After the Fall

by Peter David

  “Because a transwarp conduit is the typical means of transport for the Borg.”

  “I think I would have noticed if a giant cube had been passing anywhere nearby. Anyone?” He looked to the spectators. “Has anyone in this room had any encounter with the Borg?” There was a collective shaking of heads. “I thought not. And frankly, Captain, I’m surprised at you. What purpose would we have in keeping such information secret from you? If the Borg turned up here, don’t you think the Federation would be the first ones we would alert? Ask for help?”

  “I don’t make that assumption at all,” Calhoun responded. “My first thought was that you’d believe you could, and should, handle the matter yourselves.”

  “Why would we think that?”

  “Because the collective pride and ego in this room could, if harnessed as an energy source, power the entirety of Starfleet for ten years.”

  Si Cwan considered that a moment, and then nodded ruefully. “All right. That’s true.”

  Calhoun tapped the combadge once more. “Captain Mueller? Still there?”

  “Absolutely, Captain Calhoun, because I have nothing else to do except sit here and wait for you to get around to talking to me.”

  “Sorry about th—”

  “My point,” she interrupted, “which you stopped me from making before, was that we traced the origins of the transwarp conduit to within range of the planet Priatia.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “There was a sinkhole a few hundred thousand kliks away from them. There’s no mistaking that.”

  “Did you send an away team down?”

  “That’s what I’m kicking myself over,” Mueller said with clear anger directed at herself. “The profile we had on them was that they weren’t remotely capable of the sort of technology required to generate a transwarp conduit. So we ascribed it to coincidence. But if Priatia’s coming up in connection with Kalinda’s kidnapping, that’s too much to dismiss as happenstance. What makes you think Priatia’s involved?”

  “Because the ship believed to have taken her is one connected with Priatia’s ancient history as belonging to their supposedly founding race, the Wanderers.”

  “And if such a vessel had returned now, they might indeed be utilizing such technology. It’s possible. Are we going to rendezvous at Priatia, Captain?”

  “Actually,” Calhoun said slowly, his gaze not leaving Si Cwan, “I need you to investigate this for me. We’re somewhat tied up on another matter.”

  “Another matter? Let me guess: It has something to do with that ass Si Cwan, and his assemblage of howler monkeys.”

  There were stunned gasps mixed with laughter from nearby and Si Cwan’s face became slightly redder than it typically was. “Captain Mueller,” Si Cwan called out, “you should know that Captain Calhoun is standing not ten feet away from both myself and the assemblage.”

  There was a pause. “Oh. You heard that?”

  “Every word.”

  “Good,” Mueller’s voice came back. “I was hoping you were within earshot, you ass.”

  Si Cwan looked with some chagrin at the dumbfounded onlookers. “We…had a relationship once,” he said by way of explanation.

  “Relationship? Don’t flatter yourself, Si Cwan, it was just sex—”

  “Yes, all right, Kat, we get the picture,” Calhoun quickly cut her off.

  All business, Mueller said, “Very well, Captain. Do you want us to go to Priatia and retrieve Kalinda?”

  “I want you to go there and determine whether she’s on Priatia or not. But I don’t want you to risk her or yourselves. If you detect any sign of that vessel, get the hell out of there, because we don’t know what we’re dealing with yet.”

  “Understood. I’ll keep you apprised. Trident out.”

  “It appears, Captain Calhoun,” Kebron remarked, “that your penchant for tact rubbed off on Captain Mueller back in her days as the Excalibur executive officer.”

  “So now what?” demanded Tiraud.

  “Now?” replied Calhoun. “Now…we wait.”

  “Very well.” Si Cwan walked over to Calhoun and Kebron. “Gentlemen…I see no reason for Burgoyne or your squadron of security guards to remain here.”

  “Really? Because I do,” replied Burgoyne.

  “I give you my word that no harm shall come to either Captain Calhoun or Mr. Kebron here as long as they are guests in my home.”

  “I can see why we should believe that, of course,” said Kebron, “since you’ve done such a terrific job of extending courtesy to guests thus far.”

