Текст книги "Gods Above"

Автор книги: Peter David

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“I’m not trying to trick you into anything,” said Calhoun with a touch of frustration. “I’m trying to help you save your own lives.”

“Our lives do not require saving.”

And suddenly the image of Burgoyne was gone.

So was the visual of the Tholian.

Instead the screen was occupied by the huge head and face of what could only be considered some sort of wolf creature ... or perhaps a hyena.

It was black, black as death, and the eyes glowed red. It hung in space, miles long, stars filtering through it in places. Its expression was grim, and it said, “Who comes seeking ambrosia?”

Again a pause. Shelby wasn’t entirely sure how to respond.

Lykene saved her the trouble. The Tholian’s brittle but firm voice sounded over the com systems. If he was at all deterred by the sight of a miles-long-and-wide jackal head talking at him from space, one wouldn’t have been able to tell by the unyielding assurance of his speech. “I am Commander Lykene of the Tholian Assembly. I have come here at the behest of the assembly to inform you—”

“ ‘Inform us’?” said the jackal-headed being. The expressions of his face were quite limited. “Who are you ... to inform us of anything.”

“We are the Tholian Assembly, and we are now informing you that ambrosia is our property.”

“Is it. And I, Anubis of the gods, am asking you how you arrived at that conclusion.”

“This world is within territorial boundaries of the Tholian Assembly. As such, it and everything upon it is subject to Tholian ownership.”

Shelby almost had to admire Lykene. He had staked out a truly idiotic position, but having taken it, he wasn’t backing down from it.

“I see,” rumbled Anubis. “Well, Commander Lykene of the Tholian Assembly, if it is ambrosia you seek, then it is ambrosia you shall have.”

For a heartbeat, Shelby felt a surge of relief. Calhoun had obviously been worried that something bad was going to happen, but it appeared that the Beings were going to cooperate. That relief, however, evaporated as Anubis continued, “Provided, of course, that the entirety of the Tholian Assembly is willing to worship us.”

“Worship?” For the first time, Lykene sounded puzzled.

“That’s one of their conditions, Commander,” Shelby interjected. “They’ve been fairly consistent about that. In order to avail oneself of ambrosia, one must be willing to worship these individuals as gods. Build temples to them, pay tribute, bow down to—”

“This is not a negotiation,” Lykene replied. “We are not seeking the cooperation of these creatures purporting divinity. We, and the members and allies of the Tholian Assembly, are here to claim the substance ambrosia for our own. There will be no worshipping, no tribute, no bowing. We demand that one metric ton of ambrosia be made available to us immediately. This will be due us in no less than one hour.”

“I see,” said Anubis, his voice continuing to sound within the ship through means that Shelby could not even begin to guess. “And if we refuse?”

“Then the Tholian Assembly will regard such a stance as a declaration of war, and you will have to live with the consequences of your actions.”

“Perhaps we will,” Anubis said, and then his voice flattened and his eyes glowed in the vastness of space. “You, however ... will not.”

“Tholian vessel!”came Calhoun’s voice, sounding desperate. “This is exactly the wrong tack to take! Stand down if you want to survive! Captain Shelby, make them get out of there!”

“Commander Lykene,” Shelby began.

“Captain!”said Gold from conn, and he had never sounded as alarmed as he did just then.

The face of Anubis appeared to be getting larger, and his jaws were opening. Wide.

“Perspective check! Is he coming toward us?” demanded Shelby.

“Negative!” Hash said. “He’s heading for the Tholian ship! Changing view angle.”

Immediately the viewpoint of the screen shifted, and they now had a true outlook of what was transpiring. Sure enough, the massive head of Anubis was bearing down, not upon the Tridentor Excalibur,but on the triangular Tholian vessel. The Tholian was standing his ground.

“Conn, do we have a phaser lock?”

“There’s nothing to lock on to, Captain,” said Gold. “Our eyes tell us it’s there, but the instruments say it’s not.”

“Tholian firing,” announced Hash.

Sure enough, the Tholian ship was shooting at the giant image approaching them as blue pulses of energy blasted out of the vessel. They passed harmlessly through the great face, and Anubis was almost upon them.

“It went right through him,” said Hash. “Is it possible he can’t hurt them? That it’s just some sort of illusion?”

“I think we’re about to find out,” said Shelby.

She was right.

The vast jaws of Anubis clamped down upon the Tholian vessel, locking on to it top and bottom. Anubis then shook his head from side to side, like a dog worrying a bone. And the Tholian vessel was rocked, helpless. It continued to fire, but the blasts had no more effect than they had before. But as impervious as Anubis was to being touched, it wasn’t slowing him down in the slightest in his endeavors to assail the Tholian ship.

