Corona by Greg Bear

weak point, and my work proceeds no matter what anyone else's attitude to me is."
    "It wasn't my intention—I mean, I've never thought of you as a weak point."
    "Good. Then maybe my next shot will be more on target. I'm in charge of maintaining and testing the monitors. Incidentally, I work with Mr. Spock on all the ship's computers, because the monitors interface with virtually every system on the Enterprise. And I work with the captain because the monitors are very complex, and no command officer should be expected to be completely familiar with such a new and difficult system."
    "Yes," Mason said, watching Veblen closely.
    "If you think there's a story in the captain's problems adjusting to the monitors, that's fine. We may be uncomfortable with that kind of coverage, but that's the way things are; it's a legitimate story. But if you think you're going to find material proving that Captain Kirk is trying to frustrate the monitors, to somehow get around them, I'm here to tell you that's a dead end. I've had the captain question me, even harangue me, about some point or other, but not once has he suggested I was at fault, or that I am not a part of the Enterprise. Any alienation you see is largely due to me, not to the captain or the crew."
    "I have to follow my instincts, Mr. Veblen."
    "We're in a very tough situation here. Even tougher than you know." Veblen looked down at the table. "I'm sorry if I've been angry with you. What I say next has to be doubly confidential …"
    To Mason, it was obvious that despite everything he had just said, Veblen needed to let his hair down with someone. "We've been off the record. I keep my word."
    "The monitors—aren't perfect. They're only as good as the people who programmed them, and the laws they follow are not perfect. Dr. McCoy is up against a brick wall. I'm not going to say why, just yet, but I want you to understand. I want somebody to understand. They're going to have to do something, and if worse comes to worse, they're going to have to find a way around the monitors. And I am going to have to oppose them. I don't want to, but I will."
    Mason regarded him with new understanding and respect. Veblen was deeply troubled; Why, she thought, he's probably as enamored of Captain Kirk as the rest of the crew!
    "So maybe that's where your story should be. If the Federation wants to keep track of every little thing a starship does, perhaps we should find ways to monitor those who make the laws and expect us to carry them out. It should work both ways."
    "What's the doctor going to do?"
    "I don't know. I don't want to know. What I don't know won't hurt me, right?"
    She nodded "So we're both outcasts here," she said. "By occupation, if nothing else."
    "I hope you'll excuse me," Veblen said, flushing now. "But I believe you're having some problems, too."
    "Oh?"
    "Yes. I believe you're having difficulty facing up to Mr. Spock, perhaps even to Mr. Yimasa."
    "What gives you that impression?" It was Mason's turn to redden.
    "When I joined Starfleet, I came from an allhuman enclave on Titan."
    "Where's that?"
    "Saturn's largest moon. My folks were among the terraformers. They were great people, but they fed me a lot of nonsense about Vulcans and Andorrans and all the others—not those who don't have human shape; we hadn't even met any—but humanoids. I had a lot of garbage in my head to overcome. From the way you avoid Mr. Spock, and—" He paused. "Well, I've read parts of the file FNS sent up from Yalbo."
    "My file?"
    He nodded. "I think you have some of the same garbage to throw out. If it proves to be a problem, perhaps I can help."
    "Thank you for the offer," Mason said, standing. "And I hope I've helped by being a sounding board."
    Veblen shrugged.
    "But from here on in, I think I'll want our interviews on the record. I have to get down to the station. I can't file reports when I haven't even been on the scene." She nodded curtly at him and left Area 39.

    Chekov briefed his