by S. D. Perry
Kirk hesitated only a second, just long enough to absorb the immensity of what Spock was suggesting, to calculate whether or not they could beat Kettaract--and Jain, amazing, beautiful Jain--back to his station. Probably not, but they could come damned close.
He thumbed the intercom switch.
"Kirk to engineering. Mr. Scott, get the engines ready. We're going back to the Lantaru sector, and we're going to need warp eight."
Chapter Thirteen
Suni had suspected that some of the other doctors at the station were getting cold feet, she'd seen it coming for weeks, so she was prepared for a hitch or two when they finally docked. In between yearning thoughts of Jim and her own excitement--they were literally hours from synthesis--she'd spent most of the trip home coaching Bendes on how to handle it.
As soon as they boarded the station, stepping into the cool, antiseptic-scented brightness of what had once been a cargo bay, she saw that it was more serious than she'd figured. Most of the team was waiting to greet them, excited and impatient for the culmination of then- hard work, but there were six conspicuous absences.
"Welcome home, Doctors!"
John Connolly was wearing a huge grin, much bigger than his brother's, standing next to him. Tom Connolly had been betting all along that the pressurized chemical vat prep would be a total failure, a bet that his younger brother had taken him up on. It had been Suni's idea to use their names as signals, on the off chance that the station needed to contact them at the summit.
"John, not Tom," Kettaract said, smiling. "What did you win?"
"It's not what he won, it's what I lost," Tom said good-naturedly. "Top billing in the history books to my younger brother, thank you very much."
Every one of the sixteen assembled scientists and technicians laughed, a sound of barely suppressed jubilance, the very air electric with a sense of gleeful accomplishment. She was glad to see them so excited, they deserved it. A few of them had been with Kettaract since the very beginning, when he'd been working out of an abandoned warehouse on a nonaligned planet in the Taugan sector. Before he'd met the people she worked for.
"Where are the others?" Kettaract asked.
"Cafeteria," John said, his smile fading slightly. "When they realized how close we are ... it's not that they don't believe in you, Bendes, they're just scared."
"Now that it's actually happening, I think they just can't believe it," Wesker piped up, sniffing loudly. The physicist seemed to have a perpetually runny nose. "It's a kind of denial. Fear of success."
Surd had to smile. Success in this case meant fame and fortune, while failure likely meant death; she doubted very much that they were terribly afraid of succeeding. The problem was faith, as it had been all along. Faith in Bendes, faith in themselves. "I believe I could use one last meal before we forever change the course of history," Kettaract said, initiating more laughter. "Let's all go. I have a few things I want to say, to everyone."
The group broke into couples and trios as they trooped out into the station's interior, chatting happily at each other. Suni hung back a little, watching them. It was amazing to see, after so many months, years, of knowing them as pale, solemn people, always with clipboards in hand, always frowning.
/ probably looked the same way, skulking around this cavernous, empty station with no real life, calculating and recalculating the probabilities over and over.. ..
Not anymore, not ever again. She'd done her part, as a scientist and as a motivator--running equations, keeping her contacts informed, teaching Bendes how to inspire his team. Taking care of problems. When the cloak had become available, she'd been the one to talk him into it, pointing out how close they were, how they couldn't afford to be interrupted.
She had kept the project going, all in the name of making the Federation into what it should be. With the power of the Omega molecule backing it up, there would be nothing to stand in the way, nothing to keep the Federation from its altruistic goals-uniting all worlds, creating peace and prosperity for every living being who wanted to be a part of it.
Not a bad way to have spent her time ... but she was exhausted, tired of accepting the harsh responsibility for so many of the setbacks and mistakes, tired of carrying Bendes and the others through their tantrums and doubts. Let's not forget the loneliness, Jain, her mind whispered cruelly, all those days and weeks and months of secrets. She didn't need a reminder; it wasn't possible to forget. Not even Kettaract knew who she really was.
But after tonight, everything changed. There'd be a few weeks of initial research before they officially went public ... which meant she'd be able to get away for a week or two while the med docs and engineers started in, to take a real break. There was no way anyone would begrudge her that.
A week or two with Jim Kirk, she hoped--fulfilling the promise of that lingering kiss, definitely, but she thought there could be more. It would be a chance to find out... and even if nothing lasting came from it, she wasn't going to be worrying about having wasted her time, relaxing with an attractive, strong, honest man, maybe even telling him a few of her less compromising secrets. The irony really was something, considering his part in collecting the cloaking device that concealed the project.... not that he ever needed to know about that.
But I could talk about my work on the molecule. He's Starfleet, he'd be thrilled. In another hour or two, it wouldn't really matter if the truth got out about Kettaract's work. It just meant there'd be more people glorying in their success.
The renewed thought of what was about to happen made her heart pound. As she followed the others into the cafeteria, she could barely resist a sudden urge to dance. It was happening, it was finally happening.
The six scientists who were already sitting in the cafeteria were grouped together anxiously, huddled over cups of coffee. They watched their colleagues march in with carefully neutral expressions, but they couldn't hide their body language, the rounded shoulders, the lowered heads. Suni felt sorry for them; if she had any doubt that Bendes Kettaract could pull it off, she'd be scared, too.
"Everyone, take a seat, please," Kettaract said, walking toward the front of the room. "I'd like to say a few words."
Suni silently willed him to remember at least some of her extensive advice. It should be fine, he was in too good a mood to go off on one of his tears, as he'd done only the night before. She still couldn't believe that he'd been stupid enough to draw so much attention to himself, without even knowing how close they were to finishing.
Anyway, he can hardly screw up. Everyone here wants to believe.
"It appears that tonight's the night," he said, smiling widely. A few people applauded. "And it seems appropriate for me to stand up and tell you all how proud I am, that each of you is here with me, now. I know it hasn't always been easy, but you stuck it out; you studied the work, you saw its integrity and you made sacrifices in your own lives to come here, to live and work with me on my dream. And that's made it your dream, too."
Sounds like he actually listened for a change. He'd touched on the solidity of his work, added a note of humility and an acknowledgment that they'd all suffered a little. Exactly as she'd suggested.
"I realize that there's some concern out there, some nervousness," he continued, "and I think that's only natural. The awesome power of Omega is nothing to take lightly... but neither is the importance of what we're doing here. Is there a risk? Of course, though we all know that it's infinitesimal. But changing the course of history ... well, that's a risky business. And I believe, absolutely, that we are about to get a huge payoff for taking a very small chance.
"We are about to create a universe of possibility for our children, and our children's children ... for the future of every Federation citizen. Peace, forever."
He had them, the doubters. Suni could see it in Kaylor's eyes, in Patterson's face, in the way Angelo was puffing out his chest. It was exactly what they needed to hear.
Kettaract smiled, shaking his head. "Look at me, making speeches. All I
really wanted to do was say thank you, so... thank you. And thanks for listening More applause, laughter, shouted you're-welcomes. If Suni didn't know better, she might actually think he was a humble man; he hadn't bothered mentioning that in private he referred to most of them as lackeys, insisting that only a handful were actually competent... but then, that probably wouldn't set the right tone for Kettaract's big day.
Suni liked several people on the station. She'd taken pride in the work she'd done to contribute to Kettaract's molecule, and she believed deeply in the ultimate objective, giving the Federation the power it deserved ... but at the moment, tonight was all that mattered, and all that she really cared about. She'd been teamed with Bendes Kettaract to get results, and after nearly three years of hard work, she was finally going to prevail.
She was still thinking as much when she saw Dickerson motioning at her from the doorway. Kubaro Dickerson headed up the small group who kept the station's essentials running, and was the only other person on board sent by the experiment's supporters since Max had gone.
As soon as she reached him, he pulled her into the hall. He was uncharacteristically nervous, his expression worried, a small tic at the corner of his left eye.
"There's a ship out there," he said, keeping his voice low.
Instantly, Suni's happiness dried up. "What? Federation? How close?"
"Starfleet, Constitution-class," he said. "It's about eight hundred million kilometers out, but it looks like they're headed in this direction."
"No problems with the cloak?"
Dickerson shook his head. "No--but what the hell are they doing out here?"
Suni didn't answer. She was too busy mentally cursing Kettaract for his inflammatory rant back at the summit, practically begging for Starfleet to check him out.
It seemed that somebody had decided to take him up on it.
McCoy postponed the last of the crew physicals for a day, knowing that he was too preoccupied to do a good job. He paced sickbay instead, not sure what he should do. If Spock's theory was right--and his theories almost always were, confound him--Karen Patterson had hooked up with a rogue group of geniuses, convinced that they were going to change the universe. McCoy knew Jim well enough to know that he'd put a stop to their Omega experiment, one way or another but what about Karen? How obsessed was she with what she was working on, what if she wasn't interested in helping someone she'd barely known in med school?
And how am I supposed to get hold of her to find out?
Jim had been pretty vague about plans, beyond finding the station. The idea was to trace the Sphinx's recorded trajectory back into the Lantaru sector, and then look for recent particle exhaust from Kettaract's ship. Assuming they could even find the damned station, assuming that the scientists on board didn't try to escape when they realized they were found out, what then? Depending on how many people were involved, the Enterprise would either take Dr. Kettaract and his people into custody, or stand guard until a bigger transport ship could arrive ... but either way, Karen Patterson was probably going to end up in a penitentiary somewhere, and it seemed pretty unlikely that any of those places maintained disease-research facilities.
For about the millionth time since he'd been diagnosed, McCoy felt a surge of guilt, for worrying about himself over everything else, for considering practically everything by how it related to him, to curing his xenopolycythemia. He couldn't seem to help it. It was either that, or ... .. . or face death. Accept that you 're going to die.
He wasn't ready, and he wasn't about to give up, not when there was still a chance. When he realized that the ship had dropped out of warp, he headed straight for the bridge.
Everyone was at their stations, the viewscreen showing a big, empty nothing, as expected. McCoy moved to stand behind Jim's chair, gazing out at the expanse of blackness and stars.
"Anything?" Jim asked.
