Текст книги "Kobayashi Maru"

Автор книги: Andy Mangels

Соавторы: Michael Martin
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Текущая страница: 2 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

Hernandezs smile abruptly turned mischievous. “Would you like me to tell Gardner about this, or do you want to break the news to him yourself?

Archer felt his own smile begin to sputter out, like an old‑style propeller‑driven aircraft running out of fuel.

“And theres yet another unpleasant reality to consider here, Jon,she continued, sounding grave.

“Whats that? Archer asked.

“You have to get busy preparing another big speech.

Though Hernandezs grin returned, what little remained of Archers own smile immediately stalled, crashed, and burned.

TWO

Monday, May 26, 2155 San Francisco, Earth

“T HE PRIME MINISTERS MOTIONamounts to nothing less than a blatant attempt by the human species to dominate this alliance! Gora bim Gral of Tellar shouted from behind the negotiating table. He punctuated his words by pounding his hirsute fist against the curved wooden table before him, then paused briefly to point an accusing finger toward the rostrum at the front of the room. “My people, for one, will not stand for it!

From his position at the central lectern that faced the semicircular array of conference tables that filled most of the main council chamber, Prime Minister Nathan Samuels thought that the murmur of reaction passing through the assembled Coalition of Planets delegates sounded uncomfortably like general agreement. Other than his nearby negotiating partner, Interior Minister Haroun al‑Rashid, Samuels suspected that no living human besides himself understood as clearly as he did how truly rare it was for the Tellarites, the Andorians, and the Vulcans to achieve such a complete consensus regarding anyissue.

“Our advocacy for Alpha Centauris admission as the fifth member of the Coalition of Planets is hardly a bid for galactic domination, Samuels said with a mild smile, meeting the hostile glare of Grals dark, beady eyes without flinching. “Frankly, Earths Coalition delegation finds it surprising that the government of Tellar has chosen to make such an issue of it. Unless, of course, Tellar would prefer to make its own deals for access to Alpha Centauris abundant ship‑building resources rather than allow them to benefit the entire Coalition.

But Gral clearly wasnt buying that line of argument today. Brushing off Samuelss question, he said, “Do you deny that the world you call Centauri III would be empty of sapient life but for the presence of a handful of cities built and inhabited by Earth humans and their descendants?

“Of course not, Ambassador Gral, Samuels said. “The history of Earths first extrasolar settlement is common knowledge.

Gral fairly snarled his response, pounding the table again for good measure. “Just as it is common knowledge that the admission of Centauri III to this body will give humans twovotes, rather than the one each to which Tellar, Andoria, and Vulcan are entitled, in both the general Coalition Council and Security Council. Why should the other members of the Coalition stand idly by while the human species effectively doubles its influence over every future decision taken by this alliance?

Haroun al‑Rashid, the interior minister of the United Earth government, folded his hands atop the table nearest to Samuelss lectern. Still seated like the other Coalition delegates, he began speaking, his smooth voice carrying an equanimity that Samuels couldnt help but envy.

“And why should any of the other members of this body assume that the human species is a monolithic entity that always achieves unanimity on every issue? al‑Rashid said. “I think we humans would be making a grievous error were we to harbor the same presumption about yourspecies, Ambassador Gral.

The Tellarites only vocalized response was a guttural, harrumphing growl, which may or may not have been a Tellarite curse that the rooms universal translator system had mercifully failed to recognize. Ouch,Samuels thought, suppressing a triumphant grin.

“The interior minister makes an important point, Ambassador Gral, he said aloud. “Moving in lockstep is not something that comes naturally, even to us humans. Im sure I neednt remind anyone here that it has been only five years since the last of our worlds great independent nation‑states finally agreed to join the global government of the United Earth.

As he watched the grave nods that passed among the Vulcans and Andorians, the latter group displaying a potent mix of emotions via their writhing antennae, Samuels thought, I cant believe Im trying to mollify these people by pointing out how bad humanitys r й sum й looks when it comes to playing well with others.

Ambassador Jie Cong Li of Centauri III rose from her seat, the slightness of her form doing nothing to negate the quiet dignity of her bearing. The rooms assemblage of scowling Andorians, grumbling Tellarites, and stonily impassive Vulcans made no move to interrupt as the prime minister nodded to yield the floor to the Centauri representative.

