STAR TREK: NF 13 - Gods Above

by Peter David

  “And the Enterprise cooperated with those conditions?” asked Calhoun.

  “It was necessary for us to remain on station in order to retrieve our captain from a dimensional rip.”

  “Sounds interesting.”

  “I would have thought ‘tedious’ to be the more accurate summation,” Spock replied.

  “So there’s no problem then,” said Si Cwan. “All the ships need to do is keep moving, and there shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Not necessarily. In the time since we encountered them, their weaponry has improved.”

  “So has ours,” Calhoun assured him, all business. “Now would you mind telling me what you two are doing here?”

  “Is it not obvious?” asked Spock.

  Calhoun smiled raggedly. “In retrospect, I suppose it is. You were the ones who reported that Soleta was missing. I told you I was going to come here to the senate, to confront these bastards over Soleta’s disappearance, and also the business with Kebron. To say we’re getting mixed messages regarding the Beings is to understate it. I’m tired of being told how benevolent they are and then having my people ill-treated by them.”

  “I have to say I agree, Captain,” Si Cwan said readily, “but if my weeks of experience here on Danter are any guidance, you’ll be extremely lucky even to get a word in edgewise with the Danteri senate. Gods know I tried on a number of occasions. They were certainly polite enough when they wanted me to come here initially, but they showed their true selves soon enough. Every single action I tried to take, every initiative I introduced to help bring the new Thallonian Empire to fruition, became hopelessly bogged down in committees, politics, and individual interests.”

  “I regret to inform you, Ambassador,” said Spock, “that you will find that to be the case quite frequently in virtually any governing system other than a dictatorship.”

  Si Cwan stared at him a moment. “If that was intended to disparage the worth of dictatorships, Ambassador, then I regret to inform you that you’ve failed utterly.”

  Spock merely raised a skeptical eyebrow. Then he turned back to Calhoun. “Do you have a plan as to how to proceed, Captain?”

  “I was considering going in there and hitting people until they give me what I want.”

  “Ah. The Kirk Maneuver.”

  Calhoun looked at Spock askance for a moment, not entirely sure whether that was intended as a compliment or a joke, and then pivoted on his heel and headed into the senate building. After a brief pause, Si Cwan and Spock followed him in.

  Calhoun walked past the various statues and mosaics depicting great moments in Danteri history. He knew them all too well, having been to Danter on previous excursions. Excursions that had left him with a very bitter taste in his mouth.

  Suddenly he stopped so abruptly that, had Si Cwan had slower reflexes, he would have collided with him. “Grozit,” murmured Calhoun.

  “Captain, what’s wr—?” asked Si Cwan, and then he looked around and saw it as well.

  All the depictions of the proud history of Danter were gone. In their place were mosaics of various of the Beings. They were drenched in glittering represented sunlight, and in each of the renderings, there were people on their knees, gesticulating and bowing to the Beings as they looked down benevolently at their worshippers. Calhoun spotted the rendering of Artemis instantly, and there was Anubis, and there were others as well that he didn’t immediately know.

  Si Cwan realized it too. “What happened to the frescoes? The pictures of Danteri history.”

  “History has changed.”

  It was Soleta who had spoken.

  She stood there, calmly and coolly, her hands casually in front of her and her fingers interlaced.

  And she was smiling.

  That was naturally the thing that struck Calhoun almost instantly. His Vulcan science officer was smiling. It wasn’t a broad grin or any such thing, but there was a definite smile of pleasure.

  “Lieutenant ... are you all right?” Calhoun said, taking a step toward her. “And what do you mean ‘history has changed.’ Are you saying there’s some sort of temporal shift ... ?”

  She laughed. Calhoun had never heard her laugh. It was an odd sound, like something that had rusted over and was only now being oiled into use. “No. No, Captain. This isn’t like when you slingshot us back through time. I simply meant that things are different around here now. We saw some of that before, didn’t we, Ambassador Spock?”

  “We did,” Spock said in his gravelly voice. “That was, however, before you were kidnapped. Such an action would seem to indicate an environment that is less than hospitable.”

