by Peter David
All eyes turned toward Burgoyne. But s/he shook hir head quickly. “No. No, nothing like that’s been done. We got out of the area fast enough to avoid any such stunts.”
“But we might be carrying something within the computer base…”
“No, that’s the problem. We’re not carrying anything in the computer base. When they got into our mainframe, they wound up erasing all the data. Everything. This ship is a damnable blank slate. All of the fundamental material and information needed for its running is gone.”
“Gone? Completely?”
“Information is never gone completely from a computer, Captain. It’s there somewhere. But when it’s wiped clean, what basically happens is that we can’t get at it. I’ll find a way…but it’ll take time.”
“How much time?”
“I don’t know,” s/he admitted. “I have all my people working on it, but I simply do not know. And that’s not all.”
“What, it gets better?”
“That’s an understatement. Our preliminary probes reveal imprints of mental engrams left behind, like fingerprints. This wasn’t simply a virus or a machine wipe. A mind…an actual mind…entered the computer and nearly wiped it, and us, from existence.”
“The Narobi. It has to be,” said Si Cwan.
“Perfect. So what have we got?” asked Riker. “In terms of capabilities, I mean.”
“Minimal, being routed through manual control. We’ve got life support systems on line. Warp drive is up, as you know, which is how we managed to throw ourselves to…wherever the hell it is that we are.”
“Have we got coordinates as to our present location?” asked Riker.
Shelby nodded. “McHenry says he knows where we are. I have no reason to doubt him.”
“We jumped blind through warp space and he knows where we came out?”
She nodded again. “He’s rather talented that way.”
“So I hear. All right: life support, warp drive…what about communications?”
“Not yet,” said Burgoyne. “Besides, even if we did have communications up and running and could get through to the Federation…what would we say? ‘Excalibur to UFP: Shut down everything throughout the entire Federation. We’re celebrating the bicentennial by reverting to the Stone Age. Cease and desist in your entire way of life until you hear from us again. And by the way, we have no proof.’ Oh, that’s going to go over very well, I can assure you. They’d probably shunt the message over into a committee which would debate about it for three weeks before resolving to tell us that we’re idiots.”
“You’ve made your point, Burgoyne,” Riker said. “Is anything else functioning around here?”
“Manual guidance control just came back on, and we’ve got the viewscreens up and running. Basically, we can move, at warp speed if we need to. But navigation is still off-line. It would be like trying to steer in the dark while blindfolded. It’s impossible. Besides, we have no idea where we would go anyway.”
“Yes. We do,” Soleta said. “That was the one other piece of information I…we,” she amended with a glance toward Selar, “…managed to get out of Sela. The coordinates of where Gerrid Thul is.”
“But as Burgoyne said, trying to plot, to navigate without the computers…unless these coordinates are practically next door, it’s just not possible,” Riker said.
“I wouldn’t be so quick to say that,” Shelby told him. “I suggest we run it past McHenry.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
She smiled thinly. “Trust me.”
“All right,” he nodded slowly. “I don’t see that we have much of a choice. Let’s do it, people.”
As they cleared out of the conference lounge, Soleta found herself momentarily alone with Selar. She moved toward her and said, “Doctor…”
But Selar shook her head. “Lieutenant…do not.”
“I was just…”
“Going to thank me?”
“Yes.”
“Do not,” she said again. “I do not wish to be thanked. You have done me service in the past. I found that I could not turn away from you when you were in need. But I compromised myself…my sense of ethics…my very morality. I did harm, Lieutenant.”
“For the greater good, Doctor. That should make it easier.”
“It should. I agree. But…it does not. If you will excuse me,” and she walked out of the conference room.
Mark McHenry stared out at the stars. So many. So many of them. Riker stood behind him on the bridge, as did Shelby. “They are gorgeous, you know,” McHenry said softly. “I see them in my head last thing before I go to sleep…and first thing when I wake up. I know them. Know them all.”
