Текст книги "Kobayashi Maru"

Автор книги: Andy Mangels

Соавторы: Michael Martin
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“That makes the odds a bit more even,Archer joked. “Two against two is amuch fairer fight.

“Whats your ETA, Captain? Hernandez said, eager to make the coming fight an even‑money proposition.

“Were nearly right on top of you already,Archer said. He turned his head slightly, speaking to someone off‑screen. “Fire to disable.

Hernandez tapped a button on her chairs arm‑mounted console, and the forward viewscreen switched to a view of the other ships. Enterprisewas thundering forward, having apparently just dropped out of warp, and its pulsed phase cannons threw a series of blasts toward the central Klingon aggressor that had been pouring the heaviest fire onto the surface of Draylax.

The beams arced over the enemy vessels hull, and it visibly shuddered, but did not move further. Instead, the Klingon launched a salvo of projectiles at the swift‑moving Enterprise.

“Bring us to bear against the third ship, Hernandez said. “Try hailing them one last time, but prepare to fire again at my signal.

Looking at the viewer, Hernandez saw that Archer was making a pass toward the other ship as well, essentially trapping the vessel between Enterpriseand Columbia. The Klingon cruiser arced to starboard, attempting to fleeHernandez thought she understood Klingon pride well enough to imagine the ships captain would no doubt claim the maneuver was really only a means of “regaining the defensive high groundbut Hernandez knew that Akagi was already matching the hostiles new course.

“Still no answer, Valerian said.

“Target their nacelles, Hernandez ordered.

Suddenly, the Klingon vessel slid off the viewscreen, as if vanishing.

“What happened?

“They braked!Fletcher shouted, staring goggle‑eyed from a computer station she was using. “They just cranked their reverse‑thrusters all the way up. We just overshot them!

“Shit!Hernandez ordered, “Polarize the aft plating! Get Archer back on the

A moment later, the ship shuddered violently, and Hernandez had to grab the arms of her chair to avoid being tossed to the deck. The rest of the bridge crew were similarly jostled, but they had all braced themselves solidly just prior to Akagis earlier evasive maneuvers.

“Status?

“Our starboard nacelle took a hit, Captain, el‑Rashad said, a hint of panic in his voice. “Were venting quite a bit of plasma.

The viewscreen image switched perspective to the aft end of the ships saucer section; from that vantage point, Hernandez could see very clearly the extensive damage the starboard nacelle had sustained, and the energetic plasma that was rapidly escaping from it. Beyond the nacelle, she saw the sapphire glow of Draylax, the Klingon cruiser, and something else.

Enterprisefiring.

A heartbeat later, the phase‑cannon blasts from Enterpriseignited the impulse drive module at the aft end of the Klingon ships secondary hull. Within seconds, the second cruiser turned inside out as the resulting explosions tore it to pieces, its decompression as spectacularly violent as the conflagrations that had taken apart the first vessel.

“Is your ship okay, Captain?Archer asked, his worried face reappearing on the forward viewer.

“Its nothing a little time and baling wire cant fix, Hernandez said through a wry but grateful smile. “But we still have one more ship to deal with first. Lets see if we can get themto surrender in one piece.

“Theyre Klingons,Archer said. “Im not sure their language even has a word for surrender.His gaze shifted to his right for a moment as someone spoke to him.

Fletcher spoke up then as well. “Captain, its notjust one ship.

“What?

“Three more Klingon battle cruisers have just dropped out of warp. Theyre flanking the surviving vessel.

“Damn,Archer said, his image frowning into his own central bridge viewer. “So much for trying to stack the odds in our favor. Are you seeing what were seeing, Captain?

“On‑screen tactical, Hernandez said. “ Enterpriseto audio‑only.

There were now indeed four Klingon vessels orbiting Draylax, and not a one of them showed so much as a dented fenders worth of damage.

“Hail the newcomers, Sidra, Hernandez said.

“Theyre priming their weapons, Thayer shouted, her voice ragged.

“All available power to hull plating! Hernandez barked. She wondered if the systems remaining power would be enough to resist even the first shots of the new arrivals, or if this was to be Columbias last stand.

A moment later, all four of the Klingon vessels fired, but only one seemed to be taking aim at either of the Starfleet ships.

The other three had directed their disruptor blasts at the fourth cruiser, the last of the original trio that had attacked Draylax.

