THE ENVIRONMENTAL CONTROLS were strained Spock’s estimate had been off. Instead of nine hundred and eighty survivors on the surface below, there had been nine hundred and eighty on the first level. Another five hundred had been on the level below.
The Enterprise had beamed them all aboard, and Scotty said they were crammed like breeding gophers under an island green, something Kirk hadn’t understood. Sulu had said Scotty was using a golf metaphor, and Kirk didn’t ask any more.
He had tried golf once, in Iowa as a boy.
He preferred chess.
Or basketball. Either all cerebral activity or none.
And here he was, in the middle of a crisis, pondering a golf analogy.
“Captain”—Scotty’s voice sounded harried over the comm—“I do think we should move some of these poor folks to the bridge.”
“No, Mister Scott.” Kirk sat on his chair, then winced and stood abruptly. The pad was completely gone now. “They stay belowdecks.”
Kirk still needed the thinking room. Even if the survivors were packed below. He was glad Bogle had taken the rest. The Enterprise was strained almost beyond her capacity, and they weren’t done yet.
“Captain,” Prescott said. “Do you think we have time to find one more group?”
And one more, and one more. She would keep asking, and they would miss their opportunity. Kirk looked into her exhausted, bruised face. This was the face that even the good tightass Captain Kelly Bogle couldn’t refuse.
But Kirk had to.
“We’re out of time, Prescott,” he said. “I’m sorry.” Then he turned to Sulu. “Take us to the rendezvous point near the rift.”
“Aye, sir,” Sulu said. His fingers moved across the board. “Course laid in. We’re on our way.”
He sounded almost relieved. Maybe he was. The sooner they got to the rendezvous point, the sooner this would all be over.
He hit the comm button. “Mister Scott. Return to engineering. We’ll need you there.”
“Aye, sir,” Scotty said. He sounded relieved too.
Kirk sat down despite the ruined pad. “Are the other ships in position?” he asked.
“The Farragut and the Klingon ship QuaQa carrying KerDaq are in position,” Spock said. “The Klingon ship SorDaq is headed in that direction and will arrive in one minute.”
“Good,” Kirk said, leaning back and watching as the Enterprise moved above the plane of the destroyed solar system and headed for the debris field of the ninth planet. “What’s our estimated arrival time, Mister Sulu?”
“We’ll be there in two minutes, sir,” Sulu said.
“So fast,” a voice said from behind Kirk.
He swiveled his chair. Prescott was standing at the rail, her arms resting on it, staring at the screen. She was so short that she looked like a little girl peering over a fence. Her face had that look of awe and wonder that he had seen on others, and felt a few times himself.
“What took us weeks to travel you do in minutes,” Prescott said. “And you travel between the stars? Not one of my people dared dream of such a thing. We always just assumed it was impossible.”
“Sometimes dreaming is the only way to find ways to do the impossible,” Kirk said.
Prescott pulled her gaze from the screen and met his. Here, he knew, was a woman who would continue to lead her people. She had nearly destroyed them, but she had also helped rescue them. Sometimes that culpability, that guilt, made survivors try even harder.
They all had a long road ahead of them.
“I see now that you are right, Captain. Our problem was that we were too cautious, our dreams too small,” she said.
“It seems to me,” Spock said, “that the dream of unlimited energy for your people is not small.”
“Yes it is,” she said, “when we could have had the stars.” And then she smiled.
“Captain,” Spock said. “We have reached the designated point. All four ships are in place. The third Klingon ship, Suqlaw, is waiting outside the system.”
“Understood,” Kirk said. “Lieutenant Uhura, patch me in to the other three ship captains. Make sure they can also see each other.”
“Yes, sir,” she said. The picture of the other ships on the main screen dissolved and was replaced by a divided screen showing three faces, one human and two Klingon. Captain Bogle, a streak of dirt across his chin, nodded to Kirk.