“Elizabeth! What’s happening up there?”came Calhoun’s voice.

What Shelby was witnessing was so insane, she wasn’t entirely sure what to say to Calhoun. And then, before she could answer, the entire thing became moot.

Through with playing with the Tholian ship, Anubis’ jaws scissored together. It cut through the hull of the Tholian ship without slowing down. Then the head snapped to the right and left, and the ship came apart in all directions. In the silence of space, an eruption occurred as the internal atmosphere of the Tholian vessel—whatever that might be—rushed out into the vacuum as a fireball devouring the ship and its inhabitants. Then, just as quickly, the fireball snuffed out and was gone.

“Elizabeth!”

“They’re gone, Mac,” she said tonelessly. And it was obvious from the way she’d said it that she didn’t mean they’d beaten a quick retreat and returned to Tholian space.

Slowly the vast head of Anubis swiveled around and was now staring right at them once more.

“We hope that the lesson we have taught here today will not be lost upon you,” he said. And then the image disappeared from the screen.

“Son of a bitch,” muttered Shelby, the irony of the observation—considering what Anubis looked like—not being lost on her.

She knew that she had no particular reason to care about the fate of the Tholians. They were a belligerent, territorial, and duplicitous race. But needless death remained needless death, even when it happened to someone for whom one felt no affection. And it further underscored the tremendous menace that the Beings represented.

“Captain,” said Hash, turning in his chair. He looked slightly pale and shaken by what he’d witnessed. “Just before the Tholian ship was destroyed, they got out a distress message to the Tholian Assembly. They, and their allies, know what just happened here.”

“It’s going to be all over the ether in no time,” Gold said.

“Mac,” said Shelby as she stared at the emptiness of space. “Burgy. You still there?”

“I’m here, Elizabeth,” came Calhoun’s voice.

“Here, Captain,” said Burgoyne.

“I’m thinking, gentlemen ... that we may have a war on our hands.”

“Very likely.”

It was neither Calhoun nor Burgoyne who had replied, however. Instead a woman was standing on the bridge, clad in a lightweight, Greek-styled toga, with a quiver of arrows slung over her back.

Shelby rose from her chair, knowing instantly. “Artemis,” she growled.

“We are fully aware that this assault will likely bring more attackers,” said Artemis airily. “That is acceptable. But it will bring more worshippers as well. People who understand what it is we have to offer.”

“That being a quick and horrible death to anyone who doesn’t accept your word? Who doesn’t bow down to you?” demanded Shelby.

“Yes,” said Artemis with a flatness that was chilling. “We came with an offer. We were initially rebuffed. But the Danteri accepted us. Others will as well. Those that don’t ... will be annihilated. We will be worshipped. And loved. And respected. And those that don’t will pay the price that blasphemers and nonbelievers have paid throughout history.”

“That price being having to put up with poseurs laboring under the delusion of godhood?”

“Captain,” said Artemis slowly, “do you desire to have your ship encounter the same tragic end as the Tholian vessel just did?” She paused and then repeated, more sharply and with greater warning, “Do you?”

There was vast tension on the bridge. Her jaw twitching, Shelby said, “No. I don’t.”

“Ask me not to.”

“Are you threatening this ves—”

“Ask me not to.”

There was a sudden shaking and shuddering of the Trident,and Shelby was almost knocked off her feet, grabbing the back of the command chair to steady herself. Others grabbed at their consoles, and Artemis simply stood there, her arms folded. Alarm systems were going off all over the bridge.

“Don’t destroy this ship!”shouted Shelby.

An instant later, the shaking ceased. Artemis smiled then, and took a step back. “You see? That wasn’t so difficult. It was almost a prayer. But that will come in time. At least, you’d best hope it does ... lest it come too late.”

And with that, she vanished in a burst of light.

Shelby stood there, her face flushed with humiliation and anger, her eyes flinty and filled with anger.

“Elizabeth,” came Calhoun’s voice. “Are you still there.”

“Calhoun,” said Shelby, in as controlled a manner as she’d ever spoken, “round up our people and get back up to Excalibur.I’ll meet you there. I’ve had it with these creatures. It’s time to kick their asses back to whatever mountaintop they crawled down from.”

“Sounds like fun,” said Calhoun.

EXCALIBUR

I.

MOKE WAS VERY AWARE that something big was going on.

