The Returned, Part II

by Peter David

  “I don’t see that we have to curb our expectations to what Shintar Han wants us to do.”

  “Yes, exactly,” said Robin. Her voice was growing more excited, but she was doing everything she could to maintain the steady rocking of her body so that Cwansi would continue to sleep. “The fact is that I feel like a prisoner here. Which makes sense since we came here in order to facilitate the freedom of the Excalibur. But now that we are here, why shouldn’t we do everything we can to act as if we belong here?”

  “That sounds like an excellent idea to me,” said McHenry. “What would you suggest? Go for a walk? Let people see us?”

  “No, no, that’s too small,” she said impatiently. “I want to do something big. Something that lets the entirety of the world know of our presence here.”

  “Does New Thallon have some sort of planetary communications setup?”

  “Yes. They call it the Intervid. There’s a screen for it right over there.”

  She pointed and McHenry turned to look. There was a small, glistening screen set into the wall, just thirty-eight centimeters in diagonal.

  “Intervid on,” said Robin. “News channel.”

  Immediately the screen flared to life. A Thallonian newscaster appeared and, of all people, was reporting on Shintar Han. “—and the prime minister’s office has cancelled all of his scheduled meetings for the remainder of the week, claiming that he has gone into seclusion. Several eyewitnesses, who prefer to remain unnamed, have claimed that Han has taken up residence in a temple dedicated to the Awesome. No reason was given for this . . .”

  Lefler began to laugh. McHenry stared at her, not understanding the reason for her merriment. It took her a few moments to compose herself. “It would appear that Prime Minister Han is up on his history.”

  “History?”

  “According to legend,” she said, “several centuries ago—or longer or shorter, I’m not sure because they measured time differently—a Thallonian priest went to the temple of the Awesome, who is apparently a legendary Thallonian god. He didn’t like whoever it was that was running the world at the time and he wanted—interestingly enough—the Cwan clan to be put into place as rulers instead.”

  “Was he successful?”

  “Obviously he was. The legend says that the Awesome showed up and proceeded to insist that the Cwan family be made the new hereditary rulers of Thallon. Since that’s what they became . . .” She shrugged.

  “Do you believe that?”

  “Of course not. I’ve no idea how Si Cwan’s family came into power, but I’m reasonably sure it had nothing to do with some mythical Thallonian god.”

  “That may well be the case, but still, you should allow for the possibility. And you think that that’s what Han is doing right now?”

  “If he believes the old stories, yes. That’s exactly what he’s doing. He’s praying to the Awesome right now to come and wipe us out. That has to be it.”

  “Hmm. Doesn’t sound very considerate.”

  “It’s not, but I’m really all right with it,” said Robin. “If he’s off praying, it means that he’s not hanging around and trying to come up with new ways to get rid of us. Which brings us back to the Intervid. We should use it to let the rest of New Thallon know that we are here. That the son of Si Cwan is here. That he will be groomed to take care of them and rule. And,” she continued, her voice dropping in what sounded like a vague sense of dread, “that there are people out there who would like to make certain that doesn’t happen.”

  “There are indeed. Like that fellow who tried to kill you the other night . . .”

  “Wait, what?”

  He looked at her blankly. “Oh. I forgot to tell you about that.”

  “About what?” Her voice got louder, and Cwansi whimpered in his sleep. It forced her to drop her tone. “Mark, what happened?”

  “An assassin showed up with the intention of killing you and Cwansi. Don’t worry, I stopped him. And then, since I assumed that Shintar Han sent him, I brought him to Han’s place and we had a chat. It was nice. I was very relaxed. You would’ve been proud of me.”

  “Mark, how could you not have told me earlier?”

  “It didn’t really come up in conversation.”

  “Well, it should have! You should have said something!”

  “I’m saying something now.”

  “But . . .” Her hands were starting to tremble, shaking the sleeping infant, and it was with great personal effort that she managed to curtail it. “Okay . . . Mark . . . let me make this as clear as I can. If someone comes in here with the intention of killing us, I want you to let me know immediately.”

  “All right,” said McHenry.

  “Good. Now . . .”

  “Although let’s say that you’ve had a rough night with Cwansi, and you’ve only just fallen asleep,” McHenry said thoughtfully. “Do I need to wake you up right then to let you know that someone tried to kill you? Because I don’t think that would be fair to you.”

  She closed her eyes. “Fine. If I’ve just fallen asleep. Then you can wait a few hours.”

  “How many?”

  “Until I wake up!”

  “Do I have to tell you right when you awaken? Or can I wait until you’ve had breakfast. Some coffee, perhaps, to make it easier for you to deal with.”

  Robin’s head slumped back on the couch. “Half an hour, okay? Once I wake up, wait half an hour and then tell me. Does that work for you?”

  “I think I can make that work.”

  “Good,” said Robin. “Now we need to—”

  “What if it happens away from the house?”

  She almost choked on her words, trying to get back on topic. “What? What are you talking about?”

  “Well, you said that I should tell you if someone comes in here and tries to kill you. What if someone tries to kill you while we’re out and about? Should I tell you then?”

  “Yes!”

  The shout erupted unbidden from her throat, and Cwansi was instantly jostled to wakefulness. The child let out a high-pitched, pathetic cry and Robin moaned loudly.

  McHenry reached over to the child and touched his head. Instantly Cwansi drifted right back to sleep.

  Robin’s eyes opened wide as she looked from her baby to McHenry and back to the child again. “How the hell did you do that?” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper.

  “The mind is just another place for me to navigate,” Mark said easily. “The younger the individual, the easier it is to manipulate. I doubt I could put an elderly individual to sleep quite that easily, because there’s typically so much going on in their head. But a baby? Not much of a challenge at all.”

  “That’s amazing. I want you to be with me all the time.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Was that a marriage proposal? Because I like you a good deal, Robin, but I’m not sure that—”

  “No, no, no. I’m sorry, Mark, I didn’t mean to give you the wrong idea.”

  “Not at all. Just wanted to be clear.” He stared at her. “You seem confused.”

  “I am. I’m trying to remember what we were talking about before the entire . . . oh, right,” she said as she looked up at the screen. “Using the Intervid to get word out about us.”

  “Well, I think I see an easy means of doing so.”

  “What did you have in—”

  She stopped talking because McHenry was gone. He had simply vanished into nothingness.

  That’s weird. Where did he—?

  Then she heard a startled cry on the screen. She looked up, puzzled, not knowing why the newscaster would be reacting with alarm. Then she saw an image on the screen, and she barely managed to choke out McHenry’s name.

  Because that was where McHenry was. He was standing directly behind the newscaster, having blinked into existence. His voice was remarkably cheerful as he said, “Hi. I’m Mark. Who are you?”

  “This is a private studio!” the newscaster said. He clearly hadn’t realized that McHenry
had simply appeared. At the moment, he was treating him like a simple trespasser. “Please show yourself out.”

  “Actually, I have a story that I want you to report on.” He glanced off screen. “Is that a camera operator over there? Good, we’ll need him, too. You can do a live report, right?”

  “This isn’t happening,” muttered Lefler.

  “Sir, for the last time—” the newsman began to say.

  McHenry clamped a hand on his shoulder, and the next instant, the two of them vanished from the screen. Instead they were now standing in the living room. There was also a camera and its operator. He seemed rather young, but he had a small vid camera in his hand. The both of them were looking around in utter bewilderment.

  “Mark!” Lefler said. “What the hell—?”

  “You wanted to go public,” McHenry said coolly, “and this is the best way to go about it. You have here a genuine newscaster who, I assume, can function as a reporter. With him is a cameraman who can broadcast the story to the entire world. So say what you want, and get the word out.”

  The news anchor was staring at Lefler, and then his eyes widened. “You’re Robin Lefler,” he said. “The widow of the great Si Cwan.”

  “That would be me,” said Lefler. Inwardly she was amused by the adjective placed in front of Cwan’s name, considering that he had been executed by these bastards. It seemed that one’s reputation really did grow after death. “And this is his son, Cwansi.”

  The anchorman snapped his fingers at the cameraman, who immediately brought the camera up and started recording. On the screen against the wall, the words “PLEASE STAND BY” had appeared.

  “I am Puentos Po, lead anchor for Intervid 3,” said the anchorman. “May I ask why you are here?”

  “I was brought here at the insistence of Shintar Han,” said Robin. “I was told that it was decided that my son’s place is here on New Thallon. That I should bring him here to raise him to be your ruler.”

  “The prime minister said that?” said Po. “I’m surprised, since that would mean he is effectively putting an end date to his power.”

  Yes, he obviously realized that. That was why he decided to send someone to try and kill us in our sleep.

  For a long moment Lefler considered saying that. She thought about telling the people of New Thallon just what a complete villain their prime minister was. But as quickly as the idea occurred to her, she rejected it. It simply did not seem the wisest course of action. One of two things would happen. Either Han would manage to remain in power and become even more furious with her because she had revealed his duplicity and evil to the entire planet. Or Han would be forced out of power and possibly replaced by someone who was even worse.

  If, on the other hand, she acted in a manner that was conciliatory, perhaps she could convince him to abandon his murderous bent and work with her for the benefit of New Thallon.

  All this went through her mind in a second. Lefler’s face revealed no hint of her inner monologue. Instead she simply nodded and said, “That is true. It’s obvious that the prime minister places a greater emphasis on the needs of New Thallon than on his desire for power.”

  Po appeared mildly surprised at that assessment. Obviously he knew Han relatively well. He managed to cover it, though, and then he indicated McHenry. “Who is your associate? The gentleman who kidnapped us out of the studio with absolutely no effort?”

  “That is Mark McHenry. He is . . .” She hesitated, trying to think of the best way to frame it. “He is a rather unique individual with a certain set of powers that can be tremendously useful.”

  “And he is here for—?”

  “Protection.” She smiled thinly. “It can be a dangerous world out there, and one cannot be too careful.”

  “Who would want to harm you?”

  “Who indeed?” she echoed. Then Lefler cleared her throat. “I simply wanted the entirety of New Thallon to know that we are here. That we are invested in the future of this world. I’ve thought about it long and hard, and I firmly believe that Si Cwan would want his son to grow up to rule in his stead. No one loved Thallonians more that Si Cwan did. He gave everything, including his life, in the interest of saving his people. I believe that his son can do no less, and I welcome all Thallonians to join me in striving to raise Cwansi to follow the guiding principles of his father.”

  “I must say, it is unusual to encounter a human who is so vested in the future of New Thallon.”

  “Not really. Humanity is a very caring race. Indeed”—she allowed sadness to creep into her tone—“it is quite dishearting to us, and to the whole of the United Federation of Planets, that New Thallon has chosen to separate itself from the rest of the galaxy. There is much that the UFP has to offer, and I would hope that your council eventually comes to that realization and opens up relationships once again.”

  “And tell me, Robin Lefler . . . how are you dealing with the death of your husband?”

  She sighed. “It isn’t easy. Not a day goes by where I don’t think of him. He was such a wonderful, strong, and powerful man. If I could go back in time, I would return to the point where he decided to come back here and try to convince him not to so that he could still be with me. But knowing Cwan, even if that was possible—even if I came back from the future to warn him—he would have done the same thing because of his firm conviction that it was the right thing to do. That’s just the way he tended to operate. I’ve . . .” For a moment she stopped, working to pull herself together. “I have loved so few people in my life, and I’ve lost them all . . . save for my son. He’s all I have left. Every moment that I miss Si Cwan, I hold my son that much more tightly and thank God for his being here.”