Caught in a withering crossfire, the cruiser erupted instantly in a series of conflagrations that might have been brilliant enough to damage every optic nerve on Columbias bridge had the main viewers luminal filters not intervened to prevent it.

“What the Hernandez couldnt even finish her thought.

A moment later, the newly arrived trio of Klingon cruisers abruptly turned about and sped away, accelerating to warp almost instantly on a direct heading toward Klingon space.

Hernandez looked around at her bridge crew. “What the hell just happened here?

“I was hoping you could tell me,Archer said from the audio speakers.

Focusing on the screen, Hernandez watched as the last molecular fires from the destroyed Klingon ships expanding debris field silently burned themselves out several hundred kilometers over Draylax.

Something extremely strange had just happened here, and the only people who might supply the answer to the mysterythe Klingons aboard the three just‑departed battle cruiserswere gone, leaving nothing but destruction and questions in their wake.

SIXTEEN

Friday, July 18, 2155 Enterprise NX‑01, near the Draylax system

T HE AFTER‑BATTLE REPAIRS, which mostly centered on Columbias rather extensive but thankfully nonfatal damage, had made for a long day that had challenged the combined engineering teams of both Enterpriseand Columbia. And now, despite the lateness of the hour, Jonathan Archer found that he couldnt sleep. Lying on the bed in his night‑dimmed quarters, he felt a desperate need, almost a physical hunger, to talk to someone about his current problem with the Klingons.

At least someone other than Porthos, whom he noted was still watching him in the semidarkness, his large black eyes alert as he lay on the pillow in the corner he used for sleeping. Though he knew he was anthropomorphizing, Archer couldnt help but read the beagles vaguely quizzical expression as one of canine concern about the current pensive state of his human.

Still recumbent, Archer reached across the bed to the small com panel mounted on the wall nearest to the bed. He hesitated as his fingers made contact with the button.

Archer paused for a moment. While he certainly had the authority to interrupt his senior officers off‑duty activities when circumstances warranted, even in the dead of ships night, he didnt consider his personal feelings of isolation and loneliness to be sufficient cause. And despite the unprecedented emotional closeness he and his first officer had come to share over the past few months, he hadnt forgotten the ingrained tendency of Vulcans toward a certain standoffishness. He also knew how emotionally stressed TPol had been lately, perhaps as much by Trips feigned death as by the need to keep the truth behind it concealed from all but a small handful of her crewmates and friends. Considering all shed been through since shed first set foot aboard Enterprise,she deserved to be allowed to continue doing whatever she needed to do in order to keep body and katratogether.

He resigned himself to dealing on his own with the Klingon problem.

He sat up with a sigh, and Porthos regarded him with an expectant look and a wagging tail for a moment before launching himself into Archers lap. Scratching the dogs head behind the right ear, he said, “Porthos, how do you feel about trading jobs with me?

Porthos tipped his head and whined, and his swiftly wagging tail abruptly dropped out of warp.

Archer chuckled. “Sorry. Youre way too smart to fall for that. Get some sleep. Oneof us should.

He patted Porthos near the rump, and the dog jumped back down and returned to his sleeping corner while Archer finally gave up on the idea of slumber entirely. Sometime during the few minutes it took Archer to doff his bathrobe and don his standard blue duty uniform, the beagle had closed his eyes and drifted off into what looked like a bottomlessly deep slumber.

Archer looked on wistfully as the sleeping animals paws jerked three times, probably in response to the appearance of a sprawling dream‑pasture, a wish granted by some merciful canine Morpheus. Until he got to the bottom of this mess with the Klingons, he seriously doubted hed be able to follow Porthoss wise example.

Moving quietly, he crossed the small room to his desk and took a seat in front of the computer terminal there. He entered his personal com access code manually, along with a particular subspace frequency, and then drummed his fingers on the desk for several seconds while the screens ship status updates vanished.

Archer ceased his drumming when a blood‑red Klingon trefoil emblem appeared, standing out starkly against a background as black as space itself. A moment later, the alien sigil was replaced by the scowling visage of a middle‑aged male Klingon dressed in a warriors battle armor. For an absurd moment, Archer wondered whether everybody on QonoS dressed like that, right down to the receptionists in the lobby who answered the incoming com transmissions and whoever came in at night to mop the floors and empty out the wastepaper baskets.

“NuqneH, Terangan? the frowning warrior said as Enterprises linguistic translation matrix took a beat to calibrate before beginning its continuous real‑time translation stream. “What do you want, Terran?

