Prologue

The Ambassador stood alone before the Federation Council. The Council knew, however, that the newly confirmed Ambassador to Zaran was never alone. He was One.

“I shall require the Enterprise to take my Oneness to Zaran,” the Ambassador said.

“There is no route,” the member from Andor said, “except through what the Humans call the Marie Celeste Sector-where every smaller ship has vanished.”

“Yes. Therefore, I require the best starship.”

A man rose in the chamber. He was the Chief of Staff of Starfleet. “It is your neck, Ambassador, but it is my starship.”

The Ambassador nodded fractionally. “I would judge it is your neck, also. Your opposition to my mission to Zaran is known.”

The Chief of Staff rose to his full height, which matched the Ambassador’s. “That’s right,” he said. “I grant your right to the diversity of your Oneness, but I defend with my neck the right of every other diversity to exist. Zaran imposes Oneness by force. You have said nothing against that. I do not send the cub to guard the bear.”

The Ambassador shrugged. “Do you send the amoeba to understand the man? Only a Oneness can hope to deal with a Oneness. But whether you or I like it or not, Oneness is coming to the galaxy. Whether by force or not, I do not know. The New Human movement now permeates your own planet. Collective consciousness is springing up everywhere. We are tomorrow.”

“Or yesterday,” the Chief of Staff said. “Perhaps a blind alley in evolution. There were many. No dinosaur ever knew that it was not a workable solution. You consider my people throwbacks, but it was those throwbacks who took us to the stars. And it is still old-fashioned love among solitary beings which keeps my ships going. I will give you the Enterprise, where you may learn something extraordinary about that. Then tell me whether love, or Oneness, will keep us in the stars.”

The Ambassador smiled ironically. “Have you considered my servant Job?” he quoted.

There was a ripple of puzzlement in the chamber. “Translator context inadequate,” the Andorian protested.

“It is not important,” the Ambassador said. “Merely an ancient Human text said to report on a similar occasion. God’s servant Job was the best; therefore, he was given to the Devil to test.” He bowed to the Commander in Chief. “I accept, on the usual terms and conditions.”

“What terms?” the Tellarite asked.

“That I may take his soul.”

The Chief of Staff’s eyes hardened. “Ambassador Gailbraith,” he said, “I would give my right arm to command that ship myself. Failing that, there is one man I would trust to keep his soul from the Devil himself.”

Gailbraith bowed fractionally. “Captain James T. Kirk. Unfortunately, the Devil will not be his adversary…”