Текст книги "Twilight "

Автор книги: David George

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Текущая страница: 40 (всего у книги 42 страниц)

68

The door opened, and Ezri stepped onto the bridge. Julian stood at her side, wanting to assist her, she suspected, but respecting her need to walk onto the bridge unaided. She was still recuperating from her latest experience with the thoughtscape, but when she had received word from Bowers that something was happening on the planet, she had wanted to be here. Julian had understood, and had put up no argument.

As they made their way toward the center of the bridge, passing Nog at the engineering console, Ezri saw the eyes of all the crew directed forward. She peered up at the main viewscreen. The clouds surrounding the planet had erupted in one area, as though forced up from below. The movement of the cloud cover had become far more violent, she saw, even causing numerous breaks through which the planet’s surface was now visible. The effects could not have been the result of the pulse, Ezri realized at once, because if they had been, then Bowers would already have ordered Defiantaway. “What’s happening down there?” she asked as she and Julian came abreast of the command chair.

“We’re not sure,” Bowers said, vacating the chair and allowing Ezri to take it. “But we’re seeing some breaks in the clouds, big enough to allow us to scan through them. The energy buildup at the source of the pulse appears to be dissipating there and spreading out into the atmosphere.”

“Is the pulse still a danger?” she asked.

“Not as far as we can tell,” Bowers reported. “At least, not right now.”

Ezri turned and looked past Julian, over toward the engineering station. “Nog,” she said, “you did it.” The away team must have succeeded in deploying the devices Nog and his engineers had developed and sent down to the surface. For the moment, it appeared that four billion Vahni Vahltupali would be safe.

“Not me,” Nog said, turning in his chair toward her. “The explosion should have sealed the interface. The energy should have been trapped on the other side.”

She looked to Bowers. “Has the thoughtscape emerged onto the planet?”

He shook his head. “We can’t tell what happened.”

Quietly, so that only Bowers could hear, she asked, “Has there been any sign of the shuttle?”

“We’ve been scanning outward from the site of the pulse wherever we can,” Bowers said, lowering the volume of his voice to match hers. “So far, nothing.”

Ezri considered their options. She eased herself up out of the command chair and walked over to the engineering station. “Nog,” she asked, “how long until the Saganwill be repaired?”

“At least two more days,” he said.

She turned and looked back at the viewscreen. Even if Saganwere available right now, she did not know if she would order it down to the surface. As much as the cloud cover had been in motion when Defianthad first arrived here, there had been enough stability in it that, when openings through the clouds had formed, the crew had been able to safely send both a probe and the shuttle through and down to the planet. But now the scene on the main viewer showed an atmosphere in complete turmoil. The idea of putting more lives at risk—

“I’ve got the shuttle,” Ensign Merimark called from the tactical station.

Ezri heard reaction from the bridge crew, but she ignored it, instead pacing over to stand beside Merimark. “What are you reading?” she asked.

“I’m picking up Chaffee’s transponder signal,” Merimark said. “I’m trying to scan the location…it’s difficult, there’s still energy in the clouds, and they’re moving so—wait…there…it’s on the surface…I’m reading hull plating—” When the ensign suddenly stopped speaking, a sense of dread filled Ezri.

“What is it?” she asked.

Merimark looked up with a weary, pained expression on her face. “The shuttle crashed,” she reported. “There are no life signs.”

Ezri felt whatever strength she had left in her drain away. She looked over at Julian. He stared back, the anguish he felt apparent on his face, as it must have been on her own.

“Lieutenant Nog,” she said firmly, finding strength in her responsibility to the crew. “I want the Saganready as soon as possible, crews working on it around the clock.”

“Aye, sir,” Nog said.

“Lieutenant Bowers, I want options,” she told him. “I want to find the away team.” She did not need to add alive or dead.

“Yes, sir,” Bowers said.

Ezri had already lost Gerda, and now maybe she had lost Vaughn and Shar and Prynn, but she would not leave this planet until she knew that for sure.