Noting that the man on the other end of the comlink had a conspicuously smooth, humanlike forehead, Archer knew he would have to proceed with no small amount of caution. After all, any Klingon who bore a permanent reminder of that particular crisis was bound to have a chip on his shoulder when it came to dealing with humans.

But he also understood Klingons well enough to know that they preferred plain talk to beating around the bush.

“I am Captain Jonathan Archer of the Starship Enterprise. I must speak with Fleet Admiral Krell immediately regarding the Draylax situation.

“I am Captain Qapegh, Fleet Admiral Krells adjutant,the Klingon said with a pronounced sneer. “You have already been privileged to speak with the admiral very recently. Why should I permit you to do so again so soon after the previous occasion?

Although Archer never broke eye contact with the Klingon on the monitor, his hands moved busily across his desktop keyboard as he composed a covert text message just out of the line of sight.

Cant afford to let myself look like a timid beggar,Archer told himself as he fixed the other man with his hardest, most withering stare.

“I called before to seek an explanation for the Klingon Empires hostilities against Draylax, he said, discreetly hitting the “transmit key as he spoke. “Admiral Krell has yet to provide a satisfactory one.

Though Qapegh bared his sharpened teeth aggressively, he appeared impressed by Archers audacity nevertheless. “You risk much, human.

“Its all part of the service, Sparky.

The Klingon suddenly broke off from Archers stare, apparently not out of intimidation, but rather because something outside the Klingon com systems field of view had just demanded his attention.

“You havetarg‑ backed a text transmission onto the subspace channel you used to reach this office,Qapegh said, his face adorned in undisguised surprise as he looked back in Archers direction.

“Uh‑huh, Archer said, nodding.

“It is coded,Qapegh said in truculent tones.

“Thats right. For the admirals eyes only. And I expect hes going to be pretty damned unhappy with anybody who delays his seeing it. Needless to say, its fairly time‑sensitive stuff. Admiral Krell can contact me on the secure frequency specified in the message header to receive the encryption key.

Archer closed off the channel before the goggle‑eyed Klingon could finish drawing breath to make a reply that was doubtless now being delivered at a full‑throated shout before a blank screen. After all, the last thing he needed was to have some pissed‑off Klingon waking up his dog in the middle of the night.

That certainly felt good,Archer thought as he leaned back in his chair and waited patiently for the inevitable return call. He listened to the gentle susurration of Porthoss snoring in his otherwise dark and silent cabin.

He was a little surprised that it had taken six whole minutes for the incoming call indicator on his com‑panel to light up. Suppressing a grin, he transmitted the encryption code in response to the text message that scrolled up his screen, and then allowed nearly another whole minute to pass. The incoming light came on again, and he sat up straight and assayed his best parade‑ground military bearing just before toggling the “accept key.

“Thank you for contacting me so soon after our last conversation, Admiral, he said to the older, gray‑bearded Klingon whose glowering face and almost human‑smooth forehead now filled his viewer like a looming mountainside. “You do me honor.

“Do not play games with me, Archer,Krell said. “You know as well as I do that my decision to respond to your summons has little to do with honor, either yours or mine.

Archer suppressed a smile, as well as any further comment regarding matters of honor. Krell was obviously making a veiled reference to Archers encrypted text message, which had intimated that Krell might want to cooperate, lest the admirals covert cooperation with a human espionage bureau during the QuVat affair the previous year become generally known throughout the Klingon Empire.

“Your honor remains safe with me, Admiral Krell, Archer said carefully. “As well as other matters that are best never spoken about again.

“I can see that aRomuluSngan might envy your skill in the dark art of blackmail, Archer,Krell said with a grunt. “You spoke to my aide of the Draylax incident. Why can you not leave the matter alone?

“Because Im still having trouble making sense of it, Admiral, Archer said. “Perhaps if you were to help me shed a little more light on what reallyhappened here at Draylaxand whyI might be able to see my way clear to talking about it a whole lot less from now on.

Krells eyes narrowed as he stroked his grizzled chin in apparent contemplation. With another grunt, he said, “Your threats aside, youhave proved trustworthy with confidences thus far, Captain. Perhaps I can afford to trust you somewhat further. Particularly if doing so makes you less of a pain in theoyoS. And makes you go away as well.

Archer smiled, though he was even less sure about the meaning of oyoSthan the translator evidently was. “Nothing would make me happier, Admiral. You, too, I expect.