“And you know where we are in relation to them right now?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And these coordinates that Soleta has given you…you know where those are, as well?”
“Yes, sir.”
Riker found it hard to believe. He had been treading the spaceways for over half his life, but like virtually everyone else he knew, he required star-charts, computer-generated readouts, and whatever else could be provided for the purpose of making his way around the vastness of space. To just…know… to be able to look out into the galaxy and have that clear an idea in one’s head of exactly where one was…it was astounding.
“And you can get us there?” Riker said.
McHenry closed his eyes a moment. It seemed as if he’d gone to sleep. Riker started to say something, but Shelby touched him gently on the arm and shook her head. Then McHenry opened his eyes once more and said, “Yes, sir. Not a problem.”
“All right, then. Lay in a course—” His voice trailed off, and he corrected himself, because it was impossible to plot a course. All the steering would have to be done manually. “Take us out, Mr. McHenry. Warp factor…” He hesitated and then shrugged. “Whatever you feel comfortable moving at. And let’s hope to hell that Burgoyne has the weapons on line by the time we get there.”
“Aye, sir. May I ask a question, sir?” he inquired as he urged the ship forward.
“Absolutely.”
“What’s going on? I mean, I can get us there, but it’s not without risks. Without navigation on line, it’s going to be a bit trickier avoiding, oh…black holes, asteroid fields and the like. I can do it, mind you…but it’s trickier. The smart thing to do would be to remain where we were until everything is back up and running. So what’s the rush? What are we trying to do?”
“Fair enough.” He glanced around the bridge and said, with sufficient graveness of tone to put across the gravity of the situation, “A deadly virus is threatening to wipe out the lives of everyone we hold dear…and only the good ship Excalibur has a hope of stopping it. Does that answer it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re frowning, Lieutenant. I hope you’re not feeling daunted.”
“No, sir,” said McHenry. “Just the strangest feeling of déjà vu, that’s all. Don’t worry. It’ll be gone soon enough.”
XIX.
CALHOUN HAD BEEN in his quarters for all of two minutes when Kwint showed up at the door. He entered without a word and they faced each other as the door slid closed.
“Are you out of your mind!” Calhoun fairly exploded the moment they were in private. “What the hell are you doing here? You almost gave me a heart attack!”
“Calm down, Mac,” Picard said stiffly. “Having apoplexy is not going to help the situation.”
“That’s putting it mildly! It was everything I could do not to react when I saw you! Why are you here? With the hair? And the beard? And Darg?”
“I was sent in by Jellico…”
“Jellico? But he was working with Nechayev! He helped stage an entire confrontation at the big diplomatic reception to make it seem as if I was storming out of Starfleet! It’s how we got Thul’s attention!”
“So it would seem. I was unaware of that. Jellico called me in, summarized the situation for me, and sent me on a mission to get in
good with Zolon Darg. He chose me because Jack Crusher and I had dealings in the past with Thul. Jellico had heard the rumors that Thul was involved and wanted to make certain, one way or the other.”
“But if he knew about—” Then Calhoun actually half-smiled to himself. “He didn’t trust me. He didn’t trust me not to screw things up. So he sent you in as back-up, without telling Nechayev or me.”
“Charming,” said Picard.
“And this disguise,” and he tugged slightly at the beard, “was supposed to fool him? It didn’t fool me.”
“First, you’ve seen me far more recently than Thul. He hasn’t laid eyes on me for a good many years, and Darg has never met me. Second, you’re Xenexian. You have a heightened sensitivity to such things. Besides, I didn’t know for sure that I would wind up face to face with Thul. In any event, he hasn’t recognized me, nor has Darg. So we’re safe enough…for the moment. We have to stay steady, though…”
“That was easy until this got personal,” said Calhoun, tightly.
Picard looked at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Lodec…the Danteri that you saw…?”
“Yes? What about him?”
“He killed my father.”
