The com officer there would take a moment to decode it—and when he did, his eyes would pop. Anyone’s would, with that kind of gift dropped in his lap. Pretty soon, that com officer and his superior would be opening a channel to Starfleet Command.
It might take a little time to digest it all, and figure out what to do with it, and then send it out to all the captains who would need it. Maybe it wouldn’t arrive in time to help everyone, but it would eventually even the playing field.
If Ben Zoma were back on the Stargazer, staring at the enemy’s weapons ports, all he would have wanted was a fighting chance. Knowing the men and women who served on starships, he believed that would be enough.
There was really no reason to keep firing. But Ben Zoma fired anyway. He just didn’t have it in him to surrender.
And in time, it cost him. The first shot he took was just a glancing blow, barely hard enough to make him drop his phaser. But the second one came from a better angle, and it was the last thing Ben Zoma felt.
Chapter Sixteen
BEN ZOMA CAME TO not knowing where he was or how he had gotten there, but he felt as if he had been run over by a starship moving at warp nine.
Then he remembered—the firefight with the aliens, and how they had blasted him as he covered Garner and Horombo. But he wasn’t dead. And as he looked around, he saw that he wasn’t the only one fortunate enough to say that.
He was surrounded by all six of his companions, in a rectangular room with walls made of the same oily-looking metal he had seen in the supply ship. To that point, only Chen and Ramirez had found the where-withal to sit up, but the others all appeared to be moving in that direction.
Unfortunately, they had been relieved of their equipment. But then, it would have been unrealistic to expect otherwise.
“Is everyone all right?” asked Ben Zoma.
The others blinked at him dully. However, every one of them eventually answered in the affirmative—with the notable exception of McAteer. Instead, he got up and began walking around the room, running his hands over the walls.
Ben Zoma wasn’t sure what the admiral hoped to accomplish. However, he refrained from commenting as McAteer examined each wall in turn.
Finally, a sound of exasperation escaped from him and he said, “Nothing.”
Though Ben Zoma had decided not to comment, Paris didn’t seem to feel the same way. “What were you looking for, sir?”
McAteer looked as if he hadn’t expected anyone to ask for details. “Whatever I could find,” he said, keeping it vague.
At that point, Paris too seemed to realize it would be less embarrassing for everyone if he let the matter drop. McAteer hadn’t served on a starship in a long time. He had probably forgotten what to do when he found himself unexpectedly incarcerated.
And yet, thought Ben Zoma, the admiral couldn’t afford to let the rest of them know that. If he did, he might lose his aura of experience and authority, which seemed very precious to him.
Also, it might undercut his argument about Picard. After all, if McAteer demonstrated an inability to make the right decisions in a tough spot, who was he to judge one of his captains?
“Any guesses as to where we are?” asked Ben Zoma.
“Looks like a storage room,” said Chen.
“Yes,” said Ramirez. “Probably on the same vessel where we were caught.”
Horombo glanced at the door. “And more than likely, there are guards out there. I’d certainly post them if somebody was clever enough to sneak onto my ship.”
“So,” said Ben Zoma, summing it up, “even if we manage to get the door open, we’re not likely to get very far.”
“Not a very good position,” Garner observed.
“But we’re alive,” said Paris. That was a good thing.
“And together,” said Horombo. That was another.
But that could all change, and quickly. As Ben Zoma thought that, he heard the door unlock and saw it slide open. A moment later, one of the invaders stuck his head in.
Like all the others they had seen, his features were hidden by a helmet. He studied the team for a moment. Then he extended his fingers in McAteer’s direction and said, “Come with me.”
Ben Zoma got to his feet. “Why him?”
“He’s your leader,” said the alien. He tilted his head as if he were reconsidering his conclusion. “Is he not?”
“I am,” McAteer said decisively.
“Actually,” said Ben Zoma, “he’s the ranking officer, but I’m the one in charge of this team.”
The invader made a sound of disgust. He was obviously having trouble with the distinction. Finally he said, “Then you will both come with me.”
When Ulelo opened his eyes, he expected to see the dark, featureless walls of his cell in the Stargazer’s brig. Instead, he saw the pastel-colored environs of sickbay.
He sat up in his biobed, wondering what had happened to place him there. Then it all came back to him—the bottomless abyss into which he had felt himself falling, and the commotion around him, and the sudden, soft feeling of well-being as the contents of a hypospray mingled with his blood.
Thankfully, Ulelo didn’t feel himself toppling into a chasm anymore. He didn’t see the deep blue forest or the diamond-dust shore anymore either.
All he saw was the facility where his colleagues went when they needed medical attention, with all its stolid, reassuring familiarity. And it felt awfully good to be there.
“Ulelo?” came a voice from behind him.
He looked back over his shoulder and saw Mister Joseph approaching him. Pierzynski was present as well, though he hung back by the room’s sliding doors.
Guarding them against my leaving. But Ulelo had no desire to leave. He liked it a lot better there than in the brig.
“How do you feel?” asked Joseph.
“Well,” said Ulelo.
He did, too. And not just because his visions had left him alone. He felt clear now, clear enough to talk to someone about the images that had been plaguing him.
Before, he had felt too burdened by them to discuss them with anyone. But he didn’t feel burdened any longer.
“If it’s all right,” he told Joseph, “I’d like to speak with Commander Wu.”
Ben Zoma and McAteer were marched along a short, straight corridor, led by the alien who had stuck his head into their cell and followed by two others. Each of the aliens behind them had a disruptor leveled at their backs.
Before long, they came to an open doorway on their left. Their guide walked through it, not even bothering to look back to see if his captives were following.
But of course, they had to follow. The aliens behind them ensured that.
There was a room on the other side of the doorway, as large as their cell but lined with observation ports. There were three aliens waiting for them inside. But these weren’t like any of the invaders Ben Zoma had encountered previously. These were different in that they weren’t wearing helmets.
As they turned to their captives, their faces open and exposed, Ben Zoma got a good look at them. It was difficult for him to ignore one remarkable fact.
McAteer swore under his breath. “They look—”
“Human,” said Ben Zoma, finishing the thought for him.
In fact, the aliens looked very human, more so than almost any extraterrestrial species the first officer had ever seen. Sure, their brows overhung their eyes a bit, and their ears were small and spiral-shaped. And now that Ben Zoma looked more closely, he could make out shallow whorls in the flesh along their jaws that reminded him of fingerprint patterns.
But that was it.
On the other hand, this group didn’t dress very much like humans. It was clear from their coarse leather vests and leggings that their species still hunted wild animals. And it was equally clear from the weapons belts slung over their shoulders that wild animals weren’t all they hunted.
But they weren’t blustery, in the manner of Klingons. They seemed restrai
ned, measured. And also wary. But then, they hadn’t expected to find humans lurking on their vessel.
One of the hide-clad aliens, obviously their leader, stood there while the humans were delivered to him. The other two withdrew a step or two, deferring to him.
Ben Zoma’s handlers stopped him a meter short of the foremost alien. The same thing was done with McAteer. The invader’s eyes narrowed as he considered them.
“What is your purpose here?” he asked.
Ben Zoma didn’t say anything in response. He just stood there. And so did the admiral, to his credit.
The first officer hadn’t expected their recalcitrance to be taken lightly. In fact, he had entertained the possibility that they might be executed out of hand.
However, the alien didn’t give any sign that he was especially perturbed. He just flicked a glance at his colleague and turned back to the humans.
“Where in the ranks of your people,” said the alien, “can we find an individual called Dikembe Ulelo?”
Ulelo was no longer in sickbay. However, he wasn’t in the brig again either. He was in Captain Picard’s ready room, along with the captain and Commander Wu.
Picard was seated across his desk from Ulelo. “Commander Wu,” he said, “says you have some information for us.”
“I do,” said Ulelo. “I just don’t know what it means.”
“Commander Wu mentioned that as well,” said the captain. “Even so, we would like to hear it.”
Ulelo was happy to oblige. He told them of the places he had seen in his mind—the diamond-dust shore and the azure forest and the immense, black plain—and the people he had seen in those places, who looked so much like humans.
When he was done, Picard and Commander Wu looked at each other. “Sound at all familiar?” asked the captain.
The second officer shook her head. “Not to me.”
“Nor to me, either,” said Picard. “However, if there were humans in those places…”
“It leads credence to your suspicion that there are operatives on other starships as well.”
The captain knuckled the cleft in his chin. “We should open this up to the science section. They may be able to tell us something about the aliens’ homeworld.”
Wu nodded. “I’ll alert Kastiigan.”
Picard turned to Ulelo. “I will need you to tell Lieutenant Kastiigan what you told us.”
“Of course,” said Ulelo, glad for the chance to redeem himself. “Whatever you need me to do.”
He wished he could remember more, because that would make their job easier. But with help from the science section, maybe he could get the captain the answers he needed.
Ben Zoma looked at the alien. It was the last thing he had expected to hear. “Ulelo…?” he repeated.
“Yes,” said their captor, his expression every bit as deadly serious as before.
Ben Zoma’s mind raced. What in blazes did the invaders want with a simple com officer? For crying out loud, how did they even know that Ulelo existed?
McAteer shot Ben Zoma a look. Obviously, he was entertaining the same questions.
“If I may ask,” said the first officer, “why are you interested in this person?”
“I am the one asking the questions,” said their captor, his eyes narrowing with what was clearly impatience. “Do you or do you not know the whereabouts of Dikembe Ulelo?”
As far as Ben Zoma knew, Ulelo was still on the Stargazer. But he wasn’t about to tell the aliens that—not until he knew the reason for their curiosity.
Suddenly, McAteer pointed a finger at the alien leader and said, “He’s trying to intimidate us, Ben Zoma. He thinks we’ll give in if he’s imperious enough.”
The first officer had reached the same conclusion. But under the circumstances, he didn’t consider it a good idea to rub it in the alien’s face.
“But it won’t work,” McAteer went on, undaunted. “He may think he’s the first son of a warrior culture to try to bully a Starfleet officer. But he’s not.”
Ben Zoma saw the alien’s brow furrow. He doubted that it was a sign of amusement.
“Admiral—” said the first officer.
“We’re not going to play the game your way,” McAteer told their captor, a hint of a smile on his face. “We’re going to play it mine. I want to know why your people are attacking Federation ships, and I want to know now.”
Ben Zoma saw the aliens go stonefaced. Obviously, they weren’t pleased with the manner in which the admiral was speaking to them. And if they became a little less pleased, it could cost the away team their lives.
Ben Zoma couldn’t allow that. But what could he do about it? McAteer was on a roll.
“What’s the matter?” he demanded of their captors. “Not so talkative anymore, are you?”
The first officer put a hand on the admiral’s shoulder. “Sir, you may want to—”
“What I want,” said McAteer, shrugging off Ben Zoma’s hand, “is for these people to appreciate the bind they’re in. This is our space, Commander. They may have had some lucky breaks to this point, but they have no idea what they’re up against.” He chuckled. “No idea at all.”
The aliens looked like they were getting angrier by the minute, the whorls along their jawlines turning as livid as if they had been freshly carved. But the admiral didn’t seem to notice. Or if he did, he didn’t care.
“Sir,” said Ben Zoma a little more forcefully, “with all due respect, I’m sure we can find a common—”
“A common nothing,” McAteer snapped. “We don’t negotiate with thugs and criminals. We give them fair warning and then we whip their cowardly butts.”
It was then that one of their guards raised his weapon and trained it on the back of the admiral’s head.
Ben Zoma didn’t know if the device had a stun setting or not, and there wasn’t any time to find out. Without hesitation, he whirled and plowed into the alien as hard as he could.
They fell together in a heap, but the human didn’t take his eyes off the guard’s weapon. So when they hit the deck and rolled, Ben Zoma was able to grab his adversary’s wrist and challenge him for possession of his disruptor.
He was almost finished tearing it from the alien’s hand when he felt something wallop him in the back of the head, hard enough to make his senses swim for a moment. When he regained them, he saw their other guard standing over him.
And the one the first officer had tried to disarm? He was getting to his feet, his eyes ablaze. But he wasn’t pointing his weapon at McAteer anymore. Now he was pointing it at Ben Zoma.
“No!” came a cry, savaging the air and echoing wildly from bulkhead to bulkhead.
Ben Zoma turned and saw that it had come from the invaders’ leader. He was glaring at the guard, showing his displeasure with what he saw developing.
“First One…” said the guard, his tone unmistakably one of protest.
“Desist,” said the leader. And as Ben Zoma looked on, the guard grudgingly replaced his blaster in his shoulder holster.
The first officer turned to his benefactor. “Thank you.”
The alien lifted his chin, appearing to consider Ben Zoma and McAteer anew. His jaw muscles flexed and relaxed, making the whorls in his flesh ripple.
“You put yourself at risk,” he said at last, “for someone you clearly do not like. That is…admirable.”
Ben Zoma was stunned, but he did his best not to show it. “Thank you,” he got out.
“You are not unlike my people, the D’prayl. We too manage to put aside our enmity when blood may be spilled.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” said the first officer. “Maybe,” he added, recognizing an opportunity when he saw one, “we have other things in common as well.”
“That may be,” the alien allowed. He pointed to McAteer. “Reunite this one with his comrades.”
The admiral started to protest. Then he saw the looks on his guards’ faces and desisted.
Ben Zoma watched them ta
ke McAteer away, concerned for the admiral’s safety. But mostly he was relieved that McAteer would no longer be able to get them in trouble.
“My name is Otholannin,” said the aliens’ leader, “First One of the River People.”
Ben Zoma turned to him. “Gilaad Ben Zoma, first officer of the Federation Starship Stargazer. It’s good to meet you.” For a lot of reasons, he added silently.
Ulelo gazed over Emily Bender’s shoulder at the uptilted monitor screen, where his friend had put together a picture of a fertile, azure woodland.
“No,” said Ulelo, “a darker blue.” He pointed to a large, spade-shaped leaf. “And this should be flatter.”
Emily Bender made the indicated changes. “Like this?”
“Yes,” said Ulelo. “That’s it.”
The azure forest was the last of the images he had imparted to the people in the science section. The other images were up on other screens, where various science officers were trying to match them with planetary survey data.
No one believed that the aliens came from a world the Federation had surveyed. However, if they identified a closely matching locale, they could learn more about the invaders—and perhaps get an inkling of how to deal with them.
Emily Bender swiveled in her chair. “All right,” she said, “I’ll see if we’ve got anything like this on file. Can you think of any others?”
He could almost hear her add “…Dikembe?” But this wasn’t a friendly visit. It had to remain on a businesslike footing.
Ulelo shook his head. He had described all the images he could remember. “That’s it.”
Emily Bender looked disappointed. After all, her friend’s stay in the science section was predicated on the number of images he could describe. When he ran out, he was supposed to leave the science officers to their work.
Ulelo was disappointed too. Having had a taste of freedom, he wasn’t looking forward to returning to the brig. He wished he could stay here with his friend Emily Bender.
However, Captain Picard wouldn’t let that happen. Despite Ulelo’s demonstrated eagerness to cooperate, the captain still considered him a security risk.
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