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He wondered if anyone on Vulcan would bother to inform his Section 31 handlers, Agent Harris and Captain Stillwell, of his fate. He’d had scant contact with either of them over the past several months, just enough to ascertain that his present sojourn on Vulcan suited their purposes, at least for the time being. He drew some grim amusement from the thought that they might have been left to wonder what had become of him, two control freaks being driven to distraction by circumstances that they couldn’t manipulate.

The hovercar didn’t slow down appreciably until it had penetrated deep into the ring of ancient stone towers that comprised central ShiKahr’s government district. Trip was mildly surprised when it came to a stop atop a building he recognized—the one in which Administrator T’Pau maintained her offices. But as his escorts conducted him out of the hovercar and down into the building, something felt... off about the place. The building seemed entirely too quiet, even for a Vulcan institution. Hell, the entire city had seemed emptier than it should have been by now, a good two hours into the workday.

Tucker put all of that aside, concentrating instead on the question of why he’d been brought here. Kuvak must have figured out what Terix and I have been up to over the past couple of months, he thought as his minders guided him into a suite of majestic yet spartan stone-floored offices.

Moments later, Trip was nonplussed to find himself in the presence not of Minister Kuvak, but of Administrator T’Pau herself, as well a Vulcan male whom he recognized immediately.

“Soval,” he whispered before he realized that the foreign minister had never been formally “read in” to Trip’s whole “secret identity” business. From Soval’s standpoint, Commander Charles Tucker had died last year aboard Enterprise, and Sodok was just one of the billions of his fellow Vulcans.

Let’s just hope he doesn’t take too close a look at Sodok’s face, Trip thought, knowing that Soval had seen that face before, on a dead man.

Fortunately, Soval appeared to have taken no notice either of Trip or the gargantuan bookends who had brought him into T’Pau’s office. The foreign minister’s attention was focused completely on the administrator, who had turned away from them. She was gazing out the broad window at ShiKahr’s exotic skyline of variegated stone towers.

“I regret that I cannot do more, Administrator,” Soval said.

“Your presence here is appreciated, Soval,” T’Pau said. “However, I should delay your return to Earth no longer. I have all the assistance I need already.”

With a nod, Soval made his exit, walking past Trip without paying him any heed.

“Leave us,” T’Pau said, her face still turned toward the window. Apparently sensing instinctively that she was addressing them, Trip’s chaperones departed.

All at once, he was alone with Vulcan’s supreme leader. “Um, what can I do for you, Administrator?”

T’Pau turned toward him.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks. The living face of all of Vulcan was weeping.

“Administrator?” What the hell is going on here?

“Commander T’Pol has assured me that you are a trustworthy man, Mister Sodok,” she said as new tears rolled out of her eyes and down both cheeks. She had utterly cast aside the haughty pride that he had come to expect from Vulcans, heedless of what that might have cost her.

She’s calling me by my fake name, he thought. How trustworthy am I supposed to feel, when I’m fooling her with this secret identity stuff?

“What has happened, Administrator?” he asked.

“I’m surprised you haven’t heard already,” she said. “I imagined that Commander T’Pol’s... associates would have told you by now.”

She means Denak and Ych’a.

“I haven’t been able to reach them this morning,” he said.

She nodded knowingly. “I see. Being Syrrannites like myself, they are both no doubt deep in meditation. Even Kuvak has sequestered himself.”

Although whatever crisis had just erupted remained an utter