Avala and Rylek sit at the edge of a bluff, on a green hill in the midst of the Iconian city. In the middle of a garden of corals, a massive silver statue of an Iconian looms behind them, with four life-size starfighter sculptures suspended midair above him. The afternoon sun casts a long shadow behind the statues and illuminates a faint haze around the city, which stretches to the horizon in all directions, repetitive and silent. Rylek sits in meditation, his eyes half-open. Avala's arms are wrapped around her knees. She massages her temple. The sphere hovers nearby.

"I'm going to die," she says.

Rylek opens his eyes and faces her. "No. You will not die."

"Don't bullshit me, Rylek. Look around you; we are never going to get out of this city. It's an honest assessment of our situation."

"I am not bullshitting you," he protests. "It is not logical to assume we have exhausted all possibilities at this time."

She glares at him. "No. Logically, I'm going to die You think something can never happen, but then it does happen, and you realize it was the only logical outcome all along. Promising young officer Vanda Avala, always the first in her class, commended by the Imperial Guard, killed on her first planetside away mission in Starfleet. Because of her inability to respect the chain of command. I'm a cautionary tale."

"Vanda…"

"And do you know what the worst part is?" she interrupts him, gritting her teeth. "It's how goddamn disappointed in me they'll all be. I can picture it now. Isaiah making his log entry, noting the circumstances of my death. Saying something like, 'She could have made command someday.'" She chokes. "'God damn it, Vanda, why'd you have to get yourself killed?'"

Rylek stares at her for a moment. "Do you love him?"

She blinks. "What?" She faces him. "No. I don't know. Maybe, in a way. But no. No, I do not love him, Rylek. Why are you asking me that? We're friends."

"I know you are not merely 'friends.' Do not attempt to bullshit me either, to borrow your turn of phrase."

"Alright, fine." She glowers at him, her antennae low. "But what do you care? Do you not approve of me seeing Commander Sparks?"

"I would not presume to tell you how to conduct your personal life," Rylek replies. "But in this case, I do not believe it is in your best interest to be involved with him. I believe you will only end up being hurt."

"Oh really? I guess I'll ask your permission next time," Avala retorts sarcastically. "And what about you and Susan? You're spending all your time with that cat lady."

"She is not a 'cat lady.' She is a distinguished scientist. And the situation is different. We had a mind meld. One which I only did out of necessity, and with great reluctance."

"Look. It doesn't matter, because whatever Isaiah and I had, it's over. Even if we do find him – if we survive this – there's no way he'll ever trust me again."

"You deserve better, Vanda. You deserve someone who has your best interests at heart." He puts his hand on her shoulder.

She buries her head between her knees, and her shoulders shake. After a moment, she raises her head. "Ai'thal. I'm to dehydrated to cry." She swallows. "I'm scared, Rylek."

He nods. "I am afraid as well."

They stare out at the endless city for a long time. The stars are visible in the light purple sky.

"You know what I miss?" Avala says to Rylek.

"Yes, Vanda?"

She takes a deep, shaking breath, and says slowly, "Earth. I miss Earth. I loved that place. The people there were so welcoming. They were so proud of their planet and really went out of their way to make you feel at home. And they were all so committed to their philosophies of betterment of themselves, and the Federation and everything. It was hard not to get caught up in it. And their cities were really cool, and the people were all just excited to be alive. I miss being among people like that."

She swallows hard. "Andoria's always going to be home to me, but I'm just really glad I had the opportunity to spend some time on Earth. It's a great place."

"Hospitality has deep roots in traditional human cultures," Rylek says. "My people have benefitted greatly from our contact with them."

"Yeah, we have too, for sure. And don't get me wrong; some of them were jerks, of course. But jerks come in all species." She smiles weakly. "And you know, without the humans, we'd still be enemies. Isn't that weird to think?"

"The conflict between our species was highly illogical."

She looks at him. "The conflict between us is highly illogical."

They stare into each other's eyes for a long moment. Then Rylek says in a low voice, "You are not going to die, Vanda. I will not allow it. I… I cannot go through a loss like that again. I will not lose you like I lost my mother."

"Rylek…"

"You have my word on this," he says, his voice shaking. "I cannot lose you."

"Rylek, it's alright," she whispers. She leans in and kisses him on the cheek. "It's alright, it's alright."

