“Thank you. So ... Morgan,” and he turned back to her, “I suppose what I’m asking is—”

“Is McHenry in here with me?” she asked.

“Basically, yes.”

She shook her head. That simple gesture struck Calhoun as intriguing, because a computer’s impulse would have been to verbalize a negative response. But Morgan was still thinking like a human ... possibly because she was still human? It was all a bit much for Calhoun to take. “His consciousness wasn’t ‘in transit’ as mine was, Captain.”

“Then why would Moke have seen Artemis speaking to McHenry’s body?” Soleta demanded.

Morgan shrugged. Calhoun couldn’t quite believe it. Yet another human gesture. What the hell had happened here? “There are several possibilities. In no particular order of likelihood, the first is that somehow, in some way, McHenry is trapped in his own sort of ‘twilight’ area. The second is that Moke imagined it somehow. Am I correct in assuming, from the way you phrased the question, that no one beside Moke claimed to see the Being?”

“No one else,” confirmed Calhoun.

“Why would Moke be able to see Artemis at all?” Burgoyne spoke up, scratching hir chin thoughtfully. “It doesn’t make sense, Captain.”

“No. No, it doesn’t. Then again, nothing in this entire damned thing has since Artemis first set foot aboard this ship,” Calhoun said in annoyance. “Morgan ...”

She was gone.

“Morgan!” Calhoun called out, his voice echoing through the room. Still no response. Slowly Calhoun looked at Soleta. “Do you think she ... ?”

“Did away with herself in some manner?” asked Soleta. “I do not know, sir.”

“No. She didn’t,” Robin said with certainty. There was an almost demented gleam in her eye. “She most definitely didn’t. She wouldn’t make it that easy on me.” Her voice began to rise. “Noooo, she always comes back. Always. That’s how she operates. I used to think she loved me, but now I know. I know beyond any doubt: She’s trying to drive me insane!”

Calhoun was in front of her then, gripping her firmly by the shoulders. “If that’s the case, it appears she’s succeeding,” he said grimly. “Robin, when was the last time you had any sleep?”

“Sleep is for lesser mortals, sir,” she told him, her eyes looking glazed.

“Lieutenant.” Calhoun cast a glance over to Soleta. “Be so kind as to escort Lieutenant Lefler to her quarters and make damned sure she doesn’t emerge until she’s had at least twenty-four hours’ sleep. We’re in orbit around a starbase; I doubt there’ll be a matter of such urgency that we can’t survive without Robin Lefler for a while.”

“Captain,” said Robin, “that won’t be necessary.”

“Your opinion is noted and logged. Soleta ...”

“I’m not going!” Robin said with raised voice.

“Lieutenant,” said Calhoun, and there was no trace of humor in his tone, “I did not issue a request just now. You cooperate with Lieutenant Soleta, or I will have Mr. Kebron come down here, knock you cold, and carry you bodily to your room. Not only will hedo as ordered without question, but he’ll probably welcome it as a means of breaking up his day. It’s your call, Lieutenant.”

Robin looked as if she was about to make some sort of reply, and then wisely thought better of it. Mustering as much dignity as she could, she squared her shoulders, pivoted on her heel, and walked out of the holodeck with Soleta at her side.

As soon as she was gone, Calhoun called softly, “Morgan? If you can hear me ... return now.”

Nothing. No response, either out loud or in the form of Morgan shimmering into existence. There was just the silence of the holodeck and an uncomfortable cleared throat from Burgoyne.

In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Calhoun couldn’t help but laugh slightly. “Just when you think this business can’t get any stranger, eh, Burgy?”

“Captain,” replied Burgoyne, “I’m a multisexual being who is mated with a Vulcan with whom I conceived a child that is aging at an exponential rate. My threshold of strangeness is far, far higher than yours.”

“So noted,” Calhoun said, glancing around the holodeck and wondering if Morgan was watching the entire exchange.

II.

Soleta had not been able to bring herself to look upon the body of her fallen coworker and longtime associate, Mark McHenry, because—and she hated to admit it to herself—it had simply been too upsetting a prospect.

It was a frustrating admission for Soleta to make. Despite her half-Romulan heritage (the fact of which she tended to keep to herself), Soleta made every effort to conduct herself with the demeanor and dispassion of a full-blooded Vulcan. In her heart, she knew that she didn’t always succeed, but she certainly tried her best.

Despite that, she had found herself much more upset over the demise of McHenry than she had anticipated. She looked back at their days in the Academy together and realized with a sort of awe just how remarkably young they had truly been ... which was impressive in retrospect considering that, at the time, they had felt very old and grownup. She marveled retroactively at her ignorance, and couldn’t help but wonder how she would feel when she was much older about the way she was at this particular moment in time.

Presuming she lived to be much older.

Well, that was it, wasn’t it.

McHenry was the first person whom Soleta had lost whom she had considered a true contemporary. It wasn’t only the loss of a fellow crewman; it was a stark reminder of her own mortality. And considering that ideally her life span would be far longer than that of a human, the prospect of dying at such a young age was a truly daunting one.

Even though the situation involving McHenry’s body was of scientific interest, she had nevertheless given it a wide berth. She had told herself there was no reason, really, for her to get involved. It was more a medical proposition than anything, and Dr. Selar had a handle on it. She also knew that Starfleet Medical was endeavoring to get involved, and that Captain Calhoun was insisting that McHenry’s—corpse, or whatever it was—stay right where it was.

Now, though ... now she could ignore it no longer. Because having learned what Moke had claimed to have seen opened a door to possibilities that Soleta wasn’t able to close again.

What if Moke had been right? What if Artemis really had been there, invisible to the eyes of everyone else in sickbay? Soleta’s mind was racing even as she headed to sickbay. If that was the case, though, why had Moke been able to see her when no one else could? Well, there were several possibilities. Perhaps the fact that he was a child had something to do with it. Or Moke’s particular species, perhaps. He wasn’t human, after all, or Vulcan, or a member of any race currently serving aboard the Excalibur.So perhaps his brain waves had a unique signature of some sort.

Bottom line, there were all sorts of possibilities. But the possibility that loomed most large for Soleta was the notion that maybe, just maybe, Artemis had indeed been there and speaking to McHenry because he was, in some manner, alive. If that was the case, and Soleta did nothing about it, then she would be abandoning McHenry at a time when he needed her more than ever before.

She entered sickbay and attracted no notice at all. Selar was busy consulting with a med tech about something or other, and that was fine with Soleta. She strongly suspected that, if she asked Selar’s permission to do what she was intending to, Selar would not only turn her down flat, but ban her from sickbay for anything short of Selar’s head falling off.

She had no reason to know where McHenry’s body was, and yet she found it with no problem, secluded off at a far end of sickbay. She glanced right and left before stepping into the small chamber, and then looked up at the life readings. Nothing. Straight negatives across the board. He was dead; there was no doubt about it. Not even the most minimal of brain activity to indicate anything other than that her old associate was dead.