The announcement came while Mercer was trying to decide whether the coffee was worth finishing.
It had been sitting on the duty-room table long enough for the surface to go still. Not cold. Enterprise coffee seemed capable of remaining unpleasantly warm forever.
Mercer lifted the cup anyway.
The overhead speaker clicked.
“All decks, security alert.”
The cup stopped halfway to his mouth.
Nobody moved for perhaps half a second.
Then everybody did.
Kane stood.
“Condition One.”
Mercer put the coffee down.
Rainer was already at the equipment locker. Hale pushed his chair back and reached for the duty terminal. Ox swallowed whatever he had been eating and stood.
Mercer clipped his phaser to his belt.
His hand checked the setting.
Stun.
Kane saw him do it.
Mercer noticed Kane seeing him.
Nothing was said.
That was becoming more common.
A few months ago Mercer had spent a considerable amount of time wondering whether Kane thought he was doing something wrong.
Now he had begun to understand that Kane looked at everyone like that.
Usually.
Kane opened the locker beside Rainer.
“Full issue.”
Rainer handed him a communicator.
“What are we looking for?”
“Don't know.”
“Threat?”
“Don't know.”
“Location?”
“Don't know.”
She stopped with a phaser in her hand.
“You know, you're usually more helpful than this.”
“No, I'm not.”
Ox made a sound that might have been a laugh.
Rainer looked at him.
Ox became interested in fastening his equipment belt.
Hale turned from the terminal.
“Security Control is restricting access to Engineering, Auxiliary Control, the hangar deck, armories, communications systems and primary computer access.”
“Reason?”
Hale looked at Kane.
“Possible hostile infiltration.”
That changed the room.
Mercer felt it before he completely understood why.
Not an intruder.
Not an escaped prisoner.
Not something loose aboard ship.
Infiltration.
Somebody who belonged enough to get inside.
Or looked like they did.
Rainer's expression lost what little humor remained in it.
“Do we have a description?”
“No.”
“Species?”
“No.”
“Number?”
“No.”
Rainer stared at Hale.
Hale turned back to the terminal.
“That's everything we've been given.”
“That's fucking useful.”
Kane fastened his communicator.
“Enough.”
Rainer looked at him.
“What?”
“Stop looking for information we don't have.”
She opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Mercer picked up his tricorder.
Kane pointed at him.
“Leave it.”
Mercer stopped.
“Hale.”
Hale already had his.
“Right.”
Mercer put his back.
Kane moved to the wall display.
A diagram of their assigned section appeared.
The duty room sat near the center.
Kane touched three points.
“Hale, Engineering access junction. Rainer, computer core approach. Ox, armory passage.”
He looked at Mercer.
“You're with me.”
Mercer nodded.
Rainer glanced toward the display.
“Stationary?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Until you're relieved.”
“That wasn't the question.”
Kane looked at her.
Rainer took her communicator.
“Computer core. Got it.”
They moved.
* * *
The Enterprise looked exactly the same.
That bothered Mercer.
He didn't know what he had expected.
Security Condition One should have changed something.
Different lights.
Different sounds.
Crewmen pressed against bulkheads while armed security teams ran through corridors.
Something.
Instead the doors opened and a yeoman walked past carrying three padds.
She nodded to Kane.
“Sergeant Major.”
Kane nodded back.
Mercer followed him into the corridor.
The doors closed behind them.
Somewhere inside the bulkhead a relay clicked.
Ventilation moved warm air across Mercer's face.
Two technicians came around the corner arguing quietly about a power diagnostic.
One saw Kane.
The argument stopped.
Both men passed.
Mercer looked after them.
Kane kept walking.
Mercer caught up.
“Where are we going?”
“Junction twelve.”
“What's there?”
“People.”
Mercer waited.
Kane did not continue.
“That's what we're checking?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
Kane stopped.
Mercer nearly passed him.
Kane looked down the corridor.
A crewman in sciences blue stood at a wall terminal. Another came out of a side passage carrying a case. Farther away, a woman in command gold entered a turbolift.
Kane looked at Mercer.
“Anything that shouldn't be.”
Mercer looked down the corridor again.
Everything belonged.
That was the problem.
