Текст книги "Summon the Thunder"

Автор книги: Dayton Ward

Соавторы: Kevin Dilmore
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Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 30 страниц)

Xiong nodded as he considered the engineer’s off-the-cuff concept. Listening to it laid out in such straightforward terms lent all sorts of credence to his own theory about the meta-genome’s involvement in the use of the technology around them.

Everything we’ve been looking for could be right here, but where?

Feeling stuffy, he stood up in order to shrug out of his parka, and saw al-Khaled doing the same thing.

“Mahmud,” he asked, “have your people installed an enviro-control system down here?” He was unaware of any such task on the list of assignments that had been given to the Lovell’s team.

A frown creased al-Khaled’s olive complexion. “Not that I know of.”

Wiping his brow, Xiong was surprised to find a bead of perspiration wetting his fingertip. “It’s getting warmer in here.”

34

Throughout her time as a ship commander, Sarith always had regarded her quarters as a refuge, a place of solace from which she could—if only temporarily—escape the myriad burdens of leadership. The few precious hours she spent here when not on duty, be it sleeping or immersed in a treasured book or listening to favorite music, always had been vital to her well-being and peace of mind, in her opinion even more so than the exercise and diet regimen dictated to her by the Bloodied Talon’s physician.

Now, however, her sanctuary seemed more like a prison.

Without the faint yet omnipresent hum of the Talon’s warp engines channeling through the hull, it seemed to Sarith that much of the life had been removed not only from her quarters but also from the entire ship. A languid pall seemed draped over the room like a stifling blanket, even the air she breathed feeling heavy and stale in her lungs. Due to power conservation requirements enacted by the ship’s engineer, primary lighting throughout the ship had been reduced save for the most critical of uses. A single light source situated over her desk pierced the darkness of Sarith’s quarters, its feeble illumination managing only to chase the shadows to the corners of the room and offering the sensation that the bulkheads might be trying to close in on her when she was not looking.

Enough with that foolishness. You are not a child.

The reprimand seemed to echo within the confines of her sleep-deprived mind even as Sarith looked down at herself and allowed a small laugh to escape. For the first time she realized that she was sitting in her favorite overstuffed chair with her legs held close to her chest, her arms wrapped around her knees and pulling them tight to her. It was a pose she had adopted often as a young girl, sitting before the firepit in her family home and listening as her grandfather read aloud from a book of treasured stories, his nightly gift to his grandchildren before it was time to sleep. Sometimes the stories were frightening and young Sarith would be frightened, tuck her body into a ball in an attempt to ward off the monsters described in the pages of the storybook.

“If only it were that simple,” she said, though there was no one else in the room to hear her.

A gentle knock echoed on her door, a substitute for the intercom tone that sounded whenever one of her guards notified her of a visitor. Power consumption aboard ship had been reallocated to the point that even such small indulgences as a door chime were viewed as wasteful.

“Enter,” Sarith called out, loud enough to be heard in the corridor beyond her quarters. A few seconds passed as the centurion outside used a manual release lever to open the door, and she smiled as she beheld Ineti standing before the threshold.

“May I come in, Commander?” he asked, his wizened features warmed by an almost paternal smile.

Rising from her chair, Sarith motioned her second-in-command to enter. She waited for the guard to close the door before stepping forward and throwing her arms around her lifelong friend, ignoring the resulting pain in her side. Ineti said nothing, merely wrapping his own arms around her and allowing her the time to extract as much comfort from the gesture as she needed.

“My trusted friend…for as long as I can remember,” she said after a moment, patting his chest before pulling herself away and using her hands to smooth the wrinkles from her uniform. “You’ve always known how much I look to you for strength and guidance, and never have you considered it a weakness, just as you’ve never asked anything in return. If we are to die, I can think of no better way to do so than with you at my side.”

Ineti’s eyebrows rose. “You’ll forgive me, Commander, if I refuse to look ahead to that tragic event with any great enthusiasm.” Looking toward the ceiling of her quarters as if contemplating the stars that lay beyond the hull of the ship, he added, “We are not finished yet, Sarith. So long as we draw breath, we are not yet defeated.”

“Save that for the crew,” Sarith countered as she turned toward a small bureau positioned near her desk and retrieved a half-consumed bottle of ale along with two glasses. Motioning Ineti to be seated in the chair situated near her desk, she poured generous portions of the radiant blue liquid into the glasses before offering one to her companion. “What’s our current status?” she asked as she returned to her recliner, attempting to reassert herself at least somewhat into a command mind-set.

