Chekov interrupted the long wordless interval that followed. “Twelve hours will give Yilskene plenty of time to call up reinforcements.”

Looking pensive, Sulu nodded. “No doubt.”

“And the commanders of thoseships won’t necessarily be bound by Yilskene’s bargain with us.”

“Maybe,” Sulu said. “But at least we’ve bought a little time for ourselves. And for the Neyel.”

“Do we really want to concern ourselves about what [193] happens to the Neyel?” Chekov said. “We might not have the luxury of saving our hides and theirs both.”

Burgess scowled. “We can’t just abandonthem out here, Commander. They’re us.”

Sulu nodded again, though with apparent reluctance. “Again, Ambassador Burgess is right, Pavel. Like it or not, the Neyel are human. Or at least they used to be, once upon a time. And that makes whatever they do—and whatever the Tholians may do to them—our responsibility.”

In spite of herself, Burgess felt a smile slowly spreading across her face—even as she watched the frown forming on Chekov’s. “Captain Sulu, perhaps we actually areplaying on the same team after all,” she said.

Sulu chuckled, though the sound conveyed little mirth. “Welcome aboard, Ambassador. Now we just have to figure out how to prove our good intentions to the Tholians.”

“We should begin by questioning the Neyel who rose from the dead today,” Burgess said.

Sulu nodded. “I agree. But first we need to find him and contain him. My chief of security is seeing to that as we speak.”

“If we didn’t have a working relationship with the Neyel before, Yilskene has certainly given us a good reason to forge one now,” Chekov said.

As backward as that sounded, it made a certain amount of sense to Burgess. Why nottry to make peace both with the Neyel andwith the Tholians?

Tuvok paced from his station on the upper bridge and entered the lower, central area. He came to a stop beside Sulu’s chair, pointedly ignoring Burgess.

“Something on your mind, Mr. Tuvok?” said Sulu.

“Any effort to exculpate us in the eyes of Admiral Yilskene and Ambassador Mosrene may be doomed to failure from the outset, Captain.”

“Why?” Sulu asked. “True, we’ve violated their space, [194] and that doesn’t look good in their eyes. But our overall intent as well as our actions have been benevolent.”

“But you are proposing to convince the Tholians that we have never been allies of the Neyel,” Tuvok said.

“That’s about the size of it,” Sulu said, nodding. “And it’s the truth.”

“Nevertheless, I am constrained to point out that this plan is built upon a fundamentally illogical premise.”

Burgess, Sulu, and Chekov all looked questioningly at the science officer.

“And that is?” Sulu asked.

Tuvok lifted an eyebrow in evident surprise, as though his observation should have been intuitively obvious. “Whether one has twelve hours or twelve centuries in which to attempt it, Captain, it is logically impossible to prove a negative.”

Then let’s hope that the impossible,Burgess thought, only takes a bit longer than the merely difficult.

“Captain,” Chekov said suddenly. “May I have a word?”

Burgess saw Sulu meet his first officer’s eyes, then nod. “In the situation room.” Excuse us, Ambassador. Commander Rand, you have the bridge.”

“All right, Pavel,” Sulu said as soon as the door slid closed behind them, ensuring their privacy. He sat at the head of the conference table and gestured for Chekov to take his usual place at Sulu’s right hand. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Sulu knew that his old friend would never question his orders in front of the bridge crew. But he’d known Pavel Chekov long enough to be able to see at a glance that he had grave reservations about some aspect of the current situation.

“It’s about the Neyel,” Chekov said after a moment of pensive silence. His dark eyes bored straight into Sulu’s from just above’ the tips of his steepled fingers. “We stayed here partly to protect them from the Tholians. I’m not sure that was such a good idea.”

[195] “Because we’re trapped here with them now?” Sulu asked.

Chekov shook his head. “No. I’m confident that Azleya and Tuvok can get us out of this if we have to leave in a hurry.”

Sulu found that reassuring. “As am I.”

“But you’re not eager to do that if it means leaving the Neyel ship behind.”

That nettled Sulu. Hadn’t he put paid to this issue a few minutes ago on the bridge? “All right, Pavel. Let’s take off the gold braid for a while and just talk. What’s your point?”

“Just this. You may have a very tough decision ahead of you soon. Of course, you can count on me to support it, whichever way it goes. Because I know you’re going to make the rightdecision.”

Sulu sighed. “To what decision are you referring?”

“The decision to admit that you can’t save both Excelsiorand the Neyel ship.”

“That’s not a decision I’m even close to having to make.”

“Right. You might have up to twelve hours. But after that, you may have to stop trying to protect the Neyel.”

Sulu had known Chekov long enough to understand that neither of them needed to fear having an argument. So he didn’t bother shrinking away from his rising pique. “God damn it, Pavel, we haveto protect them. Burgess was right about the Neyel. They’re us.”

“No, they’re not,” Chekov said, raising his voice as well. “But that’s exactly my point! They’re notus. It’s pretty clear that they’ve done some horrible things to the Tholians, and, for all we know, to other species as well.”

“They split off from humanity during some pretty bloody times,” Sulu pointed out. “Since then, our species has come a long way ethically, politically, and along just about any other dimension you can measure.”

Chekov nodded. “But the poor, benighted backwater of the human gene pool known as the Neyel missed out on all that.”

“I never said that. But if everything humanity has achieved [196] since the launch of Sputnikmeans anything at all—if it represents a sort of human birthright—then it’s their birthright too. It’s up to us to share it, to guide them back home.”

Chekov wouldn’t relent. “Are you surethat’s all you’re after, Hikaru?”

“Of course. What else is there?”

Chekov leaned forward as if to punctuate his next point. “How about absolution for humanity?”

His anger now thoroughly ignited, Sulu had to remind himself that he had asked Pavel to speak freely. He couldn’t very well shut him down now. “That’s absurd,” was all he could think of to say.

“Is it? I’ve known you for a lot of years, Hikaru. You’ve got a conscience that’s strong enough to jump-start a cold warp core. But this time it may be getting in the way of your judgment.”

“Really?” Sulu said, fuming.

Chekov remained relentless. “Really. You’re thinking that if the Neyel really have committed atrocities against the Tholians, then we bear major responsibility for their actions.”

Sulu stood, fists clenched at his sides. “Well, don’t we?”

Chekov rose as well, unintimidated. Sulu reminded himself that his exec wouldn’t be much use to him if he were easily cowed, even by the ship’s captain.

“That’s the real question, isn’t it? That’s the root of it all. When the Romulans went to war with Earth, and later started blowing up Federation outposts along the Neutral Zone, was Vulcan responsible? When Khan almost succeeded in getting control of the Genesis Device, would all of humanity have been responsible for the consequences? After all, Khan was human, too. But we ended up having to take him out the hard way.”

Sulu saw the emotion in Chekov’s eyes, no doubt brought upon him by the memories of what he personally had endured at Khan’s hands, and the certainty of the greater horrors that had been only narrowly averted all those [197] years ago. Sulu’s anger suddenly fled as he reminded himself that his old friend understood responsibility and guilt very well indeed.