“For targets?”
“What makes you think that?”
“Again, because of your assault on the D’myurj. Because of your attitude and cold-bloodedness. And because, yes, the D’myurj who are currently on our vessel have accused you of being an aggressive and destructive race.”
“And you believe them?”
“Prove you’re not,” Calhoun challenged him. “Release me back to my ship. Allow us to sail away. Return through the wormhole—which we obviously didn’t destroy, despite our best efforts—to your own galaxy. Leave us be. Forget that you ever met us.”
“I’m afraid that isn’t an option, Captain. Whether you like the situation or not, the fact is that we have encountered you and we know of this galaxy’s existence. We are not about to forget it.”
“Why?” demanded Calhoun. “What is there here that you could possibly need? For that matter, why did you have us destroy the D’myurj satellites? You could have assaulted them and survived the attack. You didn’t need us to do it for you.”
“Isn’t it obvious? We wanted to test your offensive and defensive capabilities. We wanted to see if you, in any way, posed a threat to us.”
So Quentis was right about that. “Really? And what conclusion did you reach?”
“That you were not remotely a threat at all, obviously.” Nyos was smiling widely as he continued walking in a slow circle around Calhoun. “One assumes that your vessel has some degree of power insofar as those who sent you to us are concerned. But there was nothing in your offense that was going to be a difficulty for us. Certainly you must know that by now, Captain. Your ship cannot compete with our vessel.”
“And you therefore assume that no other ship can do so either?”
Nyos’s smile faded. “You are not going to take my word for it? That we do not intend to harm your galaxy?”
“You’re speaking to a captive, so no. I’m not.”
Nyos nodded and then removed a staff from his belt. It was under a meter long and solid black except for a multifaceted gem on the head. He shoved it forward into Calhoun’s gut and electricity ripped through the captain. Calhoun couldn’t help himself; he screamed at the top of his lungs. The agony was far more than he would have thought possible. For a moment he thought his heart had stopped and it might well have, but then it snapped back and fought its way to life once more. The sensation lasted only for seconds, but it felt as if it went on for hours. When Nyos withdrew the staff, Calhoun’s head sagged forward and he gasped repeatedly.
“Fine,” said Nyos, and he stabbed forward with the staff a second time. Once more electricity slammed through Calhoun. At least, he thought it was electricity. It might have been some other sort of energy that was inflicting the same amount of pain—perhaps even more—than an electrical jolt would have provided. Calhoun clamped his teeth onto his lower lip and tried to stifle the howls, but he failed and continued to scream until Nyos removed the staff. Calhoun sank forward, hanging limply.
“You win. We intend to conquer the entirety of your galaxy. Satisfied?”
Calhoun wanted to nod but wasn’t able to move his head.
Nyos took Calhoun’s silence as an indication that he should continue. He strolled calmly back and forth, every so often tapping his open palm with the staff. “You do not truly understand, Captain. It is not simply your galaxy. It is all galaxies, all life. There is a simple truth that you do not comprehend: all life in the universe is an abomination. It was never intended that life should spread and thrive. The galaxy is perfect in its original conception. Think of life as a cancer that has spread throughout. Your doctors I’m sure went to great lengths to dispose of cancer as a threat to your lives, yes? Why would you blame us for doing the same?”
“Life isn’t like cancer,” Calhoun managed to say. “Cancer destroys life.”
“And do you think life has not destroyed the galaxy? Or at least parts of the galaxy?” Nyos snorted derisively. “Trust me, Calhoun, we have seen what life can do to worlds. We have seen worlds torn down, destroyed through the efforts of those residing on them. Atmospheres destroyed, ground strip-mined for minerals. We have seen races render their planets literally uninhabitable, and you know what they do then? They evacuate. Every one of them climbs into a space vessel and goes off in search of another world where they can start over and do the whole damned thing over again. Sometimes they land on a world that is not intended to have life, and they remake it into something that can sustain them. Make that world into something it’s not. Are we supposed to simply stand by and watch that happen? Should any conscientious race? Or should the race that is powerful enough to do something about it make the effort to do so?”
“There’s one thing you’re forgetting,” Calhoun said.
“Really? What would that be?”
“You are also alive. How can you hope to get rid of all life when your race continues to exist?”
Nyos smiled at that. “Oh, believe me, we are very aware of that. I assure you that when we are finished—when we have managed to destroy all life in the galaxies—then we will destroy ourselves as well. The Dayan ship will detonate in a glorious explosion, and our lives will end. That is one of the most fundamental aspects of our belief system. We die last.”
“Why wait? You should set an example and just kill yourselves now.”
Nyos let out a sharp bark of a laugh. “You have an excellent sense of humor, Captain.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
“Yes, I imagine you weren’t.” He shook his head. “What to do with you, Calhoun? What to do? I could of course simply kill you now and throw your body into space. But how would that benefit us?”
“I doubt that it would.”
“But keeping you alive undercuts the threat.”
“You could, of course, keep me here until my crew rescues me.”
