The Returned, Part I

by Peter David

  Robin, lighten up.

  They walked into the building where the prime minister’s office was situated and then through the halls. She saw office workers glancing at her, their faces dispassionate. She wished she could somehow just lay their minds open and see what was going through them, but that was wishful thinking.

  Some sort of aide or secretary was standing just outside a door. She gestured toward it and said, “Here.”

  Lefler nodded toward her and started toward the door. As she passed the woman, she was startled when the Thallonian said to her in a very low voice, “Be careful.” Robin’s head snapped around, but the woman had already turned away, allowing for Lefler and McHenry to enter.

  A Thallonian man was sitting behind a large desk. He rose when they entered and nodded to them. “Robin Lefler. And Cwansi. And”—his gaze shifted—“McHenry, I am told? Is that your name?”

  “It is,” said McHenry.

  “Well, Mister McHenry, welcome to New Thallon.”

  “Happy to be here.”

  He gestured for them to sit in the two chairs that were situated opposite him. They did so, Lefler cradling her son carefully. “I am Shintar Han,” he said, “the newly elected prime minister.”

  Lefler had been following New Thallonian politics, so she knew that calling it an election was debatable at best. But she wasn’t about to say something to the effect of, I understand that your opponents met with unfortunate deaths. She had to allow for the possibility that it was indeed just coincidence. “It is an honor to meet you, Shintar Han. Congratulations on your election.”

  “I appreciate that. And I appreciate your coming here with my fleet.”

  “Your fleet did not give me a choice,” Lefler pointed out. “They threatened to destroy the ship that I was on.”

  “That is true enough. You must admit, though, that it got your attention.”

  “It did indeed. And that leaves us here,” she said, gesturing around them. “Because you—or rather, your representative—informed us that we were brought here to groom Cwansi for his future.”

  “Cwansi’s future, yes. That is the topic of this discussion.”

  “Good. So let’s discuss it.”

  “Very well.” He leaned back in his chair. “I want you to know that I have given this a great deal of thought. My original plan was that I was going to spend the next years aiding you in raising Cwansi in the Thallonian philosophies. His education would be the very best. He would be thoroughly schooled in all the greatest Thallonian traditions. He would be introduced to his people, and be educated about them, and—with any luck—grow up to be someone that they could love, admire, and support. Eventually, upon reaching the age of maturity, he would take over as the ruler of New Thallon. His rising to that position would effectively eliminate the role of prime minister as he took over the governance of New Thallon, and we would revert to a monarchy, in all likelihood. Because that is, as near as I can ascertain, what the people want.”

  “That sounds to me like an acceptable plan,” said Lefler.

  “Yes, but . . . here is the problem. As I noted, it would make my position irrelevant. And the longer I thought about that, as I waited for you to be brought here, the more I realized that that was simply not an option that I desired. And so I have instead come up with a second option.”

  “Really?” Her hopes began to rise. Had he decided that he wanted her to return to the Excalibur and live her life? Was he going to instruct his people to return her forthwith? “And what specifically did you have in mind?”

  Very calmly, as if announcing the weather, he said, “You and your son are going to have to die.” He glanced at McHenry and added, “You do not. I have no interest in you, so if you stay out of the way, you can live.”

  “Now wait a damned minute,” said Lefler. “That’s not the deal that was offered to me!”

  “The deal’s changed.”

  The door suddenly slid open and four guards strode in. They were heavily armed, and they had their weapons drawn. Lefler was immediately on her feet, holding Cwansi defensively. McHenry remained in his chair, looking up at them as if amused.

  “Understand,” continued Han, “that I do not relish the job of being a slayer of children. Personally, I have nothing against either you or your son. But you are in the unfortunate situation of being alive. You represent something to the people that I simply cannot tolerate. Therefore, I have decided that your lives must be ended. If it is of any consequence, I have instructed these men to make your deaths quick and painless. I see that your son is sleeping; he will not feel a thing. As for you, one shot to the head and done. And as I said, McHenry, you can go on with your life.”

  “Aren’t you concerned I’ll tell people what I saw here today? Tell them about how you killed their future ruler and his mother?” McHenry sounded genuinely curious.

  “You are an offworlder. I very much doubt anyone will believe you.”

  “Good point,” said McHenry. He glanced at Lefler. “He’s got a good point.” Then he turned back to Han. “However, I’m afraid I’m going to have to pass up the generous opportunity you’re giving me to just walk away. But how about if I make you a counteroffer?”

  Han wasn’t entirely sure how to react to that. “A counteroffer?”

  “Yes, sir. You tell your men to leave, retract your threats against Robin Lefler and Cwansi . . . and go with your first plan of raising the child for a life of service and to rule to his people . . . and I will let you live.”

  Han stared in confusion at him. “I understand that you are some manner of transporter. I am not certain how you think you have that sort of power.”

  “I understand that,” said McHenry. He actually sounded sympathetic. “Most people don’t know what I can do. Not all that long ago, even Captain Calhoun made it clear that he didn’t know. I even told him that I didn’t have any real sort of offensive capabilities. That I had many uses, but was not especially of any worth in a fight.”

  “All right,” said Han.

  “The thing is”—McHenry smiled lopsidedly—“I was lying about that. I didn’t want him to know what I could do because I was afraid he might try to take advantage of it. Or perhaps he might feel threatened by me. It’s really hard to say. Either way, I felt lying was the better way to go. But it was in fact a lie. I have devastating offensive powers. You can’t kill me, no matter how hard you might try. And if you try anything against Robin Lefler or her son, I will destroy you. Do we understand each other?”

  Han stared at him with growing annoyance. It was obvious that McHenry was getting on his nerves. So he turned to his men and said, “Kill them.”

  They raised their weapons and pointed.

  McHenry turned and stretched out his hands, and lightning bolts exploded from his fingertips. The first array of electricity struck their weapons, and the guards shrieked as the shock ripped through the rifles, tearing through their arms. One of them keeled over immediately, his heart momentarily stopping in response to the shock. The others started reaching for the hand weapons that were hanging on their hips.

  They never made it. McHenry casually swung his arm and more lightning blasted from his hands. This time it struck the guards directly, sending them flying off their feet. They smashed up against the door and the walls and sank to the ground. Smoke was rising from their flesh and their uniforms, and they lay there gasping in shock.

  Han was on his feet. He had pulled his weapon from his desk drawer, and he now fired it point blank at McHenry’s back, which was turned to him. The energy blast crackled against McHenry’s back and then dissipated without injuring him in the slightest.

  McHenry turned and stared at Han. “Did you think I was kidding?” he asked. He glanced at the disruptor. “Lower that or eat it. Your choice.”

  Han lowered it.

  “Now,” said McHenry, and that same damned
smile was plastered across his face, “I believe that we have an understanding here. Robin Lefler is going to abide by her agreement with you and stay here to raise Cwansi. Because, in my humble opinion, he could really take advantage of what this world has to offer. And I’m reasonably sure that Robin wants to stay here out of dedication to the memory of her husband. Am I right, Robin?”

  Lefler managed a nod.

  “Okay, then,” said McHenry in a chipper fashion. “So Robin and I are going to return to our quarters now. If you have anyone outside waiting to ambush us when we leave, I suggest you call them off because, if you don’t, I’ll destroy them. We will allow Cwansi to get a few years older, and then you’ll hire tutors to begin working with him. Everything is going to be fine. And if you try to hurt her or her son, I will prevent you from accomplishing it and destroy anyone you send. Do we understand each other?”

  Han’s mouth moved but he was unable to speak.

  And suddenly McHenry seemed to grow. The interior of the office darkened and it appeared as if clouds were rolling in, McHenry was filling the entirety of the place. Han cried out and he tried to run, but couldn’t, because McHenry was everywhere.

  “I said, do we understand each other?” McHenry’s voice rumbled like thunder.

  “Yes! Yes!” shrieked Han, throwing his hands in front of his face as if trying to ward off something that had been thrown directly at him.

  And just like that, McHenry was back to normal. It had all happened so quickly that Han was clearly uncertain if it had happened at all.

  “Good,” said McHenry cheerfully. He was standing now, and he turned to Lefler. “I think we can go now.” He stepped over one of the fallen guards and took Robin’s hand. She stood, making sure that Cwansi was safe in her arms. “This has been a truly beneficial first meeting, Prime Minister. I hope you got as much out of it as we did.”

  Han managed a nod.

  McHenry draped an arm around Robin’s shoulders. “We should do breakfast sometime,” he said to Han as they walked out of the room.

  Excalibur

  i.

  WE SHOULD HAVE been there immediately. It should have taken seconds.

  Calhoun was becoming increasingly worried. He had never passed through a wormhole before, but all the reading he had done on them led him to believe that passage should be instantaneous.

  But that wasn’t happening. The trip through the wormhole was stretching from seconds into minutes, and it was starting to have an impact on the Excalibur. The ship was shaking violently. Everyone was seated because they would not have been able to maintain their footing if they’d been walking around.

  Space was exploding around them, hurtling past them at unimaginable speed. At first the light show they were witnessing had entranced Calhoun, but now he was starting to get tired of it. “Soleta,” he said, “are we moving forward? Are we getting to the end of this thing?”

  “We are definitely moving, Captain. But I am uncertain of how much longer the trip will take.”

  He leaned forward and his voice was rising in concern. “Is there any proof that this isn’t a trap? For all we know, this will never end. We could be trapped in this forever, like a black hole.”

  “If this were a black hole, we would be dead by now,” she replied.

  “Xy? Do you concur?” said Calhoun.

  Xy did not hesitate. “Yes, Captain. Whatever this phenomenon is, we are definitely moving through it. By my readings, we should be through it within the next sixty seconds.”

  “Really.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The ship was beginning to shake more violently. Damage reports were starting to pour in from various parts of the vessel. Nothing structural so far, but it was becomingly increasingly evident that the ship was not going to be able to endure the pounding it was receiving for much longer. If anything, it seemed as if the twists in space and time that the ship was hurtling through were becoming even more violent.

  “Captain,” said Kebron, “if this continues much longer, we’re going to start taking on structural damage.”

