Sulu stared in disbelief, unable to speak. And then, finally, he managed to push out a word:
“Demora,” he whispered.
She vomited once more, fingers clutching the edge of the vat spasmodically. Her eyes were caked shut with the liquid from the vat.
And then, the years falling away, sounding like a child of six, she said, “Daddy . . . I don’t feel so good. . . .”
* * *
“Incoming hail from the Enterprise,” said Rand tonelessly.
Anik of Matern didn’t seem particularly inclined to jump to it immediately. She’d had a feeling that this moment was inevitable and, now that it had arrived, she was oddly calm. “Scan them, Mr. Chafin,” she said.
“Scanning,” said Chafin. After a moment, he announced, “They’re on yellow alert. Their defensive systems are charged.”
“They’re hailing again,” Rand told her. “They sound impatient.”
Anik pursed her lips and stared at the screen a moment more. “All right. Put them on,” she said.
The bridge of the Enterprise appeared on the screen. Captain John Harriman was there, standing, his arms draped behind his back. Anik immediately noticed someone else there as well, someone who didn’t appear to belong with the rest of the bridge crew. It was an older man, an admiral. Then she recognized him: Admiral “Blackjack” Harriman. The captain’s father.
Ohhh, this is not good, thought Anik.
“Excelsior, this is Captain Harriman of the Enterprise. I would have appreciated a faster response,” said Harriman.
“Our apologies,” Anik said evenly. “This is Commander Anik. May we be of assistance.”
“Yes, you may. You can start by allowing me to speak with Captain Sulu.”
“I regret that he’s indisposed.”
“Indisposed? How?”
“A flare-up of an old condition,” deadpanned Anik. “He’s . . .” She hesitated, looking briefly at Rand. Janice shrugged. Anik turned back to Harriman and said, “He’s chasing people around with a sword. We hope to alleviate the situation shortly.”
Harriman was silent for a moment. “Commander, I’m not interested in playing games,” he said. “If you do not bring Captain Sulu to speak to me, I will go on the assumption that he on the planet’s surface. Would that be a safe assumption, Commander?”
Anik said nothing.
“Commander . . .” Harriman said warningly.
“Captain Sulu . . . is not available.”
Harriman sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “All right, Commander . . . have it your way. The captain is not available. That being the case, I must warn you that I have been empowered by Starfleet to order you to leave this vicinity immediately.”
“I . . . regret that I cannot comply at this time,” said Anik.
“Why not?”
“Orders.”
“Whose?”
“Captain Sulu’s.”
“Really,” said Harriman, unimpressed. “Then I wish to speak to him, now.”
“Captain Sulu is not available,” Anik told them.
Harriman started to make a response, but abruptly Admiral Harriman stepped forward into the foreground. “Commander . . . this is Admiral Harriman.”
“Good day, Admiral,” she said evenly.
Janice Rand watched Anik with growing admiration. The Maternian looked fragile owing to her nearly transparent skin, but there was absolutely no denying her iron force of will. She was not one to be easily intimidated.
“I’m not interested in playing word games, Commander,” he said brusquely. “It’s important that you understand the dynamics here. I will tell you what’s going on, and you can deny it if you wish, but I’ll appreciate wasting no more of anyone’s time. Captain Sulu has violated Starfleet orders and quarantine regs by bringing your ship to Askalon Five and then going to the surface himself. His behavior will not be tolerated. You’re acting in good conscience as his subordinate, and that’s fine. But now I am giving you a direct order as a Starfleet admiral: Return Captain Sulu to the Excelsior and then proceed to Starbase Nine, where Captain Sulu will be placed under arrest. Do you understand?”
Anik drew herself up straighter. “I do not know if that will be possible, sir.”
“I suggest you make it possible, Commander. Because if you defy me, that will be on your own head. You have five minutes to retrieve him. Enterprise out.”
The screen blinked out, but the Enterprise hung there in space, looking for all the world like it meant business.
