by Dayton Ward
“It is him,” said Janotra, the guard who had overseen the away team’s original incarceration. He looked away, toward someone Picard could not see, before redirecting his attention back inside the vehicle. “Are you injured?”
“What is the meaning of this?” asked Picard. He felt his grip tighten on the pistol.
Janotra replied, “You are safe, Captain. I am here to take you to your people, but we must leave quickly. They will send soldiers and others to investigate, and we must be gone from here before they arrive. We have no wish to harm anyone beyond what is absolutely necessary and otherwise unavoidable.”
Allowing himself to be helped from the transport, Picard handed his weapon to Janotra. He saw that the ambush had occurred on an undeveloped road well away from the activity of Ponval. The cityscape was visible in the distance, many of its buildings’ lights still glowing as dawn approached. A narrow, winding road cut through grassland, and a trio of ground vehicles, each featuring an antigrav system like the transports, were parked in the shadows beneath a canopy of towering trees. Several Eizand moved about, and Picard noted how their uniforms and equipment were far less clean and polished than what he had seen in the city. These were not regular soldiers, he decided.
Realization dawned, and Picard scowled. “You’re the dissenters Presider Hilonu mentioned.”
“Yes,” replied the Eizand. “A few of them, at least. There are many more of us, Captain, scattered around the world.”
“I don’t understand. Why are you fighting your government?”
“Because it is based on treachery and deceit.” Janotra took Picard by the arm and led him toward one of the vehicles. “Our world’s history is one of tragedy, Captain, but many of us have come to believe it was as much of our own making as it was influenced by outside forces. There are those who are unwittingly ignorant of this, and still others who have chosen to bury the unpleasant truths. We mean to set the record straight.”
That gave Picard pause. “Wait. Are you saying that you don’t believe my people were responsible for the war?”
Janotra shook his head. “That I do not know, but with your help, we hope the truth will soon be known to all.”
• • •
Chen was the first to see him, and Picard was almost knocked off his feet as she eschewed all manner of Starfleet protocols and convention by wrapping her arms around him in a firm hug.
“Lieutenant,” said Picard, though he did not resist his own instinctive return of the embrace.
“You can court-martial me later, sir, but it’s damned good to see you.”
With that undignified greeting out of the way, Picard took stock of Lieutenant Dina Elfiki and Glinn Ravel Dygan before the science officer updated him on the team’s liberation from their holding cell. Fleeing from Ponval, they along with Janotra and other Eizand dissenters had ventured into the mountains far north of the city before arriving in this network of underground tunnels and caverns. Picard had been given the same treatment, leaving the scene of his own escape via ground vehicles before switching to a small airborne personnel craft and flying deep into the mountain range. After landing and camouflaging the shuttle, Picard’s rescuers escorted him on foot the rest of the way, entering the subterranean hideaway through a concealed entrance at the bottom of a narrow ravine.
Finally, with Elfiki’s recounting of their journey to this unlikely sanctuary complete, Picard listened to her report about Austin Braddock’s death during the away team’s escape.
“I’m sorry, Captain,” she said. “It happened so fast, and there was so much confusion.”
“He saved my life, sir,” added Chen, her eyes moistening. “It was over in an instant. I don’t know if he even knew what he was doing, or if he was just acting on instinct, or . . .” Her words trailed off as she reached up to wipe a lone tear that had begun running down her cheek.
Dygan placed a hand on her shoulder. “He knew, Lieutenant.” The Cardassian offered a small smile. “He acted out of duty and training, but also out of loyalty to his shipmates. Remember that.”
Nodding, Chen reached up to pat his hand. “Thanks.”
“Captain Picard.”
Turning at the sound of the new voice, Picard saw Janotra standing at what he perhaps considered a respectful distance as the captain reunited with his officers. The tall, lean Eizand soldier had exchanged his Tevent Coalition military uniform for looser, more comfortable-looking clothing. He was accompanied by another Eizand: the female Picard had seen during his liberation from custody.
“This is my assistant, Renli,” said Janotra, gesturing to his companion. “She oversees our supplies, including scouting for new sources of food, water, weapons, and other necessities. She also plans raids into Ponval or other, smaller cities or settlements to provide us what we need.”
Picard asked, “You steal what you need?”
“Sometimes, yes.” Janotra grimaced. “It is not something we are proud of, Captain. It is a tactic of last resort, and even then we do everything possible to ensure that those suffering a loss due to our theft are not innocent bystanders or those who cannot afford to lose whatever meager possessions they have acquired. Instead, we focus our activities against government or military entities.”
It all sounded so very altruistic, and Picard attempted not to render summary judgment upon these people until he heard more of their story. At first, they seemed to be a band of rogue bandits, but such people would not have taken the trouble to free strangers from prison. There was more here than met the eye, Picard decided.
“If you are hungry or require rest,” said Renli, “we can provide for your needs just as we have for the rest of your group. I promise you will be treated well.”
Chen said, “They’ve taken great care of us.”
Drawing himself up, Picard said, “Thank you for your offer and for looking after my people. What I require is an explanation for our release and access to my ship.”
Janotra nodded. “Your second request presents some problems, as any attempt by us to establish a communications link will surely be tracked by the Coalition’s rather extensive monitoring and surveillance apparatus. I am not saying such communication is impossible, but it will require additional planning and coordination on our part in order to keep Coalition forces from discovering our location.”
“Fair enough,” said Picard. Though he was uncertain he should take everything Janotra told him at face value, there was something to be said for exercising patience and restraint for the time being, in the hopes of learning more about these people and what they were doing here.
“As for why we extracted you from detention,” said Janotra, “the simple answer is that we need your help, Captain. We need your help to unlock the truth of what happened to us. It affects you as well. It is our hope that if the reality of the war is revealed, the divisions that continue to plague us even after so many generations will finally begin to dissolve.”
Chen asked, “You mentioned that your people have been living a lie. What does that mean?”
“Are you saying the astronauts from Earth weren’t responsible?” asked Elfiki.
“We know that they played a role. What remains unclear is the extent of their involvement.”
Indicating for Picard and the others to follow them, Janotra and Renli moved out of the small cave where the away team had greeted one another and into a connecting tunnel. As with the caves, the ceiling here was low and the floor uneven. Picard saw how lights strung on cables provided illumination in the otherwise dark spaces. He ran his hand along a stone wall, feeling its network of craggy grooves and wondering how long ago this underground passage had been created.
As they walked, Janotra said, “Many of the war’s contributing factors were in play long before their arrival, such as our endless squabbling over natural resources and territorial boundaries. While the Tevent had ready access to vast deposits of mineral ores and other resources, the Galj and Yilondra nations also controlled their assets.
” The Eizand soldier shook his head. “Disagreements and distrust over access to resources was a constant source of ever escalating conflicts. Given the unwillingness of any of the major participants in these disputes to negotiate or even honor existing treaties, all-out war was inevitable.”
Picard asked, “But what about the astronauts? What does any of this have to do with them?”
His expression now one of sadness, Janotra replied, “They were the perfect means to an end, Captain.”
“They were scapegoats?” asked Chen.
Janotra frowned. “I do not understand your reference, Lieutenant, but if it means they were treated unfairly, that is not inaccurate.”
“But what of their trial?” asked Glinn Dygan. “Are you implying that was a miscarriage of justice?”
“It was worse,” said Renli. “It was theater, designed to distract the masses and inflame their emotions at a time when our people were still reeling from the effects of global war. After having their civilization almost ripped from them, the Tevent Coalition government was able to march these three criminals before an audience of hundreds, with millions more watching on news broadcasts, as they were executed for their supposed deeds.”
Unwilling to simply accept what he was hearing, Picard said, “Even if what you say is true, it still doesn’t give me a reason. Why would the Tevent Coalition have to pursue such a—”
Wait.
Janotra nodded. “Yes, Captain. The Tevent started our war.”
“Damn,” said Elfiki.
Renli replied, “There were many who believed war was inevitable, and opinions differed on which of the three powers would launch the initial strikes. Tevent leaders at the time attempted to portray the conflict as the Galj and Yilondra combining forces to threaten Coalition interests; there is equal evidence to suggest the Tevent government pursued unduly aggressive policies with respect to territorial expansion and protection.” She held out her hands. “In the end, all that matters is that war finally came, and our entire planet suffered for it.”
“Whether your people provided the trigger for the war is another matter,” said Janotra. “Several theories were put forth, establishing a case for a version of events that was rather convenient. The precise timeline has always raised questions for those willing to consider them. In the aftermath of the initial strikes, when the trial was under way, Tevent forces moved on Galj and Yilondra targets while people’s attentions were elsewhere. By then, it was too late.”
The group resumed their traversing of the tunnel, with Janotra eventually leading them into another, somewhat larger chamber. Picard saw stacks of storage containers, tools, and other items, including an array of computer and communications equipment sitting on worktables along the rear wall. Although Picard did not recognize the function of every component, there was enough here for him to glean some understanding.
“I know that our story must seem outlandish,” said the Eizand soldier as they entered the room. “I cannot expect you to simply believe me. The truth is that we have no proof of these allegations. Finding evidence has been one of our goals for quite some time. Thankfully, there are others, like me, who have inserted themselves into the Coalition government and military at various levels, working in secret for years to locate the proof we seek.”
“There must be something,” said Picard.
Renli replied, “As generations passed, leaders changed, and people forgot, it became harder to believe that such evidence existed at all. However, one of our people alerted us to a possibility just a few days ago, before your arrival. That prompted us to take a chance on raiding one of the Coalition archive annexes.”
“That is what Presider Hilonu mentioned,” said Glinn Dygan. “When we first met her, there was talk of such a raid.”
Picard nodded. “Yes, she did talk about that.”
“Do you think Hilonu knows about this evidence or what it represents?” asked Chen.
“I do not believe that the presider, or even anyone on her staff, knows the truth,” replied the Eizand. “However, she does have advisers who will attempt to shield her from this, to protect her from a political standpoint. We hope that if the evidence we have found is conclusive, we can use it to convince Hilonu that our cause is just.”
Elfiki asked, “What kind of evidence are we talking about?”
Moving to one of the storage crates, Janotra pulled open the container’s access panel, revealing a cache of computer or electrical equipment. It took Picard a moment to realize that some of the components did not appear to be Eizand in origin. Sitting among a section of console or workstation parts were at least two keyboards bearing English lettering, along with another panel of status gauges and controls labeled with similar script.
“Is that what I think it is?” asked Chen.
Janotra replied, “This is a computer core from the Eizand ship that originally visited your world and eventually returned to us, modified for use by humans. We have attempted to access it, but it is encrypted using methods we do not understand.”
“Captain,” said Elfiki, “if this has a record of the ship’s flight from Earth, maybe with personal logs or journals—”
Already ahead of his science officer, Picard nodded. “The truth about everything may be right here.”
23
Vandenberg Air Force Base, California
September 6, 2044
Gerald Markham glanced at the clocks on the Spaceflight Operations Center’s curved forward wall. Positioned in a row above the array of ten giant high-definition display monitors that dominated the wall, each clock was labeled with a different time zone from around the world, with the range of times spanning fourteen hours from California to Japan. Now, however, the only clock that concerned him was the one that matched his wristwatch and was set to local time.
Markham always found it fascinating that in a room teeming with state-of-the-art computer and communications equipment, people who staffed facilities such as this one continued to rely on analog clocks for keeping track of the hour. With a small smile, he recognized the irony of questioning the SpaceOps clocks while sporting his own archaic timepiece. The watch, with hands instead of a digital readout, possessed no special features beyond a backlit face. It was a throwback, much like himself. He had never held any particular interest or enthusiasm for timepieces beyond their obvious usefulness, though he had developed a fascination in recent years not just for clocks and watches, but also calendars and any other sort of timekeeping tool.
Of particular interest was their ability to count down toward zero—to nothingness.
“Holding at T minus five minutes,” said a voice over the SpaceOps intercom system. “All controllers maintain readiness levels.”
Standing at the rear of the SpaceOps chamber, Markham glanced around the room. His vantage point gave him an unfettered view of the entire floor, which was arranged in tiered fashion with four rows of nine workstations each, curving outward as they faced the wall of monitors. The highest tier, where Markham stood, had an additional trio of workstations behind the row of consoles on this level, where the flight director and other high-ranking personnel could be found during active missions. The consoles were streamlined, with docking stations for laptop computers, tablets, phones, and other devices that would be swapped out or moved to other stations as required by the needs of a specific mission. Despite this latest delay, Markham noted that every workstation was occupied, with people either sitting at computer terminals or moving between consoles to exchange information.
Centered on the array of screens at the front of the room was a giant image of a spacecraft secure in a weblike cradle. The image, fed to them from camera systems all around the orbiting dock facility, displayed the ship it protected in all its glory. Peacemaker 1, as it was known in Majestic 12 circles, was an ungainly conglomeration of disparate components that scientists and engineers had somehow convinced to play nice with one another. Rather than relying on heavy-lift launch systems that could not e
scape public scrutiny and curiosity, Peacemaker was assembled in space, with components lifted to orbit under the auspices of building a new permanent space habitat to replace the International Space Station, which had sustained damage several years earlier and was now incapable of supporting a crew. While that new station was being built, it provided cover for Peacemaker’s construction. It was an approach that allowed Majestic and its subordinate organizations to evade detection, which was of enormous benefit when considering the spacecraft’s cargo and mission. That aspect of this endeavor was embodied in the oversized cylinder that had been affixed to the front of the alien craft. At first glance, it reminded Markham of the body of an old Saturn V rocket from the 1960s or 1970s, or the larger orbiting satellites—many secret from the general public—from the United States as well as the Soviet Union during the same time period.
“What’s the holdup this time?” asked Markham, allowing a hint of irritation to creep into his voice.
Standing at the workstation normally designated for the flight director and dressed in the dark, formal uniform of a United States Navy admiral, Geoffrey Stanton replied, “We’re still waiting for the all-clear on that final cryo systems check.”
Despite being unhappy about the report, Markham said nothing. A problem with the cryogenics support systems aboard the spacecraft could scrub the entire mission. The system, despite surviving a prolonged battery of rigid testing and other quality assurance checks, was still facing its first use in an actual operational scenario. A modernization of technology first developed during the last century, cryogenic suspension support systems had come a long way since the ill-conceived experiments conducted in the 1990s. For one thing, the version carried by this ship benefited from all the lessons learned during those initial trials, as well as enhancements from equipment used by the Eizand crew. Despite all of this preparation, this was to be the system’s first practical test.
The ship’s crew—Commander Valmiki Goswami, Lieutenant Meredith Harper, and Lieutenant Park Ji-hu—were already in hibernation, tucked in for their journey as just one of the hundreds of thousands steps to be accomplished prior to launch. The ship would be piloted by the onboard computer guidance system for the duration of the journey, with Goswami and his crew only emerging from cryogenic sleep as the vessel approached its destination. If the system malfunctioned in flight, the crew would die, so if there was a chance for technicians to rectify any issues or concerns without aborting the mission, Markham supported that action.