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be?" Kirk asked warily.
    "How does a starship Captain feel, knowing that his every decision is going to be second-guessed by a machine?"
    Kirk hated being diplomatic to the point of misleading, but this was clearly a time when evasion was necessary. "Starfleet has the interests of the Federation in mind. If a starship captain engages in erratic behavior, the monitors will act as a safeguard. They'll take away the captain's command. It's my duty not to be … erratic."
    "Surely Starfleet is very careful in choosing its captains. Isn't it impossible for a man or woman who's passed all the tests to be a bad apple?"
    Again she was leading him into delicate matters. Kirk knew of fellow officers who had "gone bad." They were rare, and the unfortunate results had never extended beyond damage to Starfleet vessels—and crew deaths—but there was always the possibility …
    "It's never impossible for a human being to make a mistake. The monitors have been installed to catch me—us … if a mistake is made."
    "But what if it's a difference of opinion, a judgment call, and you're not allowed to follow your own judgment?"
    "That hasn't happened yet."
    "The system hasn't been tried, Captain."
    "True. But I dislike speculation. By the end of this mission, we should have enough experience to know whether modifications are necessary."
    "Do you expect them to be?" Kirk smiled. "No." I certainly hope not, he thought. "The monitors really consist of the experiences of six of our finest starship captains. It's much as if they were staring over my shoulder, offering friendly advice. I don't really expect to ever disagree with six of Starfleet's finest."
    "Yes, but I'm sure no captain enjoys having his commands questioned by even the most brilliant of his peers. Isn't a captain supposed to be autonomous, the ruler of all the surveys?"
    "A starship captain is part of a chain of command. He is never his own man." And how often had he strained that dictum past the breaking point? "Sometimes the romance of command is overblown, wouldn't you say? I'm always accountable for my actions. In fact, I'm accountable for the actions of the Enterprise and all aboard her. If the monitors can help me in my work, I welcome them. Perhaps you should speak to Lieutenant Veblen. He can describe the technical details, those that aren't classified."
    "That would be very useful. Is he available now?" If he isn't, Kirk thought, I'll make him available.
    He motioned her out of the computer bay and called the computer control center, where Veblen was likely to be engaged in his endless checking and re-checking of the monitors' peripherals. "I'll need Mr. Veblen on the bridge with me in forty-five minutes," he told Mason. "Please don't keep him any longer than that."
    "I won't," Mason said. She watched Kirk enter the elevator. She had learned nothing important—nothing she could substantiate, at any rate—and he had only given her thirteen minutes. But one thing was perfectly obvious to her, perhaps moreso than it was to Kirk himself. The captain of the Enterprise loathed the thought of being second-guessed.

    Everything was running smoothly on the bridge. Kirk took his chair and paused before beginning an entry in the ship's log. Was it possible—barely possible—that the Enterprise could run herself better without him? He put the doubt aside almost before he had a chance to notice it, and made a routine status entry on the compact chair arm keypad. Veblen came on the bridge a moment later. "Good day, Mr. Veblen," Kirk said. "I trust you had a pleasant interview with Mister Mason."
    "Yes, indeed," Veblen said, smiling. "She's a very pleasant person. May I listen in on the monitors' communications with the command console, Captain?"
    Kirk looked at him, vaguely irritated. "Yes. Of course." Veblen made the necessary patches through the science console and plugged in an earphone. His face assumed an air of blissful attentiveness as he listened to computer voices