by Dayton Ward
“Looks like we’ve got a bit of a hike ahead of us,” Klisiewicz said, nodding toward the trail that Leone knew connected the village with the entrance to the caverns containing the Preserver pyramid. “Guess that’s my own fault, though. I’m the one who suggested not landing too close to the caves.” He gestured toward the security guards. “Ensign McMurray, you’re with me. Zapien, you’ll go with the doctor, and Gaulke will stay with the shuttle.” Turning to the pilot, he added, “Keep the sensors active and your eyes open. If we get any unwanted company, get the shuttle out of here and back to the Endeavour. We can always call you back, but we don’t want any of the Changed getting their hands on it.” That was just another part of the plan that bothered Leone, as the starship’s transporters still were under repair.
Gaulke nodded. “Aye, sir.”
With everyone taking charge of the equipment they had brought with them, Klisiewicz and McMurray set off up the trail. Shouldering a satchel containing—among other items—doses of the viral agent he and Amos had synthesized, Leone began walking the short distance to the village. Sensing movement to his right, he saw Seta hurrying her pace in order to walk alongside him.
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” he asked. “I don’t think anyone would think less of you if you changed your mind.” When he had explained to her how his viral agent was intended to work—how it would allow the Tomol to undergo the Change as their ancestors originally had experienced it, but without the debilitating psychological effects that were an outgrowth of the Shedai’s tampering uncounted millennia ago—Seta at first had been wary, but the girl’s uncertainty was quickly replaced by the resolve of the leader she had become. She had accepted his explanation and conveyed her trust in him, and then surprised him by taking his idea one step further with her suggestion of explaining to her people the bold decision she had made.
“I am the leader of my people,” Seta said. “Who better to show them that your desire to help us is genuine? Also, how can I expect them to trust me if I do not demonstrate my willingness to accept your treatment?”
Pretty sharp, kid.
The path turned and bent through the woods, widening as they approached the outskirts of the village. Even now Leone saw some of the same structures he had encountered during their first visit, along with larger buildings and huts in the distance toward the village square. Though she said nothing, Seta increased her pace and now was walking in front of Leone, leading the small party. Tomol who observed their approach began gathering along their path.
“Gather everyone!” Seta shouted, holding out her hands. “Tell them that we will meet at the village square.” There were murmurs from the crowd as Seta’s instructions were passed on, and as the priestess continued walking, many of the Tomol fell in behind Leone and the others. In short order there were dozens of villagers walking with them, and more were adding themselves to the procession. To either side of the main thoroughfare, Leone saw still more Tomol moving between huts and other structures, but everyone seemed to be heading in the same general direction.
Everybody loves a party.
The village square was, as far as he could tell, exactly what its name implied: a mostly rectangular expanse of open space bounded on all sides by several of the settlement’s larger and more ornate structures. Its sole feature was a raised dais at its center, and villagers already were gathering around the platform, leaving a path to it clear for Seta.
Two Tomol women, whom Leone thought he recognized from his previous visit to the village, emerged from the crowd, carrying the feathered ceremonial garb Seta had worn during his first encounter with the priestess. They helped her drape the elaborate garment across her shoulders, which reminded Leone that despite her young age, she carried a weighty responsibility well beyond her years. Now suitably attired, Seta ascended the dais and stood at its center, waiting in silence as villagers continued to stream into the square. According to the chronometer on Leone’s tricorder, it took nearly twenty minutes for what he guessed was the balance of the village’s population to make their way to the gathering place. From where he, Amos, and Zapien stood next to the dais, the doctor looked out upon the hundreds of faces looking toward their priestess, and he could hear the rumbling of numerous conversations taking place throughout the crowd. On the stage, Seta stood silent, waiting, and Leone could not help but be impressed by her poise at being the focus of so many expectant people.
“Kid’s got guts,” Zapien said.
Amos nodded. “You better believe it.”
A group of four Tomol, two females and two males, dressed in ceremonial garb that was similar to Seta’s robes but less adorned with colorful feathers, moved through the crowd and stepped onto the dais, each taking a position at one of the platform’s corners. This seemed to be an understood signal of some sort, as Leone noticed an immediate cessation of chatter among the gathered Tomol. Within moments, the entire square fell quiet, the silence so complete that the doctor was able to hear Seta draw a long breath before raising her arms as though to embrace the audience.
“Thank you for joining me. I know that this is a time of difficulty for all of us. One of our own has embraced the Change, and as it has been told to us for generations, you have seen the destruction she has wrought. You have felt the fear she brings. We have lost many friends and loved ones, both to death and to Nimur’s influence.
“But I am here to tell you that I have seen a way for us to emerge from this trial. The Shepherds have given us the tools so that we might see ourselves through these troublesome times, but we cannot do it alone.” For the first time, she gestured toward Leone, Amos, and Zapien. “These are friends, who have traveled a great distance and who now stand ready to help us. With Priestess Ysan’s tragic passing, they have helped me to understand what I must do as your Holy Sister. I trust them with my life, just as you have pledged your trust to me.”