He chokes back a sob and stares at her, his eyes wide, her face centimeters from his.

Then she leans toward him again, and he puts his hand on the side of her face and kisses her. She closes her eyes and returns the kiss, then quickly pulls back and laughs in shock. "This is crazy!"

"Vanda, if you…" he begins. She shushes him and puts her arms around his neck, and they kiss again, crouched on the hillside in the hazy, starlit afternoon. They fumble with the Iconian detention robes, lips locked, gradually undressing each other to the waist. Then they lie in the grass, holding each other close and kissing frantically.

After some time, she pulls away again and grins sheepishly. "I can't believe this is happening. It's just…" She trails off, staring behind him, and her smile disappears. "Oh my god. Do you see that?"

"What?" Rylek turns around, then sits up and follows her gaze.

Several of the corals are seeping a bright blue fluid from the tips of their branches. It forms into large globs which break off the branches and drift into the air. The sun shines through them as they lazily float in the air, with seeds visible within.

Avala stands, pulling her garment back into place. Rylek follows suit. "Are you certain that it is safe to…"

"Willing to take the risk at this point," she says, and gently takes hold of one of the globs. It sticks to her fingers as she guides it towards her face. A thin membrane bursts as she touches her lips to it, and she drinks deeply.

"Oh my god. Sweet, sweet water. A'vai'iil." It runs down the fabric of her robe, staining it bright blue. Then she rushes to take another one and gulp down the fluid.

She turns back to him, and he is smiling. She chuckles. "Um. So…"

"Dinash tal-an Aikonai!" the sphere barks at them.

Avala rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on. What? Did we damage public property or something?"

The sphere continues to drone in its alien tongue, its tone officious and aggressive. Avala backs away.

"Perhaps we should leave this place," Rylek suggests.

"I agree." They hurriedly walk away from the coral garden, down the side of the hill to a city street, glancing back anxiously. The sphere follows, continuing its monologue. As they approach the bottom of the hill, the sphere begins to admit a piercing high-frequency sound.

"Augh!" they groan, falling to their knees and clutching their ears. Thick blue blood begins to drip from Avala's antennae onto her white hair.

"S… stop…" Rylek cries as they writhe in pain.

Then there is a loud bang and a shower of sparks, and the sphere goes silent and drops to the ground.

Rylek takes his fingers out his ears and sees that they are stained green. Then he looks up to see a young woman standing behind the sphere. She is thin, with wispy black hair and clad in a close-fitting uniform that is solid black. One of her hands has been replaced by a complex cybernetic gauntlet, and the side of her head is shaved around a cortical interface implanted at her temple, holding a green lens in front of one of her eyes. Two deep ridges run from her nose up her forehead, her ears come to sharp points, and her face is covered with intricate tattoos.

Rylek looks aghast. "You… you are Romulan."

She cocks her head to one side. "Yes."

Avala shakes her head and wipes blood from her nose. Her eyes widen. "Who are you?"

The Romulan's eyes dart between them. "Lerex. My name. Lerex."

"What's a Romulan doing in the Galactic Core?" Avala demands.

"We are a homeless people with many enemies," Lerex replies, quickly and dispassionately. "And so we go where they cannot follow."

"But warp travel is not possible in the Galactic Core," Rylek protests. "Romulans do not possess superspace inversion technology. You cannot be here."

"We have our own ways of travelling in this region," Lerex says.

Avala climbs to her feet. "Well, however you got here, you saved our lives. So thanks."

Lerex regards her with a mix of curiosity and contempt. "Do not think I did this for you, Andorian." She addresses Rylek. "You are a Vulcan. We are kin. I was honour-bound to assist you."

Avala throws her hands in the air, shocked. Rylek says, "I see. Well…. it is appreciated. I am curious: how did you destroy the sphere?"

Lerex points a cybernetic finger at her cortical implant. "I break into computer systems. It is what I do, ever since I was a child. These implants. Borg technology. Smuggled out of the Dead Sectors." She glances around furtively. "We must go now. I know a place where the alien control system cannot reach us."

She begins down a street, and Rylek turns to follow her.

"Wait." Avala puts her hand on his shoulder. "Are we actually going with her? She obviously doesn't care if I live or die."

Lerex faces Rylek. "I expect you will refuse to come with me unless I provide for your…" She eyes Avala through the green lens. "Comrade."