He had been aboard Enterprise long enough to recognize faces without knowing names. People became part of the ship that way. The older engineering technician with the limp. The communications woman who always carried two padds when everyone else carried one. The lieutenant who drank tea in the mess at hours Mercer thought should legally qualify as morning.
He knew them.
Sort of.
He had never considered how useless that was.
The man at the terminal finished what he was doing and walked toward them.
Kane stepped into his path.
“Identification.”
The man slowed.
His eyes went first to Kane.
Then Mercer.
Then the phasers.
“Lieutenant Carver. Astrophysics.”
“I know.”
The lieutenant blinked.
Kane held out his hand.
Carver produced his identification anyway.
Kane checked it.
Mercer watched the lieutenant.
Carver seemed irritated.
Or nervous.
Mercer couldn't tell.
That suddenly seemed important.
Kane handed the identification back.
“Thank you, Lieutenant.”
Carver took it.
“Sergeant Major.”
He continued down the corridor.
Mercer watched him go.
“You knew him.”
“Yes.”
“Then why check?”
Kane started walking.
Mercer followed.
The answer came after three steps.
“Because I knew him.”
Mercer frowned.
He looked back at Carver.
The lieutenant turned the corner and disappeared.
Mercer faced forward again.
Kane had not slowed.
Mercer wasn't sure he understood the answer.
He suspected that was going to happen a lot today.
* * *
Rainer had been standing outside the computer-core access corridor for eleven minutes when she decided she hated it.
Not the assignment.
The corridor.
There was nothing wrong with it.
That was part of the problem.
The bulkheads were clean. The lights worked. The deck was level. The door behind her stayed closed. The corridor ahead stretched thirty feet to a junction where crewmen occasionally appeared, made whatever turn their lives required and disappeared again.
She could hear Enterprise around her.
The low vibration under her boots.
Air moving.
Machinery somewhere behind the wall.
A turbolift arriving two corridors away.
Nothing useful.
She shifted her weight.
A crewman approached.
Engineering.
Male.
Human.
Approximately forty.
Tool case.
He saw her.
His eyes dropped briefly to the phaser at her hip.
Then back to her face.
There.
Rainer straightened.
The engineer slowed.
“Problem?”
“Identification.”
He looked at the door behind her.
“I work in there.”
“Congratulations.”
His eyes returned to her.
Rainer held out her hand.
He sighed and produced his identification.
Rainer checked it.
Petty Officer James Varley.
Computer maintenance.
Authorized access.
She looked at him.
He looked back.
Something about his face irritated her.
That was not evidence.
She knew that.
It remained irritating.
“What are you doing?”
“Scheduled diagnostic on memory channel three.”
“Scheduled by?”
“Chief Barrows.”
“When?”
“About an hour ago.”
Rainer looked at the identification again.
Varley shifted the tool case from his right hand to his left.
“Can I go to work?”
Rainer took out her communicator.
His mouth tightened.
Good.
He could be annoyed.
She called.
“Rainer to Security Control.”
“Security Control.”
“Verify work order for Petty Officer Varley. Computer core, memory channel three.”
A pause.
Varley looked down the corridor.
Rainer watched him look.
Maybe he was impatient.
Maybe he was checking whether anyone was coming.
Maybe he had an itch between his shoulder blades.
Maybe Rainer needed to stop doing this eleven minutes into the assignment.
The communicator answered.
“Work order confirmed. Logged zero-nine-forty. Chief Barrows authorization.”
Rainer looked at Varley.
Varley looked at her.
She handed back the identification.
“Have fun.”
He took it.
“You always this friendly?”
“No.”
He waited.
Rainer smiled.
“This is me being professional.”
Varley went through the door.
Rainer watched it close.
She waited until the lock indicator returned to red.
Eleven minutes.
One engineer.
Completely legitimate.
She shifted her weight again.
This was going to be a very long day.
* * *
Ox liked the armory passage.
There was a chair.
He wasn't sitting in it.
Kane had not told him he couldn't.
Kane had also not told him he could.
Ox had decided to leave the question alone.
The chair sat beside the armory control station, empty and comfortable-looking.
Ox stood six feet away.
A security crewman approached.
Ox knew him.
