Текст книги "Open Secrets "

Автор книги: Dayton Ward

Соавторы: Kevin Dilmore
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Текущая страница: 17 (всего у книги 32 страниц)

32

“You know,” Reyes said, keeping his voice low as he looked about the courtroom, “I don’t think I’ve ever been in here before.”

Sitting to his right, attired, as he was, in dress uniform, Desai leaned close enough to speak almost directly into his ear. “You could’ve just taken a tour like everyone else. Now, would you please focus?”

Reyes offered a mild grunt, leaning back in his chair. He and Desai were at one of two tables positioned before the raised bench that dominated the front of the courtroom. Just below the bench were a single straight-backed chair and a small shelf with a computer interface, which Reyes knew would be used to record the proceedings and provide as needed a means of retrieving information relevant to the trial from the station’s library computer system. The four seats arrayed before him were empty, but in moments, their assigned occupants would enter the chamber and begin the process of deciding how Reyes was to spend the next several years of his life.

Without turning his head, Reyes looked to his right and out of the corner of his eye saw past Desai to the other table before the bench. Seated alone was Captain Sereb, also wearing a dress uniform. The Tellarite appeared to be concentrating on the data slate he had produced from his ever-present briefcase. Sereb had made no further attempts to talk to Desai or to Reyes himself after their aborted meeting in Reyes’s quarters three weeks earlier. Since then, according to Desai, at least, the attorney had been content to remain in his office, preparing and refining his prosecution strategy. Desai had carried on in similar fashion, interrupting her own work for meetings with Reyes as she polished the avenues of defense she would pursue.

Here’s hoping all that work was worth it.

Behind the tables reserved for counsel were rows of chairs for observers, all of which were unoccupied. Despite the fact that Tim Pennington’s explosive story for FNS had laid open several of Operation Vanguard’s closely held secrets, there still were many facets of Starbase 47’s true mission in the Taurus Reach that remained classified. For that reason, Admiral Moratino had ordered the court-martial to be carried out behind closed doors. Reyes had no problem with that, as he had no desire to be on display before his crew and any gallery of curious onlookers the trial might attract.

“Here we go,” Desai said after a moment, returning Reyes’s attention to the front of the room as a Starfleet lieutenant—a Vulcan female he did not recognize—entered the courtroom from a door to the left of the bench. Her back was ramrod straight as she marched across the room to the computer terminal and activated it. The rows of multicolored lights on the unit’s face began to flash in rhythmic patterns.

“Computer,” the Vulcan said, “commence recording.”

“Working,”an emotionless female voice replied from the terminal. “Recording activated.”

Turning her attention to the rest of the room, which, of course, consisted only of Reyes, Desai, and Sereb, the lieutenant said nothing for a moment, waiting until Reyes heard the sound of another door opening behind the Vulcan. This one granted access to the bench itself, and Reyes felt a twinge in his gut as Admiral Gillian Moratino and a trio of male officers filed into the room.

“All rise,” the Vulcan said, her voice neutral yet firm. Behind her, the officers moved to stand before the bench’s four seats. All were human, all ranked commodore or higher. The board’s other three members were men, none of whom Reyes recognized. One of the two admirals was an older man, with stark white hair and pale, wrinkled features, while the other was much younger and of Latino heritage. The panel’s lone commodore was a weathered Asian man, who peered at Reyes over a pair of anachronistic rimless eyeglasses.

“All persons having business with this general court-martial,” the lieutenant continued, “stand forward, and you shall be heard. The Honorable Gillian Kei Moratino presiding.”

Despite the weeks of confinement, along with the long days and nights spent in conference with Desai, the idea of facing an actual court-martial had seemed somehow surreal to Reyes. Only now, as Admiral Moratino reached for the wooden striker resting on the bench and used it to tap the ancient ship’s bell before her, did it finally hit home that this was really going to happen. He was about to be tried by a board of his peers and, if found guilty of the charges against him, likely be sentenced to prison for a considerable portion of whatever life remained to him.

Too late to cry about it now.

“This court is now in session,” Moratino said, directing her gaze to Desai and Sereb. “Commodore Reyes has provided an official statement, which has been read to the board members and entered into the official record. Does counsel wish to raise any objection?”

“No objection, your honor,” Sereb replied. Desai shook her head, repeating the Tellarite’s answer.