If Ineti was bothered by her dismissive comment, he chose not to indicate it. “The warp drive is a hopeless cause, of course. Even if the physical damage was repaired, the lack of an antimatter containment assembly renders the entire point moot.”

Sarith nodded in acknowledgment. Even if the engineer were able to manufacture a replacement, the original containment sphere had taken with it the Talon’s entire supply of antimatter. Without that vital ingredient, the ship’s warp engines were nothing more than vital organs which already had surrendered to a disease ravaging a dying body.

“We are operating on partial impulse power only,” Ineti continued. “Life-support is currently our most demanding power requirement, though other essential systems are being supported via battery backups, but without the warp engines to recharge them their usefulness will be exhausted in eighty-six dierha. The engineer is attempting to configure a means for replenishing the batteries from the impulse drive, but it is a risky procedure.”

“Compared to what?” Sarith asked, drinking liberally from her glass and savoring the warmth of the ale as she swallowed it. “Allow him whatever latitude he requires. We are far past playing it safe, I think.” If the Talonwas to survive long enough to be rescued, it would do so through effort and ingenuity—at the same high level now displayed by her crew.

Steadfast and loyal to the end,she mused as she took another sip from her glass. Perhaps they will survive long enough to see the Praetor recognize their fidelity.

She doubted that, of course.

Taking a moment to sip from his own drink, Ineti regarded the sparkling cobalt ale in his glass before continuing his report. “Our supplies are also an issue. A significant portion of our food stores has been contaminated by coolant leaks. I’ve already imposed a rationing schedule to extend our remaining provisions as long as possible.” He offered a small smile. “You did say you wanted to take your diet more seriously, did you not?”

Though she knew the situation did not warrant it, Sarith allowed herself a mild laugh at the gallows humor. She sobered almost immediately, though, as her mind turned to her next question, the most grave of those she needed to ask.

“What about casualties?”

Reclaiming his own typically staid composure, Ineti replied, “The physician has finalized his casualty report. There were four deaths in all. Two from engineering were killed by a collapsing bulkhead, one died in weapons control due to a coolant leak, and Centurion N’tovek, of course.”

Sarith nodded at the report. Power constraints being what they were, it was impractical to utilize stasis chambers to preserve the bodies, and jettisoning them carried the risk of detection. She therefore had given the order for the remains to be disintegrated with hand disruptors following an interval for the crew to pay their appropriate final respects to their comrades.

“Perhaps they were the fortunate ones,” she said as she sipped from her glass. “They at least will be spared whatever fate awaits the rest of us.”

Turning in his seat, Ineti regarded her with a hard expression that Sarith frankly found intimidating. “It is unlike you to embrace such a negative attitude, even in private.”

Sarith nodded, feeling more than a bit ashamed. “Forgive me,” she offered, hoping the words sounded more convincing to her friend than they did to her own ears. “Fatigue appears to have gripped my tongue, as well.”

“When was the last time you slept?” Ineti asked.

Grunting in what she knew was inappropriate amusement, Sarith replied, “Probably the same time you did.” Glancing toward her sleeping area, the commander felt a new weight press down upon her as she regarded her still-rumpled bed. She had attempted a few dierhaworth of rest earlier in the evening, but that had proven to be a futile exercise. N’tovek’s familiar musky scent lingered within the sheets, mute testimony to the final ardent night of lovemaking they had shared. Those memories, and the knowledge that she never again would enjoy his presence and passion, had chased away any chance at sleep.

She suspected that Ineti understood what troubled her, but as usual he reserved his comments only to what was necessary to convey his concerns. “You cannot afford the luxury of allowing yourself to wallow in remorse or even loneliness. All of that must be left behind, buried, incinerated…now.”

He leaned forward in his chair until his face was less than an arm’s length from her. “More than ever, the crew requires you to be their commander and see them through this crisis.” Pausing, he cast his eyes down toward the floor before adding, “No matter how it is to end. If you cannot do that, then we may as well destroy the ship now, for without your leadership we are surely doomed.”

Despite the gravity she sensed behind her friend’s words, Sarith could not help but smile. “I can always count on you to offer a straightforward perspective, Ineti.” Such unfiltered counsel was one of the many qualities she treasured in him, not only as her second-in-command but also as her confidant and even as a means of seeking her own moral focus.

“Very well,” she said, draining her ale before rising from her chair to refill her glass. “Let us talk about our next steps. First, I want to dispatch a status message to Romulus in three dierha. Can we afford the power to generate the necessary signal strength?”

