Strangers from the Sky
Page 29
actually doing this from a two-hundred-year-old
computer terminal?"
"Affirmative. his
"The man is amazing!" Mitchell marveled.
"Yeah, but listen, old buddy, there's just one thing:
I don't
255
STRANGERS FROM THE SKY
want to complain, but from the sound of things you've got
a little tinfoil in the radar here . . ."
"Stand by, Mitch, I'm not reading you . . ."
Kelso replied, tongue-in-cheek, stripping the
static out. "Say again?"
"Never mind!" Mitchell's laughter was clear as
a bell this time. "Listen, I'm due to check in with
Jim in a few minutes. Anything you want me
to tell him?"
"Save you the trouble," Kelso said, tapping in
another frequency code. "Let me see if I
can rig a conference call." Within moments he had tied
in not only Kirk but Elizabeth Dehner as
well.
"How long can you keep the four-way open?"
Kirk wanted to know, as amazed at Kelso as
Mitchell had been.
"As long as I don't get caught," Kelso
said.
"Good. We'll need it," Kirk said tersely.
Kelso knew what he could do and didn't need to be
stroked. "Gary, what have you got?"
"Think I've narrowed it to one ship, Jim.
She's the CSS Delphinus,
classified as an SCC-MULTIUSE, meaning
"Sub/carry-Cruiser." She can go over or
under at up to twenty knots, level a city, set
up as a floating laboratory, carries enough cargo
to feed a family of four for a hundred years . .
."
"Sort of a water-borne Enterprise," Kirk
said wi/lly, wondering if her captain was anything
like a starship's. "I've studied those old
multi-use vessels. Incredible machines!"
"Exactly," Mitchell said. "And according to my
info, Delphinus was diverted from her regular route
around the agrostations, ostensibly to pick up a
satellite, and has been on radio silence for
four days."
"Sounds like she's the one," Kirk said
hopefully. "Lee, can you tap a ship at that
distance?"
"Sure, if Mitch could just get me some call
numbers . . ."
"Have "em in my back pocket, son." 256
STRANGERS FROM THE SKY
Kirk left them to themselves and opened his channel
to Dehner. "How's it going, doctor?"
"Hanging in here, Captain. Catching
up on my reading. his
"How's that?"
"I've been reviewing all of the papers and
monographs my alter ego has written. Might
as well know what I'm talking about if anyone
asks me. Besides, I can't say much for the nightlife
around here."
"Hey, if you're looking for a little action, doe,"
Mitchell chimed in, "just you let me know. Nights
sure do get cold here in scenic downtown
Gdansk. Anything I can do for a change of scenery
. . ."
"Leave her alone, Mitch," Kelso griped;
he'd had to listen to the two of them bickering all
night on their flight out of Alexandria before they
changed planes in Central Europe. But
Dehner could take care of herself.
"Doesn't your celebrated charm work in
Polish, Mr. Mitchell? Or am I the only
game in town?"
"Captain said don't get involved with the native
women," Mitchell said. Kirk listened, let them
have their heads; he was blind they all
were but he could see their faces, watch their little
gestures, decided they needed the
interplay, however acrimonious, to take their minds
off the waiting, the uncertainty. "I'm just doing my
bit to make sure I don't end up as my own
great-grandfather. his
""Of ail the egotistical, irresponsible his
Kirk could see her tossing her silky hair in
her anger, her grey eyes flashing. But enough. He
cleared his throat.
"Ladies and gentlemen, as you were!" He let
the silence linger long enough for them to pull themselves up
to attention. "Now then. Mr. Mitchell, the minute
you see that ship so much as blink . . ."
"Got you, Captain. Mitchell out."
"Mr. Keiso?"
"Sir?"
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"Keep your ears on. If you can read
Delphinus, or the Command Center at Norfolk
or, better yet, both his
"Will do, sir."
"Also, check in with Parneb at regular
intervals. If anything goes wrong, if you're in
any kind of trouble, bail out and get back
to Egypt and stay put, understood?"
"Sure thing, Ji Captain. Last time I
talked to him he was still looking for Spock. And he
said nothing else about history was changed that he can
see. Who knows, maybe- was Kirk said nothing.
Kelso had the good grace to take the hint. "Ears
on, Captain. Kelso out."
"Doctor," Kirk said at last.
"I'm with you, Captain." She'd been listening
to the affection between this man and his old crew, wondered
if that was the secret to his command ability the
simple, deep caring for every individual under his command.
If that were the case, it must put him through hell every time
he lost one. Elizabeth Dehner realized how much
she had underestimated this man.