Ezri sat in the command chair, watching along with the rest of the crew as the planet below was transformed. Above the area from which the pulse had once originated, a huge mass of unidentifiable gray matter burst up into the atmosphere. Like the darkened image of a nuclear detonation, the mass emerged kilometers wide through the cloud cover. The clouds themselves fled from the explosion of matter, pushed aside by the enormous displacement of air.

The gray mass spread as it surged upward, and at its edges, began to turn back toward the planet, as though gravity had only just prevented it from surging out into space. Its surface whirled at uncounted points, a collection of spinning vortices impossibly bound together. The mass seemed to hover as it unfolded, as if now defying gravity.

And then it plunged down, not falling back to the planet, but diving toward the surface. The mass hurtled earthward, streaking down faster than it had climbed up. It struck the ground with phenomenal force, instantly liquefying rock at the points of impact, and sending expanses of ground blasting outward. The mass pushed along the surface, dislodging the crust to a depth of ten kilometers.

The clouds, tossed away earlier, now returned and joined the maelstrom, swirling into the mix of gray matter and rocky debris. Energy surges forked like lightning across the exterior of the enormous amalgamation. The mass grew across the surface.

And then the planet became shrouded once more, buried beneath a churning gray shell that hovered between solid and liquid states. The mass undulated like a living thing. It reached unbroken from pole to pole.

Ezri watched all of this, something she had not witnessed in nine lifetimes of experience, and thought, Vaughn and Shar and Prynn are down there.

Or at least, they had been.

Over the course of hours, the great, gray shell smoothed and calmed, but sensors could not pierce even its outer layers. Through breaks in the cover that had occurred during the transformation, though, scans had indicated that the energy level at the site of the pulse had dropped to zero. Whatever had happened down on the planet—and whatever price had been paid to make it happen—the pulse had been neutralized.

The science and engineering teams continued searching for a means of penetrating the shell, either with sensors or with Sagan,once it had been repaired. While the crew held out little hope of finding the away team alive, Ezri refused to accept that—felt that it was her duty to refuse to accept that. She had briefly thought about the eulogies she might have to deliver for her crewmates, not much more than a week after the service for Gerda Roness, but she had quickly scuttled such morbid—and inappropriate—notions. As the acting captain of the ship, Ezri remained dedicated to doing all that she could to save the away team, and she would presume them alive until it had been proven that they—

“Something’s happening on the planet,” Ensign Merimark announced. “I’m reading a break in the shell…two breaks…both sizable.”

“Put it on the viewer,” Ezri said. The main screen blinked, and one view of the planet was replaced by another, targeted view. On the surface of the gray shell, two small, circular holes had appeared.

“The openings are both fifty-three-point-three kilometers in diameter,” Merimark reported. “Depth…they reach all the way down to the planet. I’ve got full sensor contact down to the surface.”

Foreboding suddenly washed over Ezri, the narrow cylinders in the shell uncomfortably reminiscent of the barrels of weapons. She recalled the simulation of the pulse that Nog had shown her down in engineering, and she now envisioned the destructive energy hurtling through the cylinders and out into space. “Are there any energy readings?” she asked.

“Negative,” Merimark said. “Energy readings are minimal. There doesn’t seem to be—” The ensign stopped speaking abruptly, and Ezri spun quickly around in her seat to face her. “I’m reading two life signs at the bottom of one well, one life sign at the bottom of the other.”

Ezri vaulted out of the command chair and raced to Merimark’s station. “Are they human?” Ezri asked, looking for the answer on the console. “Andorian?” She felt her heart pounding in her chest, a desperate hope forming in her mind.

Merimark’s fingers flew across the panel, causing words and numbers to march across her display. “One Andorian,” she said. “And two humans. Two of them are in environmental suits.”

“Transfer the coordinates to the transporter,” Ezri said at once.

“Aye, sir,” Merimark said.

“Dax to medical bay.”

“Go ahead,”Bashir replied.