“I do not wish to risk appearing overly agreeable with the ministers of the United Earth government, the Centauri woman said, filling the room with the round, resonant vowels that characterized her peoples dominant accent. “But I must point out that New Samarkand, Alpha Centauris capital, is a good deal more remote from the center of Terran power than was Australia, the last of this planets nonaligned nation‑states to allow itself to be enfolded into the UE government. I therefore implore all of our friends and allies from here to 61 Sygni and Procyon and 40 Eridani A to mark this occasion well. It may be the last time in the careers of everyone assembled here that the Earth and Centauri governments agree on anything. Her grim smile provided the only clue that her words werent entirely serious.

Great,Samuels thought, his guts churning as the Centauri delegate quietly reseated herself. If Li and I keep this up much longer, these people are going to start wondering why the hell they signed the Coalition Compact in the first place.

The moment of discomfiture passed, however, dispelled by a wave of politely indulgent laughter, apparently started either by Ambassador Avaranthi shRothress or the newly promoted Andorian Foreign Minister Anlenthoris chVhendreni. The encouraging sound rippled quietly across the rest of the usually taciturn Andorian delegation. Vulcans contingentthe recently promoted Minister Soval, flanked by Ambassadors LNel and Solkarreacted as one with gently surprised expressions that probably would have been polite laughter had the Vulcans belonged to just about any other humanoid race with which Samuels was familiar.

In the VIP observation area located behind the semicircular array of diplomatic tables, Admirals Samuel Gardner and Gregory Black, along with Captain Eric Stillwell, the man in charge of Earths new warp‑seven stardrive development program, and General George Casey, the iron‑haired commandant of Earths Military Assault Command Operations, all looked like still‑life studies with their medal‑bedecked coats, folded arms, and grave attentiveness. From the press area positioned behind the Starfleet and MACO officers, several members of the mediaincluding, Samuels noticed, that entirely too persistent female reporter Gannet Brooksused the holocams that rested on their shoulders or in their heads to soak up every word and gesture. Grethe Zhor, the observer from Draylax, sat behind the press corps, taking in the entire tableau with an unreadable expression.

Samuels clung to the hope that Zhor would prove to be the key to working through the Coalitions current difficulties, the keen blade that would slice through the tangled dual Gordian knot of galactic one‑upmanship and cutthroat domestic politics.

A flash of motion in the observation gallery momentarily caught Samuelss eye. When he recognized the small group of people moving quietly toward the balcony railing, he felt simultaneously relieved and disappointed that the newcomers werent yet another group of xenophobic former Terra Primers out to assassinate him in the name of God, Earth, and the late John Frederick Paxtons obsession with human racial purity. Instead, Samuels found his eyes drawn to the one person he knew besides Grethe Zhor who might help bring the current unsettled situation to a satisfactory resolution: Captain Jonathan Archer, a man whom hed once heard Minister al‑Rashid describe as “a crisis that walks like a man, perhaps because wherever he went both peril and opportunity seemed inevitably to follow. Samuels could only wonder which of those two aspects Archers presence here today augured.

“The Centauri representative is as clever a talker as the Terran prime minister, Gral continued, apparently as unmoved by the words of Ambassador Li and Earths ministers as by the Andorians uncharacteristic good humor. “And I do not doubt the truth behind anyones claims of human contentiousness, which no doubt fuels the obstinacy of both Earth and Alpha Centauri on the issue of the admission of Centauri III. With that, the senior Tellarite diplomat sat, leaning back from the table with his arms folded truculently before him.

Anlenthoris chVhendreni of Andoria, known to most of the other diplomats present simply as Thoris, rose and began to speak before either of Earths ministers had time either to formally give him the floor or to interject any response of their own.

“Indeed, Thoris said, his antennae flattening aggressively backward along his well‑groomed, white‑maned skull. “Could this stubbornness be born of the fear that whatever remains of the outlawed Terra Prime movement might pressure the United Earth government to withdraw from the Coalition absent some guarantee of a human parliamentary advantage over the other members of this alliance? Centauri IIIs admission would appear to represent just such a guarantee.

