Текст книги "Open Secrets "

Автор книги: Dayton Ward

Соавторы: Kevin Dilmore
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Текущая страница: 31 (всего у книги 32 страниц)

59

Jetanien looked up to see Akeylah Karumé standing in his doorway. Rather than one of her usual ensembles, his aide was dressed in what the ambassador recognized as athletic attire. She wore no cosmetics, and her hair had been pulled into a ponytail. The expression on her face was one of undisguised irritation.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” she asked.

“Even without the chronometer positioned so conveniently on my desk,” Jetanien replied, “I am well aware of the time.” It was, it seemed, his night for rousing people out of sleep for what he believed to be pressing matters. Diplomacy, he long ago had learned, did not keep regular schedules. “I apologize for calling you at this late hour, but this could not wait. I think, however, that you’ll find it worth the inconvenience.”

Karumé appeared unconvinced. “Does it involve you dying of some incurable, debilitating disease from which you will suffer great pain before your ultimate, undignified demise while lying in an expanding pool of your own body waste?”

“Another time, perhaps,” Jetanien countered, adjusting his posture while sitting on his chair. He pointed to his computer terminal. “I received a rather interesting communiqué this evening.” He let the sentence hang in the air for a moment, until Karumé’s eyes widened in comprehension.

“The Romulan?”

Jetanien nodded. “Senator D’tran himself, if he’s to be believed. Apparently, death has not yet caught up to him.” Without any real information to consult, Jetanien could only guess that the senator had to be approaching the upper limits of advanced age even for Romulans, and even that was assuming that their physiology remained similar to their distant genetic relatives, the Vulcans.

Moving into the office, Karumé made her way around Jetanien’s desk in order to see the terminal. “Assuming that it’s not some kind of ruse, this is incredible, Ambassador.”

“Indeed,” Jetanien replied. “The message arrived in an encrypted form, and I spent several hours combing through Selina’s notes to find the cipher.” He had finally found the decryption key buried in the pages in one of his mentor’s numerous handwritten journals. The entry was innocuous, deliberately designed not to stand out from the rest of the book’s contents. Jetanien had nearly passed it while leafing through the pages. “There are no photographs or other visual references to D’tran in any of Selina’s files, so for now, I have no means of authenticating his identity.” It made sense, of course, as Rosen and her fellow diplomats had carried out their negotiations with their Romulan counterparts over subspace radio. Peace between the two powers had begun the same way the war preceding it had ended, with no human or ally ever seeing a Romulan in the flesh. D’tran and Rosen would continue their covert communications for years afterward in similar fashion, never meeting in person.

Leaning closer, Karumé nodded to the terminal. “Well? Let’s see it.”

Unable to resist the temptation, Jetanien emitted a small laugh. “It would seem that you’re awake now.” On the computer terminal’s interface, he tapped a command to replay the message he already had viewed three times. The display shifted from a graphic of the UFP seal to the image of an aged Romulan. Thick gray hair framed a gaunt, angular face, the most distinctive features of which were the stark, penetrating blue eyes peering out from beneath a pronounced brow. Though time may have ravaged the body, all indications were that the mind within remained vibrant.

“Greetings, Ambassador Jetanien,”began the recorded message. “I am D’tran. It seems you have benefited from the rather voluminous record-keeping habits of our mutual friend. I must admit to being more than a bit surprised to receive your communication, given the length of time since my last correspondence with Selina. However, I hope you will accept my sympathies for her passing. It is one of my life’s regrets that I never was able to meet her in person.

“As you know, Selina and I were in agreement that while the peace accord negotiated between our two peoples was necessary, its terms were lacking with respect to long-term consequences as far as our mutual future was concerned. Despite the propaganda fed to our citizens, there are many within the Romulan Empire, including more than a few within our government, who believe that a lasting peace with the Federation is possible, even desirable. We also accept that many within the Federation must feel the same way.”

“Well,” Karumé said as D’tran paused, “he certainly talkslike a politician.”