Moratino next turned to Reyes. “Commodore Reyes, the board for your trial currently consists of Admiral Franklin Komack, Commodore Jeong Hynu-Su, and Admiral Alejandro Perez. Do you object to the selection of any of these officers serving in this capacity?”

“No, Admiral,” Reyes said, staring straight ahead. Of the four officers making up his court-martial board, only Admiral Komack possessed any knowledge of Operation Vanguard prior to his selection for this trial. The admiral was not in the project’s chain of command and was therefore deemed capable of remaining impartial in this matter.

Nodding, Moratino asked, “Do you have any objections to Captain Sereb serving as prosecuting attorney or to myself as president of this court?”

“None, Your Honor.”

Hell of a time to ask.

“Very well,” Moratino said. Looking down to the young Vulcan, she prompted, “Lieutenant T’Nir.”

Standing as she had since first taking up her station by the computer interface, her face impassive as she looked toward the rear of the courtroom, T’Nir said, “Charge: willful disobedience of a superior officer. Specification: in that on stardate 1528.4, Commodore Diego Reyes did defy standing orders by revealing classified information to unauthorized personnel. Charge: releasing classified Starfleet intelligence data to unauthorized personnel. Specification: in that Commodore Reyes did allow a member of the press to distribute to the Federation News Service restricted information vital to the interests of Federation security, with that information being published via public news outlets. Charge: conspiracy in the second degree. Specification: in that Commodore Reyes, through purposeful action or lack of action and with knowledge aforethought, did allow unauthorized persons to disseminate classified information.”

Reyes stood silent as the charges were entered into the trial’s official record, each word cutting into him with the unforgiving torment of a dulled blade. Everything he had once upheld as right and proper, every oath he had ever sworn, seemed to fall to dust in the face of the blunt, cold offenses of which he now was accused.

“Commodore Reyes has entered a plea of guilty to the charge of willful disobedience,” Moratino said after the charges were entered, “and not guilty to the remaining charges. Does the commodore wish to change his plea?”

He saw out of the corner of his eye that Desai was looking to him, but Reyes did not turn his attention from the bench. “No, Your Honor.”

The admiral nodded. “Very well. The plea of guilty for the charge of willful disobedience is so entered and accepted. You may all be seated.” Once everyone had taken a seat, Moratino looked to Sereb. “Captain, is the prosecution prepared to make its opening statement?”

Sereb once again rose to his feet. “I am, Your Honor.” The Tellarite moved toward the witness stand, a lone chair on a small dais at the center of the courtroom.

“Members of the court, the facts of this case are straightforward. Commodore Reyes ignored his obligation to superior officers in his chain of command, defying their lawful orders and instead taking matters of Federation security into his own hands.” His attention focused on the bench, he began to walk a circuit around the stand, gesturing with his pudgy arms as he talked. “He did so without regard for the larger, sweeping ramifications, not only to the Federation itself but also to our allies and even our enemies. By allowing the disclosure of classified information about ongoing Starfleet operations and interests in the Taurus Reach, Commodore Reyes may well have triggered an upset in the balance of power, the consequences of which likely will be felt for years to come. His actions reflect immense discredit not only upon himself but also upon all of Starfleet and, indeed, the United Federation of Planets.”

He had tried to prepare himself for the impact Sereb’s opening remarks would have on him, but Reyes still felt his anger rise as he listened to the lawyer’s cold, stark assessment about what he had allowed to happen.

I didn’tallow it to happen,he reminded himself. I made it happen. Iwanted it to happen.He felt the unbridled need to scream the words. It was necessary. It was right.

Perhaps it was, perhaps not. Would any of that matter, or would the truth—not about what he had done but whyhe had done it—be just another obstacle for Captain Sereb as the attorney pushed the court-martial toward a conviction?

Glancing toward Desai, who, like the board members, appeared to be hanging on the Tellarite’s every word, Reyes could not help the pang of doubt that began without warning to gnaw at him.

Rana’s got her work cut out for her.

33

The ancient computer interface crackled to life, filling the subterranean chamber with the echo of a moderate hum beginning to radiate from somewhere within the millennia-old equipment.

“I’ll be damned,” said Lieutenant Commander Mahmud al-Khaled as he stood next to Ming Xiong, observing the proceedings. Beneath his feet, the leader of the U.S.S. Lovell’s Starfleet Corps of Engineers detachment could feel a low vibration coursing through the cavern’s stone floor. Somewhere, underneath however many meters of solid rock, something was happening as a result of their efforts in this room. “Any idea what it’s doing?”