Nyos seemed genuinely surprised at the suggestion. “Are you under the impression that that’s going to happen?”
“Yes,” said Calhoun tightly. “I think that’s exactly what’s going to happen. Because you and your people have underestimated my people the entire time, and because you’re not expecting it. They are going to get into this ship and they are going to come and get me. So if you have any brains at all, you will do exactly what you suggested. You’ll kill me and toss my body into space so that they’ll know there’s no point.”
Nyos had been pacing the room, but now he had stopped and was just staring at Calhoun. “You would like that, wouldn’t you? Because you know that if they did indeed launch an assault on this ship, they would die. So you are attempting to save their lives by encouraging me to slay you. Your mind must be truly addled from the shocks, Captain, to embrace such an obvious attempt at saving them.”
Calhoun hated to think it, but Nyos was very likely right. It was a remarkably obvious move. He had certainly come up with far more effective stunts in his life, and he had to think that the fact Nyos could see through his attempt to safeguard his crew didn’t speak at all well of the attempt.
Nyos strolled over to him and cupped his chin in his hand. “I am not going to kill you, Captain. You will see—”
At that moment, the door slid open. Nyos turned to see who had come in, and he was mildly confused when there was no one there. This he evidently considered to be quite strange. He walked over to the door, and when he got there it slid open once more. He stuck his head out into the corridor and looked left and right. He saw nothing.
With a shrug he turned back to Calhoun. The odd moment was forgotten. “I imagine you may be of use at some later date,” he said coolly. “Perhaps you can be utilized in some manner of prisoner exchange. Or perhaps a simple assassination.”
“I’m not going to kill someone for you.”
“Your cooperation really would not be relevant. All we would have to do is place an explosive within your body. We render you
unconscious and then transport you onto whatever ship we wish to destroy. It’s quite simple, really.”
Calhoun realized that Nyos was correct. They could travel all the way to Earth and destroy Starfleet headquarters if they were of a mind to. Or any major command ship. They could show up with any story that they wanted. They could claim that they had discovered Calhoun floating through space in a deserted ship somewhere, had rescued him, and now were bringing him safely home. Anything was possible. And if he wasn’t conscious to contradict them, he could be turned into a weapon against whomever they wanted to destroy.
Calhoun’s heart sank. He was trapped, and there was no way out of it. If his crew was smart, they were already light-years from the scene, using the cloaking device to exit the area. There was no way they could mount any sort of real rescue operation. Assault on the much larger ship was unthinkable.
It was incredibly frustrating.
This is my life now. Despondency. Failure. That’s what’s hanging over every aspect of my existence.
Nyos smiled again, clearly pleased at what was going through Calhoun’s mind. “You understand the depth of your failure, yes? You realize that there is nothing you can do. That you are helpless. You are unaccustomed to that sensation. Bask in it, Captain. Wrestle with the fact that there is absolutely nothing that you can do. Not you and not your crew. I shall keep you apprised of our endeavors as we continue to sweep the area and try to determine if your vessel is still here. I am assuming that they are. I know that you would far prefer to think that they have departed the area, but we both know that they will not wish to abandon you. Their loyalty will spell their doom. You just keep thinking about that.”
He laughed as he turned and walked out of the room.
Calhoun’s head slumped forward, and he closed his eyes.
I’m a failure, he thought.
That was when the clamps suddenly released his hands.
He looked up in confusion, thinking it was some sort of trick. Then the binders came loose on the rest of him as well. He stumbled forward off the device to which he’d been attached and was so disoriented that he almost fell.
But something prevented him from doing so.
It was a hand. An invisible hand was pushed against his chest, keeping him upright.
“What the hell?” he murmured.
He stepped back and stared in confusion at the thin air in front of him.
It began to shimmer and then something appeared in front of him. It was someone wearing a suit of some sort that was skintight. It was solid silver and it reflected their surroundings. It was as if he were staring into a walking mirror; he regarded his puzzled expression staring back at him.
It was definitely a female, but he had never seen anything like what she was wearing.
Once she was satisfied that he was capable of standing on his own, she stepped back and touched her wrist. The covering on her face retracted to reveal her features.
Calhoun’s jaw dropped.
“Soleta?” he whispered.
She nodded. “Good to see you, Captain. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
New Thallon
“HE BROUGHT YOU to the Q Continuum?” Robin could scarcely believe it. “My god. What was that like?”
“Open. Very open,” said McHenry.
They were seated in the living room, and Robin was bouncing Cwansi on her knee. Indi was seated nearby, shaking her head. “I don’t understand. Is he a god or isn’t he?”
“He isn’t,” McHenry said firmly. “He’s an alien being. A very powerful alien being. And for some reason, he’s taken an interest in what’s happening on New Thallon. Trust me when I say that that isn’t a good thing.”
“What’s he going to do?” asked Robin. “Is he going to attack us?”
“I don’t know.”
“And if he does,” said Indi, “are you powerful enough to defeat him?”
“I don’t know,” McHenry said again. His frustration was palpable. “Look, there’s something you both have to realize.” He got to his feet and aimlessly walked around the room. “I haven’t had my powers for all that long. Not in the great, grand cosmic scheme of things. The truth is that I don’t know exactly what I can do and can’t do. But Q, on the other hand . . . he can pretty much do whatever occurs to him. I think . . .”
“You think what?”
He stared at her. “I think we should get the hell out of here. I think we should forget about the promise that you made. I think we should give up the dream of Cwansi growing up to lead these people.”
“You mean leave?” said Indi. She sounded genuinely concerned. She crossed the living room and walked up to McHenry. “But you have people coming this afternoon. People who have made appointments for you to . . .” Her voice trailed off as she saw his expression. She lowered her gaze. “That must have sounded very selfish. I apologize.”
He rested a hand on her shoulder. “No need for apologies—and no, it didn’t sound selfish. You came in and arranged things for us. You made order out of chaos. For that, we thank you.” He turned back to Robin. “So what do you say, Robin? Shall we blow this Popsicle stand?”
“This what?”
“Old Earth saying. Don’t worry about it. Shall we get out of here?”
“Where would we go? Do you know where the Excalibur is?”
“Not at the moment. But I can bring us to Bravo Station. I’m sure Shelby will be happy to see us, and then we wait there and see if we can reconnect with the ship.”
Robin thought a moment and then nodded. “Okay. Okay, that makes sense.” She lifted Cwansi up and turned him around so that he was draped across her shoulder, then she walked over to McHenry. “Get us out of here.”
“What about you?” Mark said to Indi. “Do you want to come with us?”
“Me? No.” She smiled. “I am Thallonian. My place is here. Do not worry about me: I am quite sure I will find something worthwhile with which to occupy my time.”
Impulsively, Robin reached out and hugged her. Cwansi let out a small squeal as he was momentarily squished between the two women. “Thank you for everything,” Robin whispered into her ear.
“It was my honor.”
She stepped away from Indi and took her place next to McHenry. “I’m sorry, Cwansi,” she said to her son. “You would have done a wonderful job ruling this place.”
“Who knows?” said McHenry. “He’ll be around for quite some time. Anything can happen in the future. Perhaps he’ll return here when he’s an adult and wind up taking over the whole planet. Anything’s possible.”
“That would be wonderful.”
“Okay, then.” He tossed a salute to Indi. “Take care of yourself.”
“I will.”
McHenry closed his eyes, envisioned Bravo Station, and willed them to go there.
Nothing happened.
His eyes opened to slits and he glanced around. They were still in the living room. Indi looked mildly puzzled. “Is something supposed to happen?” she said. “Should you disappear?”
“Yes, we should,” said McHenry.
“I don’t understand.” Robin was staring in confusion at McHenry. “Why are we still here? Why didn’t you transport us to Bravo?”
“I’m not sure . . . No, wait. Actually, I am,” he said grimly. “It’s Q. He’s blocking my transport ability.”
“How is he doing that?”
“He’s Q, Robin. He can do pretty much anything he conceives of. And if he wants to make sure that we stay here, then we’re stuck.”
McHenry stepped away from her and walked toward the wall. He leaned against it and then, to Robin’s surprise, slammed his fist into it as he let out a loud curse. She was astounded, since she had never seen McHenry display any sort of temper, especially in such an overt manner. It was just the single burst of anger, bu
t once he had shouted, he seemed to calm down. She went over to him and rested her hand on his back. “It’s all right,” she said softly.
“No. It’s not all right. It’s anything but all right. Don’t you see, Robin? If Q is forcing us to stay here, then he’s got some sort of plans for us, and we don’t have the faintest idea what they are.”
“We’ll figure it out,” insisted Robin.
“Provided we’re given the opportunity. This is Q we’re talking about. There is no reason to assume that he will give us any sort of warning before—”
It was at that moment that McHenry began to feel it. The floor beneath his feet was shaking rhythmically. For an instant he thought it was some sort of earthquake, but then he realized that the beating was too steady. Something was marching toward them. Something huge.
The closer it drew, the more distinctive and recognizable it became. It was the sound of marching feet. Hundreds of them, by the sound of it. An entire army was coming in the direction of the house, and there was no doubt in McHenry’s mind as to who exactly was overseeing it.
Robin clutched Cwansi to her, her eyes widening in alarm. “Mark, what’s happening?”
“It’s Q. It has to be.” He was heading toward the door, not the least bit thrilled by the prospect of what he would see when it opened. “Stay in here. Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.” Yet he knew that he was simply being brave. He didn’t actually have the faintest idea how he was going to “handle it.” There was no predicting what Q was sending their way, and if it was an army of a thousand soldiers, McHenry was reasonably sure he could not simply wish them away, even if his powers were functioning. Which was another major problem, because Q had divorced him from his ability to transport himself, Robin, and Cwansi off New Thallon. He assumed that Q had done so with absolutely no effort. All of this was looking extremely bad. Part of him prayed that the Excalibur would suddenly show up out of nowhere and beam them off the planet.