Текст книги "Summon the Thunder"

Автор книги: Dayton Ward

Соавторы: Kevin Dilmore
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Текущая страница: 14 (всего у книги 30 страниц)

In response to his requests, the computer screen generated a new graph. Fisher watched as the function graph did not slope toward the zero baseline but instead spiked quickly.

M’Benga, who was watching the computer’s progress along with him, drew in a loud breath. “If he’d been alive, he’d have been fully compromised by the process.”

“In a matter of minutes,” Fisher clarified, “and depending on the size or location of the wound, I’m guessing it wouldn’t have been a pleasant experience.”

The sound of a pneumatic hiss from behind them caused both men to snap toward the morgue’s doorway as Rana Desai entered the room.

“Did I scare you gentlemen?” she asked, her tone suggesting that she hoped she had.

“You didn’t, no,” Fisher said, looking at M’Benga, “but we’ve got a case of the willies all the same. How can we help you, Captain?”

“Well, I’m not looking to interrupt,” Desai said, glancing at M’Benga a moment before returning her gaze to Fisher.

After a moment in silence, the younger physician nodded. “I ought to excuse myself, anyway,” he said. Looking to Fisher, he added, “I’d be very interested in hearing about any…developments, Doctor.”

“I’ll keep you posted,” Fisher replied, waiting until his colleague had left the morgue before turning to Desai and offering a sly smile. “I’m beginning to think you like hanging out in the basement.”

Desai shrugged in mock defensiveness. “Okay, so the occasional investigation happens to bring me down here once in a while, but maybe it’s not the morgue that I like so much as your charming company.”

“Uh-huh,” Fisher said, feeling more than a little unconvinced. “Well, if you’re down here, I’m guessing the Endeavourincident’s still on the fast track.”

“In a fashion, yes,” the captain said, pulling a chair closer to Fisher’s workstation and settling herself into it. “We’ve gotten some preliminary reports from those who survived the attack. Everyone’s accounts line up. The whole thing amounts to an expedition and a landing party that ran into something unanticipated and overwhelming. Based on their interviews, there’s just nothing that anyone could have done differently. This all seems…well, routine, for lack of a better word.” She released a tired sigh before adding, “Damn, I know that makes me sound cold, but how else do I say it?”

“How about ‘Accidental in the line of duty’?” Fisher offered. “You’re saying no one’s to blame.”

“Not every investigation in our office is launched with the hope of being able to turn up a mistake or a scapegoat,” Desai said, her defensiveness this time sounding genuine.

“You don’t need to tell me that, Rana,” Fisher said.

“Well, I have to tell Diego,” she shot back. “Every time.”

A tone from the computer terminal echoed in the morgue, and the doctor smiled. “Well, I guess you’ll have some good news for the commodore today.” Indicating for Desai to join him, he turned the monitor so that she could see the information displayed upon it.

“What are we looking at?” Desai asked.

Fisher did not reply at first, his attention instead riveted on the results generated by his computer model. “Oh, my,” he finally said, trying to absorb as much of the detailed report as he could at once.

“Oh, my, what?” Desai said, reminding him that he had an audience.

“I don’t rightly know,” he answered, ignoring the twinge of excitement he felt in his gut and the sensation of feeling his pulse increase. He even felt goose bumps rising along his arms. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

He stared at the whirling virtual representation of a DNA strand from Bohanon’s compromised cells—realizing as he did so that “strand” seemed a wholly insufficient term to describe what he was seeing. It was a genome, yes, but wondrously complex, encoded with far more raw biological data than he ever had seen in one place…more than he even imagined might be possible.

“Fish, talk to me.”

The physician let Desai’s plea hang unanswered, so intent was he on what he was seeing. The genetic structure dwarfed a typical human DNA strand and—according to the computer’s own messages, at least—appeared to baffle even the vast storehouse of knowledge available to him via Starfleet Medical. He entered a rapid-fire string of search requests, each one coming back unanswered or not understood by computer or the massive database with which it was communicating.

This is incredible.

Somewhere in the middle of that convoluted web of genetic code, Fisher imagined he saw the keys to uncounted medical and scientific advances, be they cures for disease, repairs to genetic defects, even enhancements to the human genome itself. There was no end to the speculation of what this might signify for the future of all known races in the universe.

Assuming somebody can figure the damn thing out.

“Doctor,” Desai said, more forcefully this time, “does this have anything to do with what happened on Erilon?”

Without looking up from his viewer, Fisher said, “I wish I could tell you.”