Leaning forward, the elderly senator continued, “Of course, there are those among our people who would welcome another war, perhaps as a misguided opportunity to atone for what they believe were unreasonable concessions forced upon us when the peace treaty was enacted. However, I am not alone in the Senate when I say that this is not a path we wish to follow. A few of my more ambitious colleagues even harbor fanciful notions of negotiating some form of accord with the Klingons.”A small smile graced his weathered features. “The wide-eyed optimism of youth never ceases to amuse me.”

Jetanien chuckled at that. “I may learn to like this Romulan.”

“Since the recent contact between one of our vessels and a Federation starship, I have had discussions with trusted colleagues about how best to open new diplomatic channels between our governments. We did not agree with the mission given to that vessel or to the ship sent to the area of space you call the Taurus Reach, believing those actions to be unnecessarily aggressive for no purpose other than provocation. For there to be a lasting peace, we must stop searching for battles that do not need to be fought in the first place.”

It was what the Romulan said next that caught Jetanien off guard. “I recall Selina mentioning you on occasion. She referred to you as a gifted prodigy with much potential. Based on what she told me about you, you very well might be someone who can persuade your Federation to engage us the way we wish to approach you—in peace. To that end, I make a proposition: full-faith negotiations, face-to-face, at a neutral site of your choosing.”

He shrugged. “If you have contemporaries within the Klingon Empire who you feel are up to this challenge, then we are willing to meet with them as well. As Selina might once have said, I leave the ball in your court and await your reply with great anticipation. Until then, my new friend, I wish you well.”

D’tran’s image faded on the computer display, and Jetanien looked up at Karumé. “Well, what do you think of that?”

Karumé shook her head, her expression skeptical. “It’s either the mother of all cons, or else this D’tran just dropped a career-defining opportunity right into your lap. The question now is, what do you intend to do about it?”

It was a question Jetanien had been mulling for some time before Karumé’s arrival. The idea of brokering any kind of extended diplomatic discourse with the Romulans and the Klingons, particularly now, with relations between the Federation and the Klingon Empire teetering on the edge of the proverbial abyss, excited him. As D’tran had said, he might be the one to foster such a cooperation. After his failed attempt to bring together the Federation, the Klingons, and the Tholians with respect to the ongoing concerns in the Taurus Reach, this was just the challenge he needed now.

“Is there another choice?” he said after a moment. “We at least have to explore the possibilities and see where they might take us.” Assuming a more comfortable position on his chair, he reached once more to the computer and pressed the control to activate its voice interface. “Computer, provide a list of Class-M planets occupying positions equidistant to Federation, Klingon, and Romulan territory. Include spatial coordinates for all selections.”

Jetanien and Karumé waited in silence while the computer processed the request, which took longer than the ambassador anticipated. After nearly a minute, a list of planets appeared on the screen. It was a short list.

“I don’t recognize any of these,” Karumé said.

“Wait,” Jetanien said, pointing to one name. “This one might work. It has no strategic value for any party and possesses no natural resources worth exploiting. It’s an inhospitable hunk of rock, with no distractions to fuel unsavory agendas.” He released a satisfied grunt. Of those listed, one planet seemed perfect for his needs.

Nimbus III.

60

INTERLUDE

The Shedai Wanderer had found a new home.

Still reeling from the exertion it had cost her to traverse the Void, she took a moment to gather what little strength she was able to preserve. She was weaker now than she had ever been since the collapsing of the Conduits and the departure of the First World. How much longer could she continue like this, without the guidance and support of the First Conduit? Had the Enumerated Ones not heard her cries for help or those of others like her who she knew were scattered among the stars?

As always, her pleas went unanswered.

Surveying her surroundings, the Wanderer could not help but feel satisfaction at what she beheld. Unlike the world she had been forced to sterilize after its infestation at the hands of Telinaruul,this planet held much promise. Its lush, fertile environs offering ideal breeding grounds for the nascent life-forms it harbored. Searching her memory, the Wanderer recalled this world as being among those selected for prolonged experimentation and observation, with the ultimate goal of bringing about the next stage in the evolution of the Shedai.