  “I wasn’t kidnapped, Spock,” replied Soleta. “To be kidnapped, you have to be transported against your will.”

  “I think we all know the definition of kidnapped, Lieutenant,” said Calhoun. “The question is, where did you go? What did—?”

  “Captain, with all respect, those questions can wait. I want to show you something.” Without waiting for Calhoun to reply, she turned and walked toward the inner chambers of the senate. Calhoun glanced at the others, shrugged, and followed her.

  Moments later they were standing in the observation gallery of the senate. It was not at all the way Calhoun remembered it ... or, for that matter, the way Si Cwan recalled it either. The Thallonian was shaking his head in what was obvious disbelief.

  “What do you see, Si Cwan?” inquired Soleta, leaning forward on the railing, her smile only growing.

  “Well,” Si Cwan said slowly, “as opposed to my previous stay on Danter, when a typical senate meeting was marked with arguments, hostility, crosstalk, and very little sense of anything being accomplished ... what I’m seeing here is quite the opposite. Discussion about various topics seems to be proceeding in a reasoned, calm manner. People are ... well, they’re smiling ... and ...”

  “It goes deeper than that, Ambassador.” She seemed to be warming to the topic. “The spirit of the senate these days is one of total cooperation. Various projects designed to help the needy—projects which once would have stalled in endless committees—are gliding through. Resources are being allocated where they’re truly needed, instead of being hijacked by whomever has the most political coin to spend. What you’re seeing here is the ideal government, operating in perfect unity ...”

  “Like the Borg?” said Calhoun.

  She shook her head, that unassailable smile still fixedly in place. “Not at all. The Borg endeavor to use the concept of unity to obliterate races. The Danter simply use unity in order to build up their own strength of character.”

  “And the unity,” Spock said slowly, “comes from concerted worship of the Beings.”

  “Yes.”

  “And they, in turn, give you ambrosia,” said Calhoun, making no effort to hide his mounting anger. “Like drug dealers endeavoring to get poor fools hooked into a habit ...”

  She raised an eyebrow as she asked, with no heat, “Are you calling me a poor fool, Captain?”

  “You’ve eaten the ambrosia.”

  “Of course.”

  Indeed of course. Calhoun wasn’t stupid. He had more or less figured out exactly what had happened. “Lieutenant,” he informed her, “you are to report back to the Excalibur immediately. Dr. Selar will—”

  She shook her head, never looking anything less than polite and attentive. “I’m afraid that won’t be necessary, Captain. There’s nothing Dr. Selar needs to do for me. I’m quite well. Better, in fact, than I’ve ever been in my life. Than anyone has ever been in their life.”

  “Lieutenant ...”

  “Captain,” she interrupted. When she spoke her voice was slightly singsong, almost loving. “You have no idea how much confusion I’ve lived my life in. I can’t really convey it to you, but trust me, it was a lot. And now ... everything is fine. Everything is peaceful. The voices and noises in my head have stopped. Different aspects of my life make sudden sense now. And I have the Beings to thank for it, and their ambrosia. Look around
you, Captain,” and she indicated the entirety of the senate chamber with its many senators working in smooth tandem and harmony. “This is the race that conquered Xenex. Who oppressed your people for so many years. They could never do anything like that now. They are interested purely in benevolent acts, in helping themselves and others.”

  “They’re interested in serving and worshipping the Beings,” replied Calhoun.

  Soleta’s shoulders moved in a half-shrug. “That’s certainly true enough. But everything comes with a price.”

  “And tell me, Lieutenant ... what would happen if the Beings instructed the Danteri not to be so benevolent,” he asked, his voice becoming frosty. “If they dispatched them upon a holy war in order to serve their needs and desires.”

  “They would never do that.”

  “You don’t know that,” Si Cwan spoke up.