  “Had I thought anyone here capable of hurting you, I never would have allowed it to occur,” Si Cwan said coolly. “In any event, I pledge no continued hostilities…provided I have your word that you will remain here on New Thallon until we have heard a report back from the Trident?”

  “Absolutely,” said Calhoun.

  “Captain,” began Burgoyne.

  But Calhoun shook his head. “It’ll be fine, Burgy. Your intervention was most timely, but I think matters here are under control…at least for now.”

  “All right,” said Si Cwan, “in that case—”

  “It is not ‘all right’!” Tiraud declared. “They—”

  But Si Cwan cut him off. “Mackenzie Calhoun has given me his word, Tiraud. That is enough for me…and if it’s not enough for you, too damned bad. Lieutenant Commander Lefler…if I might impose upon you to bring the captain and Mr. Kebron to guest quarters where they can relax until the Trident accomplishes its mission?”

  “I still don’t trust him,” grumbled Tiraud.

  “That, Tiraud, is your problem, not mine. Right now I suggest you have your father tended to.”

  Tiraud was about to respond, but a low moan from his father prompted him to think better of it.

  “And I will ask all of you now to depart,” Si Cwan continued. “Once this potential connection to Priatia has been investigated, we shall reconvene in the council chamber—the more appropriate environment for such discussions—and decide on our next course of action. That is all.”

  If any of the assemblage had any problems with Si Cwan’s declarations, they wisely kept it to themselves. Within a few minutes, the entire main hall had cleared out of both the Thallonian Protectorate and all Starfleet personnel, leaving a thoughtful Si Cwan to himself.

  iii.

  Robin Lefler stood outside the holosuite with Calhoun, and she rested a hand on his arm. “I have to caution you…he looks pretty bad, but it’s not as bad as it looks.”

  “All right,” said Calhoun.

  The door slid open and Calhoun and Robin entered. The imagery in the holosuite was just as they’d left it, with Xyon lying on the sickbay bed. Morgan was monitoring the functions and she looked up in mild surprise as Calhoun entered.

  “Grozit,” Calhoun said, going straight to Xyon’s bedside. Xyon’s eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling steadily. He looked up at Morgan and there was more vulnerability in his face at that moment than Robin Lefler had ever seen in all the years she’d known him. “Is he in pain?”

  “No,” Morgan assured him. “Right now he’s sound asleep, which is the best thing for him. The bioregenerative field is healing him. It’ll take some time, but the important thing is, he’s on the mend.”

  “Mother’s known what to do every step of the way,” Robin said proudly.

  “You should have been a doctor,” Calhoun told her. “Or at the very least, a nurse.”

  “Don’t get me started,” said Morgan.

  He continued to stare down at Xyon. Even though he knew Xyon couldn’t hear him, Calhoun said softly, “I never believed you were dead, you know. I learned to accept it…but I never believed it.”

  Robin Lefler suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if she were intruding on an aspect of Mackenzie Calhoun that she should not have any part of. “Uhm…I have other, uhm…I’ll wait outside.”

  Calhoun didn’t say anything to her. He might not even have heard her. Qu
ickly Robin backed out of the room, the doors opening behind her. She stepped out, turned, and almost shrieked.

  Si Cwan was standing right there, arms draped behind his back.

  “Oh,” she said, which was the only thing that occurred to her at that moment.

  “When were you planning to tell me?” he asked, his voice cold and controlled.

  “Tell you…?”

  “Don’t be coy with me, Robin. I know that Xyon is in there,” and he nodded in the direction of the holosuite. “I give you a gift at no small expense, and this is how you repay me? By using it to throw a match upon an already incendiary situation?”

  “No,” she said, her anger starting to grow. “By using it to save our marriage.”

  He stared at her blankly. “Come again?”

  Her voice dropping to a hoarse whisper, she said, “You tortured him, Si Cwan. You sent him down to be tortured. It was the most cold-blooded, the…I can’t…” She was so seized with emotion she couldn’t find words. “I…I watched you do this thing, and I thought, ‘No, that can’t be my husband. He’s a great man. A great man would never do such things.’ ”

  “It’s more complicated than that….”

