"Get it off! Get it off! Get it off!"

"I never did it wasn't me you can't say-"

~ - in the name of hell is *that* and how can - ~

"Just hold steady! Hold steady and they can't-"

"The keptin said to get to Command and I'm going to

Command! You vant to go back by youselwes, go on!"

"I never would have thought it possible, I never would

have imagined, did you ever see, it must have been a

massacre, how much blood does one body hold anyway?"

"Ba ba ... ba ba ... ba ba black sheep..."

"Close up there, close up and stay together!"

~ - floor there a minute ago, I would have *sworn* it,

and I can't lose it now, they - ~

" - just fine, hang on , we'll - somebody *shut* him up!

Put that *down*, Henderson, I didn't mean -"

~ - can't stand it have to stand it can't stand it - ~

"Look out! Look out!"

~Fascinating.~

Spock paused mid-stride as the formerly solid deck

plates warped themselves into a deck-plate coloured

swamp with a bubbling bog hole directly beneath his

foot. He narrowed his eyes, and then deliberately

looked up at the corridor ahead and kept walking.

As he had expected, the floor was there when he stepped

on it. Behind him, he could hear the more hesitant

footfalls of his team.

This was the fourth time the floor had turned itself

into an obstacle, and although it was also the fourth

time such transformation had been shown to be an

illusion, the humans behind him still found it difficult

to completely disregard the evidence of their eyes.

Spock could hardly blame them. He himself would have

been ashamed of the tension that gripped him each time

he stepped impassively into a swamp, or a fire, or the

canyon that had improbably separated Blue and Orange

sections - that is, if shame itself were not an emotion.

Stopping to let the others catch up, Spock studied the

Starbase map on his tricorder. He compared it to the

colour coded markings on the wall.

~Fascinating.~ Although he was certain he had led them

along the correct route - it would, after all, have been

hard for anyone to get lost along a route that included

only one turn, and that at a T-junction - the markings

indicated they were two decks and half a section out of

their way.

~And, apparently, heading in the wrong direction.~

Ingrit Tomlinson was kneeling beside an engineering

lieutenant who had collapsed on the floor, sobbing. She

got to her feet and walked over to Spock.

"Sir," she said, "Dendale - he says something's talking to

him. In his head."

Spock raised his eyebrow. " As it is apparent that

whatever we are facing has the ability to influence and

affect mental perceptions, that is hardly surprising. What

does Dendale say this voice is telling him?"

"He's not that coherent, sir." Tomlinson said.

"If necessary, have him carried." Spock said. "Report to

me if he says anything useful."

"Yes, sir."

A nearby storage cabinet slammed open and maintenance

equipment began to fly out, swooping along the corridor

towards the Enterprise crew. Ducking flat against the

floor and walls, Spock fired with phaser on maximum and

vaporised a cleaning unit seconds before it hit Ms

Tomlinson. A container of detergent struck him hard n the

side and he twisted away. Someone behind him nailed it

with a maximum beam.

"God damn it!" Tomlinson said. "That's the - what, must

be the tenth time?" Her normally unshakable professional

demeanour was slipping.

"The fourteenth, in fact, Ms Tomlinson." Spock said. He

raised his voice. "Is anybody injured?"

Two were. One, a Denbarian called Frengif, lived only a

few minutes, half his head shattered by a trash disposal

unit.

"Killed by a damn trash can." Tomlinson muttered bitterly.

"We must leave the body." Spock said. "We will have

enough difficulty carrying the wounded."

"Yes, sir." Tomlinson said evenly enough, although her

mouth twisted. "I agree."

Someone groaned, in miserable, wordless protest against

the circumstances.

Illogical as it was, Spock had the feeling that they were

being watched. The feeling that somewhere nearby,

something observed everything they did.

Something that had just sighed, as if in satisfaction.

~Or satiation,~ Spock thought, although he was not sure why

that came to mind.

"We must turn left at the next branching." he said.

"Aye, sir." his team murmured. They formed up, carrying

their wounded, leaving Frengif lying by the wall, arms

folded across his chest in whatever semblance of decency

they could manage. Within a few minutes, the whole team

had rounded the corner and were gone.

A few minutes later, Frengif got to his feet and followed

them.