So far, the planet had been spared contamination by Telinaruul.Observing the primordial beings that dwelled among its vast undersea mountains and crevasses, the Wanderer sensed that they carried within them the seeds of life given to them uncounted generations ago by the Enumerated Ones. Their potential was palpable, yet at their present rate of advancement, she knew it would be aeons before they rose to a level that might indicate whether those who planted them here were successful. Such progression might be accelerated, of course, should the Enumerated Ones desire it, but without them, this world and the life on it would evolve at its predetermined pace. As such, it offered no immediate assistance to the Wanderer in her ongoing battle.

That is correct, child. There are no others to take pity on you.

Her consciousness convulsed in response to the words of the Apostate, taunting her once more from somewhere in the Void. Summoning precious bits of her flagging strength, she probed outward, searching for some hint to his location. It was a futile attempt. At the same time, the Wanderer drew in upon herself, hoping to escape the Apostate’s scrutiny, not just for her sake but also for the burgeoning life this world cradled. If her enemy found it, she knew that he would obliterate it from existence without a second thought.

Worry not, little one. I will find you and the feeble hatchlings you seek to protect.

For a moment, the Wanderer was certain she sensed irritation in the Apostate’s words, along with…fatigue? Was it possible that her adversary also was weakened, perhaps by attempts at transit without benefit of the Conduits?

I need no such aid. I am all.

Strong words, but they were tainted by something else, something new, an odd quality the Wanderer had never before felt him exhibit. Then she understood.

The Apostate was afraid, but of what?

I fear nothing.

A lie, the Wanderer decided, but what could have this effect on one so powerful? Might it be the furtive, unknown Voice that had penetrated the Void, perhaps even at the bidding of Telinaruul?Straining to listen, she detected no overt sign of that presence, either, but the sensation of terror that had gripped her upon first hearing it was still fresh in her memories.

Of course it is. Monsters always frighten children.

The Apostate’s goading tone belied his own anxiety, of this the Wanderer now was certain, just as she was convinced that her enemy harbored his own apprehension about whatever it was that awaited them in the Void. Did that make this mysterious entity her ally? Of that the Wanderer was unsure. All she knew was that she still felt the dread that had enveloped her on the diseased world she had so recently cleansed. Did the Telinaruulunderstand this unknown consciousness? Was it possible that they were able to harness its power to any degree?

She all but shuddered at that thought.

Your weakness will be your undoing, young one.

The Wanderer ignored her enemy and his words, dismissing them as empty, distant, and weak. There were larger concerns, she knew. Somewhere in the Void, something powerful was growing, lying ominously in wait. Would any threat it posed be enough to incite the return of the Enumerated Ones? If that happened, was whatever might oppose them great enough to usurp their will?

Once more, the Shedai Wanderer was gripped by fear.

The Taurus Reach 2267

EPILOGUE

Harsh crimson illumination bathed the bridge of the I.K.S. Zin’za,casting most of the room in near-darkness and forcing the animated computer displays that littered the bulkheads to stand out in stark contrast. In the dim lighting, the shadows grew longer, making the walls of the already cramped space seem as though they might be pushing inward and attempting to crush the comparatively fragile beings who dwelled within them. The sensation acted as stimulation to a true warrior’s spirit. Anticipation was heightened, hearts beat stronger, and blood raced ever faster through veins as every fiber of one’s being prepared for battle.

Captain Kutal would have it no other way.

“Range?” he barked, feeling the rush of expectation as the time for battle approached. Leaning forward in his chair, he studied the immense Federation space station now depicted on the bridge’s central viewing screen.

“Twelve thousand qelI’qamsand closing, Captain,” replied his tactical officer, Lieutenant Tonar. “Sensors show that the station’s deflector-shield generators and weapons systems are online.”

On the viewer, the image of the station was overlaid with a series of bright red indicators and other telemetry that offered tactical information about the station as relayed from the Zin’za’s sensors. The outpost, one of the Federation Starfleet’s newest and most advanced models, was by all accounts more than capable of defending itself against an enemy attack such as the one it currently faced. Of course, the station had not yet endured the ferocity of a Klingon battle squadron, an oversight Kutal intended to correct in the coming moments.

