by Peter David
Robin felt her throat starting to close, and then the doors to the turbolift slid open. The bridge lay before her. Her legs moved her forward, practically on autopilot. She felt as if she were viewing the world through a distorted lens. Calhoun turned and looked at her curiously. “Robin? Is something wrong?”
My mother is insane. Drunk with power. Unlimited machine power with no human conscience. A danger to everyone on this vessel.
“Nothing, Captain. Nothing at all. Just…a headache.”
“Do you need to go lie down?” he said solicitously.
“I’ll be fine,” said Robin, taking her seat at ops without really being aware that she was doing so. “I’ll be just…fine.”
AF1963
I’ve never seen anything like it before.
The phrase had become something of a cliché. It had worked its way into so many science logs and recordings of encounters with previously unknown phenomena that students at Starfleet Academy laughed about it.
Soleta was not laughing. Not now. For she truly had never seen anything like it before. The closest she had come was the inside of a Dyson sphere.
It was a vast underground facility that appeared to go on forever. Vast stretches of alien machinery were working away at tasks that she couldn’t even begin to guess about. She felt like an insect looking up at the accomplishments of higher life-forms and trying to fathom them; she was that outclassed, and she knew it. It was humbling. It was also annoying.
Selar was standing next to her and looked just as disconcerted, although naturally she managed to cover it extremely well. They had both activated their tricorders as soon as they had materialized. “Which way?” said Selar in a low voice.
Soleta didn’t have the faintest idea.
They were standing on a rampway that seemed to run the length of the place, although it was difficult to tell for certain considering how big it was. “This way,” said Soleta, hoping to overcome her uncertainty by speaking in as authoritative a manner as possible.
“You do not actually have any idea, do you.”
That didn’t deter Soleta from firing Selar an imperious look and heading off as if the very notion were too ridiculous for her to discuss. Selar hesitated only a moment and then fell into step behind her.
Two of the Brethren emerged from a side corridor.
The women froze where they were, Soleta’s hands resting on the tricorder. The Brethren walked toward them and then began tapping on the sides of their helmets in what was obvious confusion. Seizing the opportunity, Soleta and Selar sidled past them, gracefully moving to either side and not coming into contact with them despite the narrowness of the passage. Seconds later they were past them. Soleta watched over her shoulder as the Brethren shook their helmeted heads and then kept walking.
It worked, Selar mouthed to Soleta. Soleta shrugged back as if to say, Of course. Did you expect anything else? Inwardly, though, she felt extremely relieved.
Then she realized an opportunity had presented itself. She turned quickly, aimed the tricorder at the Brethren, and used it to lock in basic life readings. Her eyes widened at some of the stats she was receiving. The Brethren were like miniature volcanoes on two legs. She didn’t understand how they weren’t simply spontaneously combusting.
Selar stepped in close to her and said, “Now what?”
“Now,” whispered Soleta, “I set the tricorder for any non-Brethren life-forms. And we see what we’ve got.”
Moments later she had multiple readings. They appeared to be clustered about five hundred meters ahead and ten meters straight down.
Tentatively they continued on their way. Every so often they would encounter more of the Brethren, and they would avoid detection through the same process. Soleta’s concern was that they would start to notice it as a recurring pattern, realize it was a coordinated deception of their detection devices, and take offensive action the very next time it happened. The two women might have been “invisible,” but if the Brethren just started firing away, even blindly, there was every chance that they’d get lucky and the women would get unlucky.
They reached a ramp that angled steeply downward. They followed it, gripping the handrail to make sure that they didn’t fall. Moments later they reached the bottom level. Soleta looked up. The ceiling of the place stretched high above like a vast cathedral.
“There,” whispered Selar, and pointed. Soleta saw where she was indicating and led the way. She had no idea why she did so, but she pulled out her phaser and kept it at the ready, proceeding one step at a time.
For a heartbeat her mind was torn away from where she was and she could “see” Lucius lying unmoving on the floor of the Spectre. She had no idea where her vessel was and, by this point, she wasn’t entirely sure she ever wanted it back. Then she refocused her attention on the problem at hand. She certainly didn’t need to let herself get distracted.
There was a glow ahead of them, accompanied by a steady hum. They weren’t going to be able to see it clearly until they were practically on top of it, which didn’t particularly thrill Soleta. But there was no way around it.
They stepped around a huge column that was lined with what appeared to be circuitry and then Soleta blinked in amazement.
There were rows upon rows of clear canisters lined up. Even though they were elevated about ten feet off the floor, Soleta could still easily make out the contents.
There were bodies in each of the canisters.
The bodies were enveloped in thick, bubbling liquid that appeared to be preserving them, even nurturing them, and then Soleta saw the bodies twitching ever so slightly even as their eyes remained closed. They were alive. Every damned one of them. It was like a living mortuary. There were all different races represented, except…
Not just races. Half-breeds. With some it was barely detectable, and with others it was extremely obvious. She had trouble believing that all of them had occurred naturally. The Klingon with the light blue skin and white hair of an Andorian; a human with the piggish snout and mane of a Tellarite, on and on.