“Commander Rand,” Anik said softly, “raise Captain Sulu. At the very least, he should be apprised of the situation.”
Rand nodded and immediately sent a signal to Sulu’s wrist communicator . . .
. . . which was, at that moment, being ground underneath a large heel of an even larger foot.
* * *
On the surface of Askalon V, the shuttlecraft Galileo sat unmoving and, apparently, ineffectual.
Inside, the computer kept careful track of the passage of time.
* * *
Thor stepped back from the communicator, examining the busted equipment with pride.
Rogers, who had just entered the room, nodded approvingly. He had a very sizable phaser rifle strapped to his back, and it looked very impressive.
“We have an arsenal down here as well,” Taine informed Sulu. “Some charming toys.”
Sulu wasn’t listening. He was crouched on the floor, clutching the gasping body of Demora to him. Nude, she had been trembling with cold, and Sulu had removed his jacket and wrapped it around her. Her teeth were chattering so violently she couldn’t even say another word.
There was so much he wanted to say to her . . . so much he couldn’t believe. He thought she’d been dead. He’d been at her funeral, for God’s sake, her body reduced to ashes. He’d come to Askalon V seeking some sort of cosmic truth and understanding, and instead he’d gotten an insane riddle. She was alive, shaking in his arms, and he was so overwrought with emotion that he had no idea how to begin to handle it. He settled for patting her hair, feeling all the time as if he were treating her like a puppy. He couldn’t let the depth of his feelings be displayed in these circumstances; not until he and Demora were safely out of it.
Rogers looked less than happy with the situation, and he gave Taine a sufficiently angry glance that Sulu could discern his mind-set immediately. “This whole thing is getting worse and worse,” he muttered to Taine.
“You worry too much,” Taine replied. “Their instruments won’t be able to detect life readings, and his communicator is dead. If they send more people to look for him, they won’t find him. And that will be the end of the illustrious career of Captain Sulu.”
“You’re insane,” said Sulu.
Taine smiled slightly. “No. I’m in charge. So . . . do you remember years ago, Captain, when you expected me to explain to you the details behind my ‘schemes.‣ Do you?”
“Yes.”
“And I didn’t, did I. However . . . time has passed. I’ve mellowed somewhat. Surviving the near-fatal crash of a shuttlecraft years ago tends to do that to you . . . tends to change your outlook.”
“You don’t have to tell me. I know what’s going on.” He tried to steady Demora’s trembling.
“Really?” said Taine in surprise. “Now, that would be a switch. The hero giving the villain the secret behind the plot. Those are our respective positions, are they not? You the valiant hero, I the hissable villain. Tell me, O hero . . . what’s going on.”
“This . . . all this,” Sulu said, gesturing to the vats and the vast room, “is similar to the mechanisms on an amusement-park planet where I took shore leave twenty-odd years ago. They create cellular castings of people or objects, with built-in mechanisms capable of reading the thoughts of the subjects and developing them to order.”
“Close,” said Taine. “Not quite, however. You have heard, I presume, of cloning?”
“Of course.
Growing a genetic copy from a cell.” He thought of Dr. McCoy’s recent health problems. “Mostly it’s used to supply new organs; organ banks with vital organs cloned from the originals keep them available for recipients.”
“Not ambitious enough. Nowhere near ambitious enough. All this,” Taine said, gesturing around, “was created, we believe, by an offshoot race from the same one who created that ‘amusement park‣ planet you speak so fondly of. But they were a warlike, conquest-minded race. They were not interested in using their technology to develop harmless, cellular cast synthetic creatures. They wanted genuine, living, breathing beings. They wanted clones that they could develop into an army. An army of workers. An army of soldiers. Whatever they were needed for, they could do.
“The drawback with cloning has always been the length of time involved. If you want a twenty-year-old, you have to take twenty years to grow one. It doesn’t spring up overnight, at least not in all modern science.
“But here . . . oh, but here . . . it does. As instantly as whatever you encountered on the amusement-park planet did.”