As for the quartet of vessels maneuvering into a defensive formation between the station and Kutal’s squadron, tactical scans showed that only one of the ships, the Earthers’ closest equivalent to a battle cruiser, appeared to pose any significant threat. Of course, as an experienced veteran of space combat, Kutal knew that a ship’s fighting prowess was predicated as much—if not more—on the ability of its crew and the ingenuity of its commander as on its simple technical capabilities. Further, he had seen more than one Earther ship and its master emerge from battle with victories that should have been beyond their reach. That included the battle cruiser that he and his strike force now faced. Kutal vowed that there would be no underestimating his enemy on this day.

“Captain,” called out Lieutenant Kreq, the Zin’za’s communications officer, from his station along the bridge’s left bulkhead, “the space station is attempting to hail us.”

Kutal released a low grunt. “Of course they are. Earthers love to talk,” he said, sneering as he cast a look over his shoulder to the back of the bridge and the lone figure standing alone there and observing the proceedings. “It seems to be an embedded genetic disposition of their species.”

The time for talk had passed. As far as Kutal was concerned, diplomats had already spent far too long delaying what should have been allowed to happen in the first place. Even after it had become clear that the Earthers would present an obstacle to Klingon expansion, the High Council had continued to squander repeated opportunities to vanquish the Federation Starfleet. Studying early battles such as those fought at Donatu V, Axanar, and Kolm-an, to name but a few, and even more recent encounters had shown Kutal where the mistakes had been committed. Even the more recent encounters—including ones in which he had participated—revealed a criminal misjudgment of the Earthers’ tenacity and resolve. One day, the Council would have to realize that the only way to deal with the humans was to unleash the full might of the empire in a merciless, unrelenting campaign that could only end with the Earthers and their allies crushed for all time.

Perhaps, after months of repeated delays and other stalling tactics, today was that day.

“Execute envelopment formation to’qiL maH!” Kutal barked, emphasizing the command by punching the air with his fist. “Activate the tactical display!”

The image on the main viewer shifted as Tonar complied with the order, now offering a computer-generated schematic that depicted the space station and its quartet of defense ships as well as the Zin’zaand the five other battle cruisers of Kutal’s strike force.

“Target their lead ship with all weapons,” he called out. Overcoming the other vessels would be far easier if the most powerful of the Starfleet ships could be disabled or destroyed at the outset. Once that was accomplished, firepower could then be concentrated on the station itself. Whatever armaments it might have, it was still an immobile target, ultimately vulnerable to the sweeping attacks that would be inflicted by his strike force. Kutal smiled. Patience and persistence would rule the day.

He was so caught up in the activities unfolding around him as his ship prepared for battle that it took an additional moment for the captain to realize that his seat was growing warmer. The heat penetrated the thick material of his uniform, gaining intensity with each passing heartbeat. He rose from his chair, growling in confusion and annoyance. “What is this?”

The reply to his question came in the form of everyone on the bridge jerking back from the stations, a few of them cursing or barking as they held their hands up and away from their bodies. Kutal now could see waves of heat radiating from nearly every surface across the bridge, the heat continuing to grow more oppressive in the confined space.

Much to his own disgust, Kutal flinched at the sound of a soft, whining hum that began to permeate the bridge. His eyes narrowing in suspicion, the captain searched for the source of the noise but saw nothing out of the ordinary. The volume of the droning increased to the point where it became uncomfortable, as though a sonic weapon were being aimed at his head.

“Are we under attack?” he asked, shouting to be heard.

Tonar shook his head. “We must be, but I do not know how, Captain. Our weapons and shields have deactivated, as if by themselves!” He pointed to his tactical console. “The Earther vessels have also been disabled. I cannot explain it!”

Finally, the sound began to fade, only to be replaced with a sphere of light that simply appeared before the forward viewing screen and began to grow and stretch into a humanoid shape. To their credit, several of Kutal’s warriors drew their weapons, but he commanded them to hold their fire—for the moment, at least.