"That is correct." He turns to Avala and says in a low voice, "If she wanted to kill us, she could simply have done nothing and allowed the sphere to use its sonic weapon. And you require nourishment."

Avala's antennae dart between Rylek and Lerex. "Alright," she says, staring, at the Romulan, defiant. "We'll go with you. But we are Starfleet officers, and we expect to be treated with respect."

Lerex raises an eyebrow. "Why are you making demands? I hardly think you are in a position to do that."

Avala clenches her fists. "Fine," she replies. "I guess I'll keep my mouth shut, then."

"Good." Lerex turns back to Rylek. "This way."

They follow Lerex as she strides purposefully down the empty street. Rylek moves close to Avala and says, "Vanda, about before…"

"I think we'd better focus on the task at hand," Avala whispers back, glaring at him.

He shrinks back. "As you wish."

"Behold: the Cenobium," Ixu announces as they approach a small cluster of dome-shaped structures. One looms large over the others, perhaps eight stories tall, with the smaller domes clustered around it in a circular pattern. There is an ornamented gate at the base of the large dome which exits into a garden illuminated by light bulbs on top of black posts.

The officers look around, and Dr. Sorensen's hand involuntarily reaches for her absent tricorder. Dr. Alomar says to Ctai, "I thought you said you'd renounced technology."

"We have," the alien replies.

He gestures towards the garden. "But you use electricity."

"That is not technology." She gestures beyond the domes at a rigidly straight river which empties into a circular pit. Where the water is falling, metal mills spin furiously, connected to a box-shaped mechanism which extends into the ground. "The River Z-Ash powers the Cenobium. The Generator was forged in ancient times by Shai Vel the Master Smith and her disciples."

Commander Sparks looks up at one of the large lightbulbs. "So these are all crafted by hand."

"Yes. Their designs are passed down to us in the Artisanal Chants."

They reach the garden, where a group of young Iconians are lying prostrate, chanting:

"C squared equals A squared plus B squared.

Bracket B plus A end squared

Equals C squared plus four times AB over two

Equals C squared plus two AB squared,

Giving C squared

Equals bracket B plus A end squared minus two AB

Equals A squared plus B squared."

A wizened old Iconian in a blue robe sits in front of the chanters, her eyes closed. She opens them at the newcomers and stands, spreading her arms at the humans. "Greetings," she addresses them. "I am Koshal Vail of the Elder Mathematicians. We are pleased that you are alive."

"Greetings, Elder," Sparks replies, extending his hand. "Commander Isaiah Sparks, of the United Federation of Planets."

Curiously, she takes his hand. "Your lips move strangely, and yet I hear Iconian. Are you telepaths?"

Sparks looks surprised. "Right. That is the universal translator. It's a piece of technology implanted into our brains. I... ah… didn't think to disable them."

Koshal Vail eyes Ctai and Ixu. "You knew of this, and brought this impurity upon me? And upon my mathematician-initiates?" The Iconian youths watch them, fascinated.

Ctai and Ixu fall prostrate before the elder. "We beg forgiveness, Koshal," Ctai says.

"I am at fault," Ixu tells her, facing down. "The impurity was already upon us, and I did not turn my mind to it."

Vail raises her hand over them. "You may rise. It is a mild impurity only." She turns to the initiates. "Run along now, and perform your ablutions. Four should suffice." The youths bow to her and hurry toward the river.

She watches as they go. "They insisted that they be the first to meet you, to demonstrate their mathematical knowledge. They were so excited. And now their parents are going to be more insufferable than ever."

"We meant no disrespect, Elder," Sparks says.

She faces him. "There is no need to apologize, Commander Isaiah Sparks. You may leave your devices on; I prefer to take a flexible view of ritual purity. One learns more that way. It simply means we will have to delay your meeting with the other Elders."

Ixu says, "Two of their companions were taken by the Apparatus."

"And you are anxious to rescue them?" she asks Sparks.

He nods. "Yes. Ctai said there was an 84.3%chance that they're still alive."

"Did she?" She turns her head. "Then she forgot to take into account the inherent potentiality of Primary Spirit. The uncanny ability of sentient beings to resist domination by machines, especially in recent millennia. The true probability is 92.16%."

"Well, that's… somewhat better," Sparks says.