Ineti nodded. “We can, but there are other issues to consider. Without warp drive, we are unable to travel an appreciable distance from our point of transmission. We therefore risk detection in the event our communications are intercepted.”

You should have remembered that,Sarith scolded herself. As part of the procedures designed to maintain the Talon’s stealth while traveling through the Taurus Reach, communications were limited to encrypted burst transmissions executed at irregular intervals. Protocol called for the messages to be sent while in the proximity of a star, using solar radiation as a means of masking the signal’s origin point. Afterward, Sarith would order a high-warp route away from that location, minimizing the risk of detection by other ships that might be within sensor range.

Her vessel’s compromised and weakened condition made following that procedure impossible, of course.

Knowing the risk, she nevertheless had ordered a short message dispatched soon after the Talonhad sustained its damage in order to alert Command to the ship’s dire situation. It was too soon to know if the message had been received, and Sarith knew that the likelihood of receiving a response was minimal at best. Bearing that in mind, she and Ineti already had decided that once the appropriate time had passed—assuming they were still alive, of course—she would simply inform the crew that a rescue operation was under way. It was one of the few ways she could hope to maintain her people’s flagging morale.

There was also duty to consider, of course.

“We have no choice,” she said as she returned to her seat. “The Praetor must be alerted to the possible danger posed by forces in this region of the galaxy.” There was no denying that her government must be made aware of the potential threat posed by whatever as-yet-unidentified race that wielded the power to obliterate Palgrenax. Only with warning and ample time to devise strategy could the security of the empire be protected.

“That said,” she added after a moment, “our first priority is preserving our stealth, no matter the cost. The Federation must not be allowed to learn that we have struck out beyond our borders, not before the Praetor is ready to announce our presence with the proper authority.”

Rising from his chair, Ineti nodded. “Worry not, Commander. If and when the time comes, the crew and I will follow you wherever duty demands we go.”

Sarith smiled, confident in her friend’s loyalty as well as that of her crew.

The only question lingering in her mind was whether she was worthy of that allegiance.

35

“I will tolerate no more of this!”

Pushing out of his chair, his eyes wide with storied Klingon ire, Lugok lunged across the conference table, hands grasping for whichever part of Ambassador Sesrene around which he could wrap his fingers. The Tholian dodged the attack, his legs moving with uncanny speed as he skittered to his left and toward Jetanien’s end of the table.

Fearful that any damage to Sesrene’s envirosuit might compromise the delicate balance of gases comprising the ambassador’s internal atmosphere, to say nothing of exposing him and Lugok to the same, Jetanien jumped to his feet and rushed to position himself between the enraged Lugok and his quarry.

So much for progress,he mused as he leveled a withering gaze at the Klingon ambassador. After nearly thirteen hours confined within the meeting chambers, Jetanien for the first time was beginning to fear that his hopes for facilitating peace among the parties vying for interest in the Taurus Reach might well have been premature after all.

On the other hand, he seemed to be well on his way to inciting an interstellar incident the likes of which might remain unmatched throughout the remainder of his life.

“And you,”Lugok snarled, raising a massive gloved fist toward Jetanien. “You’ve done nothing but talk for hours on end, but you’ve yet to say anything I’ve found of value.”

Well,he admitted to himself, circumlocutionis one of my stronger suits.

Growling, Lugok bared his teeth as he stepped closer. “Since our first meeting, you’ve said nothing of the Federation’s plans in this sector. Do you truly expect us to believe that your sole interest in this region is colonization?” Waving a dismissive hand in Jetanien’s face, the Klingon turned to return to his seat. “Nothing you have said here today has changed any of that. How are we supposed to trust you when you operate behind a veil of secrecy?”

“ This farce has gone on far too long already,”came the Tholian’s translated vocal oscillations. “ Release us.”

“Or…defend yourself,” Lugok added, his d’k tahgappearing in his hand as if materializing from thin air.

Jetanien forced himself to remain composed in the face of the ambassador’s threat, which was to say it was an effort to refrain from laughing.

“You do not want to threaten me, Your Excellency,” he said firmly, maintaining his bearing while attempting to strike an imposing enough figure to match Lugok’s bluster. Klingons responded more favorably to confidence and even outright arrogance than to placation. It would require a deft hand in order to move past this interruption and get the meeting back on track.

“Tell me, Ambassador,” he said after a moment, “before accepting the honorable mantle you now bear, I assume you spent some time in service with the Klingon Defense Force?”

His chest swelling with pride, Lugok nodded. “Of course I did, fool. I fought in many campaigns, including battling Starfleet at Donatu V. It was a glorious victory for the empire.”

