S’task’s whisper sounded in Karatek’s ear. “Ask about life downworld. What of biospecimens? Ask if their healer found any. Did they…?”
Had they found any specimens of life on a world that was half furnace and half ice? And did the specimens survive the attack that killed the healer and could have destroyed the shuttle?
Now, Sarissa stepped forward.
“Before coming here, Serevan and I went over the shuttle. No,” she held up a hand, thinner than Karatek remembered seeing it. “We were escorted by security. But I—we—found Healer Salvir’s last report. He filed it just before Adenkar struck him.
“There was life,” she went on. “Nothing large: I should not like to confront a large creature that could survive in that waste. But as his report indicates, he found fossils from three separate species, which argues that there might logically be more. He found them preserved in ice. Then, he indicated he had observed at least thirty-six separate kinds of extremophiles, mostly by the volcanic vents beneath the ice.”
“So life can exist on that world.”
Sarissa shrugged. “Extremophiles can be found almost anywhere, even in the Womb of Fire, although I understand that the Fire Plains of Raal, at the center of Vulcan’s Forge, are said to be truly barren. So this discovery is not as surprising as the creatures’ rate of evolution or, as the late T’Kehr Salvir preferred to term it, mutation. In 9.3 days, he observed several tens of thousands of generations. Enough to see changes in their genetic makeup as well as physical transformations.”
She projected creatures that resembled algae and diatoms on one wall, then flicked through a series of images. Even with his unassisted eyes, Karatek could discern subtle differences in pigmentation, in morphology.
“I’d like to see a long-term study of this world’s impact on species native to Vulcan,” said Avarak.
“You would sacrifice…”
“You yourself constantly tell us how the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. In the interests of science—”
“In the interests of getting down to that hell-spawned world and pillaging it for dilithium and rare metals to repair your precious ships!” snarled N’Evran.
“Are you afraid of it?”
The te-Vikram, a physical match for Serevan himself, rose slowly from his chair. “I was born in the Womb of Fire. On Vulcan, we te-Vikram were used to living on the edge of radiation-poisoned lands. I do not fear that world. It is a place of danger, a test of strength.”
“Are you volunteering to live on it?”
“That’s no place to live,” said T’Olryn. “I wonder if any minerals we find down there are worth the risk to our people.”
“An outpost, then,” said Vorealt, to approving murmurs from other men and women who had been born during the exile. “Not a home. A temporary mining colony that will enable us to rebuild our ships.”
“An outpost facing constant struggle to survive down to our genetic code. It’s already been weakened by the years of our journey. If we went down there to live, even temporarily, we might change…. Come back in five hundred years, and we might not recognize our descendants.”
“Are you that fearful of change? Long before we were tricked into exile, we lived in the desert. We avoided the places where our blood ran thin, our skin blotched, and our children were born malformed or too weak to live. And we survived.”
“Are you volunteering?”
“No,” said the te-Vikram. “I prefer to be somewhere warm. Or is your logic only good for rationalizing and keeping you warm and safe?”
As the shouting began yet again, Karatek indulged himself by closing his eyes, but only briefly.
Twenty-Eight
Now
WATRAII HOMEWORLD
STARDATE 54107.8
Ruanek bit back a sigh of sheer frustration. By now, he thought, all this traveling basically in circles, trying to get back to the installation and at the same time avoid those cursed search parties was truly starting to get to him. And there was the lack of real food (emergency rations, no matter how supposedly nutritious, did not qualify as food as far as he was concerned, and never had), a night spent sleeping on rocks, and of course the never-ending knowledge that precious time was passing without them getting anywhere—all of it was beginning to force him to realize just how long it had been since he’d been in active Romulan military service.
And how little I’d want to return to it. Ah well, as Spock would put it, one does what one can. Not that I’ll ever admit to anyone that I’m not exactly the warrior I once was.
But oh, it would be lovely to have one of those perfectly logical and so very effective Vulcan therapeutic massages right now.
Administered by T’Selis, maybe…no, then it wouldn’t be so…ah…therapeutic…. Well, yes it would be, in a way, but not exactly in the way that…
“There,” Data announced, cutting into Ruanek’s thoughts and pointing (but keeping warily in the shelter of the rocks as he did so). “That is where the artifact is being kept.”
A thrill of sharp excitement shot through Ruanek, but he fiercely repressed it. This was not the time to go utterly Romulan, even though it would be really easy to do so by this point. “Ah,” he said, leaning over the top of one rock to get a better look. “They aren’t about to make this easy for us, are they?”
Data gave a soft, very human-sounding sigh. “It would seem that they are not.”
Ahead of them stood a separate building, a thick, square, ugly gray thing, without any sign of charm.
“It’s metal.” Ruanek shook his head in disbelief. “The cursed thing is made out of metal. One big lightning rod.”
“It is a fortified one, as well,” Data added.
“Redundant, aren’t they? I can spot the main security installations from here,” Ruanek said. “They’re not exactly trying to hide them. The word is ‘obvious.’”
“So are the guards patrolling the building.”