That the strange biochemical residue in Bohanon’s corpse was capable of crystallizing tissue was one thing, but to detect within that substance and the affected cells a genomic structure on the scale he was seeing—Fisher knew the implications were staggering.

And to think I could have retired before seeing something like this.

“Fish,” Desai said, her expression now one of concern, “what the hell is this about?”

Stroking his silvered goatee, the doctor replied, “Well, it looks like we’ll both have something to share with our friend the commodore.”

“Well, then, my timing is perfect.”

Reyes’s voice rang through the morgue, loudly enough that it startled Fisher and visibly shook Desai. The doctor looked up to see the station’s commander striding their way. “But here I am without an invitation to the party—again.”

Fisher crossed his arms, smiled wryly at Reyes. “And as usual, you don’t have a problem assuming that it wasn’t intentional.”

Desai quickly chimed in. “It’s not as much fun down here as you might think.”

“It never is,” said Reyes, letting the words hang in the air for several seconds before turning to Fisher. “Zeke, we need to talk.”

“Yes, we do,” the doctor replied, instinct telling him that the commodore’s timely arrival was more than simple coincidence.

“Is this about the Erilon incident?” Desai asked. “If so, then my team’s finished their preliminary report, and…”

“I’m sorry, Captain,” Reyes said, cutting her off. Fisher noted the almost apologetic look in his friend’s eyes as he regarded Desai. “But I’m afraid this is a security matter. Stop by my office in an hour, and I’ll take your report then. That’ll be all for now.”

Desai’s eyes went wide, and the doctor noted the tightening of her jaw, but she only nodded in response to the sudden turn of the situation. “Aye, sir,” she said, glancing toward Fisher before turning and making her way out of the morgue, leaving a grim-faced and even tired-looking Reyes standing before him.

“Something tells me this is going to be pretty interesting,” Fisher said.

25

“I’ve seen ships after they’ve suffered massive combat damage,” Commander Jon Cooper said as he stood next to Reyes on the observation platform overlooking docking bay four, “and I’ve seen them after they’ve had all but the stuffing beaten out of them by an ion storm. Hell, I was once on a recovery operation for a starship after it crashed into a moon.” For emphasis, he pointed through the transparasteel window that protected those inside the observation area from the vacuum currently engulfing the docking bay. “Commodore, not a one of them ever looked as bad as that heap of junk.”

Reyes said nothing to his executive officer, offering only a tired yet still amused smile as he and Cooper watched the U.S.S. Lovellcross the threshold of the massive space doors that separated the ravages of open space from the protective embrace of Vanguard’s docking bay. He felt a rumbling in the deck beneath his boots as the generators powering the space-dock’s tractor beams guided the Daedalus-class vessel into its parking slip.

Maintenance lights played across the battered and beaten hull of the aged vessel as it was maneuvered into position by the station’s navigational control systems. The harsh illumination served only to highlight the numerous flaws in the Lovell’s exterior. Reyes shook his head as he once again beheld pockmarked and dented hull plates—many of them only bare duranium, while others sported paint that contrasted with the ship’s overall gunmetal gray paint scheme. Visible weld lines joined a few of the plates, evidence of repair work conducted without the comfort and features of a well-equipped ship-maintenance facility.

Not that odd,Reyes reminded himself, considering the entire crew is composed of engineers.

Far from a pristine vessel and possessing absolutely nothing akin to the aesthetic beauty Reyes likened to more modern starships, the Lovellnevertheless was a testament to an engineering philosophy and quality of design that had proven its worth to Starfleet and the Federation for more than a century. Its spherical primary hull leading a stocky, cylindrical engineering section and ribbed warp nacelles certainly lacked the streamlined grace of a more modern Constitution-class ship, but Reyes also could see the resolve and tenacity of the era from which it had been born echoed in its rougher, coarser lines.

Among the first model of vessels produced in large numbers following the founding of the Federation more than a century earlier, Daedalus-class starships had proven their worth as instruments of both deep-space exploration and defense as the fledgling cooperative of united worlds made their first joint forays into the vast unknown reaches of the galaxy.

Easily constructed and maintained, the ships made up for their bland appearance and lack of creature comforts found on other vessels of the period with a rugged durability. Though the last of them had been removed from active Starfleet use near the end of the last century, a few Daedalusships had survived to enjoy extended life in the hands of civilian shipmasters.

Then, there was the Lovell.