“Indeed,” Jetanien said. Knowing that the battle between Federation and Klingon forces had been fought to a virtual standstill, he nevertheless was pleased to see that his rudimentary attempts to deflect Lugok’s anger already were beginning to have an effect. “And in your storied career, have you ever battled a member of my species?”

The ambassador regarded him as a hunter might study a potential quarry before offering a leering smile. “There’s always a first time.”

“I fear it would also be your last,” Jetanien replied. “When attacked, Rigelian Chelons have an autonomic defense mechanism which manifests itself as a deadly toxin secreted from our skin.”

Lowering his blade, if only slightly, Lugok scoffed. “Poison is a coward’s weapon.”

Jetanien nodded. “I’d never argue a point of honor with a Klingon, Ambassador, but there is little I can do to prevent it. Within hours of exposure, you would suffer a quite agonizing and inglorious demise, and then where would we be?”

“It is a ruse,” Lugok said, turning to face Sesrene. “The Chelon is nothing but bluster.”

“ Feel free to test your assertion, Ambassador,”the Tholian replied. “ I would await the outcome with interest.”

Growling in irritation, Lugok returned his blade to the sheath on his left hip. “I do not dance on the request of my enemies.” He turned his attention back to Jetanien. “Not that his suggestion is an unsound one.”

Jetanien raised his hands, open and away from his body to demonstrate to Lugok that he had no intention of initiating hostilities. “Friends,” he said, sensing that he may have found a clumsy yet effective way to navigate this latest obstacle, “we have not been asked to serve our respective peoples because we are the best at squabbling. We are the best at negotiating, and at agreeably reaching clear-minded concessions so we all can exist in harmony. We have an obligation to carry out our sworn duty. May we proceed?”

To his surprise, Lugok turned and moved back to his seat, though he did so only after offering a parting snarl. Sesrene likewise returned to his position at the table, uttering an indecipherable series of chirps and clicks.

Perhaps all hope is not lost after all,Jetanien mused as he also moved to his place at the head of the table.

“Shall we revisit the point yet again?” Lugok asked as he settled into his chair. “How much longer are we to argue over who has the right to assume control over unclaimedspace? The Tholians have staked no claims in the Gonmog Sector, and yet they block our every move to do so for ourselves.”

Sesrene clicked his appendages on the floor before responding. “ As I have already stated, our motivations are our own.”

“And as I have already demanded repeatedly,” Lugok countered, “explain yourselves!”

Jetanien rapped his webbed digits on the table. “One might argue that the Tholians are within their right to protect the indigenous races of this region from being exploited by unwanted and aggressive interlopers.”

“So,” the Klingon sneered, “the Federation supports this policy? Allow the Tholians to dirty their hands, or their…whatever they have, while you prop yourself up with your vaunted standard of non-interference.”

“ The Federation does not dictate our actions,”Sesrene said. “ My people have no intentions of establishing control over the territory in question.”

Jetanien schooled his features to offer no visible reaction to the Tholian’s comments. How curious he would admit that now, at the very time when it appears his people may have more at stake here thanany of us.

“Once more, you offer lies,” Lugok said, his eyes narrowing in renewed suspicion. “Your people have always asserted territorial control whenever and wherever it suits you. Why is the Gonmog Sector to be any different?”

Tapping one of his appendages on the table for emphasis, Sesrene replied, “ I offer truth and facts. Our presence in this region and our actions against your expansion efforts reflect only our desire to leave this space undisturbed.”

“And so you all but declare war on the Klingon Empire?” Lugok roared.

“Ambassador, please,” Jetanien pleaded, fearful that Lugok’s ever-present invective would only serve to send Sesrene back into his figurative shell, particularly now that it appeared the Tholian might be prepared to offer details about the odd actions his people had taken in recent weeks. Turning to Sesrene, he said, “Your Excellency, if you could elaborate, I think it would be most helpful for all of us. The Federation wants only to understand the Tholian people’s motivations so that we might better respect your concerns here.”

Sesrene did not answer at first, and Jetanien wondered if the ambassador might be once more communing with his envoys. “ I…cannot comply,”he said after a moment. “ This place is…”

There was another pause, and Jetanien thought that perhaps the conference room’s universal translator might be having trouble interpreting some heretofore unencountered aspect of Tholian speech.

When Sesrene spoke again, Jetanien was sure the translator was broken, with the ambassador’s vocalizations sounding more like metal grinding on metal. When a translation finally was offered, it provided the Chelon with more questions than answers.