“Julian,” she said with barely restrained excitement, “we’ve located an Andorian and two humans down on the planet. We’ll have them beamed directly to you.” She felt absolutely astonished at the unexpected turn of events, both disbelief and joy coursing through her.

“Acknowledged,”Julian said, and she could hear his excitement even in the single word. “I’ll keep you posted. Bashir out.”

“Dax to transporter.”

“This is Chao,”came the voice of the transporter chief.

“Chief, we need an emergency site-to-site transport from the planet’s surface directly to the medical bay,” Ezri said, the words spilling from her. “One Andorian, two humans. Ensign Merimark is transferring the coordinates.”

“I see them,”the chief said. “Transporter locks… established.”

“Acknowledged,” Ezri said. “Bring them home.”

69

Ro Laren stepped out of her office and set the lock. It had been quite a day, and she looked forward to crawling into bed, pushing away all thoughts of Bajor and the Federation, and getting some sleep. Of course, she had not been able to do that for the past couple of nights, which certainly contributed to her exhaustion right now.

“What a coincidence,” a voice said from just down the Promenade.

Ro turned and looked in that direction, the figure of Quark difficult to see clearly in the shadows of DS9’s simulated night. He stood at the entrance to the bar, evidently just closing up himself. “I don’t know if I believe in coincidences,” she said, and began walking toward him.

“Oh no?” Quark said. He waited until she reached him before continuing. “Are you suggesting that I planned this?” he asked in obvious mock offense. “Are you suggesting that I stood right here, staring over at the security office and waiting for you to come out, when I could have closed up half an hour ago?”

“Well, didn’t you?” she asked, playing along. Ro realized that one of the things she particularly liked about Quark was simply that he was fun.

“Actually,” he said, reaching down and setting the lock on the bar entrance, “it was more like forty-five minutes.”

Ro laughed, which felt especially good after the stress of this week. That was another thing she liked about Quark: he was funny.

“May I walk you to your quarters, Laren?” he asked.

“Well,” she said, drawing the word out as though having to seriously consider her answer, “I suppose since you’ve been waiting here solong…” She started for the turbolift, and he fell in step beside her.

“Now that’s what I like,” Quark said. “A female who knows her own value.”

“What do you mean?” she asked him.

“I mean, if I’d only been waiting for you for fifteen minutes,” he said, “you probably would’ve left me standing there.”

“Probably,” she agreed with a smile. They reached the turbolift, and Quark pressed the control panel in the bulkhead beside it. The door retracted, and she and Quark entered the car. “So, Quark,” she said after the door had closed and she had specified her destination,

“were you really waiting for me?” The lift began its descent.

“Not really,” Quark said, and Ro felt a twinge of disappointment. “I could have closed up an hour ago, but Morn kept going on and on about the political situation on Beta Antares IV. Turns out one of his sisters is a top boss there.”

“‘Boss’?” Ro said. “Isn’t that sort of an odd title for a politician?” She had heard of government officials being called many things, but bosshad never been one of them.

“With Morn,” Quark said, “I don’t ask questions.”

“Why not?”

“Because he might answer them,” Quark moaned, “and then another hour of my life would be gone.” Ro chuckled, well aware of Morn’s penchant for seemingly endless conversation.

As the lift changed direction, Ro noticed something. She looked over at Quark, and said, “You’re not wearing that cologne anymore.”

Quark offered a little shrug. “You didn’t like it,” he said.

“That’s very considerate.”

“That’s the 305th Rule of Acquisition,” he told her. “‘Always be considerate.’”

“No. Really?” she said, and felt immediately foolish for having asked. She may not have known all the Rules of Acquisition—or any of them, for that matter—but she could have guessed that being considerate was not a business principle widely held by the Ferengi. She really must be tired. Quark apparently saw her embarrassment, because he did not bother to say anything, but only raised the ridge above his eyes. “Don’t laugh,” she warned.

“Who’s laughing?”

“Well, how was business tonight anyway?” she asked, clumsily changing the subject.

“Good,” Quark said. “Except for me buying a round for everybody.”

