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Twilight
  • Текст добавлен: 21 сентября 2016, 16:34

Текст книги "Twilight "


Автор книги: David George



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Текущая страница: 27 (всего у книги 42 страниц)






39



Vaughn had walked for hours. Night had fallen now, and it had fallen hard. With no moons to reflect sunlight through the clouds, and the remote light of the stars unable to penetrate the atmospheric cover, darkness reigned. Vaughn hiked now toward his destination holding the beacon out before him, illuminating the ground a few meters ahead. He imagined peering down on himself from a height, a solitary mote in the empty ebon setting. So completely had the day vanished around him that Vaughn felt utterly alone, adrift on a virtually invisible sea, with the shore nothing more than a distant, impossible memory.

Iam alone,he thought. As far as he knew, there were only two other people on this entire planet, and he had walked away from them. A modern-day Michael Collins,he romanticized. Four centuries ago, as humanity had first set foot on another world, Michael Collins had become the loneliest human being in history. He and two other astronauts, Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin, had journeyed from the Earth to the moon in a two-vehicle tandem spacecraft, one of which had then descended to the lunar surface. Collins had remained in the orbiter, and when it had circled around the far side of the moon, he had been cut off from all communication. By himself aboard Columbia,he had been farther from Earth than any single human had ever been, and totally unable to contact anybody, anywhere. The sense of isolation, Vaughn had always thought, must have been profound.

“‘Here men from the planet Earth,’” he quoted aloud, “‘first set foot upon the moon.’” His words fled into the night, the sound of his voice small and insignificant in the vast, unseen emptiness about him. Vaughn recalled his first trip to the Sea of Tranquillity, and to the preserved remnants of man’s first steps out into the cosmos—the base of Eagle,the landing craft; the camera that had transmitted images of the event back to the people of Earth; the flag of the old nation-state that had sent the astronauts. Vaughn’s life had already changed by that time—he had been pulled away from his childhood dreams of exploration and into the world of special ops—but he had still been overcome by a sense of awe during that visit to the landing site.

Now he remembered the last sentence on the plaque that those early space travelers had left behind: “We came in peace for all mankind.”For Vaughn, those words epitomized the spirit of discovery. They reflected his aspirations to explore the universe with amity for all, to gather and share whatever wondrous new knowledge he could. This mission to travel the Gamma Quadrant had been intended to serve those purposes, but it had instead transformed into a rescue mission, at least for now. We came in desperation to save mankind,he thought. To save the Vahni.

As Vaughn strode through the darkness, he felt the ground begin to ascend beneath him. For the last couple of hours, the gentle swells of grass-covered hills had risen and fallen in his path, reducing his pace, and worse, causing him to exert himself more. His legs and feet still felt good—the grass actually cushioned his footsteps somewhat—but a dull ache had developed at the top of his right leg, near his hip. The pain was mild, but what had at first been an occasional twinge now occurred with every step.

Vaughn stopped, tucked the beacon beneath his left arm, and pulled out his tricorder. He scanned along his right side and saw that he had strained his hip flexor. Nothing could be done about it, though, since he had left the medical supplies back with Prynn and ch’Thane. He would simply have to live with the pain.

Vaughn swung around and performed a sensor sweep back along his path. He searched for the downed shuttle and the life signs of Prynn and ch’Thane. He found nothing and tried again. As he had drawn closer to the source of the pulse, interference from the energy there had increasingly affected both sensors and communications. On his third attempt, he picked up the shuttle, and shortly after that, human and Andorian biological signatures. Vaughn had traveled more than fifty kilometers from there, he saw.

That seems right,Vaughn thought, considering how long he had been walking, and that he had been able to maintain a steady pace, at least until encountering the hills. He had rested for ten minutes every two hours, unfurling the bedroll and lying atop it in order to rest his body as completely as possible in that short interval. He had also eaten the contents of two of the rations packets, and sipped periodically at the containers of water. As the day had departed, the temperature had fallen, down into single digits, which at least had the benefit of lessening his need for water. Fortunately, cool as it had become, his old coat and his almost constant movement had kept him warm.

Fifty kilometers,Vaughn thought. That meant that the facility surrounding the place from which the pulse emanated could be anywhere from just beyond the next hill to two hundred more kilometers away. He turned back in the direction of his destination and scanned ahead. Energy again interfered with his readings, but then they cleared and revealed something just a few kilometers away. Sensors revealed buildings, machinery, thoroughfares—and no energy readings. What lay ahead was not the source of the pulse, but a city. A deadcity; as with all those they had flown over in the shuttle, this one showed no indications of extant life.