“Thats both ridiculous and unfair! al‑Rashid said, startling Samuels, who wasnt used to seeing his colleague react with such vehemence. Samuels saw his usually phlegmatic colleagues overstressed outburst as an ominous sign. It was also a tacit admission that the Tellarites assertion was anything butridiculous. After all, no one who monitored Earths popular media, its independent editorial journals, or its talknets could plausibly deny that humanitys small minority of committed xenophobes still maintained a formidable presence in the planets collective hindbrain, if only on a rhetorical, propagandistic basis.

Nevertheless, this was a point on which anyone representing Earths interests could ill afford to give ground. Playing up Homo sapienss lack of unanimity for the purpose of defusing the other Coalition members fears of human hegemony was one thing; making Earths population appear ungovernable, or portraying its leaders as dysfunctional without the advantage of a potentially unfair plurality, were other things entirely.

At the Vulcans table, Minister Soval rose, his hands clasped before his conservatively adorned Vulcan diplomatic robes as he addressed Samuelss lectern. “Ridiculous or not, it is abundantly apparent that we will not resolve this matter soon or simply.

“At least thatmuch is certain, Gral muttered, evidently just within the universal translator systems hearing threshold.

Depressing as the realization was, Samuels had to admit that he was inclined to agree.

“No wonder nobodys been listening to my warnings about the Romulans, Archer said quietly to Doctor Phlox, who sat to his left, his uncannily blue Denobulan eyes riveted to the diplomatic tableau unfolding beyond the railings that separated the balcony from the council chamber below. “These guys have their hands full just keeping the alliance from unraveling.

“I pledge never again to complain about the difficulties inherent in practicing medicine, Phlox said with a somber nod.

“Indeed, said TPol, who was seated at Archers other side.

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed leaned forward against the railing between TPol and the seats that Ensigns Hoshi Sato and Travis Mayweather had taken. “Makes myjob look dead easy, Reed whispered, to silent nods of agreement from Hoshi and Travis.

Archer watched as Soval addressed Minister Samuels, who stood at the central lectern. “I recommend we table the issue of Alpha Centauris admission pending a special meeting of this body dedicated to that purpose. We must move on to other essential business, most notably our collective security.

“Agreed, Minister Soval, Samuels said, nodding. He then turned toward the observation gallery and did his best to make his voice project to the back of the room. “I call Captain Jonathan Archer of Starfleet to address the Coalition Council on these matters.

Phlox offered an encouraging smile as Archer rose from his seat. “Good luck, sir, Hoshi said as he passed her chair and began making his way toward the nearby staircase that wound down toward the center of the council chamber.

As he stepped onto the central dais to stand beside Minister Samuels, Archer did his best to ignore the sheer terror that always gripped him whenever he was called upon to address the crowned heads and eminences of the Coalition of Planets. Is it too late to order Malcolm to shoot me?he thought. He could take some comfort, at least, in the fact that his slightly late arrival seemed to have come just in time to preempt a filibuster that might have lasted for days.

Samuels shook his hand warmly, gestured toward the lectern, and took a seat, yielding the floor to Archer. The delegates of four worlds, all of them once again seated behind a semicircular array of curved tables, watched him quietly, jangling his nerves further. Archer looked up and past them toward the gallery, where his senior officers sat watching him expectantly. Not far from them, Admiral Black, Admiral Gardner, and General Casey uniformly glowered at him over folded arms, like a trio of gargoyles. The light babble of applause that usually accompanied a guests ascension to the lectern was conspicuously absent, creating a lacuna of uncomfortable silence that Archers imagination filled with the stridulations of crickets and the low, warp core‑like thrumming of his own anxious heartbeat.

Wishing he hadnt neglected to bring along the padd upon which he had organized his thoughts during the voyage to Earth, Archer cleared his throat and searched his mind for a way to get at what he had intended to say.

Before Archer had uttered a single word, Gral suddenly rose to his feet and shouted, “I object! Absurdly, Archer felt only gratitude for the interruption.

“I presume that surprises no one, Soval said, one eyebrow raised in what might have signaled droll Vulcan humor.

“Captain Archer has addressed this body more times than has any other military officer from any Coalition world, Gral continued, ignoring Sovals verbal jab. “This is yet another sign of creeping human hegemony.

“Again, I must agree with my Tellarite colleague, Thoris said, though he remained seated. “While I certainly respect the captains accomplishments on behalf of my world and other Coalition members, it is not appropriate for humans to so thoroughly dominate these proceedings.