Ctai steps back. "I… I will atone for my error, Koshal."

"Spirit mathematics are difficult even for me," Vail reassures her. "Learn from it, but do not be troubled." She eyes the Starfleet officers. "You travellers will require sustenance. Come, I have arranged for a feast to be prepared for you. I chose the ingredients myself, to maximize the chance that you will find it delicious, and minimize the chance that it will be lethal to your species."

Sorensen laughs, then quickly stifles it and glances nervously at Sparks. He does not react. "You have our gratitude, Koshal," Sparks says.

They walk towards the large dome, and Sparks introduces Sorensen and Alomar. As he explains the circumstances of their arrival to the elder, Sorensen falls behind the group and walks beside Ctai, who is walking slowly.

"Um… I laughed back there before because I thought Koshal Vail was joking, but I guess she wasn't, and I'm worried that I may have offended her. I don't want to cause a diplomatic incident…" She looks closely at the Iconian. "Are you alright?"

Ctai faces the ground. "I apologize if my mistaken calculations caused you needless worry."

"Oh. It doesn't matter. The probabilities don't make us worry any less," Sorensen replies. "And, um, I don't know if this is the same thing, but my mother used to make a point of publically correcting my mistakes too, in science and otherwise. I always hated it."

Ctai looks up at her, blinking sideways. "I appreciate you saying that, Dr. Susan Sorensen."

"Susan is fine." She looks around at the high domes. "How accurate are those predictions, anyway? Can you really calculate the probability of events happening in the future?"

"Yes. Mathematicians are often called upon to predict the outcome of events." Seeing Sorensen's blank expression, she continues, "Living beings and societies behave according to predictable patterns, just as nature and technology does. The equations can be discovered when you have access to a sufficient quantity of data. How long has your civilization existed?"

"Ah… well, the Federation has been around for almost three hundred years, and I guess before that, humans started becoming sedentary about eleven thousand years ago or so."

"I understand. The Order of Shai Kesh has lived in this place for nearly one hundred thousand years. Our history is recorded in great detail in the Chronicler Chants. Through study of the chants, we gather the data we need to test our hypotheses."

"Wow." Sorensen's eyes widen. "Those chants must be long."

"Much information can be stored in music other than verbally, especially when there are many chanting. But to memorize them requires a lifetime of training."

Sorensen looks around. "Are you saying you don't have a writing system? Um… sorry if that's an insulting question."

The Iconian tips her head to one side. "It is quite alright, Susan. Of course, our ancestors had a system of writing. But we have renounced it. We call it 'Secondary Spirit.' In the act of encoding information, a being of Primary Spirit such as you or I transfers a part of our spirit into the world around us. In doing so, we build our own prison. That is why writing is forbidden. It is a form of technology." She pauses. "That must sound very strange to you."

"Well, honestly, I'm just glad you're not trying to kill us. We run into our share of hostile species."

"I feel the same way, Susan. It is a blessing from the Aeon when we are able to host a species such as yours. It disrupts our calculations." She peers at Sorensen. "It is exciting."

They reach a smaller dome, which is silver and covered with intricate carved designs. Koshal Vail leads them to a gateway, where she opens a tall door inscribed with images of an Iconian meditating in the middle of a city of domed buildings, with large, sleek starships positioned overhead. The interior of the dome is filled with a dizzying amount of art of various types. The walls are painted with vivid images of cosmic beings, and statues of meditating Iconians of various sizes fill the room. The Starfleet officers gaze around the space in amazement.

"This way, please." The elder leads them on a winding path through the statuary to an alcove with an oval-shaped table with long benches on either side. She sits at the centre of one of the sides, with Ixu at her left and Ctai to her right. The humans sit opposite the Iconians, with Sparks in the centre and Alomar and Sorensen facing Ixu and Ctai.

"This is a private meeting-place reserved for Elders," Vail tells them. "Ordinarily we would host you in the main dining chamber, but it is late into second-half-of-night, and most of the Order is asleep. Which will give us time to figure out how to communicate with them without the use of your technology." She looks up as a young initiate arrives, pushing a trolley carrying clay bowls. "But we will figure that out later. For now, we feast."

The initiate sets the bowls in front of each of the officers, and Sparks nods in appreciation, taking care to say nothing. The initiate nods back, and then places bowls in front of Vail, Ixu, and Ctai. He pushes the trolley away. Then there is a low droning sound from another part of the dome, and the sound of stringed instruments.