“Very well, Captain,Krell said, nodding. “But I shall add only this to what I have told you already: The three battle cruisers that attacked Draylax were commanded by rogue captains. Men who were operatingwithout the legitimate authorization of either the High Council or the Klingon Defense Force. They were killed during the commission of their treachery. Their Houses, as well as the Houses of the craven subordinates who followed their un‑lawful orders, have since been dispossessed and discommended for their lack of honor and discipline.

Archer had no pretensions to serious expertise about Klingon culture. Nevertheless, he felt more than justified in assuming that virtually everyone in the Empire who might know anything about the Draylax affair was no longer available for questioning. At least,he thought, not without an extremely sensitive Ouija board. One thats tuned in toSto‑Vo‑Top, or whatever the hell the Klingons call their version of the hereafter.

“Forgive me for making this observation, Admiral, Archer said aloud. “But that sounds awfully convenient.

Krell leaned forward and displayed a pair of curved and wickedly sharpened incisors. “That is as may be, Captain Archer. But it is also my final word on the subject. Admiral Krell out.

And with that, Krells image vanished, replaced for an instant by the Klingon trefoil emblem, which yielded to the ships status screen a heartbeat or so later as the subspace channel closed.

He sat alone in the darkness, staring into the empty blue glow of the screen. “Naghs,he muttered, thinking that mastering the Klingon spoken language might not be as difficult as hed once thought.

Still lying in the corner, Porthos came out of his apparent slumber, raised his head slightly, and released a low growl that might have done a Klingon captain proud. Archer chose to take it as a noise of solidarity rather than a reprimand for his rude use of Klingon vocabulary.

“I agree completely, Porthos. I cant buy what Krells trying to sell, either.

He knew that the Klingon Defense Force ran on discipline just as much as Starfleet and the MACOs did. Perhaps even more so.

Three trained Klingon captains wouldnt just suddenly go rogue for no apparent reason,he thought. Krell still knows a hell of a lot more about this than he wants anyone else to find out. And hes prepared to sweep it all under the rug to make sure that nobody does.

Once again, Archer felt an all but overwhelming need to talk to someone he could trust. Somebody with fewer than four legs.

He toggled open the intercom switch on his desk. “Archer to TPol.

No answer. His second try wasnt any more successful. Despite the lateness of the hour, and his knowledge of TPols habit of retreating behind a veil of Vulcan meditation, a small worm of suspicion began to turn in his guts. He rose and crossed to the hatchway, letting himself out into E decks main corridor, and onto the tubolift to B deck, determined to prove that suspicion unfounded.

After a brisk trot nearly a quarter of the way along the hallways gentle curvature, he came to a stop before the door to TPols quarters and buzzed the keypad to announce his presence.

Still no answer. The suspicion in his belly was quickly congealing into an awful certainty as he entered his override code into the controls. The hatch hissed obediently open, and he slowly stepped into the darkened chamber beyond.

It only took a few moments to determine that TPol wasnt in her quarters. The pattern of TPols recent behaviorparticularly her recent insistence that Trip was in urgent need of rescue, and her even more recent withdrawal behind the impenetrable veil of “Vulcan meditationsuddenly began to make sense.

He sincerely hoped the conclusion to which he had just jumped was wrong. Crossing to a desk illuminated only by the wan light of a neutral monitor screen and the distant stars beyond the viewport, Archer toggled open another com channel.

“Archer to Launch Bay One.

“Launch Bay One,came a young crewmans crisp, almost instantaneous reply. If he sounded surprised to be hearing directly from Archer, particularly at such a late hour, it didnt show. “Ensign Nguyen here, sir. What can I do for you?

“I need a status report on Shuttlepod One and Shuttlepod Two, Ensign.

“Shuttlepod One is fueled and ready to go,Nguyen said.

“And Shuttlepod Two?

“I can give you a detailed status report on her just as soon as she returns toEnterprise.

Goddammit!Archer thought, kicking himself, hard. Why didnt I see this coming?

Struggling to keep any trace of anger out of his voice, he said, “When did Commander TPol depart, Ensign?

“Let me check the log, sir.A pause. “Yesterday evening at eleven‑hundred hours, nine minutes.

“Thank you, Ensign. Archer out.