Vaughn took the beacon in his hand again and began forward. As he climbed the hill in his path, he checked the time on the tricorder and saw that it had been fifty-seven minutes since he had last spoken with Prynn. During his march across the planet, he had contacted her once an hour, allowing them to update each other on their progress; while Vaughn had tried to reach the source of the pulse, Prynn had begun her attempts to configure a working transporter from the wreckage of Chaffee.

Vaughn thumbed off the signal that would sound on the hour, then closed the tricorder and returned it to a coat pocket. He reached up and slapped at his combadge, the electronic tones of its activation sounding hollow and slight in the open air. “Vaughn to Tenmei,” he said. Seconds passed with no response. “Vaughn to Tenmei,” he said again. He waited longer this time, and was about to speak again when he finally heard Prynn’s voice.

“ThisTenmeicanme?”Bursts of static split her words apart. “RepeatTenmeihear me?”

Vaughn stopped in his tracks and turned back in the direction of the crashed shuttle. “I can hear you, but just barely,” he said, raising his voice. “I’m obviously too far from you now, too close to the pulse site. Are you all right?”

“… fineShar’s vitals are improv…”came Prynn’s response, again punctuated by the white noise of the energy’s interference. “… some successporterther day…”Vaughn waited to hear more, not wanting to miss anything she said by talking while she might still be transmitting. When he heard nothing more, he went on himself.

“I’ve covered more than fifty kilometers so far,” he said. “I don’t know how far I am from the pulse, but there’s a city a short distance up ahead. I’ll probably walk for another hour or so now, then stop and sleep for about six hours before continuing.” In truth, Vaughn would have preferred to keep going until he collapsed, but he knew he would be more likely to reach the site of the pulse in time if he did not completely exhaust himself. He waited once more for a response, but none came. He tapped his combadge again. “Vaughn to Tenmei,” he said. “Vaughn to Tenmei.”

Nothing.

Vaughn turned and continued on his way. When he reached the top of the hill, he tried one final time to reach Prynn. But past the chirp of his combadge and the sound of his voice, he heard nothing but the insubstantial background whine of the clouds.

Somehow, it felt as though he had lost his daughter again.







40



Kira stood in her bedroom and slipped into the jacket of her dress uniform. She fastened it closed, then tugged at its hem, straightening it and trying to get it to sit comfortably on her body. She glanced briefly in the mirror, but she did not see her reflection; all she could see, all she could think about, were the locusts.

They had come in her dreams, billions of insects sweeping en masse across Bajor. They darkened the skies and eclipsed the sun, sending her world into an eerie darkness. Kira remembered running through a city—Ashalla, she thought—dashing down the pedestrian thoroughfares and yelling to people, warning them of the descending swarm.

She had woken up hours ago, sweating, the bedclothes torn from the mattress. She had been unable to fall back to sleep, instead replaying the fragmentary dream—the nightmare—over and over in her mind. Even now, as she prepared for the day, prepared to meet the officials as they arrived at the station, she could not let it go. The sinister images still haunted her.

Kira left her bedroom and walked into the living area of her quarters. She headed for the door, intending to go to her office for a few hours before the delegates began arriving. A feeling stopped her in the middle of the room, though, and she turned, her gaze coming to rest on a photograph she kept on a side table. Captain Sisko—Benjamin Sisko, the Emissary—peered out from within the frame, his sleek, handsome aspect a source of strength for her even today, more than half a year after she had last seen him.

Except that today, the likeness of Benjamin Sisko also reminded Kira of when Bajor had been on the verge of entering the Federation three years ago. After the Emissary had experienced a pagh’tem’far—a sacred vision—he had urged the Bajorans not to join at that time, and they had heeded the advice of their religious icon. And the Emissary’s pagh’tem’far,Kira knew, had been one of locusts.

Kira breathed in and out quickly, her mind racing. She had no illusions that she had experienced any sort of a vision during the night, but she wanted to understand what her subconscious had been attempting to communicate to her. She need not be touched directly by the Prophets in order to trust her instincts. Her dream might not presage Bajor’s future, but it surely indicated what Kira thoughtmight happen, and how she felt about those possibilities.

Feeling a bit light-headed, Kira raised her arms to her waist and locked her hands together. She closed her eyes, then slowed and deepened her breathing, concentrating on one of her many meditation rituals. By degrees, a sensation of calmness spilled over her.

Kira opened her eyes and looked over again at the photograph of the Emissary, drawing hope from her memory of him. She started for the door, leaving thoughts of locusts behind. That was the past,she told herself, choosing to interpret her dream now not as an omen of things to come, but as a recollection only of things that had come before. Within months, or even weeks, Bajor might be a member of the Federation.Kira left her quarters, headed for her office and marching foursquare into the future.

