Phuong offered Trip a lopsided smile. “Very astute, Commander. The Adigeons also have other talents that we’re going to need.”

“Ah. Our Romulan disguises.”

Phuong nodded. “The Adigeons can provide medical procedures ranging from simple plastic surgeries to genetic alterations that haven’t been available on Earth since the Eugenics Wars ended.”

“So far, no human has ever seen what a Romulan looks like,” Trip said. “So I take it that the Adigeons know a lot more about that subject than we do.”

“That’s correct, although the Adigeons have been well paid to keep such secrets to themselves. But thanks to a highly bribable Adigeon plastic surgeon, you and I will be going under the knife. We’ll not only receive all the appropriate surgical alterations, we’ll also be fitted with ear‑implanted translation devices to help us communicate with any Romulans we encounter. By this time tomorrow, our own mothers probably won’t recognize us.”

The thought of his grieving mother almost made Trip wince. But the image also reminded him that the sooner this mission was completed, the sooner he’d be able to return home to comfort her in person.

“And is this process reversible?” Trip said.

“So I’ve been told.”

Trip wished Phuong had sounded a little more confident about that, but decided to table that particular question for now. “So what happens once we’re in disguise, Tinh?”

“We will meet with members of a Romulan dissident faction known as the Ejhoi Ormiin.”

Trip tried to get his lips around the name and failed utterly. “The what?”

“ Ejhoi Ormiin. According to my intelligence sources, the phrase roughly translates from the Romulan Rihannsulanguage as ‘to decide with finality on the best of several options.’ It’s the name of a group that opposes the Romulan Star Empire’s current ethic of expansion and conquest.”

Hope warred with suspicion deep in Trip’s gut. “And you trust them.”

“We have to make our leaps of faith somewhere,Commander, or else we’ll never get anywhere.At any rate, the Ejhoi Ormiinalready know we are coming to meet with them. They are presently harboring an important Romulan warp scientist, a man named Ehrehin.”

“ Howimportant?”

Phuong’s mien quickly took on a more sober cast. “How important was Henry Archer? Or Zefram Cochrane?”

Trip felt a chill of apprehension slowly ascend the length of his spine. That important,he thought.

Phuong continued, his tone growing progressively grimmer: “This Doctor Ehrehin’s expertise could very well spell the difference between victory and defeat in the coming conflict, depending upon which side gains sole access to him. Imagine what will happen to Earth if the Romulans succeed in building whole fleets of warp seven‑capable ships before we can. Ehrehin is the key to the whole thing.”

Trip sat in silence, processing what Phuong had told him, imagining one doomsday scenario after another and finding each of them uncomfortably believable. He could feel the forces of history and contingency already in motion all around him, like the faint buzzing of warp‑field lines against his skin when he tended Enterprise’s engines. How many times before had catastrophes such as the coming one happened, or nearly happened, in human history? He recalled that just prior to Earth’s first space age, the finest rocket scientists of the day had been employed by Nazi Germany. Had the United States failed to recruit Wernher von Braun just after the Second World War, the Soviets might well have added his talents to those of Sergei Korolev, thus completely changing the outcome of the U.S.‑Soviet space race and the Cold War that had spawned it.

Onlythis is evenmore serious,Trip thought. Because the safety of the Earth and all her allies is at stake.

Still, Trip had to cling to the hope that an all‑out war with the Romulans was still somehow avoidable. “There’s no way around this thing, is there?” he asked Phuong at length.

“A way around war with the Romulans?” Phuong’s expression became grave, and he shook his head. “I’m afraid I’ve come to understand the Romulans a little too well to believe that’s possible.”

That’s saying a lot, considering the fact that he’s never evenseen a Romulan,Trip thought. Aloud, he said, “Don’t you think Romulan dissidents–like these Ejhoi Ormiinpeople–might have anything to say?”

Phuong chuckled, but it was a dry, humorless sound. “Passion isn’t the same thing as power, Commander. Unfortunately, the Ejhoi Ormiinaren’t in charge, and that’s not likely to change anytime soon.”

Trip sat back in silence, staring straight ahead at the starfield through which the Bransonwas headed. He was suddenly struck by the sheer immensity of the implacable forces arrayed against Earth and her allies–and by the Coalition’s remote chance of survival, given its apparent blindness to the very real dangers that lay directly in its path.

“Why is it that only a few people can see what ought to be obvious?” he said a few moments later, once he’d found his voice again.

Phuong answered in soothing, encouraging tones. “Maybe certain people can’t help but see it–especially if they’re trained problem solvers.”

That seemed to Trip entirely too facile an answer, and he turned to cast a skeptical eye upon the other man. “There are lots of ‘problem solvers’ on Earth who have bigger brains than either of us do, Tinh.”

“Granted. But a lot of those ‘big brains’ are pursuing other agendas, too–like struggling to hang onto a high political office or an admiral’s pips. Public controversy and fear can work against those sort of agendas, and people like Nathan Samuels and Admiral Gardner damned well know it, especially now that they need to put the Terra Prime attacks behind them in order to keep the public calm and the Coalition together.”

“What about the other Coalition worlds?” Trip asked. “Aren’t any of them willing to listen and help?”

“Our bureau–Section 31, as you call it–is a secret organization based on Earth, Commander. And it would be a lot tougher for us to staysecret if we were to tip our hand to Earth’s allies–to say nothing of the damage we might do to interstellar relations if our allies ever got the notion that Earth is either an active or an unwitting host to what some might call a rogue spy network. Not that they don’t use similar means and methods themselves, mind you.”

Trip nodded. “Like the Vulcan agents who spied on the Andorians while posing as monks on P’Jem.”

“Exactly. Besides, I wouldn’t count on a lot of help from the allied planets right now anyway. They’ve each got their hands full. The Andorians and Vulcans are stillbusy spying on each other, even now. Minister T’Pau is still in the process of purging the Vulcan High Command of V’Las loyalists, which has hamstrung Vulcan’s military response capabilities, at least for a while. The Coridan worlds have been so close to civil war over the past few years that I doubt Coridan Prime would share its warp‑seven technology with Earth in time to provide any tactical advantage over the Romulans. And the Tellarites never seem to get tired of arguing among themselves, or with anyone else, for that matter.”

Trip sighed, not sure how to respond, though he was certain that Phuong’s analysis was pretty much spot‑on, if a bit cynical. “Sounds like you don’t have a lot of faith in the Coalition.”

“Not true,” Phuong said, waving a hand as though to dismiss Trip’s words. “I’m just realistic enough not to expect it to solve every problem overnight. The Coalition is only a starting point for Earth’s future. It’s going to need quite a bit of time to prove itself truly useful to all the parties involved.”

“But it won’t get that time if the Romulans move before we’re ready for them,” Trip said.