Текст книги "Summon the Thunder"

Автор книги: Dayton Ward

Соавторы: Kevin Dilmore
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Текущая страница: 23 (всего у книги 30 страниц)

37

Sitting in the center seat on the bridge of the Endeavour, Atish Khatami once more was gripped by the nagging sensation that the chair and the responsibilities which came with it were too much for her to bear.

“Detecting seven power sources coming online, Captain,” Ensign Klisiewicz reported from the science station. “Same locations as before, including the one directly beneath the site where the landing party and research teams are working.”

Khatami noted the nervousness in the young man’s voice, certain that everyone around them shared his anxiety. The memories from the Endeavour’s last visit here—and what it had cost them—still were fresh, though her people of course were manning their posts and seeing to their assigned duties with the air of aplomb and professionalism Captain Zhao always had demanded. Still, she sensed none of the uncertainty or discomfort she knew had plagued members of the crew in the days following her promotion.

Maybe Leone’s cure for that particular malady is starting to spread.

Emboldened by that thought—as juvenile as it might seem—and despite the tension she knew permeated the bridge, Khatami felt herself sit up just a bit straighter in the command chair.

“Captain,” Klisiewicz called out, turning in his seat, “temperatures at those locations are rising, but they’re doing so faster than before.”

“What?” Mog said, looking up from the engineering station. “Faster?”

Klisiewicz nodded. “Yes, sir. The rate of increase is almost double what we experienced…the last time.”

“Somebody’s been busy while we were away,” Khatami said. Faster temperature increase meant that the lag between attacks from the planetary defense system they had faced during their last encounter would be cut almost in half, and said nothing about any increase in accuracy or power that the massive weapons may have received. “Red alert, all hands to battle stations,” she ordered before glancing over her shoulder to the officer seated at the communications station. “Ensign, get me Captain Okagawa on the Lovell.”

It took only a moment for the frequency to be set up, and the image on the main viewer shifted to display the anxious face of the other ship’s commanding officer, his face creased with worry lines as he sat on the somewhat smaller yet still vibrant bridge of his own vessel.

“ I take it you’ve picked up the power readings?”Okagawa asked by way of introduction.

Khatami nodded. “Yes. Their rate of increase is faster this time around. Captain, I don’t think your shields will be enough to protect you. We had enough trouble ourselves during our first run-in. I suggest you orbit out to maximum transporter range and wait.”

She could tell by the look on his face that Okagawa was not pleased with that notion, and could sympathize. Like her, he had people on the surface and had no desire to leave them unprotected. That worry had to be waging with his obligation to follow her instructions, as she was the on-site commander of the current operation.

“ Very well,”he said after a moment, his expression belying his apparent willingness to concede to her judgment. “ My people are continuing to study those power readings. Now that we’ve got some fresh information to work with, they might be able to tell us more about this supposed link between the different locations.”

“Keep on that, Daniel,” Khatami answered before offering what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “We’ll take care of the nasty stuff if necessary.”

A warning alarm from the science station made her turn her head in time to see Klisiewicz rising from his chair and moving to peer into the console’s hooded sensor viewer. “Captain,” he said without looking away from the viewer, “power readings are approaching pre-firing temperatures.”

“Reroute power from nonessential systems to the shields,” Khatami ordered. “Plot firing solutions on those locations and stand by photon torpedoes.”

The previous attack had come with such speed and fury that there had been time to do nothing save tuck tail and scamper for safety. That would not happen this time, Khatami vowed, not while she still had people in harm’s way down on the planet’s surface. She would leave no one behind, not now, not ever again.

“I think we’re in trouble.”

The temperature inside the control chamber was now almost on par with the standard environment aboard ship. Xiong had long since abandoned his parka and sweat ran down the sides of his face as he and al-Khaled worked. Holding a tricorder, the lieutenant adjusted the device’s settings while using it to scan their surroundings. “Power levels are increasing,” he reported after a moment. It had been a simple matter to detect the activation of the mysterious power source buried somewhere deep beneath their present location. Even though the tricorder had picked up power signatures activating at scattered points throughout the ancient structure, none of the consoles in this chamber had been affected by this new development, much to Xiong’s disappointment.