“Patrolling at a safe distance.” Ruanek glanced at Data. “Those, we can overcome, we both know it. But lightning is another matter. Oh, and I suspect there’s even more protecting the place than the obvious.” He paused. “Am I right? Is there anything else, Data?”
“Oh yes,” the android said after a moment. “There are sensors placed throughout the building…and I do believe there is…yes, there is a vault lying within it.”
“And the artifact’s inside that, isn’t it?” Ruanek shook his head in disgust. “It’s like one of those box-within-a-box puzzles I used to get when I was a child. I didn’t like those then, either.”
“Really? I found such puzzles quite fascinating when I first became sentient.”
“Nice to know that you had a—a childhood,” Ruanek said, “and toys too—”
“Actually, they were learning devices.”
“Toys, learning devices, whatever you wish to call them, it’s not exactly a useful fact right now. The artifact isn’t going to rescue itself.”
“Then perhaps I should be the one to—”
“No!” With a surge of emotion that surprised him both by its suddenness and its sheer intensity, Ruanek exclaimed, “I demand the honor of rescuing the artifact.”
Of course you do, his mind whispered to him. The artifact, whatever it might be, had, after all, been the prized possession of his…his former people for many centuries. And you are still, underneath it all, Ruanek admitted to himself, even now, even after all this time, even after you have no intention of ever leaving Vulcan, a Romulan.
It was more than a little disconcerting to realize that fact.
Data didn’t even try to argue with him. But then, Ruanek thought, the android had spent some time on Romulus. He’d know something about the Romulan heart and soul. Besides, his emotion chip was functioning. He’d understand.
Sure enough, all Data said after a moment’s silence was a matter-of-fact “I can get rid of the guards.”
At Ruanek’s raised eyebrow, Data gave him a “watch an
d see” gesture, and then calmly “threw” his voice. In the next moment, Ruanek fought back a purely Romulan grin of enjoyment. How the android was doing this, Ruanek had no idea, since it seemed to be on a wider scale than human ventriloquism, but he could have sworn that not just one but several not very adept and unauthorized visitors were stumbling their way through the rocks on the far side of the stronghold.
He pointed. The guards were clearly upset, muttering to each other and looking about, trying to locate the intruders. Then one of the guards pointed, and the Watraii set off after the intruders.
But one guard stopped for a moment and Ruanek heard “…unauthorized personnel…” and a series of codes. Word had clearly just been sent to the guards’ superiors.
Data and Ruanek exchanged quick glances. “How lovely,” Ruanek said. “They’ve just given us yet another reason to hurry.”
“For a Vulcan citizen, you seem rather sarcastic,” Data commented.
“For a Starfleet officer, so do you,” Ruanek replied. “Can you scramble the security system from here?”
“Some of it, yes. Just a minute, now…” Data reactivated his tricorder and started operating it at a speed so great that Ruanek could not make out the android’s fingers. “There…” he murmured, “and…there. One remains functioning—I will need to deactivate that one directly. In addition, it is wise to leave one working as long as possible, so that anyone monitoring the building will not become instantly suspicious.”
“Good point. Come on, then, let’s see how close we can get before we get electrocuted.”
They stopped short just before that one remaining functioning security system could pick them up. “Ah,” Data said.
“Ah? Ah what?”
“We have a new worry.”
“Now what?”
“Up this close, I realize that the vault is a timed-entry one.”
“What of it?” Ruanek asked. “You can still get it open, can’t you?”
“Yes,” Data said after a few seconds. “But it will take me some precious time to manage the feat. And we both know that the figurative clock is ticking down to the time when, one, the Watraii come in answer to that guard’s broadcast, and, two, the Alexander Nevsky must lift.”
“Then don’t waste any of that time in telling me what I already know. Go ahead, get it open.”
“Very well…a moment more…yes.” Data smiled in triumph. “I have just scrambled the locks. They were not very complicated machinery after all. You should be able to get in now without either getting caught or having any alarms sounding.”
Ruanek ignored that uncertain “should.” He gave the overcast sky one wary look, then shrugged and peered into the open vault, not at all sure what he was going to find besides darkness and the eternal gray dust and grit…
The artifact! It didn’t look particularly Romulan, yet somehow Ruanek knew what he was seeing, knew it deep within his being, even though he had never seen even a picture of it before this moment.
The heart of Romulus, he thought, the birth of a people…
No, he chided himself in the next moment, you aren’t being logical. It’s an artifact, yes, but you have no idea what it really contains.
But whatever it was, it belonged to all Romulans. That much he did know—and that he was going to get it back for them.
At first glance, the artifact seemed to be merely sitting alone on a small table of the inevitable gray stone. Ruanek had to fight the urge to simply rush in and snatch it up.
“It can’t be that easy,” he said.
“It is not.” Data pointed, there, there, and there. “The artifact is guarded by laser beams that will be triggered by the approach of any being.”
Ruanek snorted. “How old-fashioned of the Watraii.”
“Old-fashioned?”
“It reminds me of the security setup in the late Praetor Dralath’s gardens back on Romulus. Well, they failed to save him, and these aren’t going to do the Watraii any good, either, not if I have any say in this.” He paused thoughtfully. “We can’t just shoot out the controls. I’ll wager everything that if we did, we’d be sending an alarm to the Watraii. So instead, I’ll have to just weave my way through—”
“Wait.”