The atmosphere in the Excaliburseemed to have changed. Everyone appeared to be very focused as they went about their duties. There was very little chatter between crewmen, very little of the relaxed mood he’d come to know. The crew seemed very much “all business.”

But then Moke realized that it was an attitude that he’d be well advised to emulate. He too had business, after all, and it was up to him to attend to it. And that business very much involved speaking with Mackenzie Calhoun.

He knew that Calhoun was back on the ship. He’d tried to raise him on the com link, but when he’d identified himself, Calhoun’s voice had said brusquely, “Moke, is something wrong? Are you okay?”

“Wha—? Uh ... no,” said Moke. “No, I’m fine. It’s just—”

“Then I hate to be abrupt with you, but there’s a great deal going on at the moment, so this will just have to wait until later.” And with that, he cut the link.

Moke would have been fully aware that there was a lot going on even if Calhoun hadn’t told him. Captain Shelby had returned, and she’d brought both Mueller and also a man that Moke didn’t recognize. He was the first man whom Moke had ever seen that he would have described as “pretty,” and there was something about him that Moke definitely didn’t like. Moke tried to say hello to her, but Shelby was too deep in discussion with the man and barely glanced at him.

He didn’t take offense. He knew she had grown-up things on her mind. But he also knew that he had to talk to Mac, because “it was time.”

Coming from another direction was Zak Kebron. He looked different somehow to Moke. His skin was glistening, almost as if it was brand new. He was holding what looked to be a kind of short, curved sword, swinging it in leisurely fashion back and forth without apparently thinking about it. Several people had to jump out of the way to get clear of it. Kebron didn’t seem to notice.

“What’s that, Zak?” inquired Moke.

Kebron stopped briefly and held it up. “Well, the science department has gone over it thoroughly in tandem with engineering. As near as they can determine, it’s some sort of energy funnel. But it has not storage capability of its own. Nor are they clear on precisely what type of energy it’s designed to channel, or what it could be used for. Does that answer your question?”

Moke stood there, stunned. He hadn’t anticipated Kebron answering with anything more than two or three words at most, and probably not even that. This copious explanation was entirely outside his expectations or Kebron’s typical behavior. All Moke could manage was a nod, at which point Kebron reached out with his huge hand toward Moke’s head. For an instant, Moke thought that Kebron was going to crush his skull, but the Brikar simply ruffled his hair with one finger and then continued on his way. Moke was so surprised that he completely forgot to tell Kebron he needed to see Calhoun until it was too late.

He sprinted after Kebron, his shorter legs no match for the Brikar’s stride. He got to the turbolift moments after Kebron had already entered it, and even though the next one came along in mere seconds, it seemed an eternity to the boy. Passersby saw Moke saying “I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying!” to thin air and wondered if he wasn’t becoming addled in some way.

He stepped into the turbolift and suddenly realized he wasn’t sure where to go. “Morgan,” he called out.

Morgan’s voice promptly filtered into the turbolift. “You’re the only one who calls me by name, Moke. It’s very much appreciated. What can I do for you?”

“Can you tell me what deck Kebron got off on? Or where Mac is? I need to—

“Zak Kebron is joining Captain Calhoun in the deck-three conference lounge. Would you like me to take you there?”

“Yes, please.”

As he made his way to the conference lounge, he kept running through his mind what he was going to say. The problem was that he didn’t fully comprehend it, which was frustrating, because he felt as if he should. Every so often he would mutter back to the empty air next to him, getting more confused looks from crewmen.

Finally he stood in front of the conference-lounge door. It didn’t open automatically the way that most other doors around the ship did. He wondered why, and then saw a small steady red light on a wall panel near the door. He correctly intuited that it meant the door was locked.

“Morgan,” he called once more.

“Yes, Moke.”

“Why is the door locked?”

“Sealing a conference lounge door from the outside is standard procedure for any conference involving two or more commanding officers. It’s a safety measure.”

“Oh. Okay. Can you open it?”

“For you? Of course.”

The light switched from red to green and the door slid open as Moke confidently walked in.

He’d never seen Calhoun looking quite so surprised. He was obviously in the middle of saying something, his index finger extended, making a point. Shelby was there along with the gleaming man and Mueller, and Zak Kebron. Si Cwan was there as well, and Burgoyne, and so was a rather intimidating-looking man who reminded Moke of Soleta. But he sensed the man was much older than Soleta, and much graver of mien.

“Nice security lock you’ve got there, Captain,” said Shelby.