KerDaq glowered. Kirk could see survivors behind him.
The unknown Klingon captain squinted at Kirk. Kirk squinted back.
“I am Commander Kutpon,” the new Klingon said, in what was obviously the most menacing tone he could manage.
“Captain Kirk,” Kirk said, deciding not to play that game. KerDaq could explain to Kutpon that relations with the Federation were cordial, for the moment. “I hope the hunting went well for everyone.”
“We have gathered over two hundred survivors,” Kutpon said.
“We also have two hundred crammed aboard,” KerDaq said.
“The Tauteean people will hold you in great honor for your bravery,” Kirk said before Bogle could say anything. There was no point in getting into a useless numbers game over who rescued the most.
Bogle clearly understood. “You crammed us full, Jim. And I see you made another stop on the way.”
Kirk shrugged. “We found we had the room.”
Bogle just shook his head in obvious disgust. Kirk wasn’t sure if Kelly was mad at him, or himself. “And how are your environmental controls?”
“Strained to the breaking point,” Kirk said, and suppressed a grin.
Bogle nodded. “I suspect you’re right. If we hadn’t had our rendezvous, you would have lost your environmental controls. Funny how that works, isn’t it? Too many bodies in too small a space.”
Kirk shrugged. “Just planning ahead, Kelly.”
“Obviously,” Bogle said.
“We have two minutes, Captain,” Spock said.
Kirk took a deep breath and felt his grin fade. The serious work had begun. He faced the other three captains. “Are we all clear on what we’re going to attempt?”
KerDaq snorted. “Of course we are, Captain. A single blast from each ship timed together will close the hole.”
Kirk could see the other captains nodding in unison. It seemed that everyone had been briefed. “Mister Spock will count down to the firing time. The moment after you have fired your full burst, jump to warp. You will have only thirty seconds to get out of the subspace wave’s path.”
All three captains nodded again.
The Klingons and the Federation might be enemies, but that didn’t stop them from respecting each other. KerDaq was an excellent captain. Kirk had no doubt that Kutpon was the same. They knew the risks they would place their ships under, the possible damage that could occur.
Of course, if this didn’t work, the damage wouldn’t matter. This rift in space would destroy this entire sector of the galaxy and no one would live through it.
“The nearest starbase, Starbase Eleven, is only a half day away,” Bogle said. “We can dock there. With the survivors.” He said the last with a touch of sarcasm.
“Understood,” KerDaq said. “We will be there.”
His third of the screen went blank.
“And so will we,” Kutpon said.
His section of the screen went dark as well.
Bogle said. “And good luck. We’ll talk when we reach the starbase.”
“I am looking forward to it,” Kirk said. “And good luck to you, too. We’re all going to need it. Kirk out.”
The screen went back to showing the four ships spaced in a square formation above the debris field of the ninth planet.
“We have one minute, Captain,” Spock said.
Kirk glanced around. Uhura was still monitoring communications. Sulu was staring at the screen. Chekov was double-checking the coordinates.
Prescott leaned against the railing, her feet barely touching the ground. Her slender face was lined with tension
. Spock was bent over his scope, looking as unruffled as ever. Only the ensigns sitting off to the sides seemed frightened. And even they were working.
They were the only sign that this moment was different from any other, that they faced more danger than they ever had.
Kirk’s crew was the best in the galaxy.
He only hoped they would be good enough.
“Course laid in for Starbase Eleven,” Sulu said.
“Lasers armed and ready, sir,” Chekov said.
“Good,” Kirk said. “On Mister Spock’s mark.”
“Thirty seconds,” Spock said.
“Are all four ships’ weapons powered up?” Kirk asked.
“They are, sir,” Chekov said.
Thirty seconds seemed like an eternity. Kirk resisted the urge to stand and pace. He needed to focus all his concentration on that shot.
Because it was the only one they would ever have. The only one, or the last one, depending on whether they hit their target or not.