Davis.
They had eaten breakfast together three days earlier.
Davis had complained about the eggs.
Ox had eaten his.
And Davis's.
Davis stopped.
“Hey, Ox.”
“Hey.”
He stepped toward the armory door.
Ox moved in front of it.
Davis stopped again.
“Need to draw a Type Two.”
“Identification.”
Davis stared at him.
“Seriously?”
“Yep.”
“You know me.”
“Yep.”
Davis waited.
Ox waited too.
Davis sighed.
He handed over his identification.
Ox checked it.
Davis.
Security.
Authorized.
Ox looked at the requisition.
Phaser, Type Two.
Authorization valid.
He handed everything back.
Davis shook his head.
“You think I got replaced since breakfast?”
“Could've.”
Davis stared at him.
Ox thought about it.
“Probably didn't.”
Davis laughed.
“Thanks.”
Ox opened the armory.
Davis entered.
Ox closed it behind him.
Then waited.
The chair remained beside the wall.
Ox looked at it.
He looked down the empty corridor.
Then at the chair again.
No.
Not yet.
* * *
Hale had data.
That should have helped.
It did not.
He stood beside the Engineering access junction with his tricorder open and a list of authorized personnel displayed on the wall terminal.
Names.
Departments.
Clearances.
Work assignments.
Current duty status.
The Enterprise knew an astonishing amount about where people were supposed to be.
It knew considerably less about where they actually were.
Hale had discovered that within twenty minutes.
A ship did not operate according to a perfect diagram.
People traded duties.
Supervisors sent crewmen somewhere else.
Equipment failed.
Someone forgot a tool.
Someone needed a replacement component.
Someone took a wrong turbolift because they were thinking about something else.
Every deviation looked interesting until Hale checked it.
Then it became a person doing their job.
A technician arrived seven minutes before his scheduled shift.
Hale checked him.
He had come early because his roommate snored.
A machinist entered through the wrong junction.
Hale checked her.
The normal passage had been closed for maintenance.
A communications specialist appeared on an Engineering deck.
Hale checked him twice.
He was delivering a component.
Hale watched him disappear through the authorized door.
He looked down at the tricorder.
Three irregularities.
Three explanations.
Nothing.
The fourth person approaching was Mercer.
Hale lowered the tricorder.
Mercer stopped.
“Identification.”
Hale stared at him.
Mercer smiled.
Hale continued staring.
The smile weakened.
“Seriously?”
“Apparently.”
Mercer took out his identification.
Hale checked it.
Mercer.
Security.
Authorized.
He handed it back.
Mercer looked offended.
“You know me.”
“Yes.”
“Kane said that too.”
Hale glanced past him.
Kane stood at the far end of the corridor speaking quietly into a communicator.
“Then why are you surprised?”
Mercer looked back at Kane.
Then Hale.
“I'm starting to think I'm the only person who didn't understand how this works.”
Hale opened his tricorder again.
“Probably.”
Mercer frowned.
“You could've lied.”
“I could have.”
“You didn't.”
“No.”
Mercer looked toward Engineering.
“Anything?”
“Nothing.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Thirty-eight minutes.”
Mercer looked impressed.
Hale wasn't sure why.
“Find anything weird?”
“Sixteen things.”
Mercer's expression changed.
“Sixteen?”
“All legitimate.”
“Oh.”
Mercer leaned slightly closer.
“Anything that might not be?”
“No.”
“Oh.”
There it was again.
That little disappointment.
Hale understood it.
He had felt something similar after the sixth explanation.
That annoyed him.
The purpose of the assignment was to find nothing.
Finding nothing meant nothing had happened.
That should have been preferable.
Instead some part of his brain had already begun wanting one of the numbers not to fit.
Hale disliked that part of his brain.
Kane approached.
“Mercer.”
Mercer straightened.
“Yeah.”
Kane looked at him.
“Yes, Sergeant Major.”
“Relieve Ox.”
Mercer nodded.
Kane looked at Hale.
“Anything?”
“Sixteen irregularities.”
Mercer looked at him.
Hale ignored him.
“All resolved.”
Kane nodded.
That was it.
No disappointment.
No praise.
No request to keep digging until something became suspicious.