Archer fumed quietly. So its all right to have me aroundonly when you need somebody to keep Andoria, Vulcan, and Tellar from blowing each others fleets out of the sky.

“Gral is correct, Thoris said. “Under the Coalitions parliamentary rules, a member world cannot unilaterally call one of its own people to address the Council if that person is not a duly recognized planetary delegate.

“That is true, Minister Thoris, Soval said. “However, the United Earth government did not call Captain Archer here to speak. In fact, I have little doubt that the captains military superiors would prefer that he be elsewhere today.

Archer stole another glance at the admirals and the general, all of whose scowls seemed to deepen and intensify, confirming Sovals contention, if only inadvertently. Boy, Soval, you dont know the half of it,he thought, then allowed his gaze to drift back to the Vulcan minister to make certain that Admiral Gardners basilisk stare hadnt just turned him to solid stone.

“If Earths delegation did not call Captain Archer here, then who did? said Thoris, his antennae thrusting forward in an apparent mix of curiosity and querulousness.

“First Minister TPau of Vulcan, Soval announced in his customary matter‑of‑fact tones.

Thoris and Gral harrumphed in unison, almost as though they had rehearsed the joint maneuver in advance.

“Proceed, the Tellarite growled with a defeated sigh before dropping ungracefully back into his chair.

Once more unto the breach,Archer thought. He cleared his throat again, screwed up his courage one last time, and plunged forward.

“The Romulans, he announced as his preface. “Maybe weve all been a bit too busy lately arguing among ourselves to focus on the threat they pose to every world in the Coalition and beyond. The attack on Coridan was only the first catastrophe to emerge while weve been preoccupied with politics.

“How can you be so certain that the Romulans are to blame for Coridan, Captain? Gral asked, interrupting.

Archer paused and thought of Trip, who had been behind enemy lines for the past several months, covertly risking his life. I wish I could tell you the plain unvarnished truth, Gral.

“Indeed, said Soval. “The Klingons are equally likely to be the responsible parties.

“Or a rogue asteroid strike, for that matter, Thoris said.

Archer shook his head. “With respect, Minister Thoris, asteroids dont travel at multiwarp speeds. And Ive never seen a natural impact produce an antiparticle flux capable of igniting half a worlds underground dilithium supply.

“But you cannot deny the occurrence of a number of recent border skirmishes between Coalition vessels and warships from the Klingon Empire, Thoris said.

Archer nodded. “Of course not, Minister. But the occasional up‑front fight with the Klingons over territorial jurisdiction isnt what Im talking about here. Sneak attacks on dilithium freighters are something else entirely.

Soval raised an eyebrow. “The Klingon Empire is a starfaring civilization, like each of the Coalition worlds. They require dilithium just as we do.

“Blatant piracy just doesnt fit the Klingon Empires profile, Minister Soval, Archer said. Addressing the entire room, he continued. “Youre all aware of the recent attacks on Coalition cargo vessels. Weve found the energy signatures of disruptor fire wherever weve recovered debris after one of these incidents. This is certainly consistent with Romulan technology.

“The Klingons have disruptors as well, Captain, Soval said.

“True enough, Archer said, spreading his hands before him. “But would the Klingons ambush our ships while were still trying to negotiate the boundaries of the Neutral Zone between Coalition space and their own empire? He held up a hand to forestall any interruption. “And again, everything Ive learned firsthand about the Klingons tells me that sneaking up on unarmed freighters just isnt their style.

“I must agree with thatpart of your assessment, Captain, Soval said, stonily calm. “However, ambushes using disruptor weapons are also characteristic of the Orions, as well as a number of other races that you have, so far, been fortunate enough not yet to have encountered. The Breen, for example.

After all weve been through together over the past four years, he still sees us as poor relations,Archer thought, biting back a sharp verbal retort. Even now, he just cant resist rubbing my face in how much more Vulcans know about the rest of the galaxy than we do.

Then, doing his best to emulate Sovals damnable coolness despite the concerted glowers of his superiors, Archer began methodically outlining the facts concerning the so‑called pirate raids of the last several weeks, taking care to reveal nothing that might compromise the secret of Trip Tucker and his present critically important covert activities behind enemy lines, or the secret kinship of the Romulan and Vulcan peoples.