  “We will make it,” muttered Soleta.

  “Maintain course and speed,” said Calhoun. “Soleta . . .” he added warningly.

  “We’ll make it,” she repeated.

  The shaking was starting to become deafening. On the bridge, they had to shout so they could hear each other. Calhoun squeezed the armrests, ticking down the seconds in a mental countdown. Twenty seconds to Xy’s predicted minute terminating. Eighteen, seventeen . . .

  And suddenly they were out.

  The wormhole around them dissolved and normal space returned.

  “All stop!” shouted Calhoun.

  The ship continued forward motion until Tobias was able to regain control of the ship’s navigation. Seconds later, the ship had come to a halt. The crew let out a collective sigh of relief. Calhoun sagged back in his chair and, realizing that he was sweating profusely, wiped his forehead clean.

  Then he turned to Xy. “You made up the part about one more minute, didn’t you.”

  Xy shrugged. “I figured it was worth a shot.”

  “Okay, well . . . good job. Kebron, ship’s status.”

  “Well, we’re not leaking air,” Kebron said drily. “Ship’s structure remains intact. Some internal damage, but nothing the repair crews can’t handle. Engines remain sound. Our shields took some hits; however, they’re in the process of recycling, and we should be back at full strength within ten minutes.”

  “Excellent. Soleta . . .” He turned toward her.

  She waited. Then: “Yes, sir?”

  “Well done. We trusted you and you didn’t let us down.”

  “I never will, sir.”

  Calhoun had no interest in dwelling excessively on praising his team. He had other things to concern himself about. “So explain to me,” he said, “just how large a pocket universe is?”

  “It is impossible to know for certain, Captain,” said Soleta. “It is all relative to us. It could conceivably be as big as our own universe is to us.”

  “That’s not terribly useful in terms of tracking the D’myurj.”

  “I know.”

  “Kebron, full sensor scans,” Calhoun said. “Let’s see what we have around us. If we’re lucky, we’ll find it immediately.”

  “Yes, because that happens all the time,” Tobias muttered. Calhoun heard the comment but didn’t bother to remonstrate her for it.

  It was fortunate that he didn’t, because she turned out to be correct.

  The preliminary sensor scans turned up absolutely nothing. They were able to track down a variety of worlds. Not only did none of them have the D’myurj or the Brethren populating them, but they all appeared devoid of life altogether.

  Minutes stretched into hours as the Excalibur slowly moved through space. In terms of space itself, it really didn’t look much different than where they had come from. Calhoun had been wondering whether there would be different colorations of things, or planets that were cubes instead of globes, or something that was different from what they were accustomed to. But no, not a damned thing. Aside from the fact that there were arrays of stars grouped in no constellation that they had ever seen, this pocket universe was pretty much identical to the one they’d left behind.

  Calhoun was not pleased with what he was seeing—or, more correctly, what he wasn’t seeing.

  ii.

  KALINDA SAT IN the quarters she shared with Tobias and stared off into space.

  She was perfectly aware of the encounter that they had had with Thallonian vessels earlier. The ship may have been large, but in many respects it was quite small, and word spread very quickly. No one, aside from Tobias, had extended conversations with Kally; she tended to keep to herself. But she was exceptionally good at listening to passing conversations and therefore was aware of eve
rything that was going on.

  She knew about the cloaking shield and that everyone expected it to provide protection against attacking vessels. And she knew that everyone was frustrated, and shaken over the fact that they had failed to do so. And everyone was trying to figure out exactly why.

  Most of the crew seemed, on some level, to be blaming Soleta. It was her cloaking device, after all. And she was a Romulan. Yes, the captain trusted her, but who really knew where her alliances lay? Some believed that she had somehow rigged the cloaking device to fail at the worst possible moment. This notion was rejected by others who were either loyal to Soleta or loyal to the fact that the captain believed in her, so they did too. Kalinda had a way of listening in on the spirited debates that were being held even as crew members went about their duty without noticing Kalinda’s eavesdropping.

  Kalinda kept thinking about other things.

  Like Xyon.

  Xyon, who had sought out the ship to come aboard and propose to her, even though he must have known that she would turn him down.

  Xyon, who had wanted to discuss matters that had already been discussed.

  Xyon, who really had no reason for being on the ship at all.

  Xyon, who did nothing without a reason.

  So why was he on the ship?

  “Why was he on the ship?” she said aloud.

  There had to be a reason. It wasn’t just to talk to her. Yes, he had talked to her, but that wasn’t the reason; just an excuse. She was seeing that more clearly now. So why else would he be on the ship? Not to talk to his father; Calhoun hadn’t been aboard. Perhaps . . .

  Perhaps he had been aware that Calhoun was not aboard. Perhaps he had chosen that moment specifically because Calhoun would have been suspicious of his arrival and questioned him thoroughly, perhaps even search him and find . . .

  Find what?

  Slowly Kalinda started to look around the room and see it differently. Very slowly, she put together in her mind a mental image of everywhere that Xyon had been when he had been in the room. He had spent most of it sitting in the chair that she was sitting on right now.