Double Helix #5 - Double or Nothing

by Peter David

  He plunged into the heart of the Omega 9, the glistening circuitry singing gently to him. It was the first time that he himself had done it, and it was glorious, it was like nothing else. He floated there, feeling as if he had somehow managed to return to his mother’s womb. There was peace, there was secur­ity, there was…

  Darkness. Something was moving in around him, something that seemed alien to the Omega 9. Kendrow’s consciousness looked around, tried to perceive, tried to understand…

  And a voice echoed all around him, a voice that said, I’d been trying to get your attention, David. Causing glitches here and there, doing what I could in my own small way…how kind of you to finally brave the interior of the Omega 9…it took you quite some time, didn’t it…but you always were a bit of a coward at heart, you know that, don’t you, David…?

  Kendrow looked around frantically. It was every­where, the dark and cold, and he called out, Who is it? Who’s there?!?

  I brushed against the Omega 9, David…with Darg and the others standing there, and you, and all you bright people, and you didn’t spot it. Didn’t spot the final connection. What did you think, Dave…that you were the first person to hit upon the idea of putting his consciousness into the Omega 9? You always were more of a follower than a leader…

  And then he understood. Fro…Frobisher…but…but you’re dead…

  Yes, Dave. I was dead. But you know, Dave…I’m feeling a lot better now…

  The laughter was everywhere and Kendrow screamed as the darkness enveloped him.

  Picard rolled over onto his back and then Gerrid Thul was upon him. He was straddling Picard, his hands at Picard’s throat, and he slammed the captain’s head against the floor. Stars exploded behind Picard’s eyes, and Thul wasn’t letting up, not for a second.

  “I made a son…and you destroyed him. I created the perfect virus…and you destroyed my plan to im­plement it,” and as he spoke the pressure of his hands upon Picard’s throat was steady and unyielding. “You call me the destroyer? It’s you, Picard! You are the bringer of pain! You are the slayer of dreams! You!”

  The test tube rolled out from Picard’s pocket.

  It made a gentle, tinkling sound as it rolled. Thul cast a confused glance in the direction of the tube…

  And the distraction was all Picard needed. He broke Thul’s grip and shoved as hard as he could, sending Thul off-balance as he gasped and drew in air. Thul tumbled to the side, hit the floor hard.

  Picard heard something break.

  He clambered to his feet and saw Thul, on his back, starting to tremble. Instantly Picard understood. Thul had landed atop the test tube and crushed it…and the Double Helix virus was rampaging through his body. But it was doing so in highly concentrated form.

  Gerrid Thul, creator of the Double Helix, writhed in the grasp of his own creation. His back arched, his tongue lolled out, and his eyes went wide with horror as he realized what had happened. For all his speeches about not caring about life, about being dead already, he certainly seemed to have the expression of someone who was suddenly terrified about being hurled into oblivion. Or perhaps it was simply the way that it was occurring.

  Thul’s eyes shrivelled, collapsed into their sockets, his tongue began to blacken even as he voicelessly screamed his terror, the skin started to pucker and blister, pus oozing out from sores that had appeared spontaneously all over.

  Picard was transfixed, and then it suddenly occurred to him that if the damned thing became airborne, this was going to be the perfect time to get the hell out of there. He tore his gaze away from Thul and ran like mad.

  His legs and arms pumping, Picard dashed down the corridor. He hoped that he remembered where the docking area was, and also prayed that he would be able to find a means of escape once he got there. The sphere rumbled around him and he knew there wasn’t much time left as the systems ate themselves, one explosion feeding upon another. Bleakly, he wondered what had happened to Calhoun and Vara Syndra, or Vandelia, or whatever her name was. He could only pray that they were all right and that somehow they were going to manage to get them­selves clear.