Alomar looks down at his bowl, which is filled with deep red globes the size of kiwi fruits. Sparks leans close to him and whispers, "Can we eat this?"

"I believe so. I had a moment to scan our companions when we first met them, and I believe they eat mostly the same types of foods as we do."

"Are you concerned that it would be edible?" Vail asks. A long tongue darts from her mouth into the bowl, pulling a whole fruit into her mouth.

Sparks takes one of the fruits from his bowl. "It's one of the hazards of first contact. Normally we run a complete scan first, but given the circumstances…" He eyes the fruit for a moment, then takes a bite. It is dry and crunchy, and a dark shade of violet inside. He chews it gingerly, then swallows. "Hm. Interesting. Is this cooked?"

"Yes," Ixu tells him. "And seasoned with marsh spice."

Alomar watches Sparks for a moment. "Well, I believe I'm willing to take the chance as well." He and Sorensen bite into the fruits.

"Do you like it?" Ctai asks.

"I've never tasted anything quite like it," Sparks replies.

The initiate returns and passes each of them a clay drinking vessel containing a black liquid. When he leaves, Alomar sniffs the drink. "Is this alcohol?"

"It is. We call it Pal-Shavoth," Vail says. "It is a traditional Iconian drink."

The humans look at each other, then Sparks raises his glass. "In that case, cheers. When our species made first contact with life beyond our world, the first thing Zefram Cochrane did was to take them to a bar and share a drink with them. It was the start of a relationship that's lasted four centuries and brought immeasurable benefits to our people." He looks between the Iconians. "May this be the start of a similarly beneficial relationship between our two peoples. To first contact, and to our generous hosts."

The humans toast, and the Iconians mimic the gesture. They sip their drinks.

"Dios mio," Alomar says. "That is magnificent."

"It is certainly the finest Pal-Shavoth I have ever had," says Ixu. "Your arrival has given us an opportunity to open the highest quality vintage."

"Do you often encounter alien species on this world?" Sparks inquires.

"It is rare. It has been eight generations since the Order of Shai Kesh hosted alien visitors. Alien ships come to Terminus from time to time, but if there are survivors, they are usually taken by the Apparatus and we do not see them."

"Like Vanda and Rylek."

Sorensen takes a small sip of her drink. "Koshal, if I may… do your people have radio technology?"

"Radio-wave communication? Yes, I believe there is something in the Chronicle…?"

"In the age of the Three Hermitages, radio technology was used to maintain communication lines," Ixu confirms. "But since the Reconsolidation, there has been no need for it."

"The schematics would be in the Artisinal Chants," Ctai says. "The Artisans may be able to construct a radio transmitter."

"That would be greatly appreciated. With any luck, it'll allow us to contact our crew," Sparks says to her.

"We will confer with them in the morning." Vail inserts her tongue into the cup and finishes the liquid inside. "Tell us of your 'United Federation of Planets.'"

"It's an interplanetary alliance comprised of over two hundred different species, dedicated to the principles of peaceful coexistence and scientific exploration. The three of us come from a planet called Earth, far from here in one of the galactic arms. In the Alpha Quadrant."

"Then… do you know of Iconia, our ancestral homeworld?" Ixu tilts his head.

Sparks nods. "I've never been there myself, but it is actually within Federation territory."

"It is a lifeless husk, no doubt," Vail says.

"Well, the Federation has an archaeological station… but yeah, there's not much left, I'm sorry to say."

"The enemies of the Blind Ancestors were relentless," Ixu says. He refills his drink, then pours more for Alomar and Sparks. "Tell me – have you encountered any other species here in the Galactic Core? The Strind, perhaps? Or the Bal'Horai or Thekar?"

"Only a species called the Gla'hua," Alomar says. "Our ship is the first Federation vessel to be able to travel in this region."

Ctai darts her tongue into her cup and slurps from it, then says, "You have travelled half-way across the galaxy into a region of space that is unknown to you. Why?"

"I think we're looking for the same thing you are," Sorensen says. "We seek to expand our knowledge of the universe."