“Ten seconds,” Spock said.
Kirk gripped the armrest.
“Nine.”
Another countdown. Someday he would have to count down how many countdowns he’d been in.
“Eight.”
He watched the other ships get into position.
“Seven.”
Chekov checked the coordinates again.
“Six.”
Prescott braced herself against the rail.
“Five.”
Uhura swiveled so that she could see the screen.
“Four.”
Kirk leaned forward, his stomach in knots.
“Three.”
The ensigns stopped working and watched, their expressions guarded.
“Two.”
Spock raised his head out of the scope.
“One.”
Kirk clenched his fist.
“Fire!” Spock said.
On the screen Kirk could see the other three ships firing and the beam from the Enterprise joining theirs at a point below in the destruction.
A long red line grew wide and powerful, like a stream of water poured from a pitcher. Kirk felt that if he tilted the Enterprise slightly, he could see through the debris hole into the next universe.
Then, as a unit, all four beams from the ships cut off.
“We hit our target,” Spock said with an amazing lack of excitement. Sometimes Kirk wondered how he managed that flat tone in life-threatening situations. “The feedback loop is building as planned.”
“Get us out of here, Mister Sulu,” Kirk snapped. “Warp four.”
“Aye, sir,” Sulu said. He ran his hand up the board as he said, “Engaging.”
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing happened.
The screen remained focused on the asteroids below. None of the other three ships remained. All had jumped to warp. Kirk couldn’t see the huge destructive subspace wave building up below, but he knew it was coming.
“Mister Sulu!” Kirk said.
“The warp drive is off-line!” Sulu said, his voice suddenly on the edge and rising.
Kirk punched the comm button. “Mister Scott, we lost warp.”
“I know, sir,” the voice came right back. “All this shaking and rattling knocked the coils out of alignment. I warned you this might happen.”
“The wave will hit in twenty seconds,” Spock said with annoying calm.
“Oh, no,” Prescott said behind Kirk. “This can’t be happening.”
“Fix it, Scotty. Now!”
“I canna fix her in twenty seconds, sir,” Scotty said.
“I can’t hold off that wave.”
“I know, sir. If we had a minute, maybe. But a minute might as well be forever.”
Forever. Way too long. They had less than twenty seconds to figure out a way to survive.
Twenty very short seconds.
Chapter Thirty
LESS THAN TWENTY SECONDS.
They had to do something.
Kirk opened his eyes. All he saw was Prescott, her hands pressed to her face.
He saved her people only to lose them again.
“Scotty!” Kirk shouted into the comm line. “Get those warp drives up! And put any extra power you can to the shields. Now.”
“Aye, sir,” Scott said.
“The rift is closing,” Spock said. “We have fifteen seconds until the subspace wave reaches this location.”
Kirk couldn’t believe this was happening. There had been no warning.
Of course, there might have been, but he had assigned Scotty to the transporter room. Scotty usually always babied that warp engine. He’d have noticed if anything were going wrong.
But he hadn’t been there.
Kirk had thought he needed Scotty to supervise the tricky transports.
And he had.
He needed a dozen Scotties.
Right now.
“Mister Sulu,” he snapped. “Take us directly away from that rift at full impulse!”
“Aye, sir,” Sulu said.
The screen showed the destroyed system angling away out of view, then a starfield.
“At this speed,” Spock said, “the subspace wave will reach and overtake us in fifty-one seconds.”
He had bought some time.
Scotty, do your magic.
Now.
Kirk turned to Spock. “What are the odds we can surf this one out and survive?”
Spock shook his head. “There are too many factors. I could not give you an accurate estimation.”
“Guess, Spock,” Kirk said, his hands doubled into fists.
Spock leaned back. “I believe there is a less than zero-point-one-percent chance shields will hold and the hull will not breach.”
“Nice guess,” Kirk said.
“I do my best,” Spock said.
“Are we going to die?” Prescott asked.