“Moke,” said Calhoun, shaking off his initial confusion. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you, Mac. It doesn’t matter if everyone else is here ...”

“But it does matter, Moke,” Calhoun said firmly. He came from around the table with the clear intention of escorting the boy out. “We’re in the middle of discussing some important things, and—”

“Yes, I know. The dark, one-eyed bearded man told me so. It’s been getting easier and easier for me to hear him lately.”

There were bewildered looks from around the table. “We’re taking time for a young boy’s imaginary friend?” asked the gleaming man.

“Quiet, Mr. Gleau,” said Shelby. So that was his name. Gleau. Made sense to Moke, since he kind of glowed.

“A one-eyed, bearded man,” said the man who somewhat reminded Moke of Soleta. “Captain Calhoun ... if I am not mistaken, that description roughly matches that of the Earth Norse all-father god, Woden, father of the thunder deity Thor. Under ordinary circumstances, that would be considered—at most—a coincidence. However, when one takes into account the nature of the entities with which we’ve been dealing ...”

“Yes ... yes, I see where you’re going with that, Ambassador Spock.” Calhoun was still approaching Moke, but his body language had changed. He no longer looked as if he was about to rush Moke out the door. “This one-eyed man ... tell me more about him. Where did you see him?”

“What do you mean, ‘did’?”

“I mean ...” Calhoun stopped, his eyes narrowing. “Wait ... are you saying he’s ... he’s here? Now? You’re seeing him now?”

“Yes. Right over there,” said Moke, pointing to a spot at the far end of the room. “He’s next to McHenry.”

II.

The meeting had only just begun when Calhoun looked up in surprise at Moke’s arrival. The fact that Soleta was not present merely fueled Calhoun’s determination to attend to the Beings once and for all, and he was pleased to see that Shelby shared his attitude. It was so rare that they were one hundred percent in accord with one another.

Shelby had offered to bring her science officer, Gleau, along. Calhoun had readily agreed, since Soleta was down on Danter and could hardly be considered in useful condition anyway. However, when Mueller, Shelby, and Gleau entered, he noticed that Mueller seemed to be giving Gleau a wide berth, even looking at him with distaste. He had no idea what the problem was between them, and decided it wasn’t really his concern. Whatever it was, no doubt Shelby had a handle on it.

They had gone around the room quickly, each individual describing their encounters and sharing their knowledge in short, concise sentences. Thus in short order they were current with each other’s knowledge.

But before they could take the discussion beyond that, Moke had entered, to Calhoun’s astonishment. He didn’t know what it was the boy wanted and, at that point, didn’t much care. But he was brought up short when Moke told them of what he’d been seeing.

“McHenry?”Several voices chorused at once.

Burgoyne’s was the loudest. S/he was staring fixedly at the place where Moke had been pointing. “Mark?” s/he said, and s/he squinted and stared, then looked away and then back again, and then s/he gasped, “Oh .. my God ... Mark ... ?”

“Where?” demanded Calhoun.

“Right there!” S/he pointed with quivering finger. “He’s right there! I thought I saw him earlier, but I just ... I thought I was imagining it, thought I was crazy! I figured there was no way. He’s still lying in sickbay, he’s ... it isn’t possible, is it ... ?”

“When dealing with the unknown,” said the one who’d been called Spock, “it is generally wise to approach situations from the point of view of what is possible, rather than what is not.”

“Moke.” Calhoun was down on one knee, holding the boy by the shoulders. “Can you communicate with him? The bearded man. Can you ask him if his name is Woden?”

“He can hear you, Mac. He’s standing right there.”

“Oh. Of course.” Calhoun tried to repress a smile and didn’t entirely succeed. “All right ... what did he say?”

“He said yes. Among others.”

“Can he restore McHenry to life?” asked Burgoyne with urgency.

Moke listened carefully, then said, “He said it depends upon what happens. With the others.”

“I don’t understand,” said Shelby. “Why is it that you can hear and see him, Moke?”

Moke blinked in surprise. “I dunno. I just ... well, I just could. I never thought to ask him.”

Calhoun marveled at that, although he reasoned that perhaps he shouldn’t. Children, after all, were the most accepting of creatures, their reality an ever-changing and fluid environment.

Then he saw Moke pale, and his eyes widen. “Moke?” said Calhoun. “Moke ... what is ... ?”

“He ...” Moke’s lips suddenly looked bone dry. “He ... he said ...”

Once again Calhoun took him gently by the shoulders, except this time he could practically feel the boy trembling. “Moke ... what did he s—?”

“He said he’s my father.”