TPol had no doubt wanted him to believe that shed been in meditation continuously since around that time, Archer reflected. Now he understood clearly the realreason she hadnt been on the bridge when Enterprisehad received Columbias report about the Klingon attack on Draylax. So much for that renowned Vulcan inability to lie, he thought. That little whopper has got to be the most useful lie the Vulcans ever got us to swallow.

And as a partial consequence of that lie, TPol was now off on a foolish quest in hostile territory.

All alone.

He keyed the com again. “Archer to Reed. He paused to await a response, but none came. Though he hated to bother a man afflicted with the sort of nasty gastrointestinal trouble that had sidelined Malcolmespecially at such a late hourhe pressed on. “Malcolm, I need to talk to you. Even if we have to chat through the bathroom door.

Still nothing.

Oh, no, he thought, shaking his head as he struggled to tamp down a rising tide of anger. Well, at least she hasnt charged off to oblivion alone.

It occurred to him that at least one of them would have left him a note before doing something so damned stupid. Taking a seat before TPols monitor, he started searching the com logs.

The desktop terminal brightened a few moments later, then suddenly displayed the serious‑miened faces of Enterprises exec and weapons officer. They were standing awkwardly side‑by‑side in a cramped, dimly illuminated cabin that Archer immediately recognized as the interior of his missing shuttlepod. Both were out of uniform, clad instead in dark, nondescript clothing devoid of any visible insignia linking them to Starfleet, Earth, or the Coalition.

“Captain Archer, by the time you view this recording, Lieutenant Reed and I will probably be deep inside Romulan territory,TPol began without preamble. “Please accept my apologies for the ratherunorthodox actions we have taken. However, our mission is one of the utmost importance. And not merely for the safety of the man we both know as Lazarus.

Lazarus, Archer repeated silently, recalling the code name Trip had used when he had delivered his last‑minute warning about the attack on Coridan.

“I must also protect the vital work that Lazarus is performing inside the Romulan sphere of influence,TPol continued. “Should we fail, the repercussions will be incalculably larger than the life of any one person.

“Or evenour lives, I suppose,Malcolm said.

Something written millennia ago by the Vulcan philosopher Surak, a long‑dead man whose living spirit had nonetheless once briefly shared the space inside his skull, sprang unbidden into Archers head, soothing his roiling emotions: The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.

Reed added, “I know I once promised you that I was finished with this kind of subterfuge, Captain, and that my first loyalty was to you and toEnterprise I understand the consequences of my actions. But I wouldnt be doing this if I thought we had a better alternative.

As he listened, Archer felt a renewed surge of anger begin to sweep away the calming memory of once having been in close proximity to Suraks peaceful, orderly mind. How could the two of them leaveEnterprise at a time like this?he thought. Regardless of TPols vehement certainty that Trip was in mortal danger, her actions were a far cry from what hed come to expect from his logical first officer. Reed, yes. Trip, certainly. But not TPol.

“If it is at all possible,TPols image said, “we will return toEnterprise at our earliest opportunity, to take responsibility for our unauthorized actions. And to face whatever disciplinary consequences await us.

She raised her right hand in a familiar split‑fingered gesture. “Live long, and prosper.

The message abruptly ended.

Slumping backward into TPols chair, Archer sighed into the semidarkness that surrounded him. Whatever qualms he had about what his subordinates had just done, he knew there could be no changing any of it now. The die was cast. Railing against what was done would do absolutely no good.

“Godspeed, he whispered to the blank screen.

Even before hed heard the recording, the main reason behind TPol and Malcolms clandestine stunt had been glaringly obvious to him.

Trip.

And because this entire business revolved around a man believed dead by all but a handful of people, there was only one person currently aboard Enterprisewith whom Archer could speak freely about what TPol and Malcolm were trying to do.

His frustration welled up again, and he slammed his fist down on another com button, striking the console nearly hard enough to shatter it. He found the pain that shot through his hand strangely calming.

“Archer to Phlox, he said, addressing the one crew member who would be awake regardless of the lateness of the hour. “Doctor, I have a hugeproblem on my hands.

SEVENTEEN

Friday, July 18, 2155 83 Leonis V

T RIP FOUND HIMSELFadrift in a borderless white nothingness that seemed to stretch out into infinity.

He tried to calm the terror that clawed his guts. I must be dreaming,he thought, though the vivid clarity of his senses argued otherwise. As did the fact that he had been to this very same nonplace before.

A familiar voice behind him spoke urgently. “Trip.