  He saw a sign marked for one of the docking areas, turned right, and saw huge double doors that were just sitting open, which led to the docking ports. He dashed out into the vast docking area which opened out to the interior of the sphere. From that viewpoint, he could see flame erupting from spots throughout the sphere. The far side of the sphere was already a massive wall of flame, and it was spreading wildly. He was witnessing the death of a technological mar­vel. From a purely scientific and even aesthetic view, it was a tremendous waste and tragedy.

  All this he saw from where he was standing. What he did not see were any ships. He spotted the last of the small transports moving away, and there was nothing left in his immediate area. There were other docking ports, but they were too far away for him to get to in time.

  He saw the firewall racing toward him from either side. There was nowhere to go.

  He took a deep breath, faced his death, and thought about a book his mother had read to him several times in his youth: Peter Pan. He thought of the time that Peter was crouched on the rock, having just been stabbed by Hook, unable to fly, unable to save him­self, and he had looked at the rising tide and mused philosophically about his impending doom.

  “To die,” Picard whispered, “would be a great ad­venture.”

  At which point he promptly disappeared in a haze of sparkles.

  Seconds later, he materialized in what appeared to be a small freighter. He looked around in confu-sion…and then a smile broke across his face. “I should have known.”

  “Yes, you should have,” Calhoun said reprovingly from the control panel. He hadn’t even bothered to turn around. “I was on my last sweep of the place looking for you. You certainly took your sweet time getting somewhere that I could see you. Thanks to you, I’ve had to cut this a lot thinner than I would have liked.”

  “It’s getting thinner still. Where’s the woman?”

  “Dead,” Calhoun said tonelessly. “Darg killed her.

  But considering there’s not two molecules of him left to rub together, I doubt he’ll be hurting anyone else. Where’s Thul?”

  “The same, but more grisly. Get us out of here.”

  “That’s why you’ve been captain longer than me. You know how to make the tough decisions.”

  Even as he spoke, he was sending the freighter hurtling toward one of the few areas that was not completely aflame. The sphere was collapsing on it­self, gigantic flaming shards smashing into one anoth­er. Calhoun coolly maneuvered the shuttle between the debris, dodging left and right as he called out, “Hold on. This is going to be a little tricky.”

  He saw an escape route and went for it, and the freighter darted forward just before a huge piece of debris could smash into it. Then they were clear of the sphere, moving away from it faster and faster as the last of the explosions utterly consumed it.

  Other ships were all around, scattered, confused, unsure of where to go or what to do. Then, after a few moments, they slowly started to move away from the area of the destruction. Picard watched them go, shaking his head, and—like an oldtime policeman—he said, “Show’s over. Nothing more to see here.”

  “Yes,” Calhoun said slowly, “yes…there is.”

  He was angling his freighter toward one particular ship. “What is it, Mac?”

  “That’s Thul’s ship. But you said he’s dead.”

  “He is.”

  “Then I’m going to take a shot in the dark,” Cal­houn said.

  He touched several controls and Picard heard the distinctive whine of phasers powering up. “What are you doing?”

  But Calhoun had opened up a ship-to-ship channel. “Lodec. I have you targeted. I’m coming in at 273 Mark 2. This is it, Lodec.”

  There was dead silence as Picard looked in puzzle­ment at Calhoun…and then Lodec’s voice came back over the channel. “Hello, Calhoun.”

&nbs
p; “Do you want an opportunity to fight back…or should I just blow you out of space?”

  “Calhoun, back off,” Picard said sharply, “this is absurd—”

  Calhoun looked at him with blazing eyes and said, “No. This is personal. Well, Lodec?”

  Again a moment of silence, and then Lodec said, “I was going to let you go, you know. In the corridor. I saw you there, and I was all set to keep my silence. And you had to draw on me, so that I thought you were going to shoot me. You left me no choice. But it’s all about choices, isn’t it, Calhoun? So fine. I leave you the choice you didn’t leave me. Shoot or don’t. It’s of no consequence to me. Death will just silence the voices that have been crying out in my head for so many years. Do as you like.”