He turned at the sound of al-Khaled’s communicator beeping for attention, and he looked over as the engineer retrieved the device from his belt and with a flick of his wrist flipped the unit’s cover open. “Al-Khaled here.”

“ This is Commander zh’Rhun,”said the voice of the Lovell’s first officer, who at the moment was overseeing the reconstruction of the outpost’s main camp. “ Power readings from the other sites of those weapons emplacements are coming online, Lieutenant. I want your location evacuated and everyone transported up on the double.”

Al-Khaled already had informed the commander upon Xiong’s detection of the sudden activation of power sources deep beneath their own location. Zh’Rhun had allowed them to stay on site despite her misgivings over the new development, but Xiong knew that their grace period now had expired.

“We have to stay,” Xiong protested anyway, waving his arms to indicate the banks of dormant control consoles. “Our defensive measures are in place, and this could be our only chance to see this equipment in operation.”

Members of al-Khaled’s Corps of Engineers team were at this moment working less than thirty meters from where he stood, farther down the corridor that—like this chamber—had been carved with mathematical precision from the solid rock. In addition to the forcefield generators they already were in the process of deploying, the engineers also were setting up emitters for what they hoped would be a power generator capable of producing a dampening field to disrupt any communications signals detected between this location and other points across the planet. Sooner or later, Xiong surmised, they would have to test that equipment, and despite the fear gnawing at his gut as he remembered what happened here the last time he faced attack, he knew that now was as good a time as any.

“ I’m not ready to try those forcefields with live test subjects, Lieutenant,”zh’Rhun replied, her tone terse, “ and we have no way of knowing if the dampening field will have any effect at all.” Though he had met the Andorian officer for the first time only during the Lovell’s transit to Erilon from Vanguard, that initial encounter was enough to tell him that the commander was unaccustomed to having her orders questioned. “ Get to the surface and call for beam-out. I want everyone out of there right now.”

Xiong was tempted to argue the point but never got the chance as al-Khaled replied, “Understood, Commander. We’re leaving now. Al-Khaled out.” Closing the communicator and returning it to his belt, he regarded Xiong with a resigned expression. “You heard the boss, Ming. Let’s get our people.”

Whatever dissatisfaction Xiong harbored vanished, however, at the sound of his still-active tricorder emitting an alert tone. Holding up the device to inspect its miniaturized display, his eyes widened even as he felt his pulse quicken.

“I’ve got something new here,” he said. “Proximity sensors have detected three unidentified life-forms. They weren’t there a minute ago.”

“Transporter?” al-Khaled asked.

Xiong shook his head. “No transporter signature. One second nothing, the next there they are. Two are on the surface, heading for the base camp.”

The engineer frowned. “Where’s the third?” he asked, his right hand drifting to rest atop the Type-II phaser he wore on his hip.

“Fifty-seven meters below us,” Xiong replied, his jaw clamping in confusion at what the tricorder was telling him. “This doesn’t make any sense. According to these readings, that should be solid rock.”

“Or something designed to present the appearance of solid rock,” al-Khaled said, turning to run from the chamber into the corridor beyond. “Come on!”

Xiong followed after his companion as al-Khaled sprinted into the underground passageway to where two members of his engineering team, a Denobulan female and a human male, crouched near a piece of bulky equipment. Xiong recognized it as the main component for a portable forcefield emitter, one side panel of which lay open to expose its internal mechanisms. The Denobulan—an ensign named Ghrex, according to the nametag embossed over the right breast of her red utility jumpsuit—looked up at al-Khaled’s approach.

“Are the forcefields ready to go?” he called out.

Ghrex nodded. “We know,” she said as she returned her attention to her task. “We picked up the life-form.”

“We need thirty seconds,” added the other engineer, whose nametag identified him as Ensign O’Halloran.

As if in reply, the corridor around them rumbled as though gripped in a single intense, monotonous drone. The vibrations ran through everything—the walls, the equipment, even the tricorder Xiong still carried in his left hand.

“That can’t be good,” al-Khaled said.