Before his initial encounter with the ship and its crew of engineering specialists, Reyes had not even known that any Daedalus-class vessels were being used by Starfleet in any capacity. It therefore had come as somewhat of a surprise when the Lovellarrived at Vanguard months ago to assist in the final system installation and adjustments necessary to bring the station to full operational capability in accordance with its accelerated schedule. His amazement only deepened upon learning that the aged yet still reliable workhorse was one of three currently in service to Starfleet’s Corps of Engineers.

“For the love of all that’s good and holy in the universe,” Cooper said a moment later as the decrepit-looking ship slowed to a stop within the confines of its parking slip, “will someone please tell me what the hell is keeping that beast from exploding all over the docking bay?”

Standing behind the exec and Reyes, Lieutenant Isaiah Farber unleashed one of his trademark wide, toothy smiles as he replied, “Strategic placement of forcefields, Commander, along with thermoconcrete and what I assume is the kindness of at least three different benevolent deities.”

Turning from the window, Reyes regarded the brawny, imposing officer, whose layered muscles seemed perpetually ready to rip the seams of his red Starfleet uniform tunic. Though Reyes himself was no small man, even his broad-shouldered physique was no match for the two-time Starfleet weight-lifting champion. “Feeling a bit nostalgic, Lieutenant?” he asked with a slight grin.

Farber shrugged. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t, Commodore.” Lifting his chin as a means of indicating the direction of the Lovell,he said, “She may not be much to look at, but she’s got a heart of cast rodinium. She’s made it through some tough scrapes, and that’s just while she’s been a Corps of Engineers ship. Say what you will about her, but they don’t make ships like that anymore.”

“Thank God,” Cooper said, though he too was smiling, reassuring the lieutenant that he spoke in jest.

Formerly assigned to the Lovell,Farber had come to Vanguard during the ship’s first visit to the station, a few months earlier, when the vessel’s accomplished—if unpolished and unorthodox—complement of engineering specialists had assisted in finalizing the station’s readiness for full operation. So enamored was the lieutenant with the facility and its state-of-the-art technology, not to mention its mission of support for Federation expansion into the Taurus Reach, that he had applied for a transfer. Likewise impressed with the role Farber had played in solving the mystery behind the station’s difficulties, a concession of which was the tragic loss of the station’s previous chief engineer, Reyes and the Lovell’s captain, Daniel Okagawa, had agreed to the request, resulting in Farber’s eventual assignment as Vanguard’s senior engineering officer.

“If you’re really that heartsick, Mr. Farber,” Reyes said, “I can have you back aboard before her engines cool down.”

Chuckling, Farber shook his head. “That won’t be necessary, sir. I’m quite happy here on Vanguard.”

“Glad to hear it,” Reyes said. “Of course, if you’re going to change your mind, I’d suggest you not waste a lot of time doing it. The Lovellwon’t be here that long.”

Making an exaggerated and still joking show of rolling his eyes, Cooper added, “One can only hope.” To Reyes he said, “Any word from Starfleet on a permanent replacement for the Bombay,Commodore?”

Reyes shrugged. “The fleet’s spread pretty thin right now. Along with the new exploration push, there’ve also been reports of increased activity along the Klingon border. Starfleet Intelligence thinks they may be planning some kind of big offensive.”

Given the demands—both scientific and military—currently placed on Starfleet’s resources, the result was a shortage of vessels that met the specific needs of Vanguard and its mission. According to the last report Reyes had received, it would be a minimum of two months before another Miranda-class starship or something in the same capability range could be assigned permanently to the station.

“Of all the ships Starfleet could have sent us,” Cooper said, “they decided on a boatload of engineers.” The exec shook his head. “Far be it from me to question the wisdom of my superiors, but what the hell were they thinking?”

Reyes allowed the comment. After all, there was no way for the commander to know the real reasons for choosing the Lovellas a substitute vessel to support Vanguard. Considering the nature of the station’s true mission, security was of paramount importance. Even though the crews of the base’s other tenant vessels, the Endeavourand the Sagittarius,were oblivious of the mystery surrounding the Taurus Reach, they knew enough to be able to carry out their duties without the need to ask questions that—for the time being, at least—lacked answers. Such would have to be the case with any new vessel brought in to support the station. Starfleet had provided the commodore with a short list of ships that were available on an interim basis, none of which had impressed him in the slightest.

Faced with that dilemma, Reyes instead had opted to go another route.