“What can they do to help us against the Changed?” a voice called from the audience. Several shouts of support accompanied the question, and a renewed murmuring swept over the crowd.
“That is but one of the things they have pledged to help us understand. As you all know from the stories given to us by the Shepherds and the wordstone, each of us will embrace the Change if we do not commit to the Cleansing. What we have not understood—what has never been explained to us—are the true reasons for the lives we lead here on Suba. Nimur was right when she tried to tell us that the Change is not a scourge or a punishment! We were always meant to ascend in this way, to achieve a higher form of existence, but the Dark Gods who once enslaved our ancestors perverted that destiny. They twisted our people ages ago, using us to secure their own selfish desires.”
The mumbles of confusion were getting louder, but to her credit Seta ignored them. She moved about the dais, making sure to look in each direction so that she made contact with all her fellow Tomol. Tapping her chest, she said, “Here, inside each of us, deep within our blood and bone, is the truth.” She pointed to Leone with one hand while holding up her other arm. “This man and his friends showed me that when the Shepherds brought our forebears here from our world far away among the most distant of stars, it was to protect us from what the Dark Gods had done to us. They did not know how to help our people, so they left us here to live in peace. We can still do that, but without the need for the Cleansing, and without a need to fear the Change!”
“How is that possible?” another voice shouted.
“We are to become like Nimur?”
“The Shepherds will see us cast for all time among the Endless!”
For the first time, Seta appeared nervous, and Leone could see that the young priestess was beginning to fear that she was losing the support of her followers. She looked to Leone, who nodded and offered what he hoped was a smile of encouragement. After a moment, she seemed to regain her bearing and straightened her posture. Around her on the dais, the four robed Tomo
l were raising their arms, attempting to reestablish order among the assembled villagers. Only when the crowd returned to silence did Seta speak again.
“I understand your doubts. I understand your fear. I have only been a priestess for a short time, but many of you know me from my apprenticeship under Ysan. You know that I am not rash or given to pretense.” Once more, she gestured to Leone. “These friends of mine are healers, and they are ready to help us cast off the madness that grips us when the Change comes. They will help us take back the very birthright that has been withheld from us.”
“What will they do to us?” asked one of the villagers standing just a few meters from Leone, his wide, golden eyes studying the doctor with obvious distrust. It required physical effort for the doctor not to reach for the phaser on his hip, and he cast a glance at Zapien, shaking his head to tell the ensign not to draw his weapon either.
“He has brought a medicine,” Seta said, “a medicine he made for us. Once given, it will allow us to welcome the Change as we were meant to, without the curse placed upon us so long ago by the Dark Gods. We will be free to live in peace and to explore the destiny denied us for countless generations.”
“How do we know this is not a deception?” cried another doubter. “How can we be sure?”
“There is but one way to be sure,” Seta said, moving back toward Leone and the others. “The medicine must be given to us. I shall be the first. I will take it to prove to you that it is not a threat. However, as the time of my Change will not come for several sun-turns, we will not know if this will work on me for some time. There are those among us whose time is coming much sooner. If you are willing, you too can take the medicine after you see that it does not harm me. Only when the time of Change comes to you will we know for certain.”
She paused, staring out at the hundreds of faces looking back at her, and Leone noted the varying expressions of the Tomol nearest to them. Indecision, skepticism, fear, and worry, of course, but he also saw . . . anticipation? He could not be sure.
Seta, on the other hand, seemed confident. Turning to Leone, she smiled once again. “Are you ready, Leone?”
“Wait!”
The sharp voice was loud enough to make Leone turn to look for the source, and his eyes widened. Two Tomol males, strapping specimens, to say the least, were making their way through the crowd, and the doctor again stopped his hand’s movement toward his phaser. Zapien stepped forward, his hand dropping to his hip, and Amos moved back a step until she bumped into the dais. Before Leone or Zapien could brandish his weapon, the two villagers stopped before the platform.
“We choose to stand with the Holy Sister,” said one of the Tomol. Looking to Leone, he added, “Give us your medicine as you would Seta.”
Leone felt his eyebrows rising as though they might try to hide themselves under his hair. “Really?” Then he realized that other Tomol, males and females, were emerging from the crowd. Each of them in turn made a similar pledge to Seta.
“I’ll be damned,” Amos said.
“Okay,” Leone replied. “Me, too, I guess.” As he spoke, he heard new rumblings from the crowd, but the tone now was noticeably different. The villagers, a portion of them, at least, seemed to be favoring what was happening at the dais.
Beaming with pride in the confidence and trust bestowed upon her, Seta stepped down from the dais, touching each of the Tomol volunteers on the arm before moving to stand before Leone. “Shall we begin?”
* * *
The obelisk was a gold mine. Of this, Stephen Klisiewicz held no doubts whatsoever.
“I can hear your jaw hitting the ground even up here, Lieutenant,” said Captain Khatami over the speaker of his open communicator. “What have you found?”