“At least you got one back,” Ro said, referring to the drink she had bought him earlier, after Shakaar’s announcement. She had enjoyed that, although she had been called away on a security matter soon after.

“Best drink I ever had,” he said, his appreciation clearly genuine.

The turbolift decelerated to a stop, and the door slid open before them. Ro stepped out into the habitat ring, but when she looked around, she saw that Quark had remained in the car. “Aren’t you coming?” she asked. “I thought you were going to walk me to my quarters.”

He did not move, but looked at her with a serious expression on his face. “May I ask you a question, Laren?”

Ro suspected she knew what the question would be, and she made a decision she could not entirely believe she was making. “The answer is yes,”she said.

Quark lips parted in a big smile, his eyes wide with surprise. “You haven’t even heard the question yet,” he said.

Ro reached out to the side of the doorway, then leaned back into the turbolift, holding Quark’s gaze. “I trust you,” she said.

Quark looked into her eyes for a few seconds, but then he said, “You might want to wait for me to ask this question before answering.”

“Okay,” she said. “Go ahead.”

“I, uh, I wanted to, uh, know,” he said, stumbling along. “I wanted to know if you would like to go out with me?”

“You mean on a date?” she asked solemnly. Quark nodded. “Then the answer is yes.”She pushed away from the side of the doorway and swung back into the corridor. “Now, walk me to my quarters,” she said. “I’m exhausted and I need to sleep.”

Quark exited the car, and the two began walking toward her quarters, side by side. They were both quiet for a few moments, a silence Ro found very comfortable, something she had not experienced in quite some time. Even with Bajor joining the Federation, and her future filled with nothing but uncertainty, she felt content right now. And before she realized she was doing it, she reached over and took Quark’s hand in her own.

They walked like that all the way to her quarters.

70

Prynn opened her eyes as though from a long and restful sleep. She had no conscious thoughts as she lay on her back, staring up in the dimly lighted room. After a few seconds, for no good reason, she turned her head to the right. When she saw Shar lying on the diagnostic bed next to her, she bolted up, leaning on her hands. In an instant, she recalled everything that had taken place on the planet, up until the moment Shar had yelled at her to get the helmets. It seemed impossible that they had not been killed, but—

Dad,she thought, remembering the great gray column, expanding outward, obviously from an explosion—an explosion where he had been. Prynn spun quickly around to look at the diagnostic bed to her left. It was empty. Dad,she thought again, calling to him in her mind, but she knew that he was gone. She dropped down onto her side on the bed. Tears blurred her vision and rolled down her face. She felt hollow. She had lost her father, and to make it worse, she had also lost the last seven years with him.

At the periphery of her perception, Prynn heard the whisper of a door. She ignored it, unable to focus on anything but her sorrow. She squeezed her eyes shut as she began to sob.

“Ensign Tenmei?” Through the sounds of her grief, she heard the voice of Dr. Bashir. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and she opened her eyes. Before her, she saw the shape of his face, though she could not make out his features in the shadowy lighting. “Are you in pain?” Bashir asked.

Pain,Prynn thought, and could not begin to describe the agony that consumed her. She tried to answer, but she could not stop crying. Finally, she managed to say, “My father.”

“Oh,” Bashir said. “Ensign, your father’s going to be fine.”

Her tears seemed to stop immediately. “What?” she asked, raising her head. “What?”

“Your father’s here in the medical bay,” Bashir told her. Prynn stared at him, unmoving. She felt him exert pressure on her shoulder, trying gently to push her. She allowed him to guide her, and she peered into the gloom where he pointed. “Computer,” Bashir said, “lights up one-quarter.”

As the illumination in the medical bay increased, Prynn looked up at Dr. Bashir’s face for a moment. Then she peered back to where he was pointing, at a diagnostic bed halfway across the room. She saw the figure of a man lying atop it and recognized her father’s profile at once. The sheet covering him up to his shoulders rose and fell at his chest, confirmation of his breathing.

