“They would’ve done no harm, sir. They were made of biodegradable polymers and carbon—”

“That’s not the point! This isn’t about cold facts and analysis, it’s about people’s feelings!Can’t you understand how much people still fear the Borg? How upsetting it would be for them to discover something like this had been done to them, especially by—”

He broke off. Torvig gazed at him for a long moment, then nodded to himself. “I see. By a cyborg like me. Thank you for confirming my secondary thesis, sir.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s clear that you’ve been uncomfortable with me since I came on board, sir. I’ve found that such reactions are often due to prejudice arising from my species’ coincidental similarity to the Borg. Many of us have faced that kind of prejudice, and we’re curious to understand the mechanisms behind it. So intolerance is an area of study in which I have an ongoing interest.” Keru was aware that Torvig had engaged in discussions and debates about humanoid chauvinism with other members of the crew, including a wager with Lieutenant Eviku that Titanwould be given a human motto—a wager he’d lost when Riker had chosen the Vulcan creed of “Infinite diversity in infinite combinations” to grace the ship’s dedication plaque. But Torvig’s eager-student mien rarely wavered, so it was hard to tell whether it reflected a genuine fear of persecution or a simple intellectual curiosity. Keru found himself realizing that, in some odd Choblik way, it might be both. “Aside from their other advantages, the use of nanoprobes allowed me to test how you and/or the rest of the crew would react to their discovery—and therefore what factors shape your reaction to me. Sir.” The cadet’s voice, while slightly more subdued than before, hadn’t wavered from its matter-of-fact tone.

But Keru paused before answering, trying to keep his own tone under control. “You mean you deliberately did this…in order to experiment on me?To gauge my reactions, my feelings about the Borg, like some amoeba in a test tube?”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way, sir. For one thing the methodology for examining an amoeba would be completely different.”

“Shut up! Just—just tell me why.Why experiment on me?”

Torvig looked up at him. “Because you are a crewmate of mine and I want to get to know you better, sir.”

Keru’s anger deflated, and embarrassment threatened to take its place. But luckily a modicum of irritation remained, though it was more tempered now. Stepping away from Torvig, he took a moment to formulate his words. “Look. I appreciate your interest in learning about your crewmates. But I don’t appreciate being learned about by being experimented on, and I doubt anyone else around here does either. If you want to learn about us, there are better ways. Talk to us, socialize with us.”

“Better in what sense, sir? I assume they’re more comfortable for species like yours; but I’m more comfortable with a practical, empirical approach, with hard, codifiable data. It’s what I’m good at.”

“But not everything can be codified or empirically explained. Gut feelings, for example. Relationships, for another.” Or fears and resentments.

“I disagree, sir. You can never conclusively say that something can’t be explained—only that it hasn’t been explained yet. Well, there is the Incompleteness Principle, of course, but that allows a system to be fully explained within a broader system.”

Keru rubbed his temples; this was giving him a headache. “Look. The bottom line is, you broke regulations. You admit it, and you’re unrepentant. There will have to be penalties, and there will be a mark on your record for this.”

Torvig nodded. “Of course, sir. I anticipated that as a probable outcome. I’m curious to find out what form my discipline will take. There are so many interesting ways of going about it—I hope the captain or Commander Vale will choose one I haven’t experienced yet.”

Keru couldn’t think of a single thing to say to that. “Look. Just…for now, you’re confined to quarters until further notice. Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

The Choblik turned and strode gracefully from the security office on his long runner’s legs, his bionic joints working without a sound. His tail deftly shot forward to avoid the closing door behind him. Keru just stared at the closed door for a moment, then shook his head. I guess I can’t fault him for his enthusiasm, at least,he thought. Still, he found himself giving a shudder of relief now that the cyborg was gone. He knew, of course, that the well-meaning young Choblik had nothing to do with the monsters who’d killed his beloved Sean.

But how could he convince his gut?

Dr. Huilan Sen’kara, assistant counselor on the U.S.S. Titan,reached up to signal at Crewman K’chak’!’op’s door and waited. Then that door opened, the Pak’shree emerged, and Huilan still waited. K’chak’!’op—whom most people on the ship called “Chaka,” more as a phonetic convenience than an endearment—looked around her and made a rising creak sound with her stridulating mouthparts, which her voder interpreted as “Hello?”

“Down here,” Huilan said patiently.

K’chak’!’op moved back a bit, lowered her large round head until the lower pair of her black cabochon eyes could see him, and then began waving the squidlike tentacles which extended from the sides of her head, six on each side. “Oh, Counselor Huilan, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you!” Or so her voder interpreted her tentacular motions, plus the quick stridulation she added to represent his name. The Pak’shree used audible stridulations as their animal forebears had done, to convey things like names, greetings, emotional expression, danger calls and the like, and had later evolved the use of sign language for more sophisticated communication. Huilan’s xenoethology studies had shown that many sentient species, including most humanoids, had gone through a similar phase in their evolution, only to shift to spoken language later on. He supposed the Pak’shree had retained their dual system owing to the limitations on stridulation as a form of speech, or simply owing to the sheer versatility of their tentacles.

But none of that was what he was here to discuss. Evolutionary behaviorism was his specialty, but he had come to counsel K’chak’!’op, not to study her. “That’s quite all right,” he said. “It happens all the time.” It was indeed a common occurrence for a not-quite-meter-tall S’ti’ach on a ship full of giants.

“No, it was my fault entirely, you poor dear. Please, please, come in! Make yourself at home! Can I get you anything, sweetie?”

Huilan blinked his large black eyes, amused at being called “sweetie.” The S’ti’ach weren’t exactly known for their sweet disposition—at least, not by the prey animals of S’ti’ach’aas.

Still, he graciously followed K’chak’!’op into her quarters, noting how extensively she had personalized them. Indeed, with help from the deceased Chief Engineer Ledrah, she had essentially transformed them into a replica of the earthen architecture of her homeworld. The walls, floor, and ceiling were almost totally covered in replicated clay, wood, and stone, held together by a secretion of her own body, which the humans liked to call “silk” by analogy with their arachnids but which was really more of an organic cement. The only openings left were for the doors, wall console, and replicator, and there was no furniture save for a couple of low, wide mounds of earth. Yet the walls were intricately textured, a loving exercise in Pak’shree tactile art, although Huilan was not qualified to judge whether the patterns represented actual talent or mere enthusiasm. Still, it was a striking space to occupy. “Your quarters are lovely. It’s no wonder you like to spend so much time here.”

“Aha,” she stridulated. “I expected that was why you came, Counselor. Everybody’s so kind with their concerns about me, holed up here in my quarters all the time. But I’m fine here, really I am. Please, have a seat,” she added, lowering her four-segmented, six-legged body onto one of the mounds, and brushing some padds off of it with some of her tentacles while she spoke with the rest. Pak’shree language was structured to allow them to “talk with their hands full.”