But it did not end there. Each of the canisters had elaborate arrays of tubes attached to them, and the tubes apparently ran to another point entirely. That point was easily discerned: It was a vast ring of more tubes, upright rather than horizontal, surrounding them. There were bodies in there as well, but whereas most of the bodies in the horizontal tubes were fully grown, or at least fully developed, the bodies in the upright tubes looked as if they were being…
“…grown,” said Selar, completing the thought that was going through Soleta’s head. “They’re being grown. These—” and she indicated the bodies in the horizontal tubes, “are serving as source material for those.”
“Clones? They’re growing clones? My God, why?”
Selar was using her tricorder to get readings on the developing creatures. “This is…it makes no sense. They have no brain activity. How can they have no brain activity? Why would they be growing brain-dead bodies? Why—?”
Instantly they became silent, having both heard it at the same time. Soleta froze where she was, unmoving.
Three Brethren strode into the area as if they were moving with a purpose. They took a position, stood back to back, and stayed right where they were.
One of them was looking directly at Soleta.
She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. She rapidly began to slow her heart rate. It spiraled downward at breathtaking speed; a human would have collapsed. Soleta managed to remain on her feet. It was as if she was willing herself to blend with the shadows in order to avoid detection.
He didn’t look away from her.
She slowed her heartbeat further. She was beginning to feel light-headed. She should really have been sitting, but she willed herself to remain on her feet.
Still he remained focused on her. He didn’t see her. She knew he didn’t see her. But he was trying to. He suspected she was there, but could not be absolutely certain. And obviously he didn’t want to start firing
blindly because he would hit some of the bodies in storage and cause all manner of damage.
A few feet away, she could see Selar doing the exact same thing. Their eyes met briefly and then both of them descended into themselves, stopping just shy of a total self-induced trance lest they topple over.
Time slowed to a crawl and then, finally, the Brethren resumed their march. The women didn’t know whether they knew that someone was in the complex for sure or if they just had vague suspicions; either way they moved on leaving Soleta and Selar behind.
It took the women a full minute to restore their bodily processes to normal. They did not exhale in relief or trade comments about how lucky they were. They remained focused on their situation.
They began moving along the rows of canisters, trying to find some trace of Cwansi. There was no doubt in Soleta’s mind at this point they would find the child there. It was just a matter of being patient.
She also studied the control panels that were monitoring the various canisters. She continued not to recognize a good deal of the technology, but some of it looked vaguely familiar to her. She had to hope that she would be able to operate it when the time came.
“There.”
She had spoken so softly that Soleta almost didn’t hear her. Then she turned and saw where Selar was pointing, and her heart skipped a beat.
It was Cwansi. He was floating in a canister the same size as any of the others, sleeping peacefully.
“Now what?” said Selar.
“Now we get him out.”
She studied the edges of the canister, circling it, trying to find some means of opening it. There was nothing. No visible latch, no unlocking mechanism. Deciding to take a different approach, she went over to the computer array and began studying it, looking for some means of opening it in that manner.
“Well?” said Selar.
“If I had about three days to study this, I might be able to make some headway,” said Soleta impatiently. “No promises, though.”
“Then perhaps the best way to proceed would be—”
“What?!”
They turned as one, and Soleta saw an astounded Lucius looking at her.
Her first impulses were to demand to know what he was doing there and how he had survived when Selar had said he was dead, to struggle with her sense of betrayal over what he had done to her. Had she allowed herself to give into those impulses, she would have landed herself in even deeper trouble. Fortunately she was able to follow her second impulse, which was to move so quickly that Lucius didn’t have time to react as she swung her phaser around and caught him squarely in the jaw with the butt end. Lucius stumbled backward over his own feet and fell against Cwansi’s canister. She caught him just before he slid to the floor and, turning quickly, slammed him against the computer console.
Selar stepped in and, to Soleta’s shock, placed the business end of her phaser against the side of Lucius’s head. “Stop impersonating my son.”
“Your son is Lucius?”
“He looks like Xy. And he is going to permit us to see him as he really is, right now.” The phaser amped up in power audibly.
Instantly the area was suffused with a blue glow, and a bizarre creature with translucent skin appeared beneath Soleta’s grasp. He was looking up at her grimly and he said, “You have run out of time. I have already summoned the Brethren. They will be here within moments.”
“Don’t be an idiot. They’ve turned against you.”
“No. They’ve turned against the others. My fellow D’myurj,” he said tightly. “I wanted to take the D’myurj to the next level of development. Of greatness. Why should we shepherd others along and never follow that path ourselves? None of them understood. The Brethren understood, but they were reluctant to listen to me. But then you showed up, with your barbarism and your murderous ways. Your actions helped convince the Brethren where my words could not.”
They heard the tromping of feet heading their way. The Brethren were seconds from reaching them.
“Time for a new plan,” said Selar, and she brought her phaser up and fired at the canister at point-blank range.
The canister shuddered for a moment, then cracked, and then shattered. Fluid gushed out, surging around their feet. Soleta moved quickly and caught the infant as he tumbled through the gaping hole. The baby startled awake, his arms thrashing about, and he looked panicked. He started howling.
I don’t have time for a squalling infant, thought Soleta, and she brought her fingers down gently upon his shoulders. Instantly the child’s head lolled and he went right back to sleep.
Selar had one arm around the D’myurj’s neck and her phaser against his head. He was squirming fiercely but was no match for Selar’s strength. “Now,” she said tightly, “we get out of here.” She tapped her comm badge. “Selar to transporter room! We have the child. Emergency beam out.”
“Locking on,” came Halliwell’s voice.
Soleta looked surprised. “I’ll be damned,” she said. “Sometimes it’s just that easy.”
Just as three Brethren advanced into view, with the sounds of thundering boots indicating that more were on the way, the two women and the sleeping infant began to shimmer out of existence…
…and then shimmered right back in.
Their backs against the console, Soleta and Selar found themselves surrounded.
“Then again, sometimes it’s not,” said Soleta.
Starship Excalibur
“I lost them, sir!” came Halliwell’s frustrated voice over the comm system. “One second they were there, and the next, bam! Some sort of scrambler field came up and blocked the transport beam!”
Robin Lefler’s heart was pounding. They had her son! They had found him! Yet the relief she felt over that warred with the relief that her mother had not dispatched Soleta and Selar to their deaths inside the substrata of a planet.
Either way the fact that they had found him meant nothing if they couldn’t get him back to safety.
Calhoun was already up and out of his command chair. “Alert the shuttlebay,” he said briskly. “Muster as many shuttles as we have ready to fly. If we can’t beam them out, then we go down and get them ourselves. Mr. Kebron, with me. Burgy, you have the—”
“Belay that, Mr. Kebron,” said Burgoyne. “You’re with me.”
Calhoun turned and looked with astonishment at Burgoyne. “You are not authorized to countermand my orders, Commander.”
“I am authorized to prevent the commanding officer from needlessly exposing himself to risk.”
“And the fact that it’s Selar, the woman you love, down there wouldn’t have anything to do with it.”
“Love?” Burgoyne looked puzzled. “No, sir.”
There were confused looks exchanged by everyone on the crew, except for Xy. Xy regarded his father thoughtfully for a moment, and then simply looked saddened.
Calhoun noticed, as he tended to notice everything that went on on the bridge of his vessel. But he decided it was a matter that was best pursued later. “Get going, Burgy,” he said, stepping aside, and Burgoyne followed Kebron out the door into the turbolift.
“Be careful!” called Robin after them.
“Save your concern for the bad guys. They’re going to need it,” Kebron said as the doors hissed shut behind them.
AF1963
i.
They remained frozen there for a moment, like a tableau. The D’myurj was not attempting to break free of the hold Selar had upon him, but he did not seem especially perturbed over the situation. “You may not have noticed this,” he informed her, “but you are slightly outnumbered.” More Brethren were moving in from all directions.
“There may be many of them, but there is only one of you. And if they do not step back and allow us to leave, then there will be none of you.”
“Do you truly think we will allow that? After all that you have seen?”
“You cannot prevent it. There are two starships in orbit around this world. They know
we are down here. They are going to come after us.”
“And we will be prepared for them, and they will die. Hundreds of Brethren will be sent up to the ships, and this time they will not simply remove themselves once the point of a distraction has been served. This time they will remain and finish the job.”
“Perhaps. But you will not be alive to see it.” She shoved the muzzle of the phaser tightly against his head.
“Go on,” said the D’myurj. “Kill me. Lose the last shield between yourself and the Brethren. Kill me in cold blood. Watch me die the same way that you watched him die…”
And the face of Voltak was looking at her.
Selar was momentarily shaken as her dead husband stared at her with eyes that were accusing, as if to say that she should have somehow found a way to save him; then Voltak slammed an elbow into her face. He pulled away from her, retreating to the safety of the Brethren, and shouted, “Now! Kill them now! But do not hurt the child!”
Soleta didn’t hesitate. She swung her phaser up and opened fire, not on the Brethren,Ž€… but on the tanks overhead.
She blasted two apart in as many seconds, and liquid gushed from within. It cascaded down upon the Brethren and, as Soleta had hoped, seeped in through the narrow vent slots in their helmets.
The Brethren staggered, their arms flailing, as steam billowed from within. Instantly there was a vast haze hanging over the area, and she even thought she heard choking noises from within the helmets. Good. Suffocate, you bastards.
Then Selar was grabbing her by the wrist. “Come on!” she shouted and Soleta was following her, sprinting as hard as she could. She could only imagine what it must be like for the beings who were suddenly finding themselves coming around as the fluids that had been supporting them were spilling away. But she couldn’t stop to worry about that now. She had to get Selar, Cwansi, and herself the hell out of there.
The tricorders had done nothing to hide them from the Brethren moments before because the D’myurj had been looking right at them and, due to his obvious mental link with his armored cohorts, was able to be their eyes. Now that they were on the run, however, they were able to use the tricorders to scramble their appearance once more. They did not, however, attempt anything approaching stealth. Instead they ran as fast as they could, sprinting toward oncoming Brethren and then past them before the Brethren could fully process that they were there.