“ This place is…Shedai.”

Frowning, Jetanien shook his head. “I’m afraid I do not understand, Your Excellency. This place is taboo? Quarantined? Forbidden?”

“ From long ago,”Sesrene said, “ our people have avoided this place. It is believed the unspeakable occurred here. Of all places, this is where we are not to be.”

Lugok released a hearty laugh, one Jetanien recognized as derisive. “Folk tales,” he said. “Stories to frighten the meek and mewling. These Tholians truly are cowards.”

Jetanien, however, found himself listening with intent to Sesrene’s words. Could this supposed fable have a foundation in ancient fact? Might the ambassador’s seemingly ingrained fear of this space possess roots to a danger so dreadful and frightening as to leave an impression lasting millennia?

What if they fear whatever it is we’re looking for? What if the very builders of the artifacts– the originators of the meta-genome– have struck millennia of terror in the Tholian people?All of this is connected. It simply has to be.

It has to be.

So focused was the ambassador on this new train of thought that the sound of the conference chamber’s doors unlocking and parting all but startled him out of his chair. All three diplomats jerked their heads in that direction to see Commodore Reyes entering the room with powerful strides and a grim expression darkening his human features.

“Commodore!” Jetanien blurted, caught off guard by the untimely interruption. “I ordered this room sealed. How did you get in here?”

Stopping at the opposite end of the table, Reyes replied, “It is mystation, Your Excellency.” He looked first to Lugok and then to Sesrene before speaking again. “I’m here to inform you that this summit and all further discussions between the three delegations are hereby terminated.”

“I beg your pardon,” Jetanien said. How can this be happening? Why now, when I might be so close to our first true breakthrough?

Reyes shook his head. “I’m sorry, Ambassador, but this comes directly from the Federation Council. We’ve just received word that earlier today, a Klingon task force attacked and destroyed the Tholian military outpost on Zenstala II.”

“Excellent,” Lugok said, his voice low and menacing.

“And the Tholians retaliated in like fashion against Klingon holdings at Dorala and Korinar.”

“ A suitable response to Klingon aggression,”Sesrene offered.

Already knowing what the impact of the new developments would be, Jetanien forced himself to remain impassive as he asked, “What does this mean, Commodore?”

His expression one of disappointment, Reyes replied, “Both the Tholian Assembly and the Klingon Empire have called for the withdrawal of all peace delegations, including those serving within the United Federation of Planets and specifically Starbase 47.” To Lugok and Sesrene, he said, “Further, any delay in having these directives carried out will be seen by your governments as interference by the Federation and acted upon ‘accordingly.’ Therefore, I’m declaring an end to these proceedings, effective immediately. My instructions are to have you off the station no later than 1200 hours local time tomorrow.”

“That’s outrageous,” Jetanien said, forcing himself to remain in his glengetand to keep his tone of voice level. “We have only just begun to make significant progress here.” He looked to Sesrene, hopeful that the revelations of the past few minutes might result in a show of support for his protest.

Instead, the Tholian ambassador stepped away from the conference table and headed toward the doors without so much as an acknowledgment of his diplomatic colleagues or even Reyes as he strode from the room.

“It is just as well,” Lugok said as he rose from his chair. “The Tholians are without honor. We will never agree, on anything. So far as the empire is concerned, they are nothing more than jeghpu’wI’. They simply do not know it yet.” Offering another contemptuous scowl to Jetanien, the Klingon marched from the chambers without another word.

As the doors slid shut behind the ambassador, Reyes turned to Jetanien. “I’m truly sorry, Your Excellency. It seems our friends aren’t yet ready to take such a bold step forward, after all.”

“I am not so sure, Commodore,” Jetanien replied. “There was some progress made here today, though not of a type I was expecting.” Reviewing what he had learned from Sesrene in the closing moments of the meeting, the Chelon decided that it was not yet the appropriate time to convey this new information to Reyes. There was no way to know at this point if what Sesrene had conveyed was fact or myth. Considering the stakes, this was no time to proceed with uncertainty.

“It’s going to be a hard road going forward,” Reyes said after a moment. “Starfleet Command thinks war between the Klingons and the Tholians could come at any time.” He shook his head. “And here we are, with ringside seats.”

“All the better to continue our mission, Commodore,” Jetanien said after a moment. “I refuse to surrender, not while an iota of hope remains. We will prevail.”

Afraid to make eye contact with his friend, the ambassador wondered if the commodore sensed the false optimism, for even as he spoke them, the words and the confidence they carried rang hollow in Jetanien’s ears.