Running footsteps echoed through the passageway behind them, and Xiong turned to see Lieutenant Jessica Diamond, the Lovell’s weapons officer, jogging toward them accompanied by two members of her security team, each of them carrying a phaser rifle. She was still wearing her open parka, and Xiong noted how the perspiration on her face matted to her forehead the bangs of her shoulder-length brown hair.

“Time to go, people,” Diamond called out as she approached them. Unlike her two subordinates’, her breathing seemed unaffected by her exertion, even though Xiong knew the trio had to have run the hundred or so meters from the entrance to the underground compound.

Studying his tricorder, Xiong once more felt his heart beginning to pound in his chest. “Too late for that, Lieutenant. I’m picking up a life-form—not one of our people—heading this way.”

Then the rumbling returned, and this time all of them in the corridor nearly were thrown off their feet. It continued for several seconds and, in a fit of panic, Xiong stared wild-eyed at the ceiling of the passageway, searching for signs that the stone tunnel might cave in on them.

“What the hell is that?” he cried, shouting to be heard above the din.

Khatami had only time to grip the armrests of her command chair.

The energy blast slammed into the Endeavour’s forward shields, overflow from the point of impact bleeding through the protective screens and lashing out against the hull of the ship itself. Khatami felt the force of the attack transferred through the innards of the starship, the deck shuddering beneath her feet even as the starship lurched to starboard, throwing her against her chair.

Overhead lighting flickered as alarms rang out across the bridge. All around her, people held on to anything that might provide support, be it the railing around the command well or their own workstations. Only Mog failed to anchor himself in time, his robust frame tumbling from his chair to the deck near the turbolift alcove. Even over the alert klaxons Khatami heard the engineer grunt in pain from the force of his fall.

“Mog!” she shouted as she swiveled her chair in his direction. “Are you all right?”

The Tellarite rolled to a sitting position even as Lieutenant Neelakanta wrestled the helm console to bring the Endeavourback under his control. “I’m fine,” he called out, pulling himself to his feet and stumbling back to the engineering station.

“Damage reports,” Khatami ordered, ignoring the dull ache in her side from where she had struck her chair.

“Shields at seventy-three percent and holding,” Mog replied after a moment. “All systems functional.”

Nodding at the report, Khatami swung her chair back to her right until she could see the science station. “Ensign, is the Lovellunder attack?”

Klisiewicz shook his head. “No, Captain. They seem to be out of range.”

“Let’s keep them out there,” Khatami replied. “Where are we with the weapons emplacements?” she asked even as she saw the younger man returning his attention to his sensor displays.

“Power stations are recharging,” Klisiewicz said a moment later. “Estimating next barrage in fifteen… mark!”

“Get us some maneuvering room, helm,” Khatami ordered. “Do we have targets plotted yet?”

Seated next to the Arcturian, Lieutenant McCormack turned from the navigator’s console and nodded. “We can launch strikes at three targets from our present position, Captain,” she said. “We’ll have to shift orbit to take runs at the others.”

One step at a time,Khatami reminded herself.

Her first attempt to order torpedo bombardment was interrupted as Klisiewicz announced another volley of incoming fire. Again the sequence was repeated, with the Endeavour’s shields bearing the brunt of the attack while the excess pushed past, reaching out to hammer against the ship’s comparatively weaker hull. Renewed alarms wailed across the bridge and the lights flickered again before dying out altogether, leaving the command center in momentary darkness before backup illumination activated.

“Localized overloads, Captain,” Mog called out from his station. “Engineering is rerouting main power to the bridge now. Shields at fifty-eight percent and holding, but we’re taking a beating. Another round might be too much for the generators.”

Ignoring the damage report, Khatami leaned forward in her chair. “Fire on designated targets,” she ordered. “Full spread.”

Once more the lighting wavered as the ship’s defensive systems drew power from wherever it could be found, and Khatami watched as six photon torpedoes—one after another and each encased in a writhing orange ball of unfettered energy—darted away from the ship and arced toward the planet’s surface.

“Picking up photon detonations, Captain,” Klisiewicz reported several seconds later while still peering into the viewer. “Two direct hits, the others missed.” After a moment, he shook his head. “All locations still registering power readings.”

Damn!

“Helm, bring us about,” she said. “Mog, route power from secondary systems to the shields.”

