The Returned, Part III

by Peter David

  “Is that what you call it? I thought I was letting you down lightly, Soleta. I never expected that you—”

  “I said I’m sorry, Captain.” Soleta’s voice rose in her frustration and mortification. “I’m not sure what else I’m supposed to say.”

  “Just . . . don’t say anything,” Calhoun snapped at her. He slapped his communications badge onto his chest. “Not a word.” He leaned in toward her and waved his finger in her face. “You are not to tell anyone about this. Ever. Do you understand me? I swear, Soleta, if you do—”

  “I won’t.”

  “If you do, I’ll kill you. And I’m not using that term in a broad or metaphorical context. I will kill you, Soleta. Whether it’s with my bare hands or I blow you out of existence with a phaser, I haven’t decided yet. But I will kill you if you boast to anyone—”

  “Boast?” Her eyes widened in incredulity. Aware of the fact that she was still naked, she grabbed the sheet off the bed and covered herself. “Do you think I’m proud of what just happened?”

  “I have no idea what you are or even who you are. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that some shape-shifting alien had taken over your body and disguised itself as you.” He turned and headed for the door. “Just get out of here.”

  “Should I go up to the bridge?”

  He stopped and looked back at her. “No. Stay off the bridge. Head down to science and contribute there, if you can. There are still people on this ship who don’t trust you, Soleta. For the longest time, I was having trouble understanding why. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that I’ve stopped wondering.”

  She dropped her gaze and stared downward, and she continued to do so as Calhoun walked out of his quarters.

  Soleta felt something dripping onto the sheet covering her legs. She was so disconnected that it took her a few moments to realize that it was tears. Tears were streaming down her face. She brought her arm up to wipe them off, but they kept coming. Why am I crying? I don’t cry. Stop it. Stop it this minute. You were trained better than this. Stop blubbering like an infant.

  But she couldn’t. She had never felt more mortified, more ashamed of herself, and more alone than she did right then.

  The Q Continuum

  MARK MCHENRY STUMBLED forward and caught his breath. He looked around, trying to process exactly where he was.

  He was standing on a dusty, dirty road that was desperately in need of repaving because it was littered with potholes. It stretched through a desert that surrounded him on all sides. The air was parched, and it was difficult for him to breathe, but he was able to do so with some effort. Slowly he turned in a circle, trying to get some idea of where he was. The sun was high overhead, obviously in the position of high noon, and it was beating down upon him. Tall wooden poles lined the road, with long black cables that stretched between them. McHenry assumed that they were there for transmitting power somewhere, or perhaps they were a means of communicating between distances. There were no clouds in the sky; instead, a deep blueness stretched into infinity above him. He saw several birds flapping through the sky above. They were too far away for him to discern the details, but he thought they might be carrion eaters.

  The heat was beating down upon him like a great invisible fist. It was odd, because normally McHenry didn’t react to any temperature extremes, so he found the heat to be disconcerting. But that wasn’t the only thing. One minute he’d been on New Thallon, and the next he was literally in the middle of nowhere.

  “Q!” he shouted. “Where the hell am I?”

  “You’re in the Q Continuum.”

  McHenry spun and saw that Q was standing right behind him. He hadn’t been there before; this was doubtless just another case of Q showing off. “This is your home?”

  “It is indeed,” said Q, glancing around. “I’m curious, though: What do you see?”

  “A desert. With a road running down the middle.”

  “Ah. The standard human perception.” He actually sounded a bit disappointed. “I was hoping for more from you, considering your background.”

  “More? I don’t understand.”

  “The Q Continuum is extremely subjective,” said Q as he strolled in a circle around McHenry. “Different beings see different things. Some people see a vast jungle. Others perceive a busy city or some other metropolitan center. Some see their own homes, and others see the vastness of space.”

  “What do you see?”

  “I couldn’t really describe it in terms that you would understand.” Q sounded rather cavalier about it. “It would be best if you were satisfied with what you perceive.”

  “And why am I here? Or, more accurately, why did you bring me here?”

  “Because this is a terrific opportunity for you, McHenry,” said Q, dropping a hand on McHenry’s shoulder. “I’ve been very impressed by you. I am, in fact, prepared to provide you with a tremendous opportunity.”

  “Oh? And what would that be?”

  “I am offering you the chance . . .” He paused, doubtless for what he imagined to be dramatic effect: “. . . to join the Q ­Continuum. To become a Q.”

  McHenry cocked an eyebrow. “You can do that?”

  “Of course I can. I am a Q. I can do anything.”

  “Can you make a rock so heavy that even you can’t lift it?”

  Q raised a threatening finger. “Don’t start. I don’t need to be dragged into grade-school paradoxes.”

  “All right, fine,” said McHenry impatiently. “So why do you think I would be remotely interested in joining the Q Continuum?”

  Q appeared genuinely shocked. “Why would you not? I mean, let us explore the reality of the situation here. You have a god—or at least what you interpret to be a god—as a grandfather. You have the spirit of another god joined with yours. You are much closer to the omniscience and omnipotence of the Q than you are to a human being. Why in the world would you not wish to join the Continuum?”

  “Because I still have firm ties to humanity.”

  “What ties are those? That young woman, Robin Le Fleur?”

  “Lefler.”

  “And her infant son? The ones that that Thallonian wants me to wipe out of existence for the good of his people? You cannot be serious.”

  “Of course I’m serious.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Q. “And considering that I’m omniscient, that’s quite an accomplishment. What sort of ties . . .” Then his voice trailed off and he stared in astonishment at McHenry. It made Mark feel extremely uncomfortable. “You love her!” he said, his voice filled with astonishment. “You do, don’t you?!”

  “I’m not sure what love is anymore. I’m not even sure I’m capable of it. But she . . . makes me happy. Happier than anyone else ever has.”

  “Well, that’s good,” said Q.

  This reaction surprised McHenry. “Why would you care if someone makes someone else feel good? That shouldn’t be of interest to you.”

  “My interests have shifted in recent years,” said Q.

  He started to walk down the road. Uncertain what else to do, McHenry followed him. The birds continued to circle overhead.

  “My life has taken some very unusual turns,” said Q. “I mated, you know. And had a son.”

  “I didn’t know that.”

  “I wanted to mate with Janeway, but she wasn’t interested.”

  “Well . . . her loss,” said McHenry, assuming that he was referring to Katherine Janeway.

  “I agree,” said Q. “But I wound up mating with a lady Q and our son, q, well . . . he has been a bit of a handful. I’m responsible for raising him, and it has been quite the challenge. Quite the challenge.”

  “I’m sure it is. I was hoping, though, that we could get back to the problem with New Thallon. With you appearing and stating that you were going to destroy Robin and her son.” />
  “Yes, I’m very aware of that. I’m afraid I’ll have to do that. I promised what’s-his-name.”

  “But you don’t have to keep that promise!” McHenry said. “You can just tell him to go screw himself! You can’t just decide to kill Robin and Cwansi!”

  “I’m reasonably sure I can. Why? Are you planning to stop me?”

  “If I have to,” said McHenry.

  This declaration seemed to interest Q. “Do you think you can? You’re not a Q, obviously, but you were able to resist my power when we first met. Does that give you the impression that you can actually stand up to me in a full battle?”

  “I will do what I have to in order to protect them.”

  “I am far more powerful than you are. You have to realize that.”

  “I’m not sure that I do realize that,” said McHenry. He knew he should have said this as fiercely as possible, but instead he said it in an offhand, almost indifferent manner. “I was able to resist your power, yes. And you have no idea what else I’m capable of.”

  Q stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Well! You’ve made this very exciting, now, haven’t you? Let’s put that to the test. Do you see those mountains over there?”

  He pointed into the distance, but McHenry saw nothing save for the flat, barren plain. “No.”

  “Look again.”

  McHenry stared, and suddenly they were there. An array of jagged mountains that seemed to stretch ridiculously high. “I see them now.”

  “Good,” said Q, and he snapped his fingers.

  And suddenly McHenry was dangling from a cliff.

  He let out a startled yell as he fully realized where he was. He almost lost his grip but was able to hold on, his fingers clinging desperately to the edge. He managed to look down and saw that a fall of several hundred meters was waiting for him.

  “What the—” he muttered as he tried to pull himself up but couldn’t do so.

  He brought his feet up, trying to gain traction on the cliffside, but was unable to propel himself upward. He closed his eyes and tried to transport himself down to the ground, but he found that his power was being hampered. “Q!” he shouted.

  The air on the cliff from which he was hanging flared, and Q was standing there. He had an expression of total innocence. “Problem?”

  “Get me off of here!”

  “Why can’t you do it yourself? Oh, that’s right,” Q said, almost as an afterthought. “You can’t because you’re in the Q Continuum. You’re in a realm of my making, and that makes it much more difficult for you. So maybe you’re not quite the powerhouse that you imagine yourself to be.”

  McHenry glared at Q for a long moment.

  Then he released his grip on the cliff’s edge.

  Mark plummeted toward the ground far below. He did not scream or cry out in any way. Instead, as if accepting his impending doom, he twisted around in midair and transformed his plunge into a dive. He pointed his hands above—or, relatively speaking, below—his head and headed straight down as if he were diving toward a swimming pool.

  The ground sped toward him, and he grinned grimly at the prospect of his impending demise.

  But when he struck the ground, it buckled under him, as if he had dove into a gigantic marshmallow. He sank into it and then sprang back upward, the ground bouncing beneath him.

  There was a flash of light and Q appeared a meter away. “That was stupid,” he declared. “You had no idea what was going to happen. You could be dead right now.”

  McHenry rolled across the stretch of bouncing ground and managed to reach the far side, scrambling to his feet. “There is no way that you would let me die,” he stated firmly. “That’s not how you operate, Q. Your idea of a good time is messing with people’s heads, not killing them.”

  “You don’t know that for sure,” said Q. “I could have decided to simply be rid of you.”

  “No way. The fact is that you’re just a little too predictable. Although I still don’t understand why you decided to listen to the begging of Shintar Han and show up on New Thallon in the first place.”

  “I’ve always found the Thallonians a rather entertaining race.” Q was strolling in a small circle, his hands draped behind his back. “It’s why I have been their god for centuries. Manipulating them, undertaking various acts of gamesmanship. It’s fascinating to see them butt heads against each other. But now you have decided to insert yourself into my games. That could be a problem for you.”

  “Or for you,” said McHenry.

  Q actually laughed at that. “Do you truly believe that you could present a problem for me, McHenry? You are greatly overestimating your powers. Let me give you another demonstration.”

  He snapped his fingers.

  McHenry stood there and stared at him.

  That caused Q to frown. He snapped his fingers a second time, but it made no difference. McHenry continued to remain exactly where he was.

  “How is this possible?” Q demanded. He glanced around as if trying to discern someone else in the emptiness. “Who is doing this?”

  McHenry had no idea what was happening, but he wasn’t about to let that piece of knowledge into Q’s head. “I’m doing it, Q. Remember how I stopped your power before? Well, I’m doing it again.”

  “You’re lying,” Q said imperiously, but McHenry could see the doubt on his face. “It’s one thing to thwart me on some random world. But you’re in the Q Continuum now. You’re in my place of power. There’s no way that you should be able to defy me.”

  “And yet I have,” McHenry pointed out. “And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

  Q shrugged. “I can leave you here. I can return to New Thallon, dispose of Robin Lefler and her son, and be done with all this. And in point of fact, there isn’t a thing you can do about it. So you remain here, McHenry, and I’ll be on my way.”

  “No!” shouted McHenry. “You can’t leave me here!”

  “I certainly can. Goodbye, McHenry. You hang here for a millennium or so while I go back to New Thallon and end this absurdity.”

  “You can’t go. I forbid it.”

  Q smiled and snapped his fingers.

  Nothing happened.

  Q stared at his fingers as if they were on someone else’s hand. “This isn’t possible. This simply isn’t possible. I would know if you were on par with my power level, and you’re not. There is no way you should be able to keep me here. How are you doing this?”

  “I told you: I’m doing this because I’m as powerful as you,” McHenry lied. “You say this place is your place of power? Did you ever consider that it’s mine as well?”

  “No, that thought never occurred to me.” Q’s eyes narrowed, and when he stared at McHenry, it was impossible for Mark to discern what was going through his mind. “It appears I may have underestimated you. May have. It is entirely possible that here in the Continuum, despite my expectations to the contrary, we may actually be evenly matched. If that is the case, I really see only one other option. We must return to New Thallon and resume our little battle there. If you wish to defend your beloved Robin Lefler and her child, then you shall be able to do so right in front of them. You can display your might for them. I’m sure they will be most impressed by you. And after that battle—or, more accurately, after I have won that battle—perhaps you will reconsider my offer of joining the Continuum.”

  “That’s not going to happen.”

  “Trust me, McHenry. There may be much that you can do, and many other things that you do not understand. But there is one thing of which I can assure you, and that is that I have lived far longer than you. You have been alive for the equivalent of how long it takes me to blink. So when I say that something is possible, I suggest you take my word for it.”

  “And when I tell you that you have no power over me,” McHenry said bravely, mustering his courage as be
st he could, “I suggest you take my word for that.”

  “Then the stage is set.” Q smiled, which McHenry found disconcerting. “Are you ready to play?”

  “Born ready,” said McHenry.

  “Then let’s get to it,” said Q.

  They vanished.

  Excalibur

  i.

  “TWENTY MINUTES TO the wormhole, Captain,” said Tobias.

  Calhoun didn’t respond. Tobias frowned in confusion. Calhoun was simply sitting in the command chair, staring forward, resting his chin on his hand. He didn’t appear to be paying attention to anything that was going on around him. She exchanged a puzzled look with Kebron, who appeared to shrug. At least, that’s what it looked like; it wasn’t always easy to discern what Kebron was doing physically. “Captain?” she said cautiously.

  Calhoun seemed to force himself to focus his attention on the communications officer. “What?”

  “Twenty minutes to wormhole, sir,” she said, speaking slowly. She wasn’t sure why the captain seemed so distracted, but that wasn’t her problem. She was focused on making sure that he understood the situation they were in. “The Dayan ship is still tailing us.”

  “I know they are. And that’s going to present a problem.” Calhoun rose from his chair, his gaze fixed upon the screen. The Dayan ship was visible on it, easily keeping pace with the Excalibur. “We can’t lead them back to our universe. But if we lead them to the wormhole, that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

  “What’s the plan, sir?” said Kebron.

  Calhoun continued to stare at the viewscreen for a moment, then said, “Activate long-range sensors. Give me a reading on the wormhole. Is it active?”

  At the science station, Xy consulted his instruments quickly. “Yes, sir. It is.”

  “Mister Xy,” said Calhoun, turning to his science officer, “how do we shut it down?”

  “Shut down the wormhole? Permanently?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Well,” Xy said thoughtfully, “the nature of a wormhole is that it is fundamentally delicate. Any disruption to its core should be enough to cause it to collapse in on itself.”