  “No, it’s exactly as uncomplicated as that!” Robin shot back. “We don’t do such things—”

  “We?” demanded Si Cwan. “What ‘we’ would that be? ‘We’ the Federation? I assure you there are member races who do far worse than anything I’ve done. ‘We’ Starfleet? The head of Starfleet isn’t trying to hold an uneasy alliance together with his bare hands and not show the slightest sign of weakness. ‘We’ the human race? Don’t make me laugh, Robin. Despise torture? Your people perfected it. We learned lessons from you.”

  “We meaning you and me, Cwan!” she said in her soaring wrath. “Us! We’re better than that! We have to stand for something, to symbolize something greater than either of us could ever hope to achieve! If you truly believe that torture isn’t the way even when others do, then you have to be the leader who stands firm and says, ‘No! We will not descend to that, no matter what others may do or might have done! We’re going to learn from our mistakes and we’re going to be better!’ ”

  He towered over her. “Don’t you dare lecture me,” he said.

  “Little late for that, isn’t it. If I were in your position—”

  “In my position? Do you want to know what I should do, in my position?” His fists were clenching and unclenching. She had never seen him so angry. “As Prime Minister of the Protectorate? I should have you either thrown in prison or banished from this world! I should have you brought up on charges! I should have you dragged in front of the council so they can decide your fate! I should turn you over to the House of Fhermus because, in your actions, you’ve become an accomplice to the crimes Xyon committed, which remain indisputable, whether you believe his story about alien vessels or not! All this and more is what I should be doing if I am to remain true to my oath and my word to those who depend upon me for leadership!”

  “Then why don’t you?” she demanded.

  “You know why. It is because you are my wife, and you were counting on that bond to save you when you knew that your actions, if taken by any other individual, would result in condemnation, imprisonment and possibly death. If anyone has acted in a manner that’s unworthy of them, it’s you. You’ve put me in an untenable position without caring about the ramifications, and counting on my love for you to save you. And that is cheap manipulation, Robin. I expected better of you.”

  She stared at him for a long moment and then, very softly, she said, “You expected better of me than my counting on your love?”

  “Prime Minister?”

  Slowly Robin turned and saw Ankar standing there, staring at them quizzically. “Prime Minister,” he said again, “several delegates are waiting in your office, wishing to speak with you. Is there some sort of problem here?”

  For Robin, it was as if she was hiding in shadows, trying not to be spotted by some pursuing enemy. She could hear the breath heavy in her lungs, sense the pounding of her heart, the pulse in her temple. The very noises of her body’s presence threatening to give her away. She was paralyzed, afraid to make the slightest movement lest her sudden gnawing fear gave her away.

  As for Si Cwan, carved from marble, he replied coolly, “No, Ankar. No problem at all. I’m right behind you.”

  Ankar turned and walked away, and Si Cwan followed him without so much as a backward glance. Moments later, Mackenzie Calhoun stepped out of the holosuite, looking with concern at Robin. “Do we have a problem?” he asked.

  “I think we have a big problem, yes,” she sighed. “But I don’t think it’s a ‘we’ that you need concern yourself with at the moment, Captain.”

  U.S.S. Trident

  i.

  There was an air of tension on the bridge of the Trident that wasn’t there in their previous mission to Priatia. It did nothing to interfere with the smooth and efficient running of the ship, but Mueller noticed a distinct dropoff in the banter and back-and-forth that characterized her bridge crew. They had adopted a very businesslike attitude, and Mueller, for one, wasn’t upset by that.

  It wasn’t simply that they didn’t know what they were going to be dealing with, or that they were worried some sort of supercolossal killer star vessel could drop out of space practically on top of them and cut through their defenses like a knife through cheese. The additional pressure being faced by the crew of the Trident was that the potential well-being of Mackenzie Calhoun was hanging in the balance of what they did next. They all knew, liked, and respected Calhoun, and they wanted to do right by him.