  With that, he cut the connection.

  Picard said nothing. He simply watched Calhoun, who stared out at the ship that was hanging there, a huge target. It offered no defense. It would have been so easy.

  And then, unmolested…the ship moved off. a mo­ment later, it kicked into warp space and was gone.

  Picard let out a slow, relieved breath, and he patted Calhoun on the back. “Mac…believe it or not…I know how difficult it is to let go of the need for revenge. But—and I don’t mean to sound patronizing here—I think you’ve taken a tremendous step forward in your

  personal growth and—”

  “The phaser banks are empty,” Calhoun said.

  “What?” Picard leaned forward and looked. It was true. The phasers had powered up, but had been un­able to sustain it.

  “They’re empty. And it’s not just them. Thul must have drained the ship’s systems. Engines, life support, all going. He had quite a knack for thinking ahead. Here was a man who thought, Well, just in case Calhoun and/or Picard escape, I’ll leave them just enough power to get away. To make them think they’re safe. And then all the systems will…”

  The lights in the freighter suddenly went out.

  “… cut out,” he concluded.

  On earth, the closing ceremonies for the bicentennial went without a hitch. As they did, Jellico turned to Nechayev and said, “Well, well…it would appear that we got all concerned for nothing.”

  “Apparently so. Unless, of course, someone just saved the galaxy as we know it from total disaster and we’re simply unaware of it.”

  “I doubt it,” Jellico replied. “I mean, I think I’d know if something like that had happened.”

  “Yes,” said Nechayev. “It’d be fairly difficult to slip something like that past you, Eddie.”

  Picard and Calhoun spent the next several minutes seeing what they could possibly do to reverse the situation, but nothing seemed to present itself. Fur­thermore, all the other ships had moved out by that point. Not that their being present would have offered any great options. Calhoun and Picard had already been named as traitors and enemies by Thul. Finally, options expended, they simply sat there, looking at each other.

  “Had you already decided not to kill Lodec before you saw the phasers were out? Or did you notice that the phasers were out and realize that the decision was out of your hands?”

  Calhoun said nothing.

  “You’re not going to answer, are you.”

  “Picard,” Calhoun said slowly, “you are probably one of the brightest men I’ve ever met. You’ve known me for twenty years. You know my background. You know what I stand for. And you know that, ulti-mately—even if there are some bumps along the way—I’m going to end up doing the right thing. So I think you really know the answer to that question, don’t you.”

  “Nice try, Mac.”

  “All right…I suppose I knew I wouldn’t get away with it that easily. The truth, Picard…is that I was in the same situation once before. The indecision led to my resigning from Starfleet because the universe was very black and white to me. This time around…I have to admit that, once again, I don’t know what I would have done. I still might have given in to the impulse for vengeance. Or I might not. I’m just not sure. But at least this time, I’m not going to let the lack of knowledge get to me. It took me a long time and a lot of learning to realize that it’s all right not to know everything…including every aspect of oneself. That it’s acceptable to live within the shades of gray on occasion. Good enough?”

  “Not really. But I suppose it will have to do.”

  They sat there for a time more, and then Calhoun said, “What are you thinking about?”

  “All the people I’ve known. All the opportunities I’ve had in my life, and whether I would do it all the same. About Thul’s son, and whether his death could have been prevented…whether I could have done anything differently, for if I had, all this could have been avoided. Lives wouldn’t have been wasted and lost, and incredible forays of ingenuity wouldn’t have been dedicated to such a useless endeavor as a hollow need to destroy in the quest for useless revenge. I’m thinking about the universe in general, of free will, and of man’s place within that universe and whether we really have a place at all, or how much we matter in the grand scheme of things. I’m wondering…what the ultimate answers to all reality are, and whether we’ll ever get to know them.” He paused, feeling the chill of space beginning to work its way into his bones. “And you? What are you thinking about?”

  “I’m thinking about how nice it would be if the Excalibur showed up and rescued us.”

