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Sivath paused in mid-motion, setting aside a blinking medical gadget that Trip didn’t immediately recognize. “In point of fact, Commander, I do mind. This is a place of healing, not an interrogation room.”

T’Vran stepped between him and the doctor just as the infirmary hatchway opened behind him. Trip heard heavy footfalls as at least one person entered the chamber from the corridor beyond.

“Security will conduct you back to your quarters now, Commander Tucker,” T’Vran said in a tone that invited no debate.

I guess I’m a “guest” here in exactly the same way Sopek and Terix are “guests” here, Trip thought. As he had come to expect, his door remained locked from the outside.

He continued pacing back and forth, imagining he was wearing a groove in the duranium-steel deck plating of the small quarters T’Vran had issued him. If I keep at this long enough, he thought wryly, maybe I can turn that groove into an escape tunnel.

According to the chronometer on the room’s tiny worktable, he had been cooling his heels for only an hour when the door chime finally sounded.

“Come.”

The hatchway that led out into the corridor slid open, admitting

Ych’a.

“Do you mind asking the captain if she’ll issue me bigger quarters?” he said. “I’m gonna need a little more room if I’m gonna entertain visitors properly.”

Ych’a spoke as though she hadn’t heard a single word he’d said. “Commander, please accept my apologies for having been called away back in the infirmary.”

“If you only got off the comlink just now,” Trip said, “then there must be some big news brewing in the home office.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You are perceptive. I have received new orders because of a newly discovered development deep inside the Romulan Star Empire.”

Trip’s eyes narrowed involuntarily. “What kind of ‘development’ are you talking about?”

“One that suits the unique background and skill set of your old Romulan persona,” she said. “As well of those of your new Vulcan identity.”

Sodok, the Vulcan trader, Trip thought.

“I’m listening,” he said, though he’d have far preferred to hear her say, “you’ll be back on Earth by next week.”

“Operating as Sodok, you will have two essential functions. The first of these, as I envision it, is to assist me in exposing and neutralizing the corrupt elements and spies we suspect are operating inside Vulcan’s intelligence community.”

“That sounds like old news,” Trip said, folding his arms before him and leaning against one of the room’s too-close walls. “I take it you’re breaking things down for me this way because your bosses just handed you a brand-new directive.”

She nodded. “Again, that is perspicacious of you, Commander.”

“I hope that’s a good thing,” he said with a shrug. “Unless what you really just said is that you think I sweat a lot.”

“Your new medium-term mission,” she said, again stepping effortlessly around his banter, “involves an assignment of critical importance.”

“How critical?”

“Critical enough to ensure the security of Earth, Vulcan, and every other member of the Coalition of Planets.” Her voice never deviated from glacial calm, and Trip could almost believe that her pulse had done likewise.

He couldn’t say the same of his own. “That sounds pretty damned critical.” After a contemplative pause, he added, “And just how long do expect this thing to last?”

She looked upward and into the middle distance of one of the blank, disconcertingly near walls, apparently performing a brief mental calculation.

“It is always my preference to err conservatively in making such estimates,” she said.

“Which would make you a fine engineer,” he said, an edge of irritation creeping into his voice. “How long?”

“This operation could take upwards of a Terran year to come to full fruition.”

The weight of her words struck him right in the belly with the force of a flying anvil.

Once he’d recovered his breath, he said, “No. God. Damned. Way.” A recognizable emotion finally broke the placid surface of her countenance: