STAR TREK: NF 13 - Gods Above

  “Basically, yes,” Calhoun said reluctantly. “If we fear failure ... if we believe that the Beings are superior to us, or can destroy us ... then we more or less guarantee our own defeat.”

  “Now, there’s a challenge,” said Shelby with a significant lack of enthusiasm. “It’s like saying, ‘Don’t think of pink elephants.’ ”

  “But it’s more involved than that,” said Mueller. “What you’ve been saying is that the Beings—if we’re correct about this—are drawing their strength from the Danteri. It almost doesn’t matter if we believe in them or not, because the Danteri do. In order to dampen the strength of the Beings ...”

  “We would have to cut off their energy at the source,” said Spock. “We would have to—in short—obliterate the Danteri.”

  There was a momentary silence, and then Calhoun said what he suspected they all figured he’d say: “I’m not seeing a downside of that.”

  “Mac,” Shelby said, not without sympathy, “I know better than anyone here how you feel about the Danteri. But I can’t believe that even you would advocate genocide.”

  He grimaced and then slowly nodded. “You’re right,” he admitted. “Besides, just to be pragmatic about it ... I very much doubt the Beings would simply stand by and allow us to annihilate their root of psychic sustenance. That still leaves us, though, trying to determine the best way to proceed.”

  “We’d be wise to determine it sooner rather than later,” said Kebron. “My suspicion is that the Tholians weren’t bluffing. That they’ve forces and allies who will be showing up here before long to launch a full-out assault. Except they’ll already be showing up with the knowledge that the Beings easily destroyed one vessel. That will sow the seeds of doubt which the Beings will bring to full bloom, destroying those who oppose them, elevating Danteri worship, and very likely convincing assorted races that they should join the Danteri in bowing down to this pantheon of gods.”

  They all stared at him.

  “When the hell did he get so chatty?” demanded Si Cwan.

  “Ah, Si Cwan,” laughed Kebron. “How I’ve missed you.”

  “You hate me!”

  “Oh, why drag along childish feuds into phases of maturity.”

  Si Cwan turned to Calhoun and, indicating Kebron, asked, “Did he eat ambrosia, too?”

  “I’ll explain it later, Ambassador.”

  “Yes, it’s really an amusing story,” said Kebron. “You see, in the life cycle of—”

  “Later!” Calhoun said in annoyance. He sagged into the nearest chair. “You know, I’m really of mixed feelings on that. Genocidal concerns aside, part of me would dearly love to just stand aside and watch these angry races show up, trying to blow the Danteri to hell and gone. Grozit, we could even justify it on Prime Directive terms.”

  “Perhaps,” Shelby agreed. “But there’s every possibility the Beings would triumph, making matters even worse than they already are.”

  “I know, I know.”

  “Wait ... wait a minute,” Gleau said abruptly. He pointed at the bladed weapon that Kebron had laid in the middle of the table early on in the meeting. “That thing is one of their conduits?”

  “As near as we can determine, yes. But apparently only they can actually utilize it—”

  “We don’t have to utilize it,” said Gleau. “All we have to do is use it to determine the frequency patterns that it operates on and taps into.”

  “What ... ?”

  “Oh!” Burgoyne’s eyes widened. “I see where you’re going with this. Once we know those patterns, we can broadcast ‘white noise’ through the sensor arrays.”

  “A logical notion,” said Spock. “It might very well serve to scramble the Beings’ ability to ‘feed’ off the mental energies of the Danteri. Cut them off from their source of power.”

  Burgoyne’s mind was clearly racing through the logistics. “The thing is, it’s going to need both of the starships, one to cover each side of the planet. Otherwise the planet’s own surface would block the white noise from affecting that side which is opposite the starship.”

  “And if we do all that,” Calhoun said, “then the likelihood is that the Beings will come after us. Can this ‘white noise’ be used to block out whatever energies we might feed them ourselves, based upon doubts ... ?”

  “We’d be spreading our resources too thin,” said Burgoyne. “We really need to focus on their prime energy source, the Danteri. We try to do too much, we’ll wind up accomplishing too little.”

  “All right then. So they’ll be deprived of their initial energy source, but they’ll seek to draw energy from our own doubts and beliefs that they’re invincible. Is that basically it?”

  “Why are you attacking them?” asked Moke.

  The question brought everything to a halt. Calhoun looked at the boy and said, “Because they’re dangerous, Moke. Because they represent a threat to us ... to you ... to everyone and anyone who won’t live in a galaxy where the Beings are worshipped. They attacked and killed people on this ship. They’ve brainwashed Lieutenant Soleta ... and an entire world besides. One of them attacked and nearly killed Lieutenant Kebron ...”

  “And Kalinda and I as well,” said Si Cwan.

  “So you see, Moke, they have to be dealt with, before it gets worse.”

  “I guess,” said Moke, then paused and added, “but it’s a shame.”

  Calhoun tried to come up with a response to that, but couldn’t. Because he knew that Moke was right. It was a shame. A damned shame.

  But it had to be done.

  As long as they didn’t get themselves killed doing it.

  V.

  Mueller stood in the turbolift with Gleau as it whisked them toward the transporter room that would bring them back to the Trident. “That was good work you did back there,” she said. “I want you to be the point man between us and Excalibur on this. Work with Engineering Chief Dunn in making certain that he coordinates with Burgoyne and the Excal’s chief, Mitchell.”

  “This is killing you, isn’t it,” Gleau said.

  She had been staring straight ahead, but now she turned and stared at him in open bewilderment. “Killing me? In what respect?”

  “Between M’Ress and her complaints about me, and your own attitudes, you must have been hoping I would step aside, perhaps even transfer off.” He gave her a smarmy smile. “Yet now I turn around and prove my worth to the ship. Made myself look pretty good. My guess is that bothers you no end.”

  “Your guess is completely wrong,” she informed him. “All I care about is the well-being of the Trident. You’re the science officer. You’re expected to be of use, not to fail.”

  “Expectations are one things. Hopes are something else. You were hoping ...”

  “Do not tell me my own mind, Lieutenant Commander,” Mueller told him stiffly. “My hopes are my own. They are not for public dissemination, and they’re certainly not yours to assume. Do I make myself clear? And wipe that smirk off your face before I rip it off.”

  “Oh, absolutely,” he said. The smirk diminished ... but was still there nevertheless.

  VI.

  Zak Kebron had remained behind in the conference lounge. He stared at the far wall for a long time, having turned the scythe over to Burgoyne so s/he could study it more closely. He rapped his thick fingers on the table for a while, and finally he managed to say, “I think you should know ... I’m sorry. Presuming you’re still standing there, that is. I’m sorry about what happened to you, Mark.

  “The truth is, I had some suspicions about who and what you were, and what you were capable of doing. I was very suspicious. But all I cared about was trying to ‘catch’ you somehow. Instead, I should have realized that you had some potentially great problems and tried to help you deal with it. Not just rat you out. You need a friend, and instead you got a suspicious head of security.

  “I’m very, very sorry. And ... I hope it means something.”

  Three decks away, watching the internal and e
xternal struggles of the Old Father, Mark McHenry was vaguely aware that something had been said that directly pertained to him, but he wasn’t sure what it might have been, and then dismissed it as not being of any real consequence.

  VII.

  Calhoun sat in his quarters on the couch, facing Moke in the chair opposite, watching the boy staring into space. “It’s going to be all right, Moke,” he said after a time.

  “I’d ...”

  “Yes?”

  “I’d finally stopped wondering. Y’know? Finally stopped.” He looked up at Calhoun with a distant sense of bewilderment. “Spent my whole life wondering what my father was like, but because of you ... because of how nice you’ve been to me ... I stopped wondering. And even in all those years where I did wonder ... I never thought he’d be ...” He paused. “What is he? What am I?”

  “He’s a different form of life, Moke. That’s all. Just as I am. Just as this ship is crowded with many different forms of life.”

  “Yes, but ... the things he can do ...”

  “I can’t do the things that Zak Kebron can do. And Kebron can’t do what Dr. Selar can do, and so on. Every different life-form is special, Moke. Grozit, even within the same life-form, everyone is special. Everyone has their own unique talents and abilities. There’s a lot to learn about Woden, and hopefully we’ll have the chance to learn it.”

  “And me. What about me?”

  “You’re a boy, Moke. A young boy.” He put a hand on Moke’s shoulder and smiled. “And you had some abilities that might have stemmed from him. Otherwise, nothing’s changed.”

  “Do you ... ?”

  He seemed stuck for completing the sentence. “Do I what, Moke?”

  “Do you think he loves me? Y’know. Dads love their sons. Do you think ... ?”

  “I could lie to you, Moke, but the truth is, I simply don’t know.”

  “Do you think he loved my mom?”

  Naturally Calhoun had no more idea of that than the previous question, but there was something in the boy’s face that seemed to indicate this answer was even more important. Calhoun nodded firmly. “I’m sure he did. And I’m sure he would have stayed with her if he could,” he added quickly, anticipating the next question.

  “Do you love me?”

  The question caught Calhoun off guard, although in retrospect he realized it shouldn’t have. “Me?”

  “Well, you basically act like my father. But you don’t ... y’know ... say it much.”

  “I’ve ... never been that demonstrative about such things, Moke. But ... yes. Yes, of course, I ... yes. I do. Like my own son. Actually ... I hardly ever got to know my own son. So you’re sort of a second chance to do things right.” He hesitated, then asked, “Okay?”

  “Okay,” said Moke.

  “Uhm ... look, Moke ... there are things I have to attend to now. Do you want to head over to—”

  “Can I stay here? In your quarters?” asked Moke. “I won’t touch anything, I promise. ...”

  “Sure. Absolutely,” said Calhoun. “If that’s what you want.”

  “Yeah. I would.”

  “Well ... all right.” He got up and walked out, leaving Moke still staring into space.

  Except he wasn’t.

  The Old Father stared back at him.

  “You shouldn’t have left her,” Moke said softly. “You really shouldn’t. You could’ve made our lives so much better.”

  Woden’s single eye looked wistful, and then he shrugged. “I’m sorry,” he said.

  “Yeah, well ... sorry isn’t always good enough,” said Moke.

  “I know,” said Woden. “But sometimes it’s all we have.”

  And then he faded from sight, leaving Moke alone.

  Meantime, Calhoun stood in the hallway just outside his quarters, leaning against the bulkhead. He suddenly felt more tired than he had in ages. It was obvious they were about to enter round two against the Beings, and it was more than likely there would not be a round three. There was no margin for error, and literally no room for doubt.

  “Are you all right?”

  He hadn’t even realized his eyes were closed, but when he opened them, Shelby was standing there. “I thought you were heading back to the Trident.”

  “I was. But I thought I’d swing by on the way over. I’m worried about you.”

  “About me. Why are you worried about me?”

  “Because someone has to be,” she said with a shrug. “I figure I’m elected.”

  He laughed softly and then rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I’m not entirely sure, but ... I think I may owe you an apology.”

  “That’s impressive,” she said, folding her arms. “I don’t believe I’ve ever heard that many qualifiers in one sentence.”

  “I think ... in some ways ... I feel as if I haven’t had a chance to get any solid ground beneath my feet since the first Excalibur blew up. As if I’ve just been flailing about, trying to get a hold on something firm, and not succeeding.”

  She paused. “And is that what our marriage is? A failed attempt to get some footing?”

  He chuckled. “No. No ... that’s the only thing I’ve done in the past year or so that I’m absolutely confident about.”

  “You’re confident in everything you do, Mac. Even when you know full well that it’s absolutely indefensible. That’s what I love about you.”

  “What you love about me?” He looked at her skeptically. “I thought it was the one aspect of my personality that always drove you the most insane.”