  “Priatia, dead ahead, Captain,” Gold announced.

  “Bring us into geosynch orbit, Mr. Gold,” Mueller said.

  “Geosynch orbit, aye,” and Gold brought the starship into standard orbit with the planetary body below.

  “Arex…I want full tactical focus on that sinkhole. You got that?”

  “Aye, Captain,” Arex assured her. “If a tachyon so much as twitches, you’ll be the first to know.”

  Mueller took some comfort in that, but not much. She couldn’t help but feel that the sinkhole was like a giant cannon pointed squarely at their backs that could go off at any time. She felt as if the ship had its flank exposed for as long as they were in the vicinity, but there was nothing she could do about it.

  “All right,” Mueller said thoughtfully. “M’Ress…sensor scan on the planet’s surface. Full strength. See if there’s a Thallonian down there.”

  “Aye, Captain,” said M’Ress, and she began the sweep.

  Desma sidled over to Mueller and said in a low voice, “Captain…you are aware of the amount of time such an endeavor will consume. Unless we’re extremely lucky…”

  “We could be here for a day or so,” Mueller acknowledged. Desma didn’t look happy about it, and Mueller could understand it. She wasn’t exactly tickled about it herself. “There’s no way around it.”

  “Actually…there may be.”

  Mueller had been staring at the screen, but now she turned and focused on Desma. “What are you suggesting, Commander?”

  “A more…aggressive stance, perhaps?”

  “Are you suggesting,” Mueller said slowly, “that we confront the Priatians? Tell them we believe that Kalinda is down there and we want her back?”

  “Not exactly. I’m suggesting we inform the Priatians that we know Kalinda is down there, and if they don’t turn her over to us, we will rain destruction down upon them like the right hand of God.”

  Mueller’s eyebrows rose so high that they appeared to be bumping up against her hairline. “Really.”

  “Well…maybe not that exact phrasing…”

  “I should hope not. Still…” and Mueller tapped her fingers thoughtfully on the arm of her chair. “They must have some sort of planetary system that’s informing them we’re here. One assumes they’re not stupid. They’ll know this isn’t a social call. If our presen
ce here is going to prompt them to take a violent action against Kalinda in a panic…”

  “Then the sooner we head that off, the better.”

  “Of course, it’s taking a chance. Contacting them and letting them know we know she’s there could prompt them to…oh, I don’t know…kill her? After all, we can’t detect life signs if she’s dead.” She looked at Desma questioningly, even a bit challengingly.

  Desma inclined her head slightly, acknowledging the point. Her antennae bobbed up and down in reaction to the motion. “There’s one upside to your following your own instincts on this decision.”

  “And that would be?”

  “You’ll take the heat for them, not me.”

  Mueller kept a straight face, but inside she laughed slightly. For her part, Desma’s expression was purely deadpan. “Mr. Takahashi,” she called out, “see if you can raise me up a government official.”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  It wasn’t the easiest endeavor in the world. The initial contact from the Trident was shifted around from one office to the next in what turned out to be an impressive little bureaucracy. Eventually, though, a calm, rather detached individual who called himself “Keesala” appeared on the screen. He appeared to be some sort of spokesman for whomever the planetary head or governing board was. “We are honored,” he said. “My understanding is that it has been many, many years since a Federation starship visited our world. The last time, as I recall, was some sort of scientific endeavor, yes?”

  “That’s correct,” said Mueller.

  “And is this another such?”

  “No. Actually, it has to do with a matter of some urgency. A matter…do you have a title?”

  “A what? Oh. No, no. ‘Keesala’ will do.” He smiled thinly. “We tend to be informal hereabouts.”

  “It is a matter, Keesala, the nature of which—to be blunt—we believe you already suspect.”

  “Indeed!” His voice indicated that he was most perturbed at the notion. “Perhaps it would be best if you brought me to your vessel with one of those marvelous matter-transportation devices I understand you’re equipped with.”