Standing before the polished bronzelike artifact situated in the middle of the massive underground cavern, Klisiewicz’s first instinct as he beheld the ancient construct was to shout, “Everything!” He managed to maintain his composure and instead replied, “With Seta’s help, we were able to enter the cavern. From what I can tell, we found the pyramid in the same position and configuration as the last time Commander Theriault and her team saw it.” The Tomol priestess had come to assist him following her audience back in the village. “So far, Doctor Leone’s viral agent seems to be causing no ill effects.”
“We’re able to pick up the pyramid’s power readings, even without an intense sensor scan,” Khatami said. “Any idea what it might be doing?”
“Nothing yet, Captain,” Klisiewicz replied. A low, omnipresent reverberation was audible, though he had no idea from where it might be coming. It seemed to be all around him, in the cavern’s floor, walls, and ceiling. As for the structure itself, although it featured no light sources or other illumination, Klisiewicz could not shake the sensation that the thing oozed power. “Whatever Seta did when she was here with the Sagittarius team, the obelisk is still showing significant signs of energy usage, drawing from the geothermal power source deep in the bedrock.”
“Have you found a way inside, or made any progress translating more of the glyphs?”
“Yes to both questions, Captain.” Klisiewicz moved down one side of the pyramid toward his recent discovery. “There is an entrance leading into the obelisk that Seta says wasn’t here before. She thinks it must’ve opened when she spoke the commands she thought would give her access. As for the glyphs, everything I’ve been able to translate so far relates to the Preservers and some of the measures meant to protect the Tomol if any of them becomes Changed.”
“That sounds promising.”
Klisiewicz replied, “I don’t know if I’d go that far. From what I can tell, the defense system—for lack of a better term—went operational the moment Nimur’s genetic transformation had progressed to a point of divergence from the Tomol and she started exhibiting signs of her superior strength, telekinetic powers, and so on. As far as I can determine, these protocols have two basic purposes: protect the Tomol and contain the Changed. Not kill them, just contain them.”
“That would explain why that petrification process keeps alive anyone or anything it traps. Can it be reversed?”
Klisiewicz blew out his breath. “I haven’t found that yet, Captain, but I’m working on it. However, it might end up not mattering. From what I’m able to gather, the defense system is one of increasing escalation. The lances carried by the Wardens in the village are among the first, immediate responses, then it grows from there, and the petrification process isn’t the top end of that scale.”
“So what is?”
“I don’t have the first damned idea, Captain. At least, not yet. We’ve found what’s basically an armory containing weapons that operate in similar fashion, but they look to pack a lot more punch. There are enough of them here to arm a whole squadron of soldiers. Seta didn’t know anything about them, but a cache of this size might explain why the obelisk was off-limits to all but a trusted few. They didn’t want just anyone to have access to it.”
“You’ll be securing some of those weapons, Lieutenant?”
“Already done it, Captain,” Klisiewicz said. Once the Changed surmised that he and his people were here, aiding Seta and the rest of the Tomol, they would be coming. The science officer had no doubt about that. “There’s something else you should know. Some of the symbols I’ve read indicate that if the upper echelon of these protocols is deployed, the Preservers will come to investigate.”
“I don’t think waiting for them is an option, Lieutenant,” Khatami said, “so that means it’s up to you. I’m not leaving any of our people behind. Finding a way to reverse that process is your first priority. Understood?”
“Understood, Captain,” Klisiewicz said. As the communication ended, the science officer felt the weight of responsibility pressing down on his shoulders. Before him, the obelisk stood in silence, waiting. For what, he had no idea. Maybe it waited so that it could help him
find the answers he sought, or perhaps it stood ready to thwart him at every turn.
“Decipher a dead language, and figure out how to use an ancient pyramid to stop a band of homicidal monsters. Oh, and find a way to reverse a process that should take hundreds of years and instead make it happen in minutes.” Klisiewicz shook his head as he pondered the herculean tasks that lay before him. “Yeah, no pressure.”
24
“Everybody stop looking at me,” Katherine Stano joked, glancing at the thirteen people who had crammed themselves into the shuttlecraft Masao’s seating area, behind her and Lieutenant Lerax. “And stop sweating. And breathing. This place stinks worse than my first apartment.”
Chuckles answered her mock order as those passengers not occupying the five seats behind her steadied themselves in response to the shuttlecraft’s lifting from the ground. Stano glanced over her shoulder and saw the Klingon, Tormog, glowering at her from where he sat in the rear seat on the cabin’s starboard side. From the look on his face, he had not appreciated her attempt at humor, or perhaps he thought it more a verbal jab directed at him.
He does have that lived-in smell about him.
The shuttle swayed a bit until Stano activated maneuvering thrusters to keep the Masao stable. She tapped a series of controls on the forward control console, and the craft’s nose lifted as she guided the Masao up and away from the Sagittarius. With repairs to the scout ship completed, or as complete as they were going to get for the time being, she had opted to take as many members of her landing party as possible with her aboard the Masao, if for no other reason than to keep them out of the way. However, Commander Yataro and a select few members of his engineering team remained aboard the scout in order to render any needed assistance. The onboard computer had calculated transit time to the Tomol village at less than ten minutes, but that was at the speed on which Captain Terrell had decided for his compromised ship, and assuming the vessel even managed to make it out of the clearing.