“Not if I can help it,” Kirk said. “But I’d hang on to something real tight in the meantime.”
He punched the comm link. “Scotty? Warp?”
“The engine’s on-line, Captain, but she’s not responding.”
“I thought you said we had a minute, Scotty. You should have had plenty of time.”
“A minute to get her back on-line, Captain. But I didna say she was going to work.”
“Well, keep trying.” Kirk punched the intercom off.
Spock stood and clasped his hands behind his back, as if he were going to make an important pronouncement. “The rift has closed.”
They had succeeded, but they could not celebrate. The first time, he had saved the galaxy by sacrificing Edith. This time, he was saving the galaxy by sacrificing himself and his crew.
And fourteen hundred and eighty Tauteean survivors.
He would not lose to the galaxy twice.
He.
Would.
Not.
He turned to Spock. “Is there any way to get any more impulse power?”
“No,” Spock said. “Not enough power, anyway. But I do have an idea.”
“Make it quick,” Kirk said.
Spock bowed his head once. Then he stepped forward, and all the repressed emotion, the excitement and the fear, was in his eyes. But not his voice. “We must apply Dr. McCoy’s theory again. We cannot defeat the entire wave. But we can modify a small section of it.”
“How, Spock?”
“At the precise moment that the wave overtakes us, we use a photon-torpedo blast to cut down the intensity of that small section of the wave.”
Kirk frowned. “Like cutting a hole through it for us to ride in?”
“Precisely,” Spock said.
“Would ten photon torpedoes be better?”
“If they are concentrated,” Spock said, “at the exact point and time that the wave would hit us.”
“Spock, you’re brilliant,” Kirk said. He leapt out of his chair. “Chekov, arm ten photon torpedoes and wait for Mister Spock’s mark.”
“Armed and
ready, sir,” Chekov said.
Spock had returned to his chair. He was peering into the scope again, his fingers flying over the keys in front of him. “We have twenty seconds,” he said.
Kirk paced the area behind the helm. Twenty seconds suddenly felt like an eternity. A moment ago they had seemed like nothing. He stopped beside his chair and punched the intercom.
“Scotty?”
“She’s a stubborn wee beastie, Captain.”
“I’ll take that as a no.” He had hoped the warp would come back, but now that it wasn’t, he had to do something else.
He hit the shipwide comm button. “This is the captain speaking. Brace yourselves. This last wave will be greater than anything we’ve experienced. Hold on tight and do not move until the bumping ends. Captain out.”
“The wave will hit in ten seconds,” Spock said.
Prescott slid under the nearest console. Uhura wrapped her boots around the base of her chair. Chekov gripped the sides of his console.
“Scotty?” Kirk said into his intercom.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Scotty said, the exasperation clear in his voice. “but I canna do it. She’s taken too great a beating.”
“Five seconds,” Spock said. His chair was all the way against the console. But he hadn’t grabbed anything yet.
Neither had Kirk.
Kirk returned to his chair and gripped the arms. He would rather have joined Prescott under the console, but he had to stay here to monitor everything.
“On my mark, Mister Chekov,” Spock said.
Some crewmen had also crawled under the consoles. Kirk almost reprimanded them, but then decided against it. He didn’t really need them at the moment anyway. Sulu followed Uhura’s example, and wrapped his legs around his chair.
“Fire!” Spock said.
The ship rocked as the photon torpedoes fired.
Then the wave hit.
It felt as if the Enterprise had slammed into an interstellar wall. The ship rocked forward, then stopped, before propelling backward and bouncing along the surface of something Kirk couldn’t see.
The lights went off, the computer began reciting damage statistics, and the screen went dead. Sparks flew from the consoles and someone screamed.
Kirk hung on to the chair as hard as he could, but he didn’t stand much of a chance of staying in it.
Chekov flew past him, twirling in the air like a top.
The Rings Of Tautee Page 14