Prynn laughed, a sharp, involuntary noise as uncontrollable as her crying had been. “He’s alive,” she sputtered. She laughed again, even as tears began streaming down her face once more.

“Yes, he is,” Bashir said. Prynn leaned backward, ready to fall onto the bed, but the doctor put a hand behind her and lowered her down. “Computer, night lighting,” he said. The shadows returned, the doctor’s face fading from sight once more. “I’m going to get you something to help you sleep,” he told her.

“Wait,” she said, grabbing his arm as he started to go. “How did we get here?”

“I wasn’t on the bridge when it happened,” he said, “but I believe that the clouds cleared above you, and we just beamed you up. You and Ensign ch’Thane were wearing environmental suits, so you were able to survive down on the planet during its…transformation.” He tapped at her hand, then softly pulled it from his arm and set it beside her on the bed. “I’m going to get something to help you through the night,” he said again, and he walked away.

Before he returned, Prynn had already fallen back to sleep.

71

As Kira prepared to leave her quarters for her office, she thought again about contacting Kasidy. She had tried to reach her last night, right after Shakaar’s announcement, but Kas’s comm system had not been accepting incoming transmissions. She knew that Kas sometimes shut down her comm when writing letters, not wanting to be distracted. Kira had not bothered to leave a message.

Now, even though it was still early—more than an hour before the start of the day shift—she decided to try again. She sat down at her companel, opened a channel, and sent a greeting. After only a few seconds, the display blinked and Kasidy appeared. “Nerys,”she said with a bright smile. She looked as though she had been awake for a while.

“Good morning,” Kira said. “It looks like I’m not contacting you too early.”

“Not at all,”Kas said. “I always love hearing from you. Of course, if I could only get you to come for a visit…”

“I know, I know,” Kira said. “As soon as I can get away…”

“Nerys, if I have to wait for a day you’re not working, then this child—”Kasidy reached down below the view on the display, obviously running her hand across the swell in her midsection. “—will probably have a command of their own by then.”Kira chuckled, and resolved again to find some time to visit Bajor. “So how are you?”

“I guess…I’m pretty excited,” Kira said, putting her anticipation into words for the first time.

“‘Excited’? Now that sounds good,”Kas said. “About what?”

“About Bajor.” Kira realized that Kas did not know what had happened yesterday. “You haven’t heard, have you?”

“Apparently not,”Kasidy said. “Why don’t you tell me?”

“Kas, Bajor’s been accepted into the Federation.” The words actually sounded like something out of a dream to Kira. This time had been in Bajor’s future for so long now that it seemed strange for it to finally be in the present. “The official signing will take place in six weeks.”

Surprise showed on Kasidy’s face. “When did this happen?”she wanted to know. Kira told her about Akaar and the ambassadors and the summit, and then about the first minister’s speech. When she had finished, Kasidy said, “I didn’t realize this was so close to happening.”

“I don’t think any of us did,” Kira agreed, “other than Shakaar.” She noticed that Kas’s expression had slipped from surprise to what looked like discomfort. “Are you all right?” Kira asked. “Does this bother you?”

“I’m fine,”Kasidy said. “It’s just…I’m not exactly sure how I’m supposed to feel about this.”She paused, and then said, “I mean, I’ll be living in Federation territory, so that’s a good thing.”

“It will all be good.”

“I know, you’re right,”Kasidy said. “It’s just that…”

Just that Captain Sisko should be here,Kira thought. “It’s all right, Kas. You had a sacred vision, so you know that Benjamin is with the Prophets. And that means he must know about this.”

“Of course,”Kasidy replied, a forced smile appearing on her face. “You’re right. I’m sure Ben’s very happy about this.”

“I’m sure he is,” Kira said. “He worked hard for this, against a lot of opposition and through some difficult times. But this is all happening because of him.”

Kasidy smiled again, and this time, it seemed genuine. “He really was—he reallyis– something.”

“Yes, he is.”

For the next hour, they talked about Benjamin Sisko.