“Now what?”
“It is not that precisely simple, either. There are also active panels that will deliver an electric shock through the floor.”
“A fatal shock, of course.”
“Of course.”
Ruanek sighed. “There would be something along those lines. I still say, how old-fashioned of them.”
“Why would they require anything that is more complicated? They would not expect any of their own people to steal it, and presumably they did not think that any intruder would get this far without detection.”
“Hah.”
“Do you not see my meaning, Ruanek? The real guard, of course, is simply the Watraii climate.”
“Right. Only those who have to be out, like those guards, or the completely crazed, like us, would be standing out here, next to a metal building. And yes, that’s my Romulan background speaking, complete with emotion, not my Vulcan training. But now, how am I to get in there and get to the artifact?”
“Ruanek,” Data said slowly, “I believe that I have an idea. We should be able to use a substitute weight to replace the artifact on the pedestal.”
Nodding, Ruanek said, “Weight and counterweight—yes, the counterweight part should be simple enough. There are plenty of rocks of all sizes and weights. As for the way to get me safely in and out of the vault…” Ruanek rummaged about in his pack, then said, “Aha,” and pulled out a length of thin wire. “I think this is about five meters’ worth. How about you? Do you have anything else we can use?”
“I have some wire, too, precisely 9.25 meters in length. Permit me to perform some calculations.” Data was silent for a moment, clearly calculating the height of the building, the height of the table on which the artifact lay, and the length of the wire. “Excellent. We have enough wire, and the wire that we have is sufficiently strong for our purposes. And I certainly can safely support your weight while you go after the artifact.”
“Now, the only question is, how do I…?” Ruanek frowned thoughtfully and drew out a small emergency light from his pack. “With all those security devices, there has to be something I can use.”
He shone the little light around the dark vault. No, nothing but seamless walls. He shone it up toward the top of the vault—
“Oh yes,” Ruanek said. “That’s just what I need. Data, see those pipes? Think they’re strong enough to hold my weight?”
“I cannot do any accurate calculations under the circumstances,” Data began, “but I would estimate that if they are as firmly anchored as they seem, then yes, they should be sufficient. But I fail to see how you could get up there.”
Ruanek’s sudden grin was purely Romulan. “With your help, Data, with your help. Tell me, how’s your aim?”
Ruanek clung to the pipe with one leg and one arm, trying not to drop the stone that should—he hoped—be enough to counterbalance the artifact’s weight. Data’s aim had been perfect. As soon as Ruanek had stepped into Data’s clasped hands, the android had catapulted him straight and true right up here. Data, in the doorway, was still holding fast to one end of the wire, and Ruanek began winding the other about his waist, carefully padding it with folds of his clothing so that the wire wouldn’t cut him in two.
And let’s try not to think about the fact that you’re now a living lightning rod within a building that’s also a lightning rod.
He tugged once on the wire, testing. Data tugged back: yes, all was well.
All right, here we go.
He tugged twice on the wire and let go of the pipe. The wire caught him about the waist, and Ruanek grunted, twisting about to lock his crossed legs about the wire, too, to ease the strain. Now he was hanging upside down, which wasn’t exactly comfortable, but bearable.
Data be
gan to play the wire out slowly, and Ruanek began descending slowly toward the artifact. So far, yes…As long as he didn’t move too suddenly, the wire shouldn’t start swinging…
I never was meant to be a thief.
A little farther…Ruanek tugged once on the wire, and Data instantly stopped.
No. He couldn’t quite reach the artifact. Just a touch more…Ruanek tugged once more, waited half a beat, then tugged again. Data began feeding out the wire again, and Ruanek began to lower—
Too low! Ruanek curled frantically up about the wire, trying not to let any of himself come in contact with the floor or the crisscrossing red maze of laser beams.
I really wasn’t meant to be a thief.
Somehow he managed to give a tug to the wire, and Data pulled up again. Let’s try that again.
One very delicate tug; two very delicate tugs…
Sure enough, this time Data released just the smallest amount of wire, then stopped again.
Perfect!
Hanging upside down once more, trying not to think about not being as young as he should be for this sort of thing, Ruanek delicately reached out for the artifact. If he hit it too hard, he might knock it over or set himself swinging into one of the electrified walls or the damned laser beams.
He touched it. Missed. Bit his lip as the motion started him swinging. The cursed wire was cutting off his wind, but he had to wait till the movement stopped.
He reached out again, delicately, delicately…
Yes. He had the artifact, and the rock in the other hand.
One…two…three!
It worked! I made the switch! I have the artifact, and the rock’s the right weight.
He twisted about in midair and tugged on the wire. Data began to pull him back up again, and Ruanek began to believe that they really were going to get away with this, they really were going to get away with this and—
Just then, lightning cracked down, racing down the metal sides of the building. Ruanek frantically unwound himself from the wire even as he felt the first blaze of fire begin to shock itself along his nerves, and hurled himself blindly toward where the door must be. If he missed, he was dead; if he hit the floor, he was dead; dead either way and it really didn’t matter which way—
Vulcan's Soul Book II Page 26