But the impassive demeanor of the assembled delegates immediately told him that only definitive firsthand evidenceinformation that would almost certainly compromise Trips ability to contribute to the continued survival of the Coalition, and maybe even that of Earth itselfwould suffice to persuade the assembled wise heads of four worlds to set aside their many differences.

And to act on something other than the ever‑shifting internal politics of their fractious, fragile new alliance.

Archer wondered, not for the first time, whether he had embarked on a fools errand by coming here.

Archers main recollection an hour after hed presented his case before the Coalition Council was that his audience had listened attentively for the most part, but had nevertheless seemed either unwilling or unable to deal head‑on with the coming Romulan threat. Sitting in the copilots seat of Shuttlepod One beside Travis Mayweather, Archer silently dissected his own performance before the Coalitions massed powers‑that‑be as he watched the fog‑shrouded San Francisco skyline drop over the horizon. He felt almost robotic as he went through the motions of assisting his helmsman in taking the small auxiliary craft back up into the parking orbit where Enterpriseawaited.

Travis checked in with Lieutenant Donna “D.O. ONeill, Enterprises third watch commander, who confirmed the shuttlepods approach vector. Then Archer secured his console and rose from his seat to face the rest of his senior officers, all of whom were seated aft of the cockpit area. TPol regarded him with an all but unreadable expression, while both Phlox and Hoshi watched him as well, their gazes radiating quiet concern. Malcolm stared distractedly out of one of the small portside windows, apparently lost in his own thoughts.

Archer took the empty seat beside his tactical officer. “Looks like my speech must have come off as badly as I think it did.

Reed turned toward him, displaying a bemused expression. “Sir?

“You seem to be brooding, Malcolm. Just like the rest of my audience.

“I wouldnt say Im exactly brooding,Captain, he said in his clipped British accent. “I was just thinking about these Breen that Minister Soval mentioned.

“Ah. Archer nodded. “What about them?

“I just wonder why the hell weve never heard of them before, sir.

Archer had considered that as well, but had already decided that he had to place some limits on his capacity to worry about the future, the unknown, and what might be the unknowable.

“Perhaps the Breen are obscure to humans because so little is known about them, TPol said. “Even the Vulcan Security Directorate possesses very little hard information about that species.

Archer nodded, accepting TPols explanation at face value. “Theres no point in jumping at shadows, Malcolm, he said. “For all we know, the Breen are really just Sovals favorite breed of saber‑toothed Vulcan puppies, and he was just jerking our collective chains. Besides, weve got the annual inspection of the Altair VI outpost ahead of us, and then its back to the commercial freight corridors to prowl for pirates, Romulans, or whatever else turns up. Weve already got enough on our plate without borrowing any moretrouble.

Reed smiled ironically. “Worrying just might be the biggest part of a tactical officers job description, sir.

Sir,he thought, nodding a silent acknowledgment of Malcolms commendable vigilance. Captain.When had his crew begun sounding so excessively formal in his presence?

It started after Trip left,he realized in a rush. Despite the fact that his working relationship with TPol had grown more close, open, and cordial than he had ever imagined possible, there was nobody aboard Enterprisewho could fill the cold void created by Trips open‑ended absence. Though he knew Trips death was merely a ruseas did TPol, Phlox, and Reedit felt real enough to inspire genuine mourning.

Captain. Sir. Captain. Nobody here feels comfortable just calling me Jonathan.Not even TPol, who had to have been grieving over Trips absence even more intensely than Archer was, her Vulcan emotional makeup notwithstanding.

He suddenly felt more disconcertingly alone than he had since hed first accepted command of Enterprise.

THREE

Vulcan Year 8737 (2135 A.C.E.) Trilan (Vulcan outpost settlement)

TP OL FLATTENED HERSELFagainst the moist wall, struggling to keep her ragged inhalations under control. She wasnt certain what had happened to the others. It had been at least a quarter of an hour since she had heard any screams, or anything other than the sound of her own heartbeat and rushing bloodlife‑giving fluid that she felt certain might be betraying her even now.

She had been one of six agents of the VSharthe Vulcan Security Directoratethat had undertaken this mission, but she knew that their prey had already dispatched at least two of the others. Their squads leader, Denak, had disappeared down a hole in the ground; the fact that the hole had sealed itself almost immediately lent credence to the idea that Denak had been takenand had not fallen victim to a simple misstep.