As the airlock hatch rotated open, Kira tugged one last time at the front flap of her uniform, trying again to make it sit properly on her body. She actually liked the formal dress of the Militia—the soft, brushed fabric, the lavender coloring, the Bajoran style—but she just could never quite wear hers comfortably. She had fussed with the long wraparound jacket for half the morning, but nothing she did seemed to make any difference for more than a few seconds.

Get used it,she told herself. After all, she would be in the uniform for the rest of the day. She would greet the Alonis delegation when they arrived at the station in a few hours, and then Shakaar and his staff later in the day. This evening, she would host a reception for all of the guests.

Opposite Kira in the corridor, Lieutenant Alfonzo, who had opened the hatch, continued to work at a panel set into the bulkhead. The ring of heels on the metal decking of the airlock drowned out the beeps of the panel. Two figures emerged through the hatchway and stepped down into the corridor. The first stood a head taller than Kira, slender, and he moved with a natural grace. A second man accompanied him just behind and to his left, shorter, but solid and muscular. A narrow river of irregularly shaped spots flowed from each man’s forehead and down the sides of their face and neck.

“Welcome to Deep Space 9,” Kira said. “I’m Colonel Kira Nerys, commander of the station.” She stepped forward, holding out her hand in salutation. For a moment, she flashed back to the first time she had met Akaar, and she wondered if she had once again made a diplomatic blunder. She thought back to her seven years as DS9’s first officer, and she could not recall Captain Sisko ever having such problems receiving visitors to the station. But then the first man raised his own hand and clasped Kira’s. His hand felt cold, and Kira remembered that the same had been true of Jadzia, and that it was true now of Ezri.

“I am Seljin Gandres,” the man said, “Trill ambassador to the Federation.” He had long brown hair, down past his shoulder blades, far longer than she had ever seen on a male Trill. His eyes were a rich brown, but Kira also thought that they lacked a depth that she had always perceived in Jadzia’s eyes, and that she even saw now to some extent in Ezri’s. Even had Kira not read the biographical synopsis Starfleet had provided on the ambassador, she thought she would have been able to tell that he had not been joined to a symbiont. “This is one of my aides,” Gandres continued. “Hiziki Gard.”

Gard eased his way past the ambassador with a poise Kira found unexpected, given the man’s short stature and his muscled physique. He offered his hand, and Kira took it. “Welcome to the station,” she said.

“Thank you, Colonel,” he said. “A pleasure to meet you.” As with Gandres, Gard possessed an icy grasp. Unlike the ambassador, though, his eyes gave the impression of great knowledge and experience, belied by the outward appearance of his age. Kira released his hand, and with an effortless bearing, he slid back into his subservient position behind and beside Gandres.

“Ambassador,” Kira said, “the local time here is ten hundred hours, and we’ve planned a reception for all the delegations at twenty hundred, so you’ve got ten hours until then. In the meantime, I’d be happy to conduct you on a tour of the station, if you’re interested, or I could have you escorted to the quarters we’ve arranged for you and your staff.”

“Pardon me, Colonel,” Gard said, “but would it be possible to inspect the quarters before occupying them?”

Gandres turned his head and peered down at his aide. “Forgive my aide’s impertinence, Colonel,” the ambassador said, “but he is in charge of security for our contingent, and he is…thorough.”

“I intended no disrespect,” Gard said, bowing his head. Kira recognized the truth of his words—he had intended no disrespect—but she also understood that he made no apology for wanting to see to the security needs of the ambassador.

“Not at all,” Kira said. “Lieutenant Alfonzo can take Mr. Gard there now.” She gestured with an open hand toward Alfonzo, who had completed his task at the panel, she saw. “Just so you know, though, we have tightened security on the station in anticipation of the summit.” She spoke directly to Gandres, but she intended her words for Gard as well. “The arc of the habitat ring in which the delegations will be housed has been swept and closed to all but authorized personnel. We’ve also closed this section of the docking ring, as well as the crossover bridge connecting this location with your quarters.”

Kira wondered if she should have asked Ro to join her in welcoming the delegation to the station. She had considered doing so, but had decided that such an action would have been antithetical to the low profile Akaar had requested. Kira had also opted not to burden her security chief with having to wear a dress uniform for the day; Ro struck her as someone not particularly comfortable in formal settings.

Over the past two and a half days, Kira had met with Ro several times in order to discuss security for the summit. In Kira’s opinion, Ro had done an exceptional job of both planning and implementing the new procedures and mechanisms. Even simply coming out to the docking port just now, Kira had been impressed not only by the execution of the new protocols, but by their unobtrusiveness. Ro had posted security officers throughout the station at critical locations, of course, but she had also devised a means of keeping them at a distance from the delegations. Lieutenant Alfonzo, Kira knew, had just now collected the individual sensor signatures of the ambassador and his aide. As the two men moved throughout this section of the docking ring, their assigned section of the habitat ring, and the crossover bridge between, force fields would raise and lower along their paths, both before and after them, far enough away to occur without being noticed, but close enough to provide a genuine measure of protection. The same would be done for every member of the two Federation delegations and the Bajoran delegation. It was, Kira thought, an ingenious solution.