Though he didnt understand how his feet were able to find purchase in this insubstantial netherworld, he nevertheless planted them solidly and turned toward the sound.

TPol stood before him, attired in a Starfleet uniform. “Are you safe at the moment?

He chuckled and waggled his hand back and forth. “Safe enough to fall asleep about a swords length away from a Romulan soldier who thinks Im a Vulcan spy. Or maybe Im just tired enough to hallucinate.

“Youre not asleep, Trip. And youre not hallucinating or dreaming.

He shrugged. “Then I guess Im as safe as safe gets here in the belly of the beast. Unless my watchdog decides to turn on me, that is.

The only thing he felt fairly certain about was that Admiral Valdore wasnt deliberately feeding him disinformation. At least not since hed received independent confirmation from Captain Stillwell that an Earth Cargo Service freighter had indeed gone missing from its pre‑filed course, a fact that was consistent with the Klingon attack that a Romulan outpost had reported having witnessed in the Gamma Hydra sector.

TPol nodded, a look of concern threatening to overwhelm her usual Vulcan stoicism. “Help is coming, Trip. In the meantime, please be careful.

He smiled at the dream‑image of the woman with whom hed once thought he might build a future. But he knew enough about nostalgia and wish‑fulfillment fantasies to resist believing that she was really communicating with him telepathically and in real time across all the boundless light‑years that separated them.

And he knew enough about life not to expect any hairbreadth rescues or other miracles to intervene on his behalf.

“I promise to wear my mittens until the cavalry comes, he said, not quite suppressing an ironic smile.

She raised an eyebrow in a classic expression of Vulcan perplexity. “Stay safe, Trip, she said after a seemingly uncertain pause. “And remain vigilant.

I know,Trip thought wistfully. I guess I still love you, too.

The real world returned to Trip in a disorienting rush of sensation. “Cunaehr! a stern male was shouting into his ear, startling him back into wakefulness. The fathomless white expanse around him vanished like fog, taking TPol with it. The face of Centurion Terix, whose aquiline features were creased with both concern and frustration, now nearly filled his vision.

“I had feared you dead for a moment, Terix said, releasing his grip on Trips bulky Romulan travel robes and backing away to his own nearby barstool.

Trip allowed his gaze to drift momentarily around the crowded, noisy, and dimly illuminated gambling establishment that surrounded them both as he regained his psychological bearings. The barstool that had somehow kept him from tipping over backward during his apparently brief episodehe no longer felt entirely certain that it had been a mere dream or hallucinationreminded him that the seat hadnt been designed with the Terran backside in mind. That single tangible reality jolted him the rest of the way back into the real world.

“Im fine, Terix, Trip said. “Just a little tired, thats all. It was a long flight out here.

“Sleep duringthe flight next time, Cunaehr, the centurion said in a low growl. “I didnt bring you all the way to the Empires southern galactic limits for you to doze off while so much work still lies ahead of us.

Right,Trip thought as he discreetly eyed the telltale bulge beneath Terixs otherwise unassuming dark travel robes. I should just take a catnap right next to a man whos convinced that Im a Vulcan spy.He knew that the centurions deliberately nonmartial garment was intended to conceal both a disruptor pistol and a razor‑sharp military Honor Blade, though he didnt think it was accomplishing that objective particularly well with regard to either weaponand that was to say nothing about Terixs aggressive stance.

He wondered which Terix would grab first, the gun or the blade, once he decided that he finally had an adequate excuse to follow his instincts.

“Id be happy to get started, Terix, Trip said. “Im just hoping not to die of sheer boredom while were sitting around waiting for our contact to turn up.

Terixs eyes narrowed dangerously. “Be patient, Cunaehr. And remain alert.

Trip nodded as he reached toward the bar on which hed set his now half‑empty mug. His first impression of the surprisingly potent blue ale had been that it probably ought to be illegal. The sip he took now only confirmed that initial opinion.

Several more minutes passed, during which Trip ever so slowly drained his glass. “What makes you so sure were even waiting in the right place, Terix? he said as he contemplated whether or not ordering a refill would make him more or less likely to experience another vivid hallucination.

“This place is more a frontier outpost than an established colony, Cunaehr. Therefore relatively few places like this exist on all of Cheron, since the Rihannsu population here numbers only a few thousand at most.

Cheron,Trip thought, reminding himself yet again that it would be a bad idea to slip up and call the place by its Earth astronomical designation, 83 Leonis V.