The two other VShar agents had similarly disappeared as theyd made their way through the dank caverns that housed the Frislen, but TPol had nimbly managed to avoid capture. She tried to tamp down the voice inside her that fairly screamed, You havent been takenyet. In this context, the feeling of fear was less an emotion than a primal survival instinct. She allowed it to settle upon her like a warm but ill‑fitting cloak.

To catch something as primal as these creatures, I must think like them,TPol reasoned. It was, in fact, one of the most basic lessons of intelligence and espionage work; to infiltrate, one had to learn to think like ones opponent, even to the point of becoming one of them if necessary.

She knew that she could never becomeone of the Frislen, unless she contracted the contagion that had ravaged them. From what the Security Directorates files had indicated, that would require both intimate sexual contact and a significant blood‑to‑blood transfer; the majority of the Frislens victims were not transformed, however, but served instead as food for their cannibalistic appetites.

Despite their savagery, the Frislen were apparently not without technological defenses, as the VShar team had learned shortly after disembarking here. A targeted electromagnetic pulse had rendered not only all of their scanning and communication equipment useless, but their weaponry as well. The pulse should have been their cue to leave, as TPol and Eskren had reasoned, but Denak had ordered them to move into the caves that apparently housed the Frislen. They were armed now only with smaller weapons barely suitable for hand‑to‑hand combat, although TPol knew that she could throw the hand‑length tricheqon her belt with deadly accuracy. Once, at least.

TPol felt her boots come into contact with something on the floor, and she crouched defensively, peering into the darkness around her. One hand moved forward, and her fingers connected with something crust‑covered and tubular. Further exploration told her that what she had stumbled upon was the skeletal remains ofsomething. She couldnt be certain what it was. It wasnt humanoid, but it was too large to be one of the smaller creatures that were indigenous to this world.

A sehlat,she finally reasoned, exploring further and finding not only clumps of fur and gristle, but also the sharp tusks that were indicative of adolescent‑to‑fully‑grown members of the urso‑feline species that this forbidding worlds Vulcan settlers had brought with them.

Her mind racing, TPol quickly began removing certain parts of the sehlats skeletal structure. She winced as she broke several of the bonesthe sound of the cracks was like cannon fire in the tunnelsbut her fingers told her that she had guessed correctly about the brittle condition of the remains.

A short while later, TPol heard sounds nearby. She couldnt tell from which direction they had emanated, but she assumed she was now being stalked anew. Crouching lower, curled almost into a ball, she quickly finished making her preparations, then stood. Shaking, she used a bone fragment to scratch the top side of her shoulder, where the fabric of her sedmahhad already been torn. She felt the blood well up immediately; she had been cut deeply enough to bleed, but not enough to cause nerve damagenor, she hoped, to affect her defensive abilities.

Knowing that the Frislen could detect her scent even more strongly than before, TPol sprinted forward into the darkness, barely able to see the tunnels around her. She sensed movement behind her, but dared not whirl around to face her pursuers. The only thing she knew for certain was that the farther into the caves she got, the closer she would come to their nest.

The floor abruptly gave way in front of her, and she pitched forward, falling into a shallow fissure or ravineor a trapand she felt the creatures leap on her the next moment, their hands pummeling her over and over again, their nails slashing at her. She struggled against their powerful limbs, but after an indefinable length of time allowed herself to go limp. She focused her conscious mind inward, ready to wake up fully with the speed of a charging le‑matyafrom behind her meditative shield against both mortal terror and physical pain.

They carried her with them instead of dragging her, and she was grateful for that, even as she continued to focus herself on what was to come. Eventually, she heard screams she could identify as coming from Vekkr, but as they came closer, the wailing subsided into guttural cries and moans. She hoped silently that if she should survive the mission, she would be able to find the strength to deliver a painless death to any of her comrades who had become infected.

She remained limp as a rag doll as her captors unceremoniously dumped her against something hard, allowing her to land in a semiseated position. Vekkr was mostly silent now, though in her meditative state, TPol could hear several of the other sounds that were reverberating through the dark, rocky chamber. Within her mind, she withdrew, as if she were a hungry, ravening Underlier waiting to strike from below the baking sands of Vulcans Forge.