  “Calhoun, you’ve been driving me insane ever since your handling of the Kobayashi Maru set my career back a year.”

  “Ummm ... yes,” he sighed. “I’ve always felt kind of guilty about that.”

  “No, you didn’t. You still don’t, even to this day. Don’t you lie to me, you smug bastard,” she admonished with mock gravity. “You can do just about anything else, but don’t lie to me. If there’s one thing I don’t deserve, it’s that.”

  “You’re right. In fact, if there’s one thing you do deserve, it’s this.”

  And he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her passionately.

  Passing crewmen slowed, looked, and then walked quickly away, and one was heard to murmur, “Guess yellow alert means something different for officers than it does for us grunts.”

  DANTER

  SOLETA LAY BACK in the field of long grass, staring in leisurely fashion up at the sky. Her clothes were scattered about, but she wasn’t the least bit concerned over her lack of apparel. Thoth, similarly undraped, lay next to her, his head propped up with one hand. The sky was clear, no clouds, no hint of storms. It seemed one of those glorious days that would stretch on forever.

  “Why me?” she asked Thoth at length.

  “Why you what?”

  “Why have you taken such an interest in me? Me, of all the females you’ve encountered ... of all the ones you could have ...”

  “I was drawn to you by your intellect. And by your hurt. I sensed your inner turmoil and felt that you could truly benefit from the inner peace I could bring you.”

  “And you were right.” She smiled and ran her hand along the strong angle of his chin. “You were so right. I feel as if I could—”

  And suddenly Thoth pitched backward, grasping at his forehead. Soleta immediately sat up, consternation evident. “Thoth? What’s wrong? What—?”

  He fell forward, gasping, clutching at his chest.

  “What’s wrong?” she repeated, even more alarmed than before.

  “I ... I don’t know. My head ... feels like ...” Suddenly he gripped her by the shoulders. “Love me.”

  “What?” She tried to smile, although it wasn’t easy considering his agitated state. “In the mood again already? If you—”

  “Love me! Believe in me! Do you?”

  “You know I do!” Soleta was completely confused. “How could you not ... ?”

  “I can’t feel it! I can’t feel you. It’s ... it’s as if I?
??m blind ... I—”

  And suddenly there were flashes of light from all around them. One by one, then by the dozens, the Beings were springing into existence, all babbling in similar agitation to one another. Soleta quickly tugged on her clothes, but Thoth was wandering around, naked, looking like a flummoxed Greek statue, despite the fact that he was Egyptian.

  The voice of Artemis cut above the rest of them. “You feel it? You all feel it?!” There were nods, confused babbles of assent.

  “Feel what?” Soleta asked Thoth. “I don’t feel anything. Nothing’s changed. Nothing’s ...”

  “Everything’s changed! How can you not feel it!” His temper flared and he grabbed Soleta and shook her fiercely. “How is this happening? How is this—”

  “Stop it!” Soleta effortlessly yanked her arms out of his grasp. The move sent him off balance, and she came forward quickly and shoved him hard. Thoth stumbled back, and although he righted himself just in time to avoid falling over completely, he still gaped at Soleta as if seeing her for the first time.

  Soleta blinked several times, and was then filled with mortification. “I’m ... I’m so sorry, Thoth. I’ve no idea what came over me ... I ...”

  “Maybe she has had something to do with it,” Anubis said, pointing an angry finger at her. “Perhaps her dalliance with you, Thoth, has simply been a means of putting you off guard.”

  “Don’t be an ass, Loki.”

  “Anubis. I prefer Anubis—”

  “And I prefer that you go straight to Hades!” shouted Artemis. Nearby her, Tyr the swordsman and Hermes the messenger were nodding in agreement.

  “This is no time to turn against each other,” began Thoth.

  “What’s happening?” Soleta interrupted. “Tell me what’s happening. Perhaps I can—”

  Suddenly the combadge on Soleta’s uniform beeped at her. She looked confused, as if she’d forgotten it was there, or what it was for. She tapped it and said tentatively, “Yes?”