They stepped into the turbolift and the doors closed behind them. “Deck three,” said Shelby, and as the lift moved off, she said, “I never looked at it in quite that way, Ambassador. Would you call yourself an agnostic?”

“I would call myself a Vulcan,” replied Spock. “I leave humans to apply other labels to me ... a pastime at which they have, historically, excelled.”

II.

Si Cwan was waiting for some sort of snide remark from Shelby. A contemptuous glance, a mocking sentiment. None was forthcoming. From the moment that they met in the transporter room to their sojourn to the conference lounge, Shelby—and Mueller, for that matter—were nothing but professional. In fact, Si Cwan was rather surprised when Mueller suggested a private dinner to him in a low voice for later that evening.

He received a further surprise when the turbolift opened on deck three, and a familiar, white-furred presence was standing there waiting to step in. “Ambassador Cwan!”

“Ensign Janos,” replied Si Cwan. “Aren’t you on the wrong ship?”

“There’s been some mixing of the crews,” Shelby told him. “The Excaliburhad some ... difficulties. She’s laid up in drydock, so we took on some of her crew.”

“Yes, I ... heard about that,” Si Cwan said.

“Terrible business,” said Janos in his cultured voice. “Simply terrible. I trust it will all be sorted out sooner rather than later, and retribution will be distributed all around.”

“One can only hope,” Kalinda spoke up.

Janos stepped aside, allowing everyone else to emerge from the turbolift before he stepped aboard. Si Cwan thought he might have imagined it, but he could have sworn he saw Janos’s furred hand brush against M’Ress’s as they stepped past each other, and she smiling to herself as a result. It was so fleeting a moment that it was hard to tell.

“Captain,” Mueller said, “if we’re going straight into conference, it might be best if Lieutenant Commander Gleau were present as well.”

This time Si Cwan was certain it was no fanciful notion on his part: He saw M’Ress stiffen slightly at the mention of Gleau’s name. He wondered why that would be, but wasn’t entirely certain that it was any of his business.

Shelby, meantime, nodded. “Yes, I think you’re right, XO.”

Mueller promptly tapped her combadge and summoned Gleau from the bridge as the small group walked into the conference lounge. Gleau arrived less than a minute later, and Si Cwan watched M’Ress carefully to see how she reacted. But there was no visible response from the Caitian aside from a slight inclination of her head in acknowledgment of Gleau’s presence. Still, Si Cwan sensed that something was most definitely wrong, and was beginning to think that rather than content himself that it was none of his affair he might instead want to consider ways to makeit his.

As if aware that something was up, Gleau looked at Si Cwan with an air of suspicion. But obviously Si Cwan wasn’t doing anything that Gleau could respond to, and so the Selelvian contented himself to take a seat after formally greeting the Vulcan ambassador.

Spock remained standing as he spoke, striking quite the impressive figure in his large, ridged traveling robes. “I am here,” he began without preamble, “at Starfleet’s request. Under ordinary circumstances, Captain, they would have communicated with you via normal sub-space transmissions. These are not, however, ordinary circumstances. Indeed, extreme caution is being dictated, since we do not yet fully comprehend the full scope of the situation presenting itself.”

“Meaning we don’t know what’s happening yet,” commented Mueller.

Spock looked at her with raised eyebrow. “I believe I just said that.”

“Yes, of course. Go ahead, Ambassador,” said Shelby, firing a mildly annoyed look at Mueller which amused the hell out of Si Cwan.

“As you know, individuals presenting themselves as ‘the Beings’ came to the planet Danter and have struck a bargain with the natives. In exchange for being worshipped, they will provide a substance they call ‘ambrosia’ to the Danteri. This substance, when ingested, is alleged to elevate the physical well-being of the consumers to previously unheard-of levels.”

“I can attest to that personally,” Si Cwan said immediately.

“You’ve eaten it?” asked Mueller.

“No. I did, however, get myself tossed around by someone who had. Someone whom I would have been able to break in half without much difficulty before that. Whatever their claims are that this stuff can do, I suspect it’s barely scratching the surface.”

“I don’t understand,” Gleau spoke up. “Did you say they will provide this stuff in exchange for ... being worshipped?”

“That is correct.”

“That’s exceedingly strange.”

“Perhaps,” agreed Spock, “but not out of the question as far as their psychopathology goes. I have encountered such creatures before, you see. That is why Starfleet brought me in from Romulus, asking me to delay my work on unification between the Vulcans and Romulans, and focus instead on this rather pressing question.”

“You did?” Shelby turned to M’Ress. “Have you as well, Lieutenant? Or you, Arex? You served with the Ambassador ...”

“It was before their time, Captain. The encounter involved an individual purporting to be Apollo, on Stardate ...” He paused half a moment, recalling information. “... 3468.1. In the vicinity of planet Pollux IV, the Enterprisewas accosted and held immobile in space through a rather unique method.”

“Did it involve a giant hand?” asked Shelby. “Because, if so, that’s what happened to Captain Calhoun as well.”

Spock blinked slightly. “Apparently it was not as unique as I had thought.”

“Obviously Apollo’s kind isn’t all that interested in coming up with new tricks,” said Arex.

“You stay with what works,” Mueller said with a shrug.

“In any event,” continued Spock, “Apollo’s obsession likewise involved being worshipped.”

“Why?” asked Shelby. “Why such interest in being worshipped? It sounds like ...”

“Ego run amok?” suggested Kalinda. “Because I’ve had some small experience with that.” When Si Cwan stared at her in surprise, Kalinda immediately added, “I wasn’t referring to you, Cwan.”

“I should hope not,” he said archly.

Spock continued to stand precisely where he was, but Si Cwan noticed that he had steepled his fingers and appeared quite thoughtful. “Apollo’s interest in worshippers seemed to stem primarily from a sort of nostalgia. He appeared to prefer humans when they were more pliable ... more impressed by the various feats he could perform which—to more primitive minds—appeared to be magic.”

“It had to do with control, then?” asked Shelby.

“Possibly,” said Spock. “I myself did not have the opportunity to interact with Apollo to any degree when the captain and the landing party went to the planet’s surface.”

“I would have thought,” said Gleau, “that as science officer, you would have been first to the transporter pad to go down and interact with such a new and fascinating life-form.”

There was an air of challenge to Gleau’s tone that did not strike Si Cwan as especially respectful. Nor did he think it seemed that way to Shelby or the others, judging by the annoyed look that Shelby and her second-in-command gave him.

Spock, however, was naturally unperturbed. “Indeed. Were it an option, I would have been most anxious to interact with the newfound ‘god.’ Unfortunately, he was disinclined to invite me to his world.”

“On what basis?” asked Mueller.

“Apparently,” said Spock without a trace of irony, “I reminded him of Pan, and Pan always bored him.”

“Pan?” said Gleau. “That doesn’t make much sense.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Does it not?”

“What do you mean, Lieutenant Commander?” asked Shelby.