"All I can tell you is, hang on a while
longer," he was telling her. "When this thing starts
to move, you and I are going to be the front line."
Kirk could see her nod, though he couldn't see
her. "Understood, Captain."
Captain Nyere had given Yoshi permission
to tend his acreage while they waited. The young
agronomist was out at dawn daily, sometimes with a
member of Delphinus's crew along to help him
cut the infected kelp adrift and set it ablaze,
letting the tide carry it away from the
healthy weed until it had burned itself out and,
presumably, incinerated the kelpwilt with it.
It was a last-ditch effort, primitive and
unsanitary, polluting the water with ashy sediment, the
air with greasy, roiling smoke that could be seen from the
deck of the big ship all along the northern
perimeter of the
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agrostation. Yoshi returned at dusk,
bone-weary and covered with soot.
"You could help!" he accused Tatya on the
third such night, falling across the bunk they shared in
utter exhaustion.
Tatya soothed him absently, trying not to show her
revulsion at the filth on his clothes, the grimy,
smoky smell of him. Sorahl, when he permitted
her to get that close to him, smelled like new-mown
grass, or leaves in autumn, or
something she'd left behind on the mainland and had a
sudden nostalgia for.
"Jason would never let us both out at the same
time," she reasoned, though in truth she'd never
bothered to ask him. "And I don't dare leave the
; Vulcans. I trust Jason, but not
Command.
Someone has to keep watch. And I've been
helping Sorahl in the lab."
"Oh, I'll bet you have!"
Tatya was genuinely startled by his vehemence,
if not a little guilty. She and Yoshi had never
formalised their relationship, had never needed to.
They'd simply stayed together. Neither had ever been
jealous; there'd never been any reason. Before.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Tatya yelled, her anger edged with guilt and
consequently exaggerated. "Bozhe mod, you don't
think ?"
But Yoshi lay like a dead man, one long arm
flung across his eyes, instantly asleep. Tatya
left him alone and went to be with Sorahl.
"He is angry?" the young Vulcan asked, his
velvetdark eyes meeting Tatya's blue ones so
steadily she felt herself melting Also over. "I do
not understand."
"He's jealous!" Tatya said bluntly, taking
the used slides from him and popping them into the
steriliser, hoping their hands would touch. "He thinks
I'm in love with you."
The young Vulcan knew the word, knew
theoretical
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ly what it meant in human temms, but did not
understand its coexistence with jealousy.
"Are you?" he asked with such absolute naivete
that Tatya dropped several slides.
"Of course not!" she lied, retrieving them from the
floor and tossing her heavy braids back over her
shoulders. The fact that I fantasise about you
constantly, she thought waking, sleeping, alone or with
you, even when I'm making love with Yoshi has
nothing to do with anything!
"That is good," Sorahl said, without being able
to tell her any of the myriad Vulcan reasons why
this was so. "I owe Yoshi my life. I should not wish
him to be angry."
Yoshi soon had more than enough to make him angry.
"Who's going to look after my famm?" he demanded
when Jason told him they'd be under way for
Antarctica within the hour. He'd come straight in from
the burning dirtier than usual, his hands blistered,
his mood precarious. What Jason was telling him
made the past six days meaningless. "I couldn't
leave this close to harvest at the best of
times. Now, with the wilt gods, Jace, I could come
back and find the whole crop gone!"
"Can't be helped, son," Jason said. "I
thought we agreed the disposition of the Vulcans was of
primary importance? And I have my orders."
"Screw your orders!" Yoshi shouted,
completely out of character. He never shouted, never found
anything to make him that angry. He seemed to be
angry all the time now, and it frightened him.
Worse, after his argument with Tatya, what he'd
really wanted to say was "screw the Vulcans."
He, of all people, who a scant few days ago was
ready to do anything to protect them what was
happening to him? Yoshi found a place of calm.
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"At least let me call my contractors," he
asked. "They can get someone in to replace us, at
least continue the burning."
"I can't break radio silence; you know that,"
Jason said gently. Tatya, Sawyer, and now
Yoshi would be furious with him. It seemed only the
Vulcans understood what he was trying to do. "We
can't wait that long. I'm sorry!"
"You're sorry?" There were tears of
rage in Yoshi's eyes. "My crops, my farm,
my whole life and you say you're sorry? Who knows
how long they'll keep US down there, or what
they'll do to us? Who knows what's going to happen
to any of us, even you? Sorry doesn't do it
anymore, Jason!"
"I've been contacted, Captain!" Elizabeth
Dehner sounded almost excited. "Two faceless,
sexless characters buzzed their way into my flat at four
in the morning, with sealed orders from the United Earth
Council "requesting" I pack enough heavy clothing
for a week to ten days and report to the wingboat basin
in Lima. And to make sure I tell no one,
they've bugged my phone and there's a spook in an
unmarked car at the end of the street."
