The Demon Book 1

by Loren L. Coleman

  Finally, he seemed to reach the councilman, as his tongue wiggled for several long seconds. The Resaurian suddenly leaned forward and rested onto his legs for the first time in Gold’s presence.

  “Captain, it matters not what we did. Nor, by the egg, does it matter to you. This is our business and our station. You cannot interfere.”

  “Like hell I can’t. That may be your station, but my people are on it.” Gold was gratified to finally see some real emotion from Sha’a, as the councilman rocked back onto his tail and wove his head back and forth, quickly. That had taken him by surprise. “This may be Resaurian business, but you forgot to stick up a sign saying ‘no trespassing.’ We received a distress signal, we moved to assist, and now I’ve got seven of my crew trapped on that tin can. I’m going to get them out.”

  “You cannot do this.”

  “You don’t seem to understand, Sha’a. My people are down there and I’m going to get them out. If that requires I pull out the entire space station and hand you back your exiles, so be it.”

  With that he motioned and the front screen went dark.

  Time to bring his crew home.

  Captain S’linth’s lips ached from the act of not baring his fangs in dismay. He’d gone seven cycles on this bridge. Seven cycles of unfailing service to the Nest and the joy of exploring the astronomical wonders in near space; how had it come to this?

  Suliss and Sha’a were bent in a whispered conversation, while he stood on the side, forgotten. He’d known that the real power behind each ship was the Council, regardless of how much a captain flexed against his overseer, but only now did he understand what a figurehead he truly was. A figurehead to be cast aside when necessary.

  S’linth tasted the air and found a raw, blood harshness that demonstrated a will of iron. A will to do anything to accomplish what must be done.

  He did not like it. Did not like it at all.

  Could what the aliens said be true? Could their ancestors really have done something so terrible? Could the Council know about it? Could the stalwart councilman (ever the captain’s crèche supporter) know of this?

  He stabbed the air multiple times, drawing in as much sensation as he could muster. Try as he might, he could not deny what stood before him.

  Against all tradition, he slithered forward, intruding, spoke.

  “Third Councilman Sha’a, what will you do?”

  Suliss, the nictitater, so afraid of the events transpiring before, rose up in fury and righteous indignation with power at his side, only to be cut off by a small gesture from Sha’a.

  “Captain,” he hissed softly, “what do you feel should be done?”

  “I simply don’t know, Councilman. I don’t know.”

  He hissed laughter. “That is what I’ve always appreciated about you, Captain. Your are unfailingly truthful. However, I know what we must do. There really is no question.” He turned to look back toward the now black viewscreen. “They must be stopped.”

  Chapter

  14

  Fabian and Pattie had worked a small miracle, one of several, routing the phased communication array back to the station’s bridge. Cannibalizing a pattern enhancer for its amplifier circuits and reverse-engineering one of the station companels to meld it to Federation technology, they now had a working station that allowed for an only slightly distorted audio signal between the away team and the da Vinci.

  Of course, it would never have worked without Tev’s network of probes, forming a strong enough reception grid that the away team did not need to rely on the Resaurian method of a ninety-three-year transmission, but that’s what teamwork meant. Didn’t it?

  A burst transmission squealed over the speakers. Sonya captured it, pulled it out over a better length of time.

  “Waiting on your order,” Tev told her.

  “We’re still getting ready here. Wait one.” Sonya reminded herself to keep it short. Due to the time dilation, which was closer to two hundred percent than the eight hundred they had believed from S’eth’s story, Tev would have to capture and speed up her sentences. If she bothered with many more long-winded reports, it would be another several hours of time on the da Vinci before they could attempt the rescue operation.

  Another of Tev’s inspirations—and a good one—was realizing that the gravitational anchor could be grabbed onto from the ship. Rather than skating the da Vinci down its length, worrying the entire time if they could make the careful rendezvous and then climb back out along the extremely narrow channel, Tev would use a modified dekyon beam to uproot the anchor while Gold “threw the ship into reverse” to haul them out like some kind of shuttle-pull event.

  She had not been stinting with her praise, either.

  “Tev, that’s ingenious.” It didn’t matter that Fabian had provided the initial genesis of the plan with his story about Voyager’s run-in with a small singularity. He had put it all together and delivered a sound and only seemingly impossible plan. The hallmark of an excellent Starfleet engineer.

  His answer? “Of course.”

  Self-righteous prig, she thought. How many times would he knock away her hand, even when it reached out to give him some applause?

  “How are we doing?” Sonya called out, checking her team’s status.

  Lense stood by near Sonya, no doubt hoping her services would not be needed but ready nonetheless.

  Security held positions at the operations center’s only two entrances, keeping a low profile as they watched for anything that might resemble more of the Resaurian’s makeshift weapons. So far, things looked on the up and up.

  Pattie and Fabian tore into another of the workstations. The one kept in the best working order by S’eth’s crew. Three of the Resaurians hovered over them, worriedly wringing hands and making small ducking motions with their sinuous necks. This was the gravitational anchor control station, working in direct concert with the station shielding as S’eth had promised. The S.C.E. team had no intention of dropping the shields, however.