“They kill two birds with one stone,” he said. “The Lovellhas adequate cargo storage space, even if it’s less than a Miranda,and its crew has tweaked and bribed its warp engines so much that it actually makes better speed than a ship half its age.” He said that last part while casting a respectful nod to Farber. “Add to that the fact that their engineers are already familiar with our systems. The lieutenant here will have more help than he can handle for a month or two. By the time they’re finished, this place’ll probably have its own warp drive. At the very least, the food slot in my office won’t give me any more trouble.”

Of course, Reyes’s true motivation for selecting the Lovellwas far simpler. While his assessment of the ship’s capabilities was accurate, there was also the matter of its crew’s awareness—albeit in an abstract sense—of the anomaly which had caused the station’s rash of malfunctions prior to becoming operational. The commodore would be able to assign the vessel to investigate anything related to that still-unexplained carrier wave with the comfort that the Lovell’s crew would have at least some of the necessary perspective to make their efforts worthwhile to the overall exploration of the Taurus Reach, all while presenting a minimum risk to operational security.

Now that things had become even more complicated with the loss of Zhao Sheng, Reyes needed another shipmaster that he could trust implicitly, particularly in light of some of the decisions he was about to make.

For the moment, that person—whether or not he wanted that responsibility—was Captain Daniel Okagawa.

I wonder what he’ll have to say about that?

“With all due respect, sir,” the Lovell’s captain said as he stood next to Reyes outside the Vault, which they had just exited, “what the hell am I doing here?”

Compared with the commodore, Okagawa was a small man. Still, he possessed a stocky, toned physique, the set of his shoulders and their proportion to his waist suggesting that the captain’s preferred method of exercise might be swimming or perhaps gymnastics. Though he was comparable in age to Reyes, his close-cropped black hair featured a liberal peppering of pale gray, which when coupled with the wrinkles around his eyes and across his forehead only served to enhance his air of dignity and grace.

Reyes offered the captain a tired smile. Not exactly what I was expecting, but close enough. He said nothing as the section of bulkhead slid back into place, concealing the innocuous pair of red doors and the room behind them and restoring the otherwise nondescript office—located in the depths of the station’s cargo decks—to an illusion of normalcy. Once more, the Vault and its reclusive denizens were tucked away, safe from any prying eyes.

“I’ll be honest with you, Dan,” Reyes said as he took a seat behind the empty gray desk that was the office’s most prominent piece of furniture. He gestured for Okagawa to take the room’s only other chair. “You weren’t my first choice. I know your crew isn’t suited for this kind of thing, but if I have to bring a vessel in here temporarily for some of the things I need done, I wanted someone who already has an idea of what the hell’s going on out here.”

After detailing Farber to get with the Lovell’s chief engineer and ensure that any supply or maintenance requisitions and wish lists were filled in order to have the ship ready for departure within seventy-two hours, and having Cooper coordinate with its first officer to handle any outstanding personnel issues regarding the vessel’s assignment to the station, Reyes was left only with the duty of briefing Okagawa about the role of his ship and crew with respect to Vanguard’s mission. While the captain had accepted the need for the range of duties for which the Lovellwould be responsible during its short-term tenure with the station, it was the additional, covert tasks with which the captain had understandably taken issue.

It had been easy for Reyes to connect the dots between the handful of planets scattered throughout the Taurus Reach where samples of the meta-genome as well as remnants of the peculiar alien architecture had been discovered. For his part, Okagawa had taken the revelations in stride. A Starfleet veteran for nearly as long as Reyes himself, the man had doubtless been witness to all manner of bizarre phenomena during the decades he had spent in space. Still, that did not prevent the captain from appreciating the scope of the situation.

“I can imagine your frustration, Commodore,” Okagawa said as he settled into the chair. “So many questions, so many uncertainties. I’m no geneticist, but even I can grasp the implications of what you’ve found here. Learning who or what’s responsible for the meta-genome might change our understanding of life and evolution at a fundamental level, and if this is the result of some kind of artificial genetic engineering, who knows what else those responsible were capable of.”

Reyes nodded, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “The Klingons are already prowling around the Taurus Reach, trying to figure out why the Federation finds this region so interesting. As unhappy as the Tholians are about us being here, they’re even more worked up over the Klingons. We’re a heartbeat away from interstellar war. The only question left unanswered is who the players will be.”