Just a nod.
Mercer headed toward the armory.
Kane remained.
Hale looked at his tricorder.
“Do we have any additional intelligence?”
“No.”
“Any indication of a specific target?”
“No.”
“Method of infiltration?”
“No.”
“Expected objective?”
“No.”
Hale looked at Kane.
“So we're looking for an unknown number of people of unknown appearance with an unknown objective using an unknown method.”
“Yes.”
Hale waited.
Kane looked down the corridor.
“That bother you?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Kane walked away.
Hale watched him go.
There were days when talking to Kane was like being handed half a manual and discovering all the useful pages had been removed.
Hale turned back to the terminal.
Another name had appeared.
Wrong deck.
He checked it.
Medical technician.
Hale frowned.
The technician approached carrying a sealed case.
“Identification.”
The technician stopped.
Hale began again.
* * *
Mercer found Ox standing beside the empty chair.
He looked at the chair.
Then Ox.
“How long have you been standing?”
Ox checked the wall chronometer.
“Forty-six minutes.”
“There's a chair.”
“Yep.”
“Why aren't you sitting?”
Ox looked at the chair.
“Didn't seem right yet.”
Mercer considered that.
It made absolutely no sense.
It also somehow did.
“Anything?”
“Davis got a phaser.”
“Davis?”
“Egg guy.”
Mercer waited.
Ox waited too.
Mercer decided he didn't want to know.
“Kane says I relieve you.”
Ox nodded.
He handed Mercer the armory access log.
“Three people. All good.”
“That's it?”
“Yep.”
Ox stretched.
His shoulders rolled beneath the red shirt.
Mercer took position.
Ox looked at the chair.
Then at Mercer.
“Think you can sit now.”
“Why?”
“You're here.”
Mercer frowned.
Ox walked away.
Mercer looked after him.
Then at the chair.
He sat.
For approximately eight seconds.
Then he stood again.
The chair suddenly felt like a test.
He wasn't sure who had set it.
* * *
The first hour ended without incident.
So did the second.
By then the security alert had spread into the texture of the ship.
Crewmen had stopped asking why they were being checked.
Doors opened more slowly because authorization had to be verified.
People carried identification where it could be reached easily.
Security personnel appeared at junctions that normally had none.
Nothing dramatic happened.
The Enterprise continued operating.
Meals were served.
Repairs were made.
Reports moved between departments.
Crewmen went on duty.
Crewmen went off duty.
And five people in red shirts watched them do it.
Rainer had challenged twenty-three people.
All twenty-three belonged where they were.
Hale had accumulated forty-one irregularities.
All forty-one had explanations.
Ox had stood at three different posts.
Mercer had begun to hate chairs.
Kane had been everywhere.
That last part bothered Mercer.
He saw Kane at the armory.
Then Engineering.
Then the computer-core approach.
Then back at the duty room.
Once Mercer passed him at a junction and wondered how Kane had gotten there first.
He almost asked.
Then decided against it.
During the third hour, Mercer stood beside Ox at a temporary checkpoint outside Auxiliary Control.
Nobody had passed them for twelve minutes.
Mercer knew because he had started counting.
He stopped counting at eleven minutes because counting made it worse.
Ox stood on the opposite side of the corridor.
Neither spoke.
The ship hummed.
Mercer shifted his weight.
Ox scratched his cheek.
Mercer looked left.
Nothing.
Right.
Nothing.
He could hear someone working behind the Auxiliary Control door.
A tool struck metal.
Pause.
Again.
Pause.
Again.
Mercer had learned the rhythm.
He hated the rhythm.
He looked at Ox.
Ox looked back.
Mercer looked away.
Thirty seconds passed.
Maybe forty.
“This is really boring.”
“Yep.”
Kane sat at the small duty station behind them reviewing access reports.
He did not look up.
“Security work is ninety-nine percent boredom.”
Mercer glanced back.
Kane turned a page.
Mercer waited.
Kane didn't continue.
“What's the other one percent?”
“Sheer terror.”
Kane kept reading.
Mercer looked at Ox.
Ox looked at Mercer.
They both shrugged.
Mercer turned back to the corridor.
Nothing happened.
For a very long time.