were coming to an end, and Kirk could just make out the wall of the chamber in the dim blue light. Large shadows moved across it. “Ensign,” he asked Seven Deers, taking care to keep his voice low. “Are those Farrezzi?”

“Aye, Captain,” she whispered back. “A large group of them—active and moving.”

“Sir,” Giotto said, “if they took our man, we don’t want to just barge in there.”

Kirk nodded, having arrived at the same conclusion himself. “Agreed. Seven Deers, find us a spot where we can observe them safely. All equipment to silent.”

Seven Deers checked her tricorder, then led them behind a row of pods, where they could get a good look.

A large group of Farrezzi—awake Farrezzi—were moving in front of a gigantic, blocky metal structure that filled the end of the cavern. Fifty meters wide and almost as high, it was embedded in the rocky wall, so the captain couldn’t tell how deep it went. The block was lined at its base with more of the semicircular doorways, and the Farrezzi were pushing cryopods through them. They were talking