Sulu cast his mind back, remembering how the samurai, for instance, had leaped into full-blown existence literally seconds after Sulu’s thoughts had drifted that way.
“Sturdier, more dynamic . . . in every way, superior to the simple castings of the artificial beings. As near as we can determine, the practice of unrestrained cloning led to a great war on this world. By the time it was done, the city was in ruins, and only the clones survived . . . to die off after a time, or kill each other off.
“Because the clones were not perfect, you see. They had no restraint. They were uncivilized. They were ideal if you wanted an attack by a pack of mad dogs. Anything of greater restraint or finesse than that . . . and there were problems. I suspect that was their downfall Oh, this is all speculation, you understand.” He made a dismissive gesture. “But speculation based on our research. Research made in other worlds, at other sites. Hints, references, all manner of indications as to where this world might be. When Ling Sui . . .”
“You mean Susan,” corrected Sulu. For some reason the correction made him feel a little smug.
But Taine looked at him archly. “Ling Sui. Susan Ling.
Any of the other half-dozen names she used. I doubt she even remembered what her real name was anymore by the time she died.” He leaned forward, looking at Sulu contemplatively. “You really know so very, very little. Don’t you get it yet? Ling Sui and I were partners. Explorers. We went from world to world, working various digs, taking what we could find and selling it to the highest bidder. And in one world we found key information about the cloning technology hidden on another world.
“But Ling Sui decided to get greedy, to try and cut me out. She thought she would sell the information to the highest bidder all on her own. But I caught up with her . . . caught up with her in the city of Demora. You interfered and delayed things, but I eventually caught up with her. Oh yes, I did, before she could sell it.”
And from around his neck he removed a locket. Sulu recognized it instantly: It was the locket that Ling Sui had been wearing. It glittered green at him, as green as her eyes had been.
“We . . . renewed our partnership shortly thereafter, for the brief time it took for me to retrieve what she had stolen from me. Ultimately, there were no hard feelings, even though we went our separate ways after that . . . she to continue exploring and turning up new things to sell. And myself on the quest that eventually led me here, a year ago. It took that long, Captain. It’s rare that you see that sort of dedication. We’ve spent a year exploring everything that was down here, discoveries that would amaze you. Getting the equipment up and running. Producing experiments in cloning, using our own genetic material as the sample. Some experiments have been more successful than others, I’ll grant you, and we had many early failures. But we’ve been learning. At this point we can grow a clone to full growth in just under two minutes. Unfortunately they’re difficult—impossible—to control. Furthermore, their cellular makeup tends to decay after about ten Earth days and they decompose. Not good for the long term. But we’re getting there.”
“And what’s your plan?” said Sulu sarcastically. “To conquer the galaxy with a horde of clone warriors?”
“Oh, hardly anything so grandiose. However, a Tholian faction is most interested. We’ve had initial contact with them, opened the lines of communication. They’re taken by the notion of armies upon armies of clone warriors. Of course, the Tholians keep trying to give us deadlines, and complain when we don’t meet them. They’re such sticklers for punctuality.”
“I never thought I’d say this,” said Sulu, “but Ling Sui was fortunate to have passed away when she did. Certainly preferable to being caught up in any more of your insanity.”
“We were two of a kind, Ling Sui and I. At core, we both understood that. You see, Captain . . . what you got involved with was nothing more than a heightened lovers‣ quarrel.”
Sulu looked at him oddly. “Lovers‣ quarrel? You were trying to kill each other.”
“Of course. In case you didn’t notice, Ling Sui was not one for half measures. But the fact is that I had prior claim to her, Captain . . . not to mention subsequent claim. Or haven’t you figured it out yet.”
“Figured out what?”
And Taine grinned lopsidedly. “Demora is my daughter. Not yours. Mine.”
* * *
Janice Rand looked up from the comm board. “No response, Anik,” she said, making no effort to hide her concern.
“Scan for life-forms,” Anik instructed.
“Scanning,” said Chafin. “Not picking up anything. Could be interference. Could be . . .”