“How in the name of hell does Starfleet expect you to keep a lid on all of this?” Okagawa asked. “You’ve got a station full of people who think they’re supporting colonization and exploration initiatives. Starship crews are running back and forth across space, looking for clues and conducting research with no real idea about what they’re looking for. Only a handful of people even know the truth, and most of them are locked away in that dungeon you’ve constructed.” He indicated the Vault, the entrance to which was once again secreted behind its unexceptional bulkhead. “Speaking of which, that Dr. Gek and his gaggle don’t strike me as the kind of people who get out much.”

Despite himself, Reyes laughed at the captain’s observation. “So far as security goes, they’re the easiest ones to keep a handle on. I’d have to check access logs to be sure, but I don’t think they’ve come out of there since the station came online.”

“Well,” Okagawa said, “I suppose there’s plenty in there to keep them entertained.” His own expression faltered a bit, the small smile he had sported melting away. “What I don’t understand is why you told me this much if I’m here for only a short time. Surely you could have assigned me to missions that didn’t require me having all of this information.” He indicated the wall next to Reyes and the secrets hidden behind it with a wave of his hand. “Given the security surrounding this operation, I’d think Starfleet would have your head for revealing too much to those without a specific need to know.”

Reyes shrugged. “Maybe they will, but I don’t care.” While he agreed in principle with the idea of maintaining strict secrecy of Vanguard’s true purpose, the fact was that keeping that secret had already cost far too many lives for the commodore’s taste. Though he would continue to observe the security of the mission so far as he was able, he would never again allow that secret to stand in the way of safeguarding the people under his command.

That decision also had extended to including Ezekiel Fisher into the small cadre of people with whom he had entrusted this information. It was an unexpected turn of events, coming after the station’s computer had alerted T’Prynn and Reyes to the doctor’s research in relation to the autopsy he was performing on the Denobulan scientist brought back from Erilon. The discovery of meta-genome traces within the wound inflicted on the corpse had opened up an entire new arena of investigation, and while Fisher was not the ideal candidate to conduct that investigation, he was the most qualified person at Reyes’s disposal, to say nothing of the commodore’s utmost trust in his old friend.

Not that it’ll stop Starfleet Command from firing a photon torpedo up my ass.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Reyes continued, “I trust you’ll inform only those members of your crew who absolutely need to know the truth, and even then just enough to accomplish the tasks I’ll set for you while protecting your people. As for Starfleet”—he waved a hand as if dismissing any concern he might have over defying the strict orders he had been given upon first receiving his assignment as commander of the station—“leave them to me. That’s what commodores are for.”

Now it was Okagawa’s turn to offer a small chuckle. “Okay,” he said, “so what is it you want me to do?”

Leaning forward until he could rest his elbows on the top of the barren desk, Reyes replied, “You’re going back to Erilon. I want to know what attacked the outpost, and if or how it’s connected to what’s there.” For the sake of official Starfleet inquiries, he already had addressed the deaths of the Corps of Engineers team as well as Captain Zhao and members of the Endeavour’s crew—an action that had left a sour taste in his mouth that refused to dissipate—but of course that was not nearly enough.

Whatever the mysterious life-form was that had massacred the research team and the starship’s landing party, there was more than enough evidence to suggest that it was somehow connected to the artifacts and meta-genome fragments found on Erilon, Ravanar IV, and other planets in the Taurus Reach. The aspects of the devastating attack both on Erilon’s surface and against the Endeavourin orbit allowed for precious few other logical explanations.

Lieutenant Xiong had explained his theory with unbridled passion during the otherwise downbeat post-mission briefing. In addition, the A&A officer was certain that the full potential of Erilon as a piece of the massive Taurus Reach puzzle still was waiting to be realized. Reyes had seen the determination in the young officer’s eyes, the drive to prove his theory, not just because it was his mission but also as a means of making sure that the losses suffered to this point—the Bombay,the engineering team, as well as Captain Zhao and members of his crew—were not in vain.

Reyes was anxious to give Xiong that chance, as a means for the lieutenant to exorcise not only his own demons but perhaps those carried by the commodore as well.

“I want the research station on Erilon restored to full operation,” Reyes said after a moment. “The Endeavourwill be responsible for providing security. No holds barred this time. Your first mission will be to figure out what’s behind the planetary defense system and get control of it. I don’t want a repeat of what happened to the Endeavourbrought down on your fellow Corps engineers, but it goes deeper than that. If there’s more to this than a single planet, then we could be facing alien weapons technology that’s way out of our league.”

Okagawa nodded. “In other words, one more thing we have to keep from the Klingons and Tholians.”

Already feeling the first hints of a dull ache behind his eyes, he offered a tired smile. “Welcome to my world, Captain.”