The Face of the Unknown

by Christopher L. Bennett

  So let them rise, then, he told himself. Scott turned forward, taking a deep, cleansing breath and releasing it. “Lieutenant Rahda,” he said, “take us into space.”

  * * *

  “So you’re finally forced to admit we were right!” Ne-Kewii declared smugly from the comm screen, on which she appeared adjacent to David Bailey.

  “We admit no such thing,” Triumvir Tirak told the Fiilestii dissident. “The bombardment is creating the instability.”

  “Even now you try to cover the truth! Captain Kirk, you can’t seriously expect us to reveal the location of the remaining remote devices to these—”

  “Quiet, both of you!” Kirk cried. “Like a friend of mine said,” he went on, nodding at Aranow, “we’ve got no time for political posturing. We’re all in the same sinking ship.”

  “Kirk’s right, Ne-Kewii,” Bailey said, stepping forward. “This is the Web’s only shot now. All of us together, like it should’ve been all along.” The young ambassador turned his gaze firmly on Tirak. “But we need everyone, sir. You have to release Balok from prison. We’ll need his ­expertise—and the dissidents will need the gesture of good faith. Ne-Kewii’s not the only one who’ll be suspicious.”

  “Haven’t you heard?” Tirak asked. “Balok escaped with Kirk and Spock.”

  “No, he didn’t,” Kirk said. “Someone from the prison substituted a mechanical decoy for him. What we rescued was a puppet. Presumably to hide the real Balok’s transfer to a secret location.”

  “Preposterous! Even now you spin lies to discredit this administration!”

  “He speaks the truth, Triumvir,” Nisu said, her tone making it clear that she did not expect the news to surprise Tirak. “My people have confirmed the decoy’s presence in the escape craft. And I, for one, was not informed of any substitution—even though the prison operates under my authority. Only you, Triumvir Tirak, can supersede that authority.”

  Tirak relented under the scrutiny of Nisu and his fellow triumvirs. “Very well. Balok has been securely transferred to an undisclosed facility. He may be in possession of classified data of the highest sensitivity. It was necessary to . . . investigate the matter under the most extreme security.”

  “Coward! Liar!” Ne-Kewii cried. “How do we know Balok is even still alive?”

  Kirk was about to intercede, but Bailey beat him to it. “Listen to me, both of you. I care about Balok as much as anyone. He’s my friend, my mentor. So I’m afraid for him too. But there are bigger things at stake. Balok helped teach me—in his own way—how to control my fear, rather than letting it control me. And that’s what we all need right now. Let’s focus our fear where it really matters. The rest can come later.”

  Tirak’s jaw tightened. For a moment, Kirk was afraid he’d misjudged the triumvir’s willingness to kill a fellow Linnik. But then Tirak relented. “Very well. I will order Balok’s release.”

  If anything, he’d given in too easily, and that gave Kirk cause for concern. “Mister Bailey,” he said, “I recommend you oversee Balok’s release and escort personally. You have the dissidents’ trust, and it wouldn’t hurt for Balok to see a friendly face.”

  “Aye, sir,” Bailey said, his eyes thanking the captain.

  Kasan Tor lumbered into view on the screen. “For the same reason, Kirk, I’d prefer you send one of your people to coordinate with us. So there won’t be any trust issues.”

  Kirk turned to his helmsman. “Sulu, you’ve worked closely with them. Go.”

  “Aye, sir.” He got coordinates from Kasan and headed off.

  Spock addressed Uhura. “Lieutenant, I shall need you here, supervising the teams. This operation will require precise coordination and timing.”

  She nodded. “Aye, sir.”

  “Nisu,” Kirk went on. “Have one of your people take McCoy to that hospital where our people are being held. Bones, get them all up and running, even Koust. We need every hand.”

  “Right, Jim.”

  Kirk clapped the doctor on the shoulder, then turned back to Nisu. “The remotes you’re storing as evidence. Take me to them.”

  The Kisaja threw a glance at the triumvirs, then looked back to Kirk. “Come.”

  “Jim.” Aranow moved closer, clasping his hands briefly. Her tail trembled. “Our worlds are in your hands.”

  “Wonderful. No pressure.” Impulsively, he kissed her. He kept it quick, but figured a Tessegri would like it that way. Aranow blushed purple, but she was smiling. With a grin and a wink, Kirk broke into a run after Nisu.

  She led him out of the central tower and across a skywalk to the security section. Powerful winds struck them as they hit the open air, forceful enough to blow them sideways. Kirk flailed out and grabbed the windward railing, catching Nisu with his other hand. She pulled herself to the railing, and they both held on as they strove forward.

  Kirk looked out over the rail and beheld a terrifying sight. An immense tsunami, maybe a hundred meters high, was surging toward the cliffs below them. They were well above it, but still he felt an instinctive need to move faster, to escape before it hit.

  “The charge that detonated outside!” Nisu cried. “It must have triggered a shock wave!” Given the enormous scale of this world module, Kirk realized, it must have taken this long to reach the government center.

  Kirk’s instinct to run proved justified. When the tsunami crashed into the cliffs below, the whole island trembled. It struck Kirk that the geology of this artificial world might be artificially light, even hollow; it couldn’t absorb the impact of that great mass of water as well as the real thing.

  The quake continued, and to add insult to injury, the skywalk and its occupants were struck by a mighty gust of hot wind as the air pushed ahead of the tsunami was forced up the side of the cliff at enormous speed, heated by its compression. Kirk lost his footing as the skywalk began to buck and twist beneath him. Nisu’s slender frame took