Kirk noted the change in Czerwinski’s expression, as though she sensed that Nogura was not in the mood for idle conversation. To him, she said, “Admiral, as you saw for yourself, your consignment has been installed in our long-term storage section on level twenty-five.” She made her way back to her workstation. “It’s to be categorized under ultrasecret classification as well as a special dispensation from the Starfleet commander and the Federation president, ordering its isolation for a period of not fewer than one hundred years. Extensions to this directive will be subject to review by . . . well, whoever holds those titles a century from now.”

“The only safe bet is that it likely won’t be any of us,” Nogura said. Then, with a raised eyebrow worthy of any self-respecting Vulcan, he added, “Except perhaps for you, Captain.”

Smiling at the unexpected compliment, Czerwinski cleared her throat as she reached for a data slate lying atop her station’s console. “All we need now, sir, is your authorization to activate the enhanced security protocols. Once that’s entered, the materials in question will officially be in isolation, and the clock will be running, so to speak.” As intended, Czerwinski and her personnel had no direct knowledge of the contents of the archive containers that had been placed in storage under Kirk and Nogura’s supervision. According to Nogura, more than twenty percent of the total inventory stored in this facility was shrouded in a security classification so dense and compartmented that it exceeded the clearance levels of the archive’s support staff.

“That won’t be necessary, Captain,” Kirk said, moving past her to examine one of the island’s other workstations. Gesturing toward the console, he asked, “This station is the master access console for the central archive database, correct?”

Czerwinski’s expression changed to one of confusion, though she was able to reassert her composure. “Yes, Admiral. It’s a dedicated console, the only one with complete authority to access and update any memory bank in the facility. Only I and three other members of the archives support staff have sufficient credentials to access the database in this manner.”

“Then I’ll need you to supply us both with the necessary access permissions,” Nogura said. “For a one-time use, of course. Also, I need you and your staff to leave Admiral Kirk and myself alone in this room until one of us fetches you.”

Shock now replaced puzzlement on Czerwinski’s face, though she was able to maintain her bearing. “I’m . . . sorry, Admiral, but I don’t understand. Typically, access to the central database is strictly controlled, particularly when we’re talking about information on anything of a classified nature.”

Kirk said, “We appreciate that this is unusual and not normal procedure, Captain.” He retrieved a data card from a pocket of his uniform and handed it to her. “This should explain everything. We’re operating under orders from the Starfleet commander and the Federation president. This matter is very sensitive, requiring an extraordinary set of security measures that are ‘eyes only’ and ‘need to know’ and every other security cliché in the book.”

Czerwinski regarded the card with uncertainty. “Not to be disrespectful, Admiral, but I’d need to verify these orders before I could let you proceed.”

“And I’d have to shred your stripes if you did anything less, Captain,” Nogura replied. “However, if it’s all the same to you, I’d like not to die here of old age.”

Despite her evident anxiety, Czerwinski recovered and made short work of inspecting the data card’s contents. After only a few moments, she looked up from the workstation where she had reviewed the orders the card contained. “Everything looks to be in order, Admiral.” Moving to the dedicated library computer station, she entered a string of commands, then returned her attention to Nogura and Kirk. “I’ve authorized temporary access for both of you, sir, with credentials matching my own. They will expire in fifteen minutes, or when you log out of the system, whichever comes first.”

Nodding in approval, Kirk replied, “That should be sufficient, Captain. Thank you for your assistance.” He said nothing more, and both he and Nogura waited as Czerwinski ordered the other personnel to follow her from the archive’s operations center.

When the heavy door slid shut behind her and both men heard the tone signaling that the door now was locked, Nogura said, “Good officer. I like people who stick to their guns and don’t back down just because someone decides to pull rank.”

“Then you ought to love me, sir,” Kirk countered, forcing himself not to smile.

Rather than replying to the comment, Nogura produced from a pocket a data card of his own. Inserting the card into a reader slot on the workstation, the admiral keyed a control, and one of the console’s displays flared to life.

“Are you sure this new protocol of yours will work?” Kirk asked. Updating a database in the manner Nogura had proposed was tricky business, he knew, something left only to those with the proper skills and specialist ratings. Kirk was not that person, and he doubted Nogura was, either.

“As sure as I can be,” the older man replied. Then, with a small grin, he added, “I enlisted Commander Spock for this. It was the last thing he did before departing for Vulcan. I think you’ll agree that if anyone can do what I need done, it’s him.”

Kirk offered an appreciative nod. “Indeed I do, sir.” To his knowledge, Spock had left for his home planet weeks ago. He had no idea that his former first officer had remained on Earth, much less while working on a project for Nogura. Not for the first time, Kirk realized that he missed his friend, whose announcement of his intention to return to Vulcan had come as a surprise. Kirk had been under the impression that Spock would want to oversee the installation of the new state-of-the-art computer hardware and software that would control the upgraded Enterprise’s onboard systems. Operating under that assumption, Kirk even had recommended Spock for promotion and reassignment as captain of the starship. With the Vulcan gone, Kirk, in his role as chief of Starfleet Operations, now was considering other officers for that prized billet.

“All right.” Nogura motioned toward the workstation. “I didn’t bring you along to carry my bags. Let’s get this over with.” Reaching for the console’s manual interface, he tapped a sequence of keys. “Computer, this is Admiral Heihachiro Nogura, Starfleet Command. Voice authentication.”

Speaking with the familiar female voice characterizing all Starfleet information systems, the computer responded, “ Voice authentication complete. Admiral Heihachiro Nogura: Identity verified.”

After the authentication process was completed for Kirk, Nogura ordered, “Computer, execute program package Nogura One.”

“ Dual authorization required,” the computer responded.

His attention focused on the workstation’s display monitor, Nogura said, “Authorization Nogura, Alpha Three Nine Five Five Omega. Enable.”

Kirk added, “Authorization Kirk, Epsilon One Three Seven One Gamma. Enable.” In truth, he had thought Nogura would keep this entire affair to himself, rather than including anyone else. However, the elder admiral’s new security protocol was dependent upon a two-party endorsement, as was his intention, and Kirk was the only other current member of the admiralty with any real firsthand knowledge of Operation Vanguard.

In response to his order, the screen began to fill with lines of text, scrolling almost too fast for Kirk to read. He was able to catch snippets of information—file numbers, dates, authorization codes—though nothing of any real use to the untrained eye. Even with the knowledge he possessed as to what Nogura was doing, most of the data Kirk was seeing was little more than gibberish.