“We also haven’t announced the summit to anybody on the station beyond the necessary personnel,” Kira concluded, “and First Minister Shakaar has not made a public announcement of it yet on Bajor, so few people are even aware that it will be taking place.”

“I appreciate your diligent efforts to ensure our safety,” Gandres said. “Actually, before taking a tour of the station or settling into our quarters, there is somebody aboard I would like to meet.” Kira had been expecting this. “We…that is, the Federation Council…understand that a Jem’Hadar soldier is now living aboard Deep Space 9.”

“That’s true,” Kira said, “although we don’t think of Taran’atar as a soldier.” She took care to respond in a manner that would signal her intent not to contradict the ambassador, but simply to provide him with information.

“Is he a diplomat then?” Gard asked.

“More a student studying abroad,” Kira found herself saying. “He was sent here by Odo to observe and try to understand life in the Alpha Quadrant,” she went on, “and he’s been doing that.” She was pleased now that she had asked him not to shroud on the station.

“I understand,” Gandres said.

Kira moved to her left and touched a companel set into the bulkhead there. The panel sprang to life with an electronic tone, a Cardassian “shatterframe” display appearing on it. “Computer,” she said, “locate Taran’atar.”

“Taran’atar is in ops,”the computer replied. Kira lowered her hand, and the panel winked off.

“Ambassador, I’d like to accompany you to ops,” Gard said. “I can verify the security arrangements for our quarters later.”

Gandres listened to his aide, then said to Kira, “If you have no objection, Colonel.”

“Right this way,” Kira said, motioning toward the doors of the nearest turbolift, across from the airlock and a few paces down the corridor. Gandres and Gard turned in that direction, but before they reached the lift, the doors opened. Admiral Akaar appeared, his huge form expanding out of the car as though he had been stuffed within its confines.

“Colonel,” the admiral said, looking at her before turning his attention to Gandres. “Ambassador,” he said, bringing a closed fist up to his chest, and then opening it before him. “I welcome you with an open heart and hand.” To Kira’s surprise, Gandres returned the gesture.

“L.J.,” the ambassador said, “how are you?”

“I’m well,” Akaar said. “Colonel Kira has been most hospitable.” Although she kept her expression neutral, Kira was shocked by the statement; as far as she was concerned, her relationship with the admiral had been nothing but adversarial. He need not have told the ambassador that, of course, but then, he need not have said anything at all. “And how are you?”

“I’m doing well,” Gandres said. Then, turning, he introduced Gard. “One of my aides, Hiziki Gard. This is Fleet Admiral Akaar.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Gard said, and he held out an open hand to the admiral. Kira felt both paralyzed and fascinated, unable to move or say anything as she watched the aide make the same mistake she had. Akaar seemed to appraise Gard for a moment, then reached out and took his hand. A phaser blast could not have stunned Kira more. She looked at the hands of the two men as they came together, Gard’s engulfed within Akaar’s, but the two held their stance solidly for a few seconds before letting go. Kira realized that she did not understand the admiral at all.

“Seljin,” Akaar said, looking back at the ambassador, “I’d like some of your time today. There are some issues I wish to discuss before tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Gandres said. “We can talk right now. Is there somewhere we can go?”

“How about back aboard your vessel?” the admiral asked. At first, Kira thought that Akaar was again trying to gain control of a meeting, but then she realized that, while he had taken her aboard Mjolnir,a setting with which he had been familiar, in this case, he was consenting to a setting with which he was not familiar.

“I would recommend meeting aboard our ship as well,” Gard offered. “At least until I can verify the security precautions on the station.”

Gandres acknowledged Gard with a nod, then turned to Kira. “Thank you for welcoming us to Deep Space 9, Colonel,” he said. “I’ll be in touch with you later.”

“You’re welcome, Ambassador,” she said. Gandres and Akaar disappeared into the airlock, and Kira pointed to Alfonzo. The lieutenant operated the airlock controls. The hatch rolled closed along its geared runway. “Have somebody relieve you here,” she told Alfonzo, “and then escort Mr. Gard to the quarters for the Trill delegation.”

“Aye, sir,” Alfonzo said.

“Thank you, Colonel,” Gard said.

Kira nodded, then turned and strode down the corridor, headed for her office. She started to attempt to decipher Akaar’s behavior, but found herself at a loss to do so. She thought she understood him now less than she had before.

Forget it,she told herself. There were more important things that she needed to focus on right now. She did not know how long the summit would last, but she suspected that the next few weeks aboard the station would prove very interesting.


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