The words thudded in the air like mallets. Moke began to shake more violently, and it was all Calhoun could do to steady him. He looked in the direction that Moke was staring, as if he could see the elder god himself.

It was insane. It was a completely insane notion.

And then he thought of how vague Moke’s mother had been about the boy’s patrimony. And of the incredible stormlike powers that the boy had possessed ... powers that were certainly consistent with someone who had a filial connection to an alleged thunder god.

And just like that, it suddenly became a much less insane notion.

When Mackenzie Calhoun had come to Moke’s world, Moke had latched on to him, turning him into a surrogate father even though Calhoun had made abundantly clear to the lad that he was not at all responsible for bringing the boy into the world. That had deterred Moke’s devotion only slightly, and when his mother had passed away, she had given the boy over into Calhoun’s keeping. He’d done the best he could with him, even though occasionally Calhoun felt utterly at sea.

Yet now, out of the blue, the mystery of Moke’s parentage was solved, except all it did was evoke even more mysteries.

Moke looked up at him, wide-eyed, stunned, and obviously not a little scared. “Is ... can that ... is ... Mac, is he ... ?”

For one of the few times in his life, Calhoun had absolutely no idea what to say. “It’s ... I suppose it’s possible, Moke. I don’t know. But this I do know,” and now he stood and, feeling a bit foolish, addressed the empty air. “These Beings ... these fellow creatures of yours ... it’s clear that they want to spread their dominion over much more than Danter. The problem is, I’m not exactly sure whose side you’re supposed to be on. I swear to God, though ... if you’re ruthlessly manipulating the hopes and dreams of this boy as part of some twisted game ...”

“It’s not a game,” Moke said suddenly. Then he said to Calhoun, chagrined, “I ... I didn’t mean to interrupt. I was just saying what he said. He said it’s not a game.”

“I get that, Moke.”

“Why is he invisible?” asked Mueller. “Why is he communicating this way instead of just appearing to us, as the others have ... ?”

“If we are to believe that he is endeavoring to aid us,” Spock said, “then the logical assumption is that this condition was, in some way, inflicted upon him by others of his kind.”

“He says that’s right,” said Moke. “He says you remind him of Pan.”

Spock made some sort of odd grunt.

“It’s not easy for me to hear him,” Moke said. “He kind of ... of flickers in and out. Sometimes I catch a whole sentence, sometimes only a word. I think he said just now that he’s able to talk a little more directly through me because the Beings aren’t as strong as they were,” Moke continued.

This prompted bewildered glances among the officers. “Not as strong,” said Shelby. “They annihilated that Tholian ship with what seemed to be minimal effort. If that’s them in their weakened state, I’d hate to see them when they’re firing on all cylinders.”

“He says ... What?” Moke was addressing the corner of the room. He looked as if he was straining to hear. “The ... worshippers are key,” said Moke.

“What?” More puzzled looks. “Worshippers are key?” asked Kebron. “Key to what? If—”

“Of course,” said Spock in such a way that it was the closest Calhoun had seen the Vulcan come to expressing annoyance with himself ... or at all. “Of course. It is obvious. Painfully obvious. I am a fool.”

“Then we’re all fools,” said Calhoun, “because I’m still not entirely certain what you’re talking about or what’s going on.”

“You have no reason to feel that way, Captain,” Spock told him with certainty, “because you have no reason to have figured out what is happening here. I, however, have no excuse, for I have encountered this before.”

Slowly he began to circle the room, and it appeared as if he was talking more to himself than to anyone else at that point. “Going all the way back to the Enterprise’sencounter with Apollo, there has been one main area of consistency in the behavior of these Beings. That is their desire to be worshipped ... prayed to. A wise man once asked, ‘What does God need with a starship?’ One might also wonder ... ‘What do gods need with worshippers?’ ”

“But they’re not gods,” Calhoun said firmly. “They’re ... Beings. Beings of energy ...”

“In a humanoid form,” Gleau chimed in. He had been standing there with a distant, even annoyed air that so much attention was being paid to Moke, and that information was being gathered through this bizarre manner. But with the flow of ideas, he was starting to go along with it, even build upon it. “But even energy beings need sustenance of some sort.”

“I have encountered creatures on several occasions,” said Spock, “that actually derived nourishment from such things as emotions. Usually negative emotions, such as fear or anger.”

Mueller looked at Spock with something akin to bemused wonderment and asked, “Is there anything you haven’tencountered?”

Spock gave it a moment’s thought. “No,” he decided.