From the corner of her eye she saw the Tellarite turning in his seat. “Captain, the shield generators are already showing signs of strain. We might lose them altogether if we get hit again.”

“We get hit without the shields and we’re dead,” Khatami countered. “Let’s make sure that doesn’t happen.”

From over her right shoulder, the ensign at communications said, “Captain, we’re being hailed by the landing party. They’re picking up intruders on the surface and are requesting emergency beam-out.”

Before Khatami could reply, Klisiewicz cut her off. “Incoming!”

Even as she gave the order for evasive action, Khatami’s eyes were drawn to the image on the main viewer. Rising up from the frigid surface of Erilon, seven streaks of crackling yellow light converged on one another to form a larger, more intense ball of energy that continued to race outward from the atmosphere on a collision course with her ship.

“All hands!” she shouted. “Brace for impact!”

38

Lieutenant Jeanne La Sala was the first to see them coming.

“Activate the forcefields!” she shouted to her companion, Ensign Roderick, even as she dropped down behind the stack of crates containing supplied transported to the surface from the Endeavour. Other than shelters and other small buildings—all constructed from thermoconcrete—radiating outward in a haphazard formation from the center of the research outpost’s base camp, the groupings of cargo containers and other equipment scattered about the compound were the only protection available.

Seconds later and in response to her command La Sala heard the telltale hum of power generators activating from somewhere behind her. A low droning sound filled the air, and she directed her gaze toward the forcefield positioned ten meters to her left. Essentially a metallic shaft rising three meters out of the frozen earth, it was adorned with an indicator light positioned atop the pole. The bulb flared to life, a blazing crimson that seemed as out of place on this barren, lifeless plain as she or her companions. The emitter, like the twenty-nine other such devices deployed around the base camp’s perimeter, were now acting like a blanket for the outpost, protecting it not from the harsh elements of this inhospitable world but rather whatever demons it seemed to have spawned.

“Forcefield activated,” Roderick called out from where he was crouched behind another cargo container to her left. Holding up his tricorder for emphasis, he added, “All emitters functioning.”

Showtime,La Sala mused, pulling the hood of her parka up onto her head in an attempt to ward off the chilling effects of the breeze blowing across the open ground. An involuntary shudder ran down her body, a stark reminder not only of the harsh environment in which she found herself but also what had happened the last time she had found herself in such a situation.

Forcing the unwelcome thought to a dark corner of her mind, La Sala peered through the sights of her phaser rifle, focusing on the pair of dark figures approaching from across the snow-covered plain. They moved with phenomenal speed, kicking up a wake of snow and dirt that plumed into the frosty air behind them. Other than being able to tell that their upper extremities appeared to taper into sharpened points rather than anything resembling hands—it was difficult to make out any details from this distance—so far as La Sala could tell the newcomers were identical to the one they had previously encountered.

Watching their approach, La Sala recalled the mission briefing as delivered by Captain Khatami, who in turn had relayed Commodore Reyes’s instructions on attempting to communicate with the creatures. As a Starfleet officer, La Sala understood and valued the need to make such overtures. The Federation’s philosophy of peaceful expansion and the seeking of mutual friendship and cooperation with other species throughout the galaxy was worthless if it was not embodied by every single person, like her, who swore an oath to defend those lofty principles.

Did that apply to situations when the other party appeared incapable or unwilling to listen to such reason? Not so far as La Sala was concerned. If the creatures—be they intelligent beings or mindless animals—attacked again as they appeared to be preparing to do, she and her people had the right to defend themselves.

Assuming we survive,she mused, we can try talking afterward.

“Here they come,” she called into her communicator, which lay open near her left elbow and tuned to the frequency she had established for all members of the landing party working in the base camp. “Everyone hold their positions.”

If the looming apparitions noticed or cared about the forcefield now insulating the base camp, it was not indicated by their actions. As they approached, La Sala saw them split up, veering to her right and left even as they continued their advance toward the outpost. She kept her attention on the one which appeared to be coming in her general direction, tracking its movements through her phaser rifle sights. The distance between it and the forcefield shrank with every beat of her heart; it grew larger in her sights with every step, and still it defied all her efforts to make out any sort of identifying characteristic. It was nothing more than a featureless obsidian humanoid, moving with deadly grace over the snow-covered terrain.