Picard’s eyes widened in concern. “Are you certain?”
“Absolutely. Absolutely positive.” He paced the room like a caged tiger. “The longer this goes on, the more I think of my father crying out…think of what he did…Picard…there’s so many people here now. It could be covered.”
“What could be covered?”
“I could kill him, make it seem as if it was a random act of violence. There’s enough disreputable individuals that the suspicion wouldn’t fall on me, and—”
“Mac,” and Picard grasped him by the shoulders, “you can’t lose focus. Letting feelings get in the way is not a luxury we can afford.”
“Laying my father’s soul to rest is not a luxury, Picard. It’s a mandate. It has to be done.”
“Not here! Not now!” Picard said harshly. “If you do anything to jeopardize the mission we’re on now, Mac, just out of a personal sense of vengeance, I will…”
“You will what? Have me busted in rank? Slap my wrist? Give me ten lashes? Do you think I seriously give a damn what happens to me?”
“Probably not. But I would hope you give a damn what happens to everyone else. Mac…I appreciate your anger and your frustration. But you simply cannot indulge in those feelings at the moment. It could be ruinous for everyone and everything. We have to determine what Thul is up to and stop him. The Mackenzie Calhoun I know wouldn’t elevate his need for vengeance over the needs of those who are depending upon him.”
“Maybe you don’t know Mackenzie Calhoun, then.”
“Maybe I don’t. But the brutal, simple truth, Mac, is that killing Lodec won’t bring your father back…. and it could result in the death of many more. Are you prepared to take that chance? Or are you going to do what’s right?”
“And who knows what’s right, Picard. You?”
“Not always. But in this instance…yes.”
Slowly, Calhoun sat. He rubbed the lower half of his face in thought, and finally said, “All right. For now…for now I do nothing against Lodec. But I’ll tell you something, Picard…I never thought that doing nothing would be a hundred times more difficult than doing something. Do you have any idea what it’s like, Picard? That there’s someone you hate so much…that with every fibre of your being, all you want to do is hold their head in one hand, their neck in another, and with one quick movement, break it?”
For a moment, Picard saw the skinless, gleaming skull and spine of the Borg queen in his hands, and the cathartic cleansing that came with that glorious snap.
“Believe it or not…I do,” said Picard.
The summons had come.
Everyone had been informed that they were to come to the grand hall, and come they did. The lifts were operating at peak capacity throughout the sphere as the entire populace converged on the main meeting area.
There had been those who had doubted. Even though they had shown up with the one hundred thousand bars of latinum as promised, still there had been doubts and discord. But the revelation of the sphere’s existence, in and of itself, was enough to quell their initial concerns. They knew, beyond question, that they were now part of something special, something incredibly significant in the entire history of the galaxy. There were still questions, still worries, but there was also enough faith that Gerrid Thul actually had a plan. That he knew what he was doing.
And now they were going to find out. All their questions were to be finally, ultimately, answered.
Calhoun and Picard had resolved that going together would not be the brightest move. There was no intrinsic reason for them to be especially friendly with one another, and so it was advisable that they keep their distance, at least until such time as it was unavoidable. So Calhoun headed toward the turbolift on his own upon receiving word of the summons. He stepped into the lift, and froze.
Lodec was standing there. It was just the two of them.
Calhoun couldn’t believe it. What was this, some sort of perverse joke that the cosmos was playing on him? He forced a smile as he stepped onto the lift and the doors shut behind him.
“Impressive set-up, isn’t it,” Lodec said after a moment.
Calhoun managed a nod. He pictured himself with his sword in his hand, plunging it into Lodec’s heart. It gave him a minuscule amount of satisfaction, but not much.
And then Lodec said, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry.” Calhoun repeated the word tonelessly. “Sorry…for what?”
“You were right. My saying that I was simply following orders…that was just an excuse. A nice, tidy way of shirking my responsibility. The things that we did…” He shook his head. “Inside…I was screaming. Screaming. But Falkar—that’s who I was connected to—Falkar was the liege-lord of our family. Our patron, as he was to a number of us. So when he selected me to serve him, I had no choice. At least, that’s what I told myself. My family sent me off to war, and I’ll never forget my father looking at me so sternly, giving me the admonition, ‘Don’t dishonor us, son. Don’t dishonor us.’And me, young and foolish…I would have done anything to make my father proud. Do you know what that’s like?”
“No,” Calhoun said hollowly.
“Oh. Well…that’s all I cared about. Pleasing him, pleasing my family. But I hated every moment of it. It got so bad…there was a time there where we were posted to Xenex, and I thought of leaving the camp and walking into the nearest Xenexian town and picking a fight, and then allowing myself to be killed. That way…that way it would have been over. I didn’t have the nerve, though. I didn’t want to throw my life away because part of me kept saying, ‘Stay steady. Things will get better. You won’t have to live this way forever.’ Except the problem is…even when you’re not living it…it stays with you for as long as you live. The things we did,” he said again, shaking his head, looking lost. “The helpless people we killed…the beatings…lord…they put me in charge of whippings, can you believe that?”
“Indeed. Why you?” Calhoun’s voice was strangled. But he saw that Lodec was so far in his recollections that he wasn’t noticing.
“I’d practiced with whips ever since I was a kid. To me, it wasn’t a weapon. It was a tool of skill. I could knock over a particular rock from thirty paces without disturbing anything around it. Falkar saw me showing off one day, and on the spot, stated that I was his new whip master. He had me beat people…the screams…the blood…”
“Beat them to death, did you?”
“Sometimes,” he whispered. “Sometimes, yes. I’d be there, torturing the poor devils, and in my head I was taking myself away, somewhere far away…”
“What are you telling me this for?” demanded Calhoun abruptly. “What do you want from me? Absolution? You want me to tell you that it’s okay, you’re forgiven?”
“Perhaps. Yo
u were their warlord. If you said you understood…if you…” Then he saw the look in Calhoun’s hard purple eyes. “No. No, I suppose not. My apologies. It was foolish of me even to try.”
The door slid open and he walked out, leaving Calhoun drained in the turbolift, his hands shaking.
The viewscreen was massive, and on it, everyone could see the celebration of the bicentennial well under way. It was in the great plaza of the United Federation Headquarters, and it was a wonder to behold. a veritable sea of races and faces, smiling or doing whatever their respective physicality allowed them to do when it came to expressing pleasure. Calhoun even fancied that he could make out Jellico’s face somewhere in all that hubbub.
Gerrid Thul was standing upon a raised platform, looking down at the assemblage that he had gathered. He looked stronger, more vital than he had before. “Thank you, my friends,” he said. “Thank you for coming. Thank you for…believing. For many months now, you have heard the whispers…you have had revealed to you, in small amounts, the truth of the time to come. And you see there, now, on this screen, on the planet earth, the United Federation of Planets celebrating its own birth. As it so happens, we shall be celebrating as well. We shall be celebrating…its demise.
“It is ironic somehow that we are witnessing a celebration on earth. Earth has many interesting and intriguing end-of-the-world myths from its many cultures. The details differ, but the outcome remains the same: The old is washed away, while the new rises to take its rightful place.
“The time has come for a new cleansing. The Federation has become too huge, too insensitive, interested only in maintaining its own existence and status quo rather than attending to the true needs of various sentient beings. There is too much need for commonality, and there is a loss of individual identity. You see on that screen a dazzling array of species…but as year upon year has gone by, they have slowly lost that which made them unique, special. The Federation must pay for that loss. And the Federation must, and shall, pay for the disservice that it has done to you. You, the outcasts, who for whatever reason, do not fit in with the Federation’s grand scheme of the way things should be. Rejoice, my friends, for the days of your living in a galaxy that attends to the Federation’s beck and call are soon over.”