“Could be he’s dead,” said Anik tonelessly.
The Starship Enterprise sat there in front of them, looking like she meant serious business.
* * *
On the bridge of the Enterprise, the tension was rather palpable. And it was solidly between the admiral and the captain.
“Hope I didn’t overstep my bounds, Captain,” said the admiral formally. From his tone, he probably thought he was being tongue-in-cheek. To his mild surprise, however, Captain Harriman didn’t seem to share in the amusement.
“I am aware that, as senior officer on this vessel, you have the privilege of stepping in where you see fit,” said Harriman. “I would appreciate some restraint, however, when possible.”
The admiral blinked in surprise, and then his eyes narrowed slightly. “I have no problem with that,” he said flatly, “as long as you get the job done.”
“Don’t be concerned on that score, Admiral.”
“Don’t give me need to be, Captain.”
Upon hearing the exchange, Magnus and Chaput exchanged slightly nervous looks.
Commander Dane shifted uneasily in her chair, and Science Officer Thompson suddenly became intensely interested in the readings from her station.
And both Harrimans turned attention back to the screen.
Chapter Twenty-eight
SULU LAUGHED.
Demora was still clutching him, her mind whirling in confusion. But Taine’s claim penetrated the haze. She looked up at Sulu with a mixture of befuddlement and fear, and she was even more puzzled when he started to laugh. Taine had a variety of responses in mind when he dropped the bombshell on Sulu, but that hadn’t been one of them. “What’s so funny?” he demanded.
“What’s so funny? You’re a fool, that’s what’s so funny.”
“I’m not the one who raised the daughter of another man thinking she was my own.”
“Neither am I. Doctors did a genetic testing on her when she first came to me. She’s mine, Taine. I’m her father; it’s incontrovertible.”
Rogers looked to Taine, reacting with clear surprise. “You said—”
“Be quiet,” he ordered Rogers and looked back to Sulu. “You’re lying. I know she’s mine.”
“You’re wrong. What, did you think I would spend all the
se years without knowing for sure? I’ve known since the first day who her father is. And it’s not you.”
“You’re lying!”
Taine lashed out with one booted foot. Sulu raised an arm, managing to ward off part of the blow, catching it on his shoulder. He swayed, but didn’t go down.
“She’s mine,” Taine said in a hoarse whisper. “I recognized her from the moment I saw her picture on the news broadcasts. You remember . . . the ones that went out everywhere when Kirk died. And there was Demora, big as life, shown clutching her fallen comrade next to her on the bridge of the Enterprise. The image of her mother, I knew it instantly. And sure enough, her name was reported as Demora Sulu. I laughed over that one, oh, how I laughed.” He raised his voice, addressing his associates. “Didn’t we laugh, gentlemen?”
Rogers was looking extremely discomfited, and Sulu couldn’t blame him. Taine was acting more and more erratically, his sanity being called increasingly into question.
“Look, Taine,” he began.
But Taine was paying no attention to him. “So when I discovered that the Enterprise was going to be in this sector, I put up a distress beacon I’d picked up during my wanderings and programmed it with Chinese, in the hope that her interest would be piqued. It was a long shot, I’ll grant you, but I’ve spent my life taking long shots. And it worked. You can’t argue with success.”
“Or dementia,” Sulu shot back.
As if Sulu hadn’t spoken, Taine said, “We captured her, brought her down here, and replaced her with a clone . . . not quite with the alacrity of your ‘amusement-park planet,‣ but speedily and effectively. Oh, given ten days or so the body would have fallen apart, the fakery revealed. But I was reasonably certain the body would be disposed of, either buried or cremated, so that our little secret remained safe.”
Sulu was silent.
“Well, Captain? Nothing to say?”
“Only one thing: How long have I been down here?”
“Oh, under the impression that if you’re gone for too long, someone will send help? I wouldn’t stake too much to that if I were you. They won’t find you down here; we’re too well shielded. But in answer to your question . . . it’s been precisely fifty-seven minutes. I hope that helps.”