His head poking out from the neck of his Starfleet-issue field parka, Xiong did not look up as he studied his tricorder. “Whatever it is, it’s very localized. I’m only detecting power readings within a sphere of less than one hundred meters.”

“That’s barely enough to account for this complex,” al-Khaled said, watching the steam from his breath as he spoke. “At least the parts we know about, anyway. Still, it’s a start.” Despite the warmth generated by the portable heaters they had brought from the Lovell,the cavern maintained a bone-chilling cold.

Standing at the console, Nezrene appeared to be leaning against it for support, but al-Khaled had quickly realized that the Tholian was, in fact, adopting a posture that allowed her greater access to several contact points embedded within the console’s onyx crystal surface. Those points were all but invisible to the naked eye, but Xiong had learned how to identify them with Nezrene’s assistance. Beneath the Tholian’s appendages, numerous controls and displays—all obviously designed for physiologies quite different from that of humans—now were visible, emanating from within the console itself. Along the wall before Nezrene, other displays were active, also ensconced within another slab of the enigmatic opaque crystal. Unlike the tactile interfaces to which al-Khaled was accustomed and which he, in fact, preferred, nothing like that existed here. Everything was contained inside the dark panels, which, for the most part, resisted scanning attempts and foiled any efforts to create technical schematics of the equipment’s interior components.

“Nezrene,” Xiong said, stepping closer, “are you feeling anything? Sensing any kind of reaction?”

The Tholian replied, “I am aware of increased power generation. Our access attempts have apparently resulted in the execution of some form of standard activation protocol. I am detecting what I perceive to be limited instructions being conveyed from this interface to other nodes, all of which are engaging in their own initiation procedures.”

“Start-up diagnostics?” al-Khaled asked. “That would make sense, especially since most of this equipment hasn’t been in operation for thousands of years.” He paused, then added, “Well, except for what happened the last time we were here.”

“Don’t remind me,” Xiong said. “It took me days to stop shaking, and it wasn’t because of the cold.”

Al-Khaled nodded, recalling vividly the events of the Lovell’s last visit to Erilon. Working with Xiong, the ship’s engineering cadre had spent several days on the surface of this icebound world, the majority of that time within this same set of caverns. When the mysterious Shedai entity had arrived, seemingly from nowhere, and commenced attacking the landing party, only some last-minute, panic-stricken ingenuity on the part of al-Khaled and other Lovellengineers had saved the entire Starfleet contingent from being annihilated.

A beep sounded from one of the pockets in his own parka, and al-Khaled removed the glove on his right hand in order to retrieve his communicator. Flipping open the unit’s antenna grid, he said, “Al-Khaled here.”

“How’s the weather down there?”asked the voice of the Lovell’s commanding officer, Captain Daniel Okagawa.

“Balmy,” al-Khaled replied. “We’re thinking of going out for a picnic later this afternoon, once the temperature makes it to within ten points of a positive number.”

The sound of Okagawa chuckling was hollow and indistinct when channeled through the communicator’s speaker grille. “Well, according to the readings we’re getting up here, you might just be able to do that. There’s been some kind of power-generation equipment come online in just the last few minutes, fifty-nine meters below your present location.”

Exchanging surprised expressions with Xiong, al-Khaled said, “Really? What are we talking about?”

“Nothing too crazy,”Okagawa replied. “We’ve been able to confirm that it’s not the same system we detected the last time we were here. Whatever it is, it doesn’t appear connected to the global defense system, or whatever it was that almost blew up the planet. So, thanks for not doing that.”

“It’s early yet. Give us time.”

Al-Khaled paused as Xiong stepped closer and gestured toward the communicator. After holding it up for his friend, the lieutenant asked, “Captain, are you able to determine what the active systems are? We’re not getting anything that detailed down here.”

“At first blush, it looks as if it might be a computer or communications system. Maybe both. We’re picking up what we think are attempts by individual computer nodes to connect to a central hub and to each other, including the equipment at your location.”

Now Xiong looked pleased. “If that’s true, then it’s the biggest breakthrough we’ve had yet. Learning how to interface with such a system may well be the key to getting control of everything on the planet. After that, we may eventually learn to interface with companion systems on other worlds.”

“That is unlikely,” Nezrene said, calling out from where she still stood at the Shedai console. “Without the guidance and control from the First World, there are no Conduits, no pathways to link the worlds that once made up the Shedai realm.”