Without slowing so much as a single step, it plunged headlong into the invisible barrier.

An unrestrained fury of energy charged the air as the creature made contact with the forcefield. La Sala winced at the piercing sound elicited by the miniature maelstrom, sensing the effects of the violently released discharge playing across her own exposed skin. She watched spasms and convulsions rack the thing’s body, yellow radiance reflecting off its dark, featureless hide with the same intensity that sunlight might be refracted through a prism and—for a moment, anyway—giving the creature an odd crystalline appearance. Then the effect was over as the creature stepped back from the forcefield. It stood motionless, less than fifty meters in front of her, appearing to stare straight ahead as though pondering its next action. Its elongated, pointed upper extremities hung still and useless at its sides.

La Sala could not shake the sensation that it was looking directly at—if not through– her.

“Good god!” Roderick exclaimed, his attention split between the sight before him and his tricorder. “The power drain on the field generators was enormous!”

As if to punctuate his report, another bout of unleashed chaos lit up the dull gray sky to their left, and La Sala turned to see that—in the distance—the other creature was attempting a similar assault at another point along the perimeter. The result was the same, with the thing moving away from the charged boundary only to stand, unmoving, mere paces from where its approach had been rebuffed.

“ Lieutenant La Sala,”said a composed voice filtering through her communicator, “ this is Ensign Sulok. We are detecting immense strain on the forcefield perimeter in response to the creature’s attacks.”

Recognizing the voice of the Vulcan engineer sent down from the Lovell,La Sala picked up her communicator even as she kept her attention focused on the motionless humanoid before her. “We’re seeing that, too, Ensign. You S.C.E. types have any ideas?”

“ Not at this time, Lieutenant. We are examining our options, but thought you should be aware of the potential for the barrier to be breached.”

La Sala opened her mouth to reply but the action was stifled as the creature lunged forward, impacting against the forcefield once more and eliciting the same vicious, cacophonous response.

They’re going to get in.

It was only a matter of time now.

“Get to the control room!”

Xiong heard Diamond’s order over the dissonant howl of unleashed energy as the thing—identical to the creature he had seen kill Captain Zhao—for the second time threw itself against the forcefield now blocking this section of the underground corridor. He could not be sure but he imagined he heard the nightmarish, featureless humanoid crying out in pain as it was subjected to the hellish discharge of energy feeding the protective barrier.

He saw Diamond motioning for her security detail and the other members of al-Khaled’s team to get moving even as she held her ground, her phaser rifle aimed at the creature which stood before the still-humming forcefield—as frozen as the earth from which it had come. Xiong’s eyes were drawn to the menacing lances at the ends of its arms, imagining them piercing the fragile bodies of Captain Zhao and Bohanon just as he had witnessed during the earlier attack. Dread gripped him, holding him frozen in its grasp while it waited for its servant to penetrate the barricade separating it from its prey.

“It won’t stop until it gets to us,” he said, feeling his fingers tighten around the handgrip of his phaser.

“We’re not finished yet,” al-Khaled replied from where he and Ensign Ghrex crouched next to a piece of ungainly equipment, both engineers wielding tools and scanners and working at a rapid pace.

“Can you get that thing running or not?” Diamond called out, backpedaling until she stood abreast of her shipmates.

“Almost there,” al-Khaled replied without looking up as he fused one end of a length of optical cable to what Xiong recognized as a power-distribution node—a very oldmodel of power-distribution node.

Xiong could not even be sure he understood how the engineers were proceeding with their admittedly outlandish scheme. After studying the power signatures recorded by the Endeavour’s sensors during the ship’s previous visit to Erilon, al-Khaled and his engineers had set about building a device to counteract the host of communications signals detected between various points around the planet.

Whereas he had expected to see some form of state-of-the-art technology resulting from that effort, a sterling example of twenty-third-century engineering prowess, what Xiong instead found himself looking upon appeared to be cobbled together from a host of surplus detritus scrounged from a salvage yard. Optical cabling and tools littered the ground at their feet as the engineers worked, seemingly oblivious of the scene unfolding around them.

