by Diane Carey
Archer led Hoshi through a forbidding trade complex much more desolate and eerie than the central cluster. Deep grinding noises from the power generators far below echoed through damp floors that creaked under their feet. He kept Hoshi close behind him as they skimmed past rows of burping geothermic ducts that constantly vented violent shots of steam.
And they were completely alone.
“Isn’t an ‘enclave’ supposed to have people?” Hoshi nervously asked.
“ ‘Enclave’ can mean a lot of things,” Archer comforted, but he kept his eyes open. The place looked empty, but that also could mean a lot of things.
“T’Pol said something about ‘live’ food,” Hoshi went on, quite spooked. “I don’t see any restaurants… .”
Archer started to answer, but drew up short instead as a flicker of movement caught his eye in the industrial distance. Klingons!
“Excuse me!” he shouted. “Hello! Excuse me!”
The Klingons moved away from them.
“Hoshi!” he snapped.
She flinched, then shouted, “Ha’quj jeg!”
But there was only silence. The movement stopped. The shadows sagged back to stillness.
“They looked Klingon to me,” she said, suddenly breathless and completely jittery.
Archer grunted a dissatisfied response and snapped up his communicator. “Archer to T’Pol.” After a moment, when no answer came, he repeated, “T’Pol, come in.”
Anxiety rose as no answer came. Hoshi shivered at his side. “Maybe we should get back to where there are more people… .”
“There are plenty of people right here.”
He drew his plasma pistol. The movement frightened her.
“Stay behind me,” he warned.
They moved into the deep purpose shadows along the path leading to where the Klingons had disappeared. Above, a spiderweb of age-old metal drums, bridges, archways, and tubes threaded the darkness. Steam billowed from the geothermal ducts, obscuring every step before they took it.
There was someone here. He felt the shifting gazes of the shadows and pounding machinery. Silence would be better than this constant grinding and drumming.
They passed too close to a geothermal duct just as it blew its top. A mushroom of gray-white steam burped from the depths and separated Archer from Hoshi for a critical instant.
He glanced behind, but she was lost in steam.
A piece of a shadow burst toward him—Hoshi’s hand flashed in the cloud and she screamed, only steps from Archer, but though he reached out, she slipped away.
He whirled full about and took aim—what could he do? Shoot her?
In that instant of hesitation, he was attacked from two sides by a now-familiar dappled team who moved like insects. Suliban!
His pistol flew from his hand at a single blow. His fingers went numb, and he stumbled. He lashed out with the other fist and landed a solid strike on a surface that collapsed—a lung or stomach—and seconds turned into punches. One of the attackers fell back.
The other, though, made use of his partner as a distraction. Archer spun to keep fighting, but his arms were yanked behind him so violently that he gasped with pain and arched his back. In the steam, Hoshi cried out again. At least she was alive!
Frantic, he let out a kick, but failed to connect. His hip twisted. A shot of pain rushed up his side. His attackers took the advantage. With a single gasp of protest, Jonathan Archer was dragged into the dark depths as if swallowed by a giant burrowing animal.
CHAPTER 10
A STEAMY MAZE … VERTICAL, DIAGONAL, HORIZONTALtubes, bridges …
Archer fought to stay conscious. One of the Suliban must’ve landed a blow on his head or neck. He strained to see Hoshi. She was behind him, but no longer safe there.
They had succeeded in making their presence known, whether that would turn out to be good or bad. Rather than finding someone, they had succeeded in being found. He took that as progress.
They were being pushed right along at a daunting pace for his aching thigh. He forced his leg to keep moving. Couldn’t let it freeze up on him. Might have to run.
One of the two Suliban who pushed them along had his plasma pistol. He caught glimpses of it, just enough to tempt him every few seconds. He wanted the weapon back, and pummeled himself mentally for losing it to them. He had handed his enemy an advantage. Rule number one broken.
Sweat drained down his face. The surroundings were getting hotter and steamier, though the Suliban didn’t seem affected at all—
What was that? An energy field?
Archer blinked as a fizzing light half blinded him. He fought to adjust.
T’Pol! And Trip—in a box of some kind, with a force field locking them in. Like Hoshi, alive. Now that he knew for sure they were being stalked, Archer got a burst of relief at seeing them. Where were Reed and Mayweather?
He winced as the Suliban operatives yanked him to a stop. Hoshi bumped his right arm. One of the Suliban worked a handheld device that caused the energy field to snap down. Then that same Suliban reached for Hoshi.
Archer tried to get between them, but there was no fighting the strength of the individual who had him by both arms behind his back. This one had figured out that Archer’s leg was hurt and he could be held off balance.
As the Suliban with the device pulled Hoshi inside the chamber and left her with T’Pol and Tucker, Archer noticed that these two weren’t dressed the same as the two who had infiltrated the Enterprise. Of course, that didn’t mean they weren’t the same two. He couldn’t tell from their mottled faces, or make out any individuality at all.
Archer waited to be put inside. Instead, the Suliban stepped out and raised the electrical shield again. From inside, Tucker stepped forward toward Archer, but there was no hope to break through the force field. T’Pol gave him no such concern. Instead, she seemed to be saying with her eyes I told you so.
Angry and aching, Archer let himself be led away without further struggle. He sensed a chance for answers now, if not the ones he wanted.
What would be done with his crew? Would they be interrogated? Pressured?
The Suliban pulled him down a conduit to some steps, then down the steps. He had to duck twice, bumped his head once on something he never saw, and was drawn through three locked doors and a small hatch. Thoroughly disoriented by the time they stopped, Archer found himself in a chamber with beds, computers, piles of clothing, tables and chairs, and clutter.
He looked around critically and got an idea about this place. He knew a secret subversive base when he saw one. Were the Suliban dissidents? Against whom?
Or more pointedly, were these Suliban dissidents?
The two Suliban finally let him have his arms back. Without a word or gesture, they turned and left him alone in this chamber—which probably meant there was no easy way out. Judging from the way they came in, he might be lost down here for weeks before he found his way to the surface.
“You’re looking for Klaang,” a female voice said in perfect English. “Why?”
Archer turned, looked. Neither of the Suliban had come back or spoken. Who had?
“Who the hell are you?” he demanded coldly.
The shadows behind a stack of boxes shifted. A woman stepped out. Strikingly lovely and definitely human, the woman strode toward him, studying him as she came.
“My name is Sarin. Tell me about the people who took Klaang off your ship.”
“I was hoping you could tell me,” Archer reversed. “They looked a lot like your friends outside.”
She stepped toward him. “Where were you taking him?”
“How come you don’t look like your friends?” he asked, instead of giving her anything.
She was uncomfortably close now. “Would you prefer I did?” she asked in a sultry tone.
Oh, brother. This dame had seen too many steamy movies. She had the sticky dialogue down pat, not to mention the unoriginal seductive stare and liquid lips. What did they take him for?
Stick to business.
“What I’d prefer,” he attempted again, “is that you give me Klaang back.”
“So you could take him where?”
“Home. We were just taking him home.”
Sarin was now inches away. Less. She seemed to be gauging him. He was returning the favor.
“You’d better be careful,” Archer murmured. “I’m a lot bigger than you are.”
She moved until they were very close and her breath brushed his cheek. “If you’re thinking of harming me, I’d advise against it.”
She ran her hand along his jawline.
“What’re you doing?” he asked, as if he didn’t know.
“Why were you taking Klaang home?”
“Y’know,” he said instead, “under different circumstances, I might be flattered by this, but …”
Sarin came up on her toes and pressed her lips to his, forcefully and with purpose. Archer coolly accepted what was happening and bothered to relax enough that she might get discouraged sooner. With his ship on the line and his crew in a cage, he didn’t much care how seductive she wanted to playact.
She got whatever she wanted—or didn’t—and stepped back rather abruptly. Her face began to melt.
A moment later, she was Suliban. Archer grimaced in disgust.
“That’s never happened before,” he offered.
“I’ve been given the ability to measure trust,” she said, “but it requires close contact.”
Maybe next time they could just shake hands. He tried to imagine her smooching T’Pol, and shook that image away before it took hold.
“You’re Suliban,” he said, giving her a pretense of the shock she was probably going for.
“I was a member of the Cabal,” Sarin said, “but not anymore. The price of evolution is too high.”
“Evolution?”
Carefully, she moved away, no longer meeting his eyes. “Some of my people are so anxious to ‘improve’ themselves that they’ve lost perspective.”
“So you know I’m not lying to you,” Archer vectored back to the point. “Now what?”
“Klaang was carrying a message to his people.”
“How do you know that?”
“I gave it to him.”
“What kind of message?”
“The Suliban have been staging attacks within the Klingon Empire,” she told him. “Making it appear that one faction is attacking another. Klaang was bringing proof of this to his High Council. Without that proof, the Empire could be thrown into chaos.”
“Why would the Suliban want that?” Archer asked, following her and keeping her from turning away. He knew guilt when he saw it, and was determined to get answers before she changed her mind or had an attack of regret.
“The Cabal doesn’t make decisions on its own,” she went on, more anxious to tell him things. “They’re simply soldiers fighting a temporal cold war.”
“Temporal? You’ve lost me.”
“They’re taking orders from the distant future.”
The announcement stopped Archer in his tracks. He ended up leaning on his bad leg, enduring shots of pain through his hip, but the strange concept held him still. “What?”
In his periphery he saw a movement on the ceiling and flinched. Only a shot of steam from a crack.
Temporal cold war …
Sarin turned fully to face him, now firm with conviction. If she had harbored any doubts, they were gone.
“We can help you find Klaang,” she said quickly. “But we don’t have a starship. You’ll have to take us with you!”
A blinding flash of blue light discharged between them. A computer station at Archer’s elbow exploded into shards and drove him sideways. He reached for Sarin and pulled her out of the blast area.
Another weapon blast struck even closer. Two Suliban skittered across the ceiling, firing weapons at them!
It didn’t take a genius to understand that the secret base had been breached and these weren’t the same two Suliban who had brought him here.
Sarin’s Suliban came streaking in from a doorway, firing as they ran, but the other Suliban seemed to have physical advantages. They skimmed the walls and ceiling like insects.
All hell broke loose. Archer dragged Sarin toward the way they’d come in, assuming she would have the sense to lead him out through those tubes—
“Get us out!” Archer choked.
In fact, she had a shortcut. Five seconds later, they were out in the main access level, being sprayed by geothermals and burned by the fritzing electrical screen that blocked off the Enterprise landing party. Behind them, the battle raged—Suliban against Suliban.
One of Sarin’s operatives fell dead just inches behind Archer, while the other exchanged hand-weapon fire with the two attackers. Sarin raised a weapon now that Archer hadn’t even known she possessed, and began returning fire, blocking blast after blast that might’ve taken Archer’s head off.
Sarin’s other operative followed them out, rushing frantically along a bridge, firing as he went. He blasted one of the two attackers, but was caught in crossfire and killed by the second invader.
That left Archer and Sarin on their own—and Archer had no weapon! His team was armed, but they couldn’t get through the force field. He had to break that force field!
The Suliban attacker, the remaining one, had the same idea. He drove Archer and Sarin into hiding with his wild firing, then opened on the force field with the Enterprise crewmen behind it. They dove for cover, but there wasn’t any. All they could do was crouch with each other as the field disrupted in blinding displays of free energy.
At Archer’s side, Sarin took the initiative and stood clear. She fired openly at the attacker’s body and blew him off his feet. With that window of opportunity, she rushed to the control panel of the force field and worked it with some kind of code.
The field fell! The crew flooded out, Tucker first. T’Pol pushed Hoshi before her.
Sarin yanked open a panel that turned out to be a locker. She started handing the crew their plasma pistols!
Archer briefly connected with Tucker—just a reassuring glance—and they were off running.
“Where is your vessel?” Sarin asked.
“On the roof! Docking port three!”
“Captain!” Hoshi cried, and pointed at the underside of a diagonal conduit high over the ground. Two more Suliban, defying gravity, crawled along the pipe!
“This way!” Sarin called.
As she led them in a completely confusing direction, one of the Suliban dropped and landed only a pace from Archer.
He lashed out, and the Suliban sprang out of reach and out of sight with a heightened agility that startled even Sarin.
But here were two more Suliban—dressed like Sarin’s associates. On our side? Yes! They were firing at the other Suliban!
How many people were in Sarin’s subversive splinter group? Right now Archer wanted dozens, hundreds.
Flashes of weapons fire illuminated the distance. The Starfleet team plowed forward after Sarin, ducking and running, navigating the wild jungle of pipes and buttresses.
Sarin reached a massive vertical tube, hit a control, and opened a hatch that Archer was relieved to see, because there was no way to climb this monolith. A large pipe opened before them. Inside was a circular platform a few feet above the deck. Archer spun to pile Hoshi into the hole while Tucker acted as rearguard.
What about Reed and Mayweather?
He reached for T’Pol.
Weapons fire streaked in from hundreds of feet away.
“Trip!” Archer called, and shoved the engineer onto the platform, then piled in after him. Under them, the platform began to rumble and shift with the rush of thermal energy. Sarin was doing something with a control box. Was this an elevator?
“Come on!” Archer waved, but his voice was snatched away by a thermal rush.
Sarin moved toward the platform. She reached out to climb aboard. A blast struck h
er square in the back.
A Suliban stood across the area, his weapon trained on her. He fired again just as his eyes met Archer’s.
Sarin fell hard. The points of impact on her back glowed and sizzled as they burned their way through her writhing body.
Archer launched off the platform, followed by Tucker. Tucker provided covering fire and drove the Suliban back while Archer knelt at Sarin’s side.
The Suliban took cover behind an outcropping of twisted pipes, but he was more persistent than the others and didn’t run. Archer’s mind flashed on his moment of contact with the single Suliban, and he recognized something in this individual’s eyes, his manner, his drive. Unlike the others, who had ducked and hidden with more relish than they had fought, this one had a stake in whatever was happening.
Archer glanced over again and memorized the patterns of dappling on this Suliban’s face.
But beneath his hands, the female Suliban was dying.
“Find Klaang,” Sarin murmured raggedly.
Mercifully, she lost consciousness as the wounds in her body continued to glow, burn, and grow, eating her from the inside out.
“Trip!” Archer bolted to his feet. He hoped it would be quick for Sarin. He could give her no more now.
He motioned for Tucker, and together they jumped back onto the trembling platform. Archer slid the hatch shut.
The moment he did that, the platform blasted upward through the shaft, driving them to their knees, propelled by a rolling pillar of steam.
In seconds the hot steam was blown away by an arctic blast. Archer forced his eyes open and saw snow blanketing the landing dock. They’d made it!
The platform shot up and stopped a full two feet over the dock. The Starfleet team was thrown into a pile, but alive. Steam blasted out in all directions under them, billowing into the frozen air.
Still covered with sweat, Archer pulled his team into the frigid snow. “Let’s go!” he called over the whine of wind and blowing ice.
“Where’s the pod?” Hoshi called.
“Over here!” Tucker waved and pointed.
T’Pol, though, called louder over the wind and pointed in a different direction. “No, this way!”