  And suddenly Calhoun felt the hair on the back of his neck prickling, a typical indication that things were suddenly about to take a downward spiral. Sure enough, there were bursts of light from all around them seconds later. Calhoun didn’t know where to turn first, but reflexively his hand went for his phaser and it was in his outstretched hand. It didn’t provide him with all that much sense of security, but at least it was something.

  A Being flared into existence next to Soleta, and Calhoun immediately recognized him from the descriptions he’d heard as Thoth. But to one side of him was Anubis, and to the other side, Artemis. They were smiling at him in the archly superior manner that only creatures who believe they hold all the cards can have. Unfortunately, Calhoun was hard-pressed to think that they didn’t hold all the cards.

  “She does know that,” Thoth said quietly. “And, candidly, it’s rather discourteous that any of you would question her understanding of matters that you know nothing about.”

  “I know you’ve given her something that’s controlling her mind,” said Calhoun.

  “Controlling? No.” In what looked appallingly like a gesture of tenderness, he brushed a strand of hair from her face. “No, the ambrosia has simply eased away some of the more frustrating and distracting concerns that have cluttered her mind. Far from controlling, she is now free to think clearly for the first time in her life.”

  “And by a fascinating coincidence,” said Spock, “once she is thinking clearly, all she is able to think of is you?”

  Thoth looked at Spock suspiciously. Then he glanced at the others as if seeking confirmation. “You know who this one reminds me of ... ?”

  “Pan,” Spock said with a slight sigh.

  The Beings actually appeared surprised. “You’ve met him?”

  “I have never had the pleasure.”

  “Captain, you really don’t have to worry about me,” Soleta assured him.

  “At the moment, I’m less worried about you than I am about the objects of your worship,” said Calhoun. “I’ve had people injured and killed because of you creatures. Did you think I’d just forget about that?”

  “We hadn’t actually given it any thought at all,” Artemis said. “That’s always been the problem with you mortals. You operate under the impression that what you say or do means anything to such as we.”

  “And yet,” said Spock, “you crave worship.”

  “We crave nothing,” Anubis spoke up, with that voice that sounded as if it was coming from beyond the grave. “We seek only gratitude in exchange for our generosity.”

  Thoth draped an arm around Soleta’s shoulders. She looked up at him with an expression of such puppylike devotion and adoration that it nearly turned Calhoun’s stomach. Every impulse screamed within him to attack this creature and its associates, but he wasn’t exactly in love with the odds.

  “In response to your other stated concern,” Thoth said, “you need not worry yourself. Holy wars generally start when mortals take it upon themselves to try and determine where the interests of the gods lie and act on their own accord. Invariably such endeavors are far more attuned to the desires of the mortals than any matters that are of concern to the gods. We are more than capable of attending to our own needs.”

  “As we are about to demonstrate,” Artemis said with a smile.

  “What are you talking about?” said Si Cwan.

  At that moment the steady, calm drone of voices and discussion which constituted the senate erupted into excited cries of joy. There were flashes of light throughout the senate floor. More of the Beings were appearing, clad in regalia from a variety of cultures and times throughout Earth history.

  “What’s going on,” said Calhoun, his eyes narrowing. “What are you up to? If you’re thinking of—”

  Anubis took two strides toward him. “You are a most strident and demanding creature for someone who we could obliterate as easily as crushing a bug beneath our feet.”

  “Anubis ...” said Artemis, sounding as if she were trying to rein him in.

  But Calhoun was barely paying any attention to her. Instead, he bolstered his phaser and stood before Anubis, crouched, hands poised as if prepared to throttle the jackal-headed god. “Make your first step,” he said.

  An angry hissed escaped from between Anubis’ teeth, and then Artemis said “Anubis!” more sharply than before. For half a heartbeat, something flickered in her face that seemed to border on concern, and then it was replaced by an easy and confident smile. “There’s no need for hostilities. Nothing is to be accomplished by it.”

  “You should have thought of that,” fired back Calhoun, “before your people damaged my ship and killed members of my crew.”