We’re all going to die.

Xiong flinched at the flare of energy created by the creature choosing that moment to once more slam into the forcefield. Shadows fled from the corridor as multihued tendrils arced between the pair of emitters positioned on opposite sides of the passageway, playing across the humanoid’s opaque, austere form.

Then the light died and the omnipresent hum of the emitters faded, and the creature stepped forward.

The whine of weapons fire echoed across the open ground and La Sala felt the tingle of discharged phaser energy washing across her skin, but she ignored it. Her focus now was the haunting vision of hell that had just broken through the forcefield and that was at this instant moving toward her.

“Back! Everybody back!” she shouted before firing again. The beam struck the creature high near the right shoulder, its skin seeming to absorb the energy while leaving no trace of her attack. As it continued to advance, La Sala pushed the phaser rifle’s intensity setting forward as far as it would go, adjusting the weapon’s power level to maximum. She fired once more, the rifle’s high-pitched howl playing across her ears and causing her to wince from the discomfort.

Though the creature staggered in the face of the barrage, it did not stop.

“Dammit!” she shouted in frustration as the creature moved in lurching steps to its left, angling toward where Roderick huddled behind the cargo container and trained his own weapon on the approaching intruder. “Roderick! Get out of there!”

The ensign rose from his crouch and began to retreat, continuing to fire at the oncoming attacker. He tripped on a coil of cable lying near one of the other cargo containers, stumbling backward but maintaining his balance. Still, it was enough to make him lower his weapon in an attempt to keep from falling to the ground.

“Look out!” La Sala cried, continuing to fire her ineffective weapon after the horrific attacker in their midst.

It was all the opportunity the creature needed. Falling forward more than lunging, the thing lashed out with one of its immense arms, skewering Roderick through the chest. The ensign’s eyes went wide with terror and surprise, his body going limp within seconds as life drained out of his body from the massive wound inflicted upon him. Withdrawing its blood-slickened arm from Roderick’s chest, the creature did not wait for the now dead man even to fall to the frozen ground before turning in search of its next target.

Trembling from the raw horror of what she had witnessed, La Sala was already moving, scrambling around the side of the cargo container in search of even momentary concealment. “This is La Sala! I need help here!” she shouted into her communicator, knowing even as she made the plea that others around the camp would never reach her in time. The creature seemed to be regaining its earlier flagging strength, picking up its pace as it trudged through the snow toward her.

“Son of a bitch,” she hissed, laying her phaser rifle atop the cargo crate and centering the intruder in her sights. At the rate she had been firing the weapon, experience told her that its power cell was almost exhausted. This stand, however pitiful it might be, would be her last.

Less than twenty meters from her, the creature lurched to an abrupt stop, its joints appearing to lock up in midstride even as momentum carried it forward until it tumbled face first into the snow. No sooner did it strike the ground than its body collapsed, slumping to the earth and remaining still.

Rising from her meager place of protection, La Sala regarded the now immobile creature lying on the ground. “What the hell just happened?” she asked, though no one was around to offer an answer.

Xiong could only watch in rapt fascination as the creature jerked to a stop, its entire body shuddering as if being subjected to an intense electrical shock. It staggered backward several steps, convulsing as though gripped by extreme pain, though of course it uttered no audible sounds.

“It’s working!” al-Khaled shouted from where he and Ensign Ghrex still knelt next to the dampening field generator. Xiong looked to see that the unit’s array of status indicators were glowing a steady hue of pulsating colors, accompanied by a vibrant hum denoting the power it was channeling.

Diamond dropped her drained phaser rifle to the ground, reaching inside her parka to extract the type-2 phaser from her belt and aiming the smaller weapon at the creature. The thing appeared not to care; its spasms now had ceased. It stood motionless for several seconds, during which Xiong wondered why neither Diamond nor anyone else in the corridor—including him—seemed to possess the presence of mind to open fire.

“We have to kill it,” Diamond whispered, aiming her phaser to fire once more.

Then, the creature turned and ran back up the corridor from whence it came.

Xiong exchanged looks with Diamond, figuring that the dumbfounded expression on her face must mirror his own.