“What is this trickery?” Tonar asked, his disruptor in his hand and aimed at the mysterious intruder.

When the glow faded, revealing what appeared to be a bearded human dressed in drab clothing, it was obvious to the captain that a real being did not stand before him. Instead, it appeared more as a vision, a ghostlike projection, but what was its source?

It was the ghost who answered.

“My name is Ayelborne, of the planet Organia,”the figure said, clasping his hands before him. “At this moment, the military forces of your empire and the Federation have converged in orbit above my planet, as well as elsewhere in space, ready, if not eager, to wage war. Were you to confine your hostilities to yourselves, we would be content to allow you to destroy each other. However, your conflict threatens millions of innocent lives, and that is something we cannot allow. All of your instruments of violence now radiate a temperature of three hundred fifty degrees. They are inoperative. These same conditions exist within both of your fleets. There will be no battle.”

Of all the impudence! Kutal felt his jaw tighten as he listened to the arrogance spewing from the mouth of this…whatever this was. An Earther? Kutal doubted it. As pompous as the Federation often projected itself to be, it did not possess the technology simply to disable an entire strike force as if by magic. Even if such power was in their grasp, why would they inflict it on their own vessels, rather than crippling just those of their enemy?

“What is this transmission’s origin?” Kutal barked.

Tonar shook his head. “I am unable to determine its source, sir. It is definitely not coming from the space station or any of the Federation ships.”

“As I stand before you now,”the interloper continued, “I also stand upon the home planet of your empire and the home planet of the Federation. Unless both sides agree to an immediate cessation of hostilities, all of your armed forces, wherever they may be, will be immediately immobilized.”

“Who is this mongrel?” Tonar shouted, pointing at the alien with his disruptor pistol. “You dare to challenge the empire?”

The query, repeated in various forms by other warriors on the bridge, was ignored by the projection. Instead, this alien from a planet Kutal did not recognize or recall from star charts or intelligence briefings continued his incessant babbling, offering a litany of spineless whining about how he and his ilk would rather refrain from interfering in the affairs of others but now felt they had no choice but to foist their will upon the empire and the Earthers. He also offered assurances that there would be further contact, during which these Organians would clarify their position and the ultimatum they had levied.

“You will be offered paths to assist you in finding peace with each other,”the alien said, seemingly turning to level a withering gaze at Kutal himself. “The choice of which path to follow is entirely yours to make, and the consequences for your decision will rest solely with you.”

As the final words left his mouth, the projection began to shimmer and contract, with the near-blinding light now returning to envelop him and accompanied once more by the irritating whine that assaulted Kutal’s ears. The captain squinted to ward off the worst of the glare, but it faded more quickly this time, and within moments, all evidence that the alien—real or projected—had ever been on the bridge was gone. Only the bridge crew was left, exchanging looks of bewilderment and mounting anger at what they had just witnessed.

“Captain,” Kreq said, his youthful eyes wide with puzzlement, “is it possible? An enemy that can defeat the empire with such ease?”

Moving to his chair and realizing at the last instant that it still radiated far too much heat for him to sit in it, Kutal did not reply to the question. What could he say? He had no answers. Who were these Organians? Were they bluffing, or did they truly wield the power they seemed to have demonstrated? Kutal did not discount the possibility of such a people’s existence. His tours of duty in the Gonmog Sector alone had provided ample proof.

“Turning to face the rear of the bridge, Kutal directed his attention to the lone human standing there. The man had remained silent throughout the events of the past several months. “What do youthink, Earther?”

Dressed in dark clothes that almost allowed him to blend in with the shadows, the man stood with his arms folded across his chest. The deep lines on his face appeared even more pronounced under the bridge’s severe lighting as he regarded Kutal with an expression that the Klingon recognized on humans as one of uncertainty.

“Well,” said Diego Reyes, former and now-disgraced Starfleet officer. He nodded toward the viewscreen and the image of Starbase 47 displayed on it. “Things have certainly gotten a bit more interesting.”