by Various
Excelsior-class. Named after a famous American Revolution battle centuries ago, I think... " "What? What're you... ? No!" he moaned. "Eppy, that's the Valley Forge, for crying out loud. I'm talking about Valhalla, the literary reference... " "Dammit, Mac, I'm a captain, not a librarian! How am I supposed to... wait... wait... " She frowned, racking her brain. "It's, uhm... that place. Norse mythology... " "Right... "
She was flipping her hand around as if trying to swat an annoying insect. "Where the warrior women lived... the Valkyries... and they'd come and bring fallen warriors to this place, this hall of dead heroes, and that was Valhalla... " "Exactly, yes. Well, the, uhm," he cleared his throat, "the interesting thing about myths, Eppy, is how entirely different civilizations, even worlds, have different versions of the same thing. Flood myths, for instance, are prevalent in many - "
She looked around at the forbidding landscape, cutting him off before he could continue. "Are you telling me we're in the Xenexian version of Valhalla?" "More or less, yes."
She took that in for a moment, and then threw her arms wide as if blocking a football pass and cried out, "Are you insane?!" "I don't think so," he said, trying to sound reasonable.
"Mac, the gateways take people through space and, occasionally, time!
They don't transport you to mythical places! Places like... " "Tuscaloosa?" he suggested.
She moaned. "No, that's a real place," she said, sagging back against a boulder.
"Really? Where?" "Arizona, or maybe Alabama... some damned state. I don't remember." "The point is, Eppy, that this place is Kaz'hera. The big guy who came out of the tent I was in... that's my father."
She was silent for a moment when he told her that. Then, very softly, she said, "Mac... I know your losing your father at a young age was traumatic for you... but... " "But what? What are you implying? That I'm imagining it? I'm having a dream, and you're in it with me?" "Believe it or not, Mac," she said, folding her arms, "I find that easier to believe than what you're suggesting." "Eppy... Kaz'hera is where Xenexian heroes, cut down in battle, go to die. When you first arrive," he said, as if reciting a beloved bedtime story, "you have to survive to see your first sunset in Kaz'hera. If you don't, you keep going back to the point where you left off. And once you've done that, you awaken every morning to a day of warfare and battle. And it doesn't matter if you get hurt, or if you die, because come the sunset, the day ends and the next morning you wake up and it's a new day. And the only thing you remember from the day before is anything that you've learned that's of immediate use. Otherwise you continually, blissfully spend every day for the rest of eternity engaged in pleasant and endless mayhem." "I see. I see." She smiled in a way that looked, to Calhoun, like it was just shy of patronizing. "And why - just out of curiosity - did all those men attack you? I mean, you were their warlord once upon a time, right? Of at least some of them, I mean. And you obtained freedom for their world. So one would think they'd have some loyalty to you." "Taking a guess," he said ruefully, scratching his chin, "they're probably carrying grudges. I mean, yes, I led Xenex to freedom, ultimately. But I also led a lot of men to their deaths. They may take pride in the manner of their death, but no one is going to be enthused about the actuality of dying. After all, that means they didn't get to enjoy the fruits of their labor. I recognized a good number of the men there, in that crowd. They looked angry with me. So I suppose they took the opportunity to avenge themselves on me. But I doubt they'll carry grudges. Carrying a grudge for eternity is simply too much work."
Having said that, he waited for her reaction, and found it to be exactly what he suspected it was going to be: an amused shaking of her head. She was dismissing it out of hand. He supposed he couldn't entirely blame her. "Mac, it's ridiculous. We can't be someplace that's not real." "I agree with you. Which leads us to one conclusion... "
She stared at him, the amused smile slowly vanishing from her face.
"You're saying that this... this... " "Kaz'hera." "This Kaz'hera... that it's real." "As real as Tuscaloosa." "And... we're dead, is what you're saying." "I'm not sure about that one," he admitted. "I mean, it's possible that we simply froze to death... but if that's the case, then I'm not sure why you'd be here, since you're not Xenexian. So far more likely that we came through the gateway - " "Straight to the eternal playground of your youth. And what's next, Mac? Hmmm?" She put her hands on her hips and gave him a Defiant look. "Maybe we'll find our way back to the gateway, jump through, and find ourselves in heaven, face-to-face with God." "Is that what this is about, Eppy?" he demanded. "You have trouble believing in higher powers, and as a consequence, all this is too much for you to cope with?" "I cope with being your wife, Calhoun. That's enough coping for one lifetime."
He stepped in close to her and said tightly, "How about an eternity of lifetimes, Eppy? Because that's what we've got here. And you can spend eternity arguing about it, and refusing to accept what's right before you... or you can start taking things on faith."
And he stomped away, so incensed over Shelby's refusal to accept what he was telling her that he didn't notice the freshly dug ambush pit until it was a millisecond too late. As he plunged, with the jagged, sharpened stones rushing to meet him, he cursed Eppy with his dying breath and wondered how many times he'd made that curse...
"Is that what this is about, Eppy?" he demanded. "You have trouble believing in higher powers, and as a consequence, all this is too much for you to cope with?" "I cope with being your wife, Calhoun. That's enough coping for one lifetime."
He stepped in close to her and said tightly, "How about an eternity of lifetimes, Eppy? Because that's what we've got here. And you can spend eternity arguing about it, and refusing to accept what's right before you... or you can start taking things on faith."
He started to stomp away, and at that moment, Shelby felt a sudden warning in her head. She had no idea why, no clue as to what could or would happen, but it was enough to make her cry out, as if his life depended on it, "Mac!"
He stopped, but remained with his back to her. She walked quickly to him, boots crunching against the dry ground, and she wondered if it ever rained in paradise. Taking him by the elbow, she turned him around to face her. "What's going on here, Mac?" "What do you mean, _What's going on here'?" he said, looking and sounding defensive. "I've already explained the - " "No," she shook her head. "I mean what's going on here, with you.
I've never seen you like this."
He looked at her uncomprehendingly. "I don't know what you mean - " "Yes, you do, Mac." She took a deep breath. "Actually... I don't think you have to tell me. I think I know what's going through your mind." "Do you?"
In the distance she saw the Xenexians going through training maneuvers.
For all she knew, another wave of opponents - she couldn't call them "enemies," really - would come charging from across the way at any time. And why not? That's what it was all about, after all, wasn't it? Endless strife? Endless battle? She let out the breath she'd taken and told him, "I think you want to stay." "That's ridiculous." "No. No, it's not. I think it's damned attractive to you. No rules, because they don't matter. What you do by the book one day, you throw out the next day, and none of it makes any difference for as long as the sun rises and sets. But this place, Mac... this place... it can't be.
There's nothing that says the gateways can actually take us to... to otherworldly spheres. We're having a... a mutual delusion or something, trapped in some sort of other-dimensional limbo perhaps. It's a spacial equivalent of a holodeck. There have been cases, documented cases, of sections of space where the mind makes reality out of fantasy... " "Why are you doing this?" he demanded, and she saw that he was getting angry, really angry. "Why is it so damned impossible for you to believe? I've been hearing stories of Kaz'hera, believed in it, since as... as early as I can remember... " "And I heard about the Hundred Acre Woods, Mac, but I'm not going in search of Winnie-the-Pooh. This, all of this... it's not real. It's what we said before, a sort of... of mutu
al delusion. But it's not real... " "It's as real as we want it to be," said Calhoun forcefully. Then his eyes widened as he realized, "Xyon... " "Your son? What about him?" "I... I thought he was dead. But I haven't seen Xyon here.
Maybe... maybe he's alive. Maybe... "
She took him by the shoulders and said firmly, "Mac... we have to leave."
He looked at her Defiantly. "If this is being formed by our mutual delusion, why is it only someplace that I'm familiar with?" he demanded.
"Why aren't we in whatever you picture as heaven?"
And with all the sincerity that she was capable of mustering, she said, "Because I believe in you more than I believe in anything in this world... or the next. But now," and her voice dropped to barely a whisper, filled with urgency and pleading, "you've got to believe in me... or, at the very least, believe me when I tell you that I'm leaving here. This place isn't for me. It's not for you, either. You've grown beyond this. You know that in your heart." "Grown beyond it? What are you talking about?" "Mac... think. Think about where we just came from, how we got here." He was looking at her blankly, and she thought, Oh, my God, he really doesn't remember... he's got amnesia or something. It's this place, it's done it to him. Speaking faster, she said, "Two races, the Aerons and the Markanians, who were engaged in a centuries-long battle. Battling over their own version of paradise, a planet called Sinqay, and their battle of mutual extermination was aided by two Iconians, each with their own gateway devices. We all wound up on Sinqay, only to discover the planet was a desolate wasteland thanks to generations of fighting that had gone on previously... " "Yes," Calhoun said briskly, "and then both Smyts turned on their gateways, and it created some sort of force whirlpool that sucked us into the ice planet, where that gigantic gateway was waiting for us, and why are you telling me all this when I already know it?" "Oh." She felt a bit stupid for a moment. "I... I thought you'd, uhm... forgotten." "How could I forget?" he asked, as if she'd lost her mind. "It didn't happen last century." "You're missing the point, Mac!" "Well, what the hell was the point?!" "The point is that you can't stay here!" "Because you say it's not real, and so I'd be wasting my time," he said, and there was such bitterness and anger in his voice that she was taken aback by it. "Because it's something that you can't believe in, and therefore there's something wrong with me for contemplating - even for a moment - embracing it. Because you have trouble believing in anything greater than yourself, and since that's the case, you'd deny me the opportunity as well."
She stepped away from him and, because she couldn't look him in the eye, looked around at the vast plain instead. Rocks and craggy areas nearby them, and the endless vista of... of nothingness. In the distance she could hear the shouts and laughter of the Xenexians in the Keep, and even as far away as she was, she was able to pick up words here and there, all of them in anticipation of the next battle, and the one after that, and the one after that. Xenexian paradise.
Death without permanence, the thrill of battle without the threat of long-term damage.
"Maybe you're right," she said softly. "Maybe... I'm afraid to believe in the reality of this place... because then it implies that other things... things I'm not... comfortable with... might also be real... "
He looked at her with confusion. "Why... _not comfortable'?" "Because, Mac," sighed Shelby, "things like heaven... or angels... or God... these are things that are, by definition, unknowable.
I don't... accept... the concept of _unknowable.' Anything that is... I should be able to explore. To touch. To face. It's right in the Starfleet credo, Mac. If it exists... I want to be able to boldly go there, even if no one has before. I don't want anyone, or anything, putting up signs and saying, _This far and no further.' If mankind can't discover it, learn from it... what's the point of it?"
To her surprise, he laughed gently at that. "Humanity is a very egocentric species," he observed.
"Well, I guess we haven't come all that far from a time when we believed the sun orbited us." She'd been leaning against another rock, and she pushed off it and stood in front of Calhoun, taking one hand in each of hers. Not for the first time, she noticed how rough his hands were, and the corded strength in each of his fingers. "Mac... what I was saying before about the Aerons and Markanians... I was trying to make you realize that endless fighting is a useless way to spend one's life. It doesn't matter whether you're Markanian or Xenexian.
Even if this is all real... even if we're in Xenexian Valhalla... you deserve better than this. Useless remains useless, and it's a tremendous waste of the man you've become and the man you could be!
Okay? Do you get that now, Mac? Do you get what I'm saying?" His face was inscrutable. She could get no read off him at all, and she knew it was time to draw the line. "Tell me now, because whether you get it or not, I'm leaving." "Leaving? Leaving for what?" he asked skeptically. "Even if we manage to retrace our steps, even if we find the gateway... all it'll do is put us right back out onto the ice world." "Maybe we'll be rescued." "Not a lot of time to be rescued in, Eppy. More likely we'll die." "Well then," she shrugged, "maybe I'll get to explore the whole heaven thing after all."
For a long, long moment he was silent, and in that moment, she was absolutely positive that she had lost him. That she was going to wander around, on her own, trying to find - perhaps unto eternity - the gateway. Hell, the damned thing probably wouldn't even be open.
He wasn't moving. Well... that was that.
She stood on her toes, kissed him lightly on the cheek, and she wasn't sure what prompted her to say it, but she whispered, "Godspeed" into his ear. Then she turned and started to walk away, and found - to her surprise - that she was praying for Mac to come with her.
From behind her, he called, "You're asking me to give up everything I believe in, in order to be with you. And if we go back and we die together... I'd likely wind up back here, and you would be... wherever... "
She stopped, turned and smiled. "I guess that's what _till death do us part' is all about, isn't it, Mac?"
They faced each other then, a seeming gulf between them, and she wondered whether they'd ever faced each other like this before.
Whether they were, in fact, replaying a moment over and over and over again, coming this far together and no further.
Calhoun let out a heavy sigh, then, and it seemed to Shelby at that moment that a very, very small part of him died just a little bit when he did so.
" _Till death do us part,' " he agreed, and walked toward her. And with a cry of joy that was slightly choked, Shelby ran to him and threw herself into his arms, holding him so tightly that she found it hard to believe, at that moment, that there had ever been a time when they weren't embracing one another.
That was when, from behind them, a gruff voice growled, "Is this what you've come to, then?"
They turned and Gr'zy was standing there, the mustache under his nose bristling, his purple eyes dark and furious as the sea. His hand was twitching near the great sword that hung from his hip, but he did not draw it. "Is this what you've come to?" his father said again. "A chance to be with me... to be with your own kind... and you throw it all away to run off with... " He could barely get the word out. ". . . her? You would place love above the glory of battle? Have you no priorities?" "I have mine, you have yours," said Calhoun. Shelby had no idea what that pronouncement was costing him, but he said it with conviction and certainty. His mind was made up, and for that she felt abundant relief, because there was nothing in the universe more stubborn, more determined, and more implacable than a Mackenzie Calhoun with his mind made up.
"You're no son of mine," said his father angrily, turning away.
"No son of yours?" Calhoun repeated the phrase with obvious incredulity.
But when he spoke, it was not in a pleading or whining tone, the voice of a child imploring a parent for approval. It was the voice of a man who knew his mind, knew in his heart that he was right, and was setting the record straight for someone too dense to see it. "Everything I
did, I did in your memory. Every Danteri bastard I cut down with my sword, I did so avenging your death. I freed a planet on your behalf and if that isn't good enough to earn your approval in the afterlife, then to hell with you."
Gr'zy took a step toward him, drawing a hand back as if ready to belt his son across the face. Calhoun made no move to stop it; merely stood there, his chin upturned, as if expecting it. Gr'zy froze like that for a long moment, and then turned without another word and strode away.
A feather-light hand on his arm, Shelby whispered, "Mac... are you okay?"
He looked at her and, for just a moment, there was infinite pain in his eyes, and then - just like that - it was gone, masked. "I'm fine," he said. "Let's get out of here."
They moved quickly across the plains, no words exchanged between them. Calhoun led the way, scanning the ground, looking for signs of where they'd been, tracking, using his expertise, missing nothing.
"This way," he said firmly. "I'm reasonably certain that if we follow this path, tracking these clods of dirt, and the chipped-away bits of... " "Or we could just head for the gateway," she said, her eyes wide, clearly unable to believe her luck as she pointed ahead of them. And there, sure enough, was a glowing in the air. It was a distance away, but it was unmistakable: the gateway.