  They talked for several more minutes as Po asked her more about her background and the circumstances that had brought her back to New Thallon. She provided him with an edited version of the truth, making no mention of the fact that she had effectively been blackmailed into returning. Lefler wanted to do everything she could to make it appear that her first priority was the collective well-being of New Thallon. She knew it wouldn’t be helpful if she made it sound as if she were a prisoner. Which, in effect, she was, but she didn’t see the need to share that piece of information.

  When they were finished, McHenry returned Po and the cameraman to their studio and within seconds after that, the screen flared back to life with Po proceeding to deliver what was easily the story of his life.

  Lefler kept the Intervid on for the rest of the day, amused to see that it was all about her. Experts were called in, politicians were interviewed, old friends of Si Cwan were dug up to reminisce about the days when the Cwan family had ruled Thallon. It was inspiring for Robin to sit there and watch her husband being glorified on planetary vid, considering the manner in which his life had ended. You never know what you have until you don’t have it anymore, she thought.

  “Satisfied?” said McHenry as he sat next to her on the couch.

  “Very much so,” she said. “And now we see what comes next.”

  Excalibur

  i.

  CALHOUN WAS SEATED behind the desk in his ready room when there was a chime at the door. “Come,” he called.

  The doors hissed open and Xy walked in. “Captain, do you have a moment?”

  “Absolutely, Xy.” He gestured to the chair that was situated opposite the desk and Xy sat. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m not quite sure how to say this, because I’m violating my father’s confidence.” He shifted uncomfortably in the chair. “But I believe I would be remiss in not letting you know that Burgoyne is suspicious of the Dayan.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Well, that’s the problem. S/he isn’t sure why. S/he just is.”

  “And why didn’t s/he come and tell me this hirself?”

  “Because s/he had no concrete evidence to provide you as to why s/he feels this way. The Dayan have said nothing and done nothing to warrant it. Nevertheless, it has hir concerned.”


  Calhoun studied Xy for a moment while drumming his fingers on the desk. “Me too,” he said finally.

  Xy let out a sigh of relief. “Really?”

  “Yes, really. I’m in the same situation as Burgy. I don’t know why I’m suspicious; I just am. The Dayan haven’t done anything to prompt it, but I can’t help but wonder about them. Honestly, I was wondering whether it was just me being paranoid.”

  “There is a very old saying, Captain. Just because you are paranoid . . .”

  “. . . doesn’t mean that someone is not out to get you. I’ve heard that one as well.”

  “So what do we do?”

  “Do? At this point, I’m not sure there’s anything we can do. We’ve committed to this course of action, plus we still have to do something about the D’myurj. The Dayan are supposedly going to help us accomplish that. So for the time being, we proceed in the way we planned.”

  “All right, then, Captain. If you’re sure.”

  “No, Xy. I’m anything but sure. Sometimes, though, you have to take things on faith.”

  “That much is true. Uh, Captain, if you wouldn’t mind—”

  “Not telling your father that we had this conversation?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Don’t worry, Xy. It’ll stay between us.”

  Xy got to his feet. “Thank you, sir.”

  He exited, leaving Calhoun concerned. It bothered the hell out of him that Burgoyne was reluctant to come and tell him what was on hir mind. Didn’t s/he trust him sufficiently to know that such reticence was unnecessary?

  Well, obviously not. Calhoun resolved that he would have to try and do something about that, although he didn’t have the faintest idea what.

  ii.

  KALINDA WAS STARING intently at the object in her hand. When the door to the quarters hissed open, she didn’t even look up.

  “What’s the matter, Kally?” said Tania Tobias. She seemed slightly out of breath. “You said you needed to talk to me.”

  “I know. You ran?”

  “Well, I assumed it was an emergency,” she said. “I mean, I’m on duty, and you know I’m on duty. So I assumed that whatever you needed to speak to me about, it was of some importance.”