"You know what to do?" Kirk instinctively lowered
his voice, as if they could be overheard even with
communicators.
"I think so." Dehner's voice was as cool as
ever, but did he only imagine a slight tremor
at the ends of her words? "I'm to go along. Mingle
freely with the other medical personnel, do exactly
what's expected of me, and try to report in to you
at four-hour intervals."
"I'll follow you," Kirk promised.
"As soon as Mitch ell lets me know where." As
if on cue, his incoming beeped. "Good luck,
doctor. Kirk out."
He switched frequencies. "Gary?"
"Delphinus is moving out, Jim. Heading south
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southeast, making twelve to fifteen knots in the
general direction of the Ross Ice Shelf,
Antarctica. Last I heard from Kelso he was
going to have a tap on them by his next call-in."
"How long since you've talked to him?" Kirk
wanted to know.
"Little over four hours," Mitchell said. "He
said he might have to do some moving around. Some people
wondering why he was logging so much overtime."
It didn't sound good. Kelso was resourceful,
but not invincible. Not for the first time, Kirk regretted
the communicator in his hand.
"Gary," he said ruefully. "When you talk
to him, tell him to be careful. Dehner and I have
to be moving too. I want you to sit tight until
I give the word. If you get in a jam, like I
told Lee, get back to Parneb and wait for us.
Don't do
anything reckless."
"Who, me? Listen, kid, I'm not the one who's
heading for Antarctica. If you need me, just
holler, and I'll saddle up the sled dogs."
Kirk laughed in spite of the almost perpetual
knot in his stomach. "Are you ever serious?"
"Not if I can avoid it," Mitchell
admitted. "But I am now. Take care of yourself,
James. I'd never forgive myself if you didn't."
In a furnished "sleeptel" cubicle, the
twenty-first century's solution to the problem of cheap
residency hotels, overlooking the flat,
cookie-cutter scenery of the vast industrial
suburb that had once been a state called Ohio,
Howard "Studs" Carter a.k.a. Lee Kelso,
formerly of MediaMagix/hollywood, unpacked
his very own personal computer, purchased in Canton
that afternoon with one of Parneb's credit cards.
There'd been too many questions, too much heat at
MediaMagix, and Kelso had quietly skipped
town, setting up shop closer to the acres of
microwave 262
STRANGERS FROM THE SKY
receptors meandering across Middle America.
&nb
sp; With a few minor upgrading adjustments, the
little beauty at his elbow could be persuaded
to eavesdrop on the world.
Kelso tuned the screen to a news program
while he tinkered, with the volume so low it reached him
only subliminally, until one item in particular
almost made him drop his teeth.
"dis . . responding to an anonymous tip that what
was removed from the agrostation was actually the fusilage
of a space vessel which may have originated outside
the solar system, and which may or may not have contained
alien survivors. Spokespersons for
Aeroationav deny this
categorically, and the PentaKrem insists that any
connection between the incident and the mission to Alpha
Centauri . . . his
Omigod, omigod! Kelso thought, as close
to panic as he could come. It would take some more tinkering
to get this baby to contact Jim Kirk, but Parneb
could be reached by conventional
telephone link. Kelso was on the horn
to Parneb as fast as his fingers could fly.
"The reports are worse here!" the Egyptian
con- firmed morosely. "They are going so far as
to speculate that the aliens are being held at a
secret government installation, that they have at
least three heads and are reproducing by cloning even
as we speak. Ah, Lee, I am afraid even
your century's magicians cannot remedy my
mistakes now!"
"Don't let it get you down," Kelso consoled
him, though he was feeling less than optimistic
himself. "The more hysterical the rumors, the easier
they'll be to laugh at later."
"Unless someone is harmed by them!" Parneb
lamented. "In my experience, Lee, hysteria
does not sit at home and brood. It takes to the
streets in search of a scapegoat."
"There are ways we can plug the leaks." Kelso
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thinking aloud, eyeing his little computer. "If we could
find out who the hell started them in the first place . .
."
""Tis cold," Easter observed in his
lugubrious way. "Antarctica."
"Ja, so?" the other inquired in his clipped,
metallic tones. "You are afraid of a little
cold?"
Gray was Racher's color grey skin stretched
taut across a grey skull face, grey
close-cropped hair, grey gunmetal eyes that
glinted and clicked in their sockets rather than blinking
like normal eyes, grey metal-onmetal voice.
Legend had it Racher was more bionic than flesh, that