Spock was bent over his sensors. "Negative. I don't--"
He broke off, adjusting a knob on the side of his directed console. "Captain, I'm picking up matter antimatter particle exhaust bearing one one seven mark seven."
"Slow and steady, Mr. Sulu," Jim said, absently rubbing at his lower lip with the fingertips of his left hand, staring at the screen as though he expected to see something.
McCoy did the very same, and wondered if Karen was out there in the dark, staring back at them and wishing they would go away.
Chapter Fourteen
Kirk watched the screen as the Enterprise edged deeper into the Lantaru sector, thinking about their next move.
Spock had found traces of a post warp vent, what had to be Kettaract's ship, but it was dissipating fast--and even if they managed to stop right next to the station, Kirk couldn't think of a nonviolent way to force them to decloak. No one would be able to transport over, though he supposed they could send over some kind of recorded message... he didn't know about reasoning with Kettaract, but if he could get to Jain, he knew she would see sense.
If she has any say in the matter. She was smart, but Kettaract might have duped her into believing that everything was safe... just as he might have sabotaged the Sphinx without her knowing. He knew it was wishful thinking, but he also honestly couldn't imagine her hurting anybody. "Adjust to one two zero mark five," Spock said.
"Yes sir," Sulu acknowledged, watching his console.
"So what are you planning to do, exactly?" Bones asked, stepping forward to stand at Kirk's right. "Just fly around until we run into them?"
Kirk didn't answer McCoy's sardonic question, his mind going back to the idea of transporting an object through the cloak. It seemed like the best way to contact the station, and certainly the safest. The problem was not knowing the exact coordinates --and even if they got lucky, managed to drop a tricorder or clipboard into an open area on the station, they could end up beaming it into somebody's closet, somewhere no one would find it. The graviton field made finding life signs impossible; the energy output from the cloaking device was so great that it obscured all direct sensor readings, except for the existence of the gravitons themselves. Even then you had to be looking for them in a specific pattern, and all you'd end up finding if you tried to trace it was Of course. The thought was a revelation, the plan instantly in place. If Spock could find it, and Scotty could intensify a transporter beam high enough' Spock--using the graviton patterns that Mr. Scott recorded, would it be possible to zero in on the source? On the cloaking device itself?"
Spock straightened, an expression of intense deliberation on his face as he turned to look at Kirk.
"Yes," he said slowly, frowning. "I see ... assuming the facility is stationary. But transporting it would take an immense amount of energy ..." Kirk felt a flash of triumph at Spock's response. If Mr. Spock said it was possible, it was possible--and if the power existed, Scotty would find a way to make it happen.
"Full stop, Mr. Sulu, and stand by," Kirk said, reaching for the intercom. They'd never know what hit them.
Half an hour. If they could just stay hidden for another half hour, everything would be ready and it wouldn't matter anymore.
If there's a God, just give us a few more minutes, please, Suni thought as she hurried to the lab. The starship was less than fifteen thousand kilometers away and closing; there was no question in her mind that having lost the transport's signature--the only way they could have made it this close--they were sitting there scanning for unusual readings. She had nightmarish visions of the Starfleet vessel shooting a probe into what they saw as an anomaly, maybe directing a charged beam into it and destroying them all, either by directly hitting them hard enough to breach the hull or accidentally tripping off some of the potentially deadly chemicals and equipment they had around.
Kettaract was overseeing the final calibrations to the accelerators, double-checking the photomultiplier tubes, running back and forth and probably making a huge nuisance of himself when she arrived. She understood his excitement, but he was slowing things up. Until it was time to flip the last sw
itch for the countdown--and the honor was rightfully his--his presence wasn't required in the lab... and when he heard about the ship, he was going to go from being a hassle to being a raving, shouting distraction that they absolutely could not afford.
Please, God, give us a break, I'll never ask for anything ever again.
Determined not to disrupt anyone's concentration at such a crucial time, Suni pulled Kettaract toward the door, telling him she needed just a moment to discuss something--and before they'd gone two steps, the red-alert panels in the lab started to blink and caterwaul, the alarms resounding through the vast, open space and sounding like the end of the universe. And even through the surprised cries of the scientists and technicians, through her own racing, panicked thoughts and the absolute horror dawning on Kettaract's face, she realized, deep down, that either God didn't exist or that He absolutely hated her guts.
At the helm, Sulu watched the screen closely, wondering what was going to happen. Was a space station suddenly going to appear, like some photographic effect? Or would there be a few seconds, a kind of fading-in while the cloaking device was being transported?
Or will it work at all? So far as he knew, nothing like this had ever been tried before.
The intercom was open, Mr. Spock continuing to narrow the search while Mr. Scott carefully adjusted coordinates, the captain's clever idea slowly becoming a reality. In front of the ship there was only endless space, and though he tried to discern some sign, some blur or ripple that would give the cloaked station away, Sulu couldn't see a thing. It was eerie, thinking that there might be hundreds of people just sitting out there, silently watching ... "Captain, I've narrowed it to one square meter of the highest graviton density," Mr. Spock said. "I will not be able to reduce the area any further."