  They were working to strengthen them.

  Pattie scuttled out from behind the panel’s open back, trailing some waveform guides that she had managed to remove in favor of Federation EPS conduit. Amazing what one could salvage from an environmental suit.

  “Fabian just about has it. If we can strengthen the shield harmonics, we can hopefully ‘lighten’ the displacement of the entire station.” She said that loud enough for any Resaurian ears. Quietly, the Nasat added, “And for all of S’eth’s complaints, we are not the first ones to do this. You wondered why the time dilation was only two hundred percent? Because the shields are already running at double strength.”

  So the Resaurian prisoners had lived through four hundred years of captivity? Their life spans weren’t that long. Or was the modification more recent? Something on the order of one hundred years? About the same length as the distress call? She looked for S’eth, and found him slithering a narrow box around Fabian’s work area. What more wasn’t the Resaurian leader telling her?

  Mysteries to be solved later. Fabian came squirming out from under the smaller access panel. “Good as we’re going to get,” he said. “I got us another twenty-five percent. Any more and we might overload the circuits.”

  S’eth held himself rock-steady. “I would not recommend that.”

  Sonya could almost feel sorry for the Resaurian. “Neither would I,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

  Fabian went back to the anchoring station, Pattie to the main power supply junction in case the heavy power demands required a quick reroute. Lense moved a bit closer to Sonya, who stayed at her post at the communications panel.

  Domenica and Rennan smiled their support. Vinx was picking his teeth with a small metal toothpick, slouching back against the wall as if it were just another day for an Iotian.

  Sonya opened a channel. “Ready as we’re going to be,” she said, echoing Fabian’s report. And because she couldn’t resist: “Pop the clutch, Captain.”

  Gripping th
e sides of her station, she spared one more glance behind her. “Everyone might want to grab hold of something.”

  Tev sniffed contently. Satisfaction radiated from every pore. A flow of organized chaos spun itself around him on the bridge as almost every crew member present moved to his strings. The only mar on the moment: the absence of Commander Gomez, whose attitude usually revolved around the question of what Tev had done for her lately. She would not be here to see him in his best form.

  Then again, she would be rescued by his orchestration, and that held its own appeal.

  “Tev.” The captain greeted him as Gold strode onto the bridge. “Well, it appears that things are well in hand.” Tev only nodded in response, too absorbed in the execution of his plan to be truly aware of extraneous details.

  His pudgy fingers moved swiftly across the interface, bringing the final bits of information in. Though the away team would not be brought back without him, he admitted to Gomez’s aid in collecting and transmitting some key data. Specifics on the gravitational anchor, gleaned from this S’eth, being the most important. She’d been of some use, at least.

  “Ensign Haznedl,” Tev spoke abruptly. “I need that final data analysis immediately.”

  “Yes, sir. I’m finishing up the compression now.”

  The operations officer didn’t have the proper deference in her voice while speaking to a superior, but Tev simply couldn’t spare a moment to instruct her. As with so many on this ship, he’d take her aside later and inform her of her error.

  “Got it. Looks like the team peaked the yield at twenty-six-point-seven percent. They’ve got a good grip.” The ensign shot the data over to Tev’s workstation only after her commentary.

  Pulling in the last of the data, Tev trusted nothing to the analysis of someone else. He reviewed it himself, and pulled it into shape. The puzzle finally fit…and the whole resonated within his mind at its magnificence.

  A plan well thought out and about to be well executed.

  “Captain,” he said. “The system is ready when you are.”

  Gold ordered Shabalala to sound yellow alert and to be ready to go to red alert should the Resaurians attempt to interfere. As if that ranked higher in importance than his mission; why had the captain not waited for his statement?

  “Captain,” he said louder, standing up to formally gain notice.

  A few more frustrating moments passed as the captain finished debriefing tactical and then turned toward Tev.

  “Yes, Tev?”

  No contrition whatsoever! “Captain, the system is stabilized and ready to initiate.”

  “I know you told me once before, Tev, but humor an old man and explain it again. In as simple terms as possible.”

  He had no compunction about explaining it again, though he thought the captain must be attempting human-style humor again; he had explained it simply before.

  “I have precise measurements on the gravitational anchor being extended from the station. Our modified dekyon beam will act as a grapple, uprooting it and binding it to us instead of local subspace. The probes I’d previously deposited not only established contact with Commander Gomez but are now acting as a regulating grid within the photon sphere, helping to inhibit the blacksplash of gravimetric waves around the station and the anchor as well.” Tev realized he was almost sweating with the effort of simplifying his explanation. “This will allow us to latch on to the anchor and, using the probes to synchronize the energy levels and minimize any stress waves, it will be a simple matter to pull the entire station past the photon sphere and ultimately out of the black hole’s gravity well.”

  “It appears as though you’ve got every base covered.”

  “Of course I have,” Tev responded, surprised.

  “Do you see any reason not to engage?”

  Tev furrowed his brow, wondering if the captain was calling him on something. Had the captain noticed something he had not? Or was this simply Gold’s way? “No, Captain, there is no reason to delay whatsoever.”