Vail refills her drink. "Our ancestors were like you. There was a time, hundreds of millennia ago, when Iconian ships ventured into the unknown, propelled by the technology of the day. The myths of our ancestors tell of their voyages, the adventures of the captains of that age." She pauses. "They were blind to the fact that the true trek was not a spatial but a technological one. They gained the ability to travel instantly throughout the galaxy, and the ships and crews and captains became obsolete. Then they developed the ability to shape the reality around them, and the journey became obsolete. And finally they developed the ability to synthesize organic beings, and life itself became obsolete." She sets her cup down. "That is what ultimately destroyed our ancestors. The destruction of Iconia brought their empire to an end, but it mattered little to a species who could create a new world where their enemies could never reach them."

"Create a new world…?" Alomar asks.

"There were no terrestrial planets in this system before our ancestors arrived," Ixu explains. "Their technology allowed them to create entire worlds out of nothing."

"Fascinating. The Federation has recently developed matter projector technology, but something like that is far beyond our abilities." The doctor strokes his chin. "And yet there are no other living Iconians besides your order?"

Vail says, "Through technology, they answered the question of how to survive. But they never asked the greater question: the question of why. Shai Kesh asked that question, and it led her to leave the habitat-cities and reject all technology for a life of contemplation. She gained the true knowledge that all consciousness is an emanation of the sacred Aeon, and all else is illusion. And that we chain our spirits to that illusion through technology. She and her disciples built this community and survived while gradually her people simply ceased to be." She eyes Sparks. "You do not agree with our philosophy."

"It's quite intriguing," Sparks replies. "And it's not as different as you might think. In fact, the very core of our philosophy is to strive to better ourselves and our society. We believe scientific exploration is an important part of that. Obviously, we feel differently about technology than you do, given our different experiences. For us, technology is a means to self-improvement, rather than an end in itself." He sips his drink. "But you know, sometimes I wonder. I look at something like the matter projector technology we had on Icarus. I'm sure it would seem pretty crude to you. But I don't know… sometimes I feel like our species is on the verge of some really profound changes. Changes that are going to affect the very nature of humanity." He stares at the art on the walls.

Alomar raises his glass. "To the final frontier."

"To the final frontier," Sparks and Sorensen reply. Under the table, Sorensen's foot brushes Ctai's leg.

Koshal Vail touches her hand to her temple and closes her eyes. Then she teeters backwards in her seat and falls backwards, crashing to the floor.

"Koshal!" Ctai cries, kneeling next to the fallen elder as Ixu watches, stunned. Milk-white blood pools next to Vail's head.

Alomar rushes to Vail's side and searches for her pulse. He looks up at the Iconians. "She is alive. But not knowing her physiology, there is not much else I can say. Can you tell me anything?"

"This is not like the Koshal," Ctai answers. "I have never known her to be affected this way by Pal-Shavoth."

"Do you have medical practitioners?"

"We can awaken the Elder Physicians," Ixu responds.

"We should take her to them immediately." Alomar lifts the alien's head, and Ixu helps lift her up. They carry her towards the exit of the dome, Sparks, Sorensen, and Ctai following close behind.

The initiate is standing near the exit, his eyes wide.

"What is it, initiate?" Ctai asks. "The Koshal is injured."

His voice shaking, he says, "It is not just her. The mathematician-initiates. They have fallen ill."

"The ones we encountered?" Sparks asks. The initiate recoils, covering his auditory canals. "Please, alien! Your language defiles me."

The officers glance between each other. Ctai says to the initiate, "Tell the Physicians we are coming."

"What about them?" He points to the humans.

"They are our guests. Ixu and I will tend to them. Go now."

The initiate leaves. Ixu says to Alomar, "I can carry the elder from here. Go with Ctai; she will take you to my quarters. We will figure out what is happening."

"Let me help. I am a doctor."

"I thank you, Tomas Alomar, but your presence would be disruptive, and you would have to deactivate your translator device. It is best that you remain in our care until the Elders rule otherwise."

Alomar looks at Sparks, who has a stern expression on his face. "Very well," the doctor replies. Ixu props Vail on his shoulders and strides toward another dome. The officers follow Ctai as she leads them toward the gateway of the large central dome.

Sorensen turns to Sparks and whispers, "Shit. Do you think we somehow caused this?"

"I don't know," Sparks answers. "If so, we'll find out. But in the meantime, it certainly looks like we did, and that could be a problem for us."

To be continued...