  “And you should think of that,” replied Thoth, “before you are foolish enough to challenge us again. No good will come of it, Captain, I assure you. No good at all. You just remember that. Remember how we hurt you, and can do so again. Because as the Beings are my witness, we’ve no desire to do it again. But,” he added after a significant pause, “we will. Believe it. We will.”

  “His memory is short, Thoth,” said Anubis. “Fortunately, a reminder is imminent.”

  “And we’re back to that,” Si Cwan said. “What reminder? What are you referring to ... ?”

  Artemis spoke casually, glancing at her fingernails as if she were making a pronouncement as to what style of hat was going to be in style come the spring. “Oh ... we’re simply about to show some intruders the high price of insolence. That our demands are not to be ignored.”

  And Calhoun promptly got it. Even as Si Cwan was about to ask another question, Calhoun suddenly said, “The Tholians.”

  “Of course,” Spock murmured.

  Calhoun immediately hit his combadge. “Calhoun to Excalibur. Three—” He glanced at Soleta. “Four to beam up.”

  Soleta took a concerned step in Thoth’s direction, and Thoth said warningly, “Captain ...”

  “Unable to comply, sir,” came Burgoyne’s voice. “Our shields are up.”

  Calhoun’s voice caught a moment. “Are you under attack?” he demanded.

  “No, sir. But the Tholians arrived with their weapons running hot. We’re not targeted, but we, along with the Trident, raised our shields as a precaution. If you want me to drop them—”

  “No. Maintain shields. Are you and Shelby still in communication with them?”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Patch me in.”

  “Do not attempt to thwart the will of the gods, mortal,” intoned Anubis. “I am the death walker, and I know when little mortals overstep themselves.”

  “I’ve walked some death myself, ‘god,’ ” shot back Calhoun, “and it might be wise for little gods to stay the hell out of my way.”

  “Such challenge!” called out Thoth, but he didn’t appear to be talking to Calhoun. Suddenly light flashed once more in a manner that had become all too familiar to Calhoun, and suddenly Thoth was in the center of the senate floor. Soleta was next to him, looking up at him admiringly.

  “My people!” he called out, his arms outstretched. “Worshippers of our divinity! Fellow travelers on the r
oad to greatness and glory! We who are bringing your world into a golden age! Do you believe in our vision?”

  “Yes!” The cries were ripped simultaneously from a hundred throats.

  “Do you believe in our greatness?”

  “Yes!” The word thundered and echoed from both inside the building and out, and Calhoun realized that Thoth wasn’t just there in front of them, but elsewhere as well. Or perhaps others of his fellow Beings were exhorting the Danteri simultaneously with the exact same words. Either way, it seemed the entirety of Danter was rallying behind their gods.

  “There are those who don’t! What shall we do about those who don’t!?”

  “Smite them!”

  “Fascinating,” murmured Spock.

  TRIDENT

  COMMANDER LYKENE’S VOICE was so shrill and piercing that Shelby felt as if it was going to slice off the top of her head. Nor was his (she thought it was a “he,” though with the Tholians it wasn’t always possible to be sure) visual presence on the viewscreen much easier to take.

  It was difficult to know exactly what one was looking at when encountering a Tholian. No one had ever encountered them face-to-face, in person. On screen, they appeared to be crystalline in nature, with no discernible or moving features beyond that, such as eyes or mouths. It was possible that the appearance they presented as such was a fabrication, designed to make them appear more formidable than they were. Shelby briefly imagined that the Tholians actually bore a striking resemblance to bunny rabbits in pink tutus, and that brought her some measure of relief.

  She let none of this show in her demeanor, however, as she pressed forward with trying to keep a lid on the situation. Burgoyne’s face had vanished from the two-way image on the screen. Apparently he’d received some sort of communication from Calhoun and was busy dealing with that. Shelby couldn’t help but think that Calhoun was getting the lucky end of the deal at that moment. Why couldn’t she have been smart enough to make some incredibly stupid and quixotic trip down to the planet’s surface?

  Keeping her voice calm and even, she said, “Commander, you don’t appear to be listening to what Commander Burgoyne and I have been telling you ...”