  Gold sat down in his seat and surveyed his crew. Then with a firm nod, he said, “Good. Engage.”

  Tev nodded in return and seated himself once more. With satisfaction he initiated the sequence.

  Power flowed down computer systems and ignited the dekyon tractor beam. Transmitted signals flashed down relays to the probes, igniting their own sequences, energy pulsing and meshing into a cohesive whole to bring the station out.

  Data readouts confirmed all systems nominal, and the da Vinci, without even a tremble, began moving backward. Data streams from inside the photon sphere confirmed the displacement of the station from its anchored position for so many centuries; it began to gain altitude above the event horizon.

  Settling back, content, Tev knew there really was nothing further to do but allow the computer to execute his masterful plan.

  The tension on the bridge, held at a peak for several minutes, now began to ease as long seconds passed and success seemed imminent. Just as Tev readied a vocal transmission to Gomez, a fluctuation on his data terminal caused him to pause momentarily. It had been entirely within his stress parameters, but he could not deny that it bothered him. There should not have been—

  Vertigo stretched a sickening hand across the bridge, and Tev’s inner ear complained. The ship lurched horribly, flinging crew around like a crazed giant tired of its playthings. Tev, wedged tightly in his seat, survived the worst of it, his grip iron-strong on the edge of his workstation, eyes bolted to the readouts.

  —an entire crashing of waves splintered and shattered across his terminal—the beauty of his order shattered by chaos.

  Chapter

  15

  This could not be happening.

  Tev frantically punched up data readouts and yet each contained the same information. As the crew scrambled to secure the ship and the pounding it was taking from the horrible backsplash of gravimetric waves, Tev sat as an island of one, wholly concentrating in an effort to save his beautiful, ordered plan. The gravitational anchor that he had snared, uprooted, was loose, and slipping through subspace as it clawed for purchase. Tev fought to reestablish a hold on it with his dekyon grapple. Missed.

  The captain’s call to him finally intruded on the third try and Tev turned to look in Gold’s direction.

  “What happened?!” The discourtesy of the yell did not even penetrate.

  “I do not know, Captain.”

  “What do you mean, you don’t know?”

  “One moment, the dekyon beam and the energy grid through the probes inside were stable and the next…chaos.” For the first time in his life, Tev stared defeat in the face and it left him speechless.

  “Tev!” the captain yelled once more to overcome his shock. “This is why you are here. You’re the only one who can tell us what happened. You! No one else.”

  The praise sank in and stuck, pulling enough of him out of the stupor to ignite his fierce intellect.

  Fingers once more probed for electronic answers. They had to be here. The fluctuations he’d seen were not from the ship. He could not verify that they did not originate from the station, but if he assumed competence on the part of Commander Gomez…

  Tev hardly noticed another breaking wave of gravimetrics that tossed the ship about like a cork in the surf, sending Lieutenant Shabalala straight into a bulkhead.

  If not the ship and not the station…Tev remembered the captain’s conversation with tactical. He reset his parameters, searching…found it!

  “Captain,” Tev said.

  “What?”

  “I’ve found the anomaly.”

  “And?”

  “The Resaurian ship, Captain. Its tractor beam is attempting to latch on to our ship.”

  The da Vinci tumbled, and an EPS conduit blew sparks out from beneath the operations console. Ensign Haznedl fell out of her chair, her uniform scorched and torn.

  Gold hung into his seat with white knuckles and a furious glare for the cause of this chaos. “Did the
y cause this?”

  “I think it could be,” Tev said. The admission was difficult. This fit the parameters, but he couldn’t be certain. “Such interference could easily have shattered the dekyon beam.”

  Rage suffused Gold’s face. As the captain dealt with that news, Tev turned to a strident alarm from his interface; the anchor was slipping farther into the gravity well, toward the photon sphere.

  Which meant that the space station was falling toward the Demon’s event horizon.

  Power failures began in the jury-rigged communications station, cutting Sonya off from the da Vinci. She had all of three seconds’ warning. Enough time to begin, “I think there’s something—” and then a shower of sparks exploded from the primary power relay being guarded by P8 Blue.

  The Nasat chirruped an alarm, sprayed down the junction with fire retardant chemicals, and then leapt for the secondary relay to work on a quick power transfer. It blew up just about in her face, shooting flame and globules of hot molten steel toward her eyes. Pattie curled up into a protective ball, and was still.

  Resaurians reacted quickly, shouting for S’eth and swarming toward the gravitational anchor controls as well as to either exit. Corsi disappeared within a rush of snakelike bodies, carried with them into the corridor beyond. S’eth was one of those congregating around the anchor controls, worried that the overloads might dump power to the most critical system on the station.

  Fabian stayed with him, monitoring, calling out the shift in shield harmonics. “Down ten percent…twenty-five…forty!”

  Which meant the anchor characteristics were changing by the second, as was the station’s subjective displacement. Sonya had turned toward Pattie, but Lense was faster and she was needed here, to get back in touch with the da Vinci. Yanking open the maintenance access cover, she reached in to grab hold of her team’s work.