“First World?”Okagawa repeated. “Does she mean Jinoteur IV?”

Xiong nodded. “That’s correct, sir. Jinoteur is the key. Or, rather, was the key. With the system gone, we have no way of knowing whether the network that once connected their planets can be reestablished, or if there might be another planet somewhere in the Taurus Reach capable of providing the same function and control.”

“One step at a time,” al-Khaled said, holding up his free hand. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We can’t do anything until we prove we even have real access to anything on this rock. Nezrene, are you able to confirm what the Lovellsensors are picking up? What is it you think you’re tapping into?”

“I believe your captain is right,” the Tholian replied after a moment spent in silent communion with the console. “I am seeing communications pathways, both for connecting to other locations on this planet and for broadcasting into space. Some of it is easy to understand, though there are other aspects of the system that I am unable to transcribe.”

“Can you access any of those pathways?” Xiong asked, and when he spoke, al-Khaled heard the excitement in the younger man’s voice.

Nezrene nodded, or at least affected the Tholian equivalent. “I believe so.” Her left appendage moved to rest on another area of the console, and her movements became still for a moment, during which several displays on the crystal wall before her flared to life. Strings of incomprehensible script scrolled past, almost too fast for al-Khaled’s eyes to follow. Then Nezrene said, “I believe I have found one such pathway.”

An instant later, Okagawa’s voice came over al-Khaled’s communicator. “We’re picking up a new signal, Mahmud. From up here, it looks as though the computer node at your location is trying to connect to other nodes in the planetary network. So far, we’re not seeing that it’s having any success.”

“It could be something as simple as not employing the correct communications protocol,” al-Khaled offered. “Nezrene, are you able to see anything? Where are you—in the system, I mean?”

It took an extra moment before the Tholian replied, “I must admit, this is fascinating. If I concentrate and focus my thoughts on the tasks, I can see them being carried out within the network. It is as though I am traveling the pathways myself, moving from one point to another in the system.”

“Just as you suspected, Ming,” al-Khaled said, smiling. “This could be it; we may have finally found our way in.”

Though appearing satisfied at their progress, Xiong still seemed skeptical. “It took us four days to make it this far.” He frowned, shaking his head. “We need more time.”

“You’ve got three more days,”Okagawa said over the communicator. “After that, my orders are to pack up this field trip and get you back to Vanguard. We’re here on borrowed time as it is.”

Al-Khaled nodded in agreement. That Admiral Nogura had—over the strenuous objections of Ambassador Jetanien—authorized Nezrene to travel with the Lovellto Erilon was but one complication to this mission. If the Tholian Assembly learned that its compatriot had fled the station that had provided him sanctuary, it might feel compelled to extradite her, possibly by force. For that reason, Nezrene’s presence on the Lovelland her departure from Starbase 47 had been kept tightly guarded secrets.

There also was the Lovellitself to consider. With the Endeavourout on security patrol and the Sagittariustoo small for Nogura to consider for a mission of this type, it had fallen to the all-but-ancient Daedalus-class vessel to transport Xiong, his team, and his equipment to Erilon. Despite the array of improvements and upgrades to which it had been subjected, the Lovellwas nothing close to a ship of the line. It would stand no realistic chance against enemy attack. Still, in Nogura’s mind, the gains for carrying out Xiong’s research had outweighed the risks. The admiral had therefore approved a brief expedition back to the frozen planet, which had been chosen for its proximity to the station as well as the fact that Xiong, al-Khaled, and their teams were familiar with the layout of this Shedai structure.

“We’ll make the most of the time we have left,” Xiong said, “but we’re just scratching the surface here. Even if we can gain further access, we still don’t know the language of the computer software, assuming that the Shedai developed their technology along the concepts of hardware and software. It could take us months to decipher any meaningful portion of it.”

“You can do that back on Vanguard,”Okagawa countered. “Make recordings of everything, and if there’s something we can haul back with us, tell Mahmud, and they’ll start disassembling the place.”

“Understood, Captain,” al-Khaled said, cutting off any further protest from Xiong. “Al-Khaled out.” He pocketed the communicator and patted Xiong on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve done some good work here, and we’ve still got a few days, so let’s make them count. After all, we don’t know when we might make it back here.”

Xiong nodded, and al-Khaled saw the concern in his friend’s eyes. “Yeah. That’s what worries me. That, and wondering if the Klingons will figure this out before we do.”