  Picard laughed softly to himself, starting to feel a bit lightheaded as the carbon dioxide began to build up. And at that moment, space in front of them rippled, a hole in the spacetime continuum opened up, and the starship Excalibur dropped into normal space a mere five hundred kilometers away.

  Picard gaped at the sight and then turned to Cal­houn, who maintained an absolute deadpan as he said, “I don’t know about the ultimate ones, but I guess some answers come more quickly than others.”

  XXIV.

  CALHOUN AND SHELBY were escorting Picard and Riker to the transporter room. “Sela’s already been beamed aboard the Enterprise, as per your request, Captain,” said Calhoun. “I’m afraid there’s been no change in her condition.”

  “I’m hoping that Starfleet will be able to give her the help she needs,” Picard said. “Perhaps even leave her better than when she started. No matter what it is that she’s become…she remains the daughter of an old, dear friend. If there’s any way to salvage the influence of the good person that Tasha Yar was, then we have to take it.”

  “Looking for the best in people. It’s comforting to know that some things about you don’t change, Captain,” Calhoun said.

  “It is equally comforting, Captain, to know that some things about you do change,” Picard replied with a carefully neutral expression, which drew a wary grin from Calhoun. Picard continued, “Number One…how went your temporary assignment to the Excalibur?”

  “Good question,” seconded Calhoun. “Commander Shelby, did you two get on with each other? Or were there any problems I should know about?”

  Shelby and Riker cast a glance at each other, and then Shelby said, “Actually…it went about as expec­ted.”

  “It was a learning experience…for all concerned,” Riker added.

  “It would appear, Captain Calhoun,” Picard said, “that the crew here is beginning to imitate your rather enigmatic way of expressing yourself. Perhaps you—”

  He stopped in his tracks.

  A dark haired woman was approaching him. And she looked like…but…it couldn’t possibly be…

  “Leaving, Commander? I hope you enjoyed your stay. Well, have to rush. Good day to you,” said Morgan Lefler as she breezed past.

  Picard gaped after her, then looked back to Riker. “What was…was that…how?”

  “Captain,” Riker said in a firm but understanding voice, “I’ve learned that around this ship…it’s best not to ask too many questions.”

  “Is it finished yet?”

  Burgoyne lay on the examination bed in sickbay while Doctor Selar studied the readouts. “Almost, Burgoyne. But le
t me see if I understand this. Medical scans and similar procedures are privileged information…but you want me to post this scan publicly? To everyone on the ship?”

  “Yes. That’s correct,” Burgoyne confirmed. “I’m tired of everyone congratulating me on my pregnancy. It’s gotten very old, very quickly. And some of them even think I’m being coy when I deny it. So if I just publicize it in one shot, with the scan confirming that I’m not pregnant, that should put an end to it.”

  “That sounds like a commendable plan. I wish I could oblige.”

  “But Selar, I told you, I’m waiving the confidential­ity—”

  “It is not a matter of that. But if you wish to circu­late this scan as proof of what you are claiming, that is not going to be possible.”

  “What?” Burgoyne was completely confused. “What are you talking about?”

  “You are pregnant.”

  “What?” The blood drained from Burgoyne’s face. “But…but I can’t be…”

  “You are. Look for yourself.”

  Burgoyne took one look at the readout and fainted dead away.

  Selar stood there and regarded hir with very mild amusement. And then McHenry emerged from hiding nearby and grinned down at the unconscious Hermat. “Well, well, Burgy. You told me you were pregnant, except you really weren’t…and I passed out…and you teased me about it. So now, with the good doctor’s help here, you get told you’re pregnant, except you’re really not…but you handled the unexpected fake news as well as I did. For some reason, I find that very comforting. Don’t you think that’s comfort­ing?”

  “I think you are all insane, and I think I am just as insane for cooperating,” sniffed Selar. And she turned away to hide the slight smile that she couldn’t quite repress.