“Is this right, Moke?” asked Calhoun. “Ask your ... friend. Is what we’re saying correct?”

“He’s nodding,” said Moke. “I think it’s getting harder for him to talk ...”

“So what we’re dealing with here,” Shelby now said, “are creatures that draw their power from positive emotions—the worship—that people feel for them.”

“And also from doubt,” added Calhoun. “If an opponent becomes concerned that the Beings will triumph, they derive strength from that as well.”

“If, however, they are of the same type of creature as I have encountered,” said Spock, “thriving on psychic energy ... then their outward appearance is a sort of construct, to provide frame of reference for onlookers ... not unlike the Organians.”

“Mr. Spock ... I’m sorry, Ambassador Spock,” Gleau said. “Not to sound foolish, but I’ve taken a special interest in your career. In fact, you were the subject of my dissertation at the Academy.”

“How exciting this must be for you then,” said Mueller dryly.

Gleau ignored her, instead continuing to address Spock. “I remember studying that incident with Apollo. During that encounter, didn’t you destroy some sort of ‘energy source’ of his?”

“Yes. In the shape of a place of worship.”

“All right. So I’m thinking,” Gleau said, “that the temple was a sort of repository, a final battery of absorbed energy that Apollo had been storing. So I’m speculating that such energy has a shelf life; eventually, over enough time, it dissipates.”

“It would make sense,” said Spock. “It would explain why he so needed the Enterprisecrew to worship him. That worship was what he required to sustain his power and form.”

“So let’s theorize, then, that when the Beings first confronted us, they were in a weakened state,” said Calhoun.

Burgoyne looked stunned that Calhoun would even suggest it. “Weakened state? Sir, I seem to recall they came damned close to destroying us!”

“But they didn’t,” Calhoun reminded him. “They didn’t ... because the Tridentshowed up. Because when the Tridentshowed up, we believed that we’d been saved. That we were going to be able to fight back. And the Tridentcame barreling in with no preconceptions as to whether she would win or lose. They were just determined to win.”

“What are you saying, Captain?” asked Si Cwan. “That the Excaliburwas vulnerable to the attack ...”

“Because we believed we were. Yes. Because we believedwe were in danger from them ... because we believed that they were—if not gods, at least beings with nearly godlike power—that gave them the energy they needed, like vampires. Our own belief in their ability to hurt us ... gave them that very ability. That’s why they’re encouraging races to attack them. They wantword of their power to spread, because the more it is believed that they are invincible, the more so they will become. Basically they’re living incarnations of the term ‘self-fulfilling prophecy.’ ”

“That’s a hell of a theory, Mac,” said Shelby, looking somewhat dubious. “Moke, what does your invisible friend have to say about all this ...”

“I ...” Moke blinked. “I don’t see him. He’s ... he’s gone. And so is McHenry.”

“Where did they go?”

“I don’t know!” said Moke with growing urgency. “I don’t know!”

III.

“I don’t know ... how much longer ...”

The Old Father’s words echoed Moke’s, except they were outside the conference room.

McHenry had found himself becoming oddly accustomed to his twilight existence, if for no other reason than the constancy of Woden’s company. Now, though, Woden was looking shaken and weak, even for a ghost. They stood in the corridor, and McHenry wondered—not for the first time—how two beings who were insubstantial could stand anywhere at all. But that was the least of his concerns.

“You don’t know how much longer what? What’s going on?”

The Old Father let out a slow breath, which was rather ironic when one considered that he had no reason to breathe. “The energy of belief that the others are tapping into ... I can access as well, even from my current state. With greater effort, and not to as impressive an effect, but I can accomplish it. The others, however ... they’re taking a great interest in what transpires on this vessel. I can sense them doing so. I’m doing what I can to block them, however.”

“What, you’re saying there’s essentially a whole battle going on that the captain and the others have no idea is happening?”

The elder god forced a smile. “You would be amazed how often that is the way of things. The truth is that mortals only perceive a fraction of what is happening in the universe. They think they know so much, but truly comprehend so very, very little. It is the job of higher beings to help keep them safe. To protect them.”

“We can do a fine job of taking care of ourselves, thanks,” said McHenry.

“Oh, and you’ve attended to that wonderfully in your case, haven’t you.”

McHenry scowled.

“The problem is, I cannot maintain my defenses indefinitely,” said Woden. “I am old and tired, and have not fought in quite some time. It takes a lot out of me. So we must hope that your associates hurry to their conclusions while still under my protection.”

“And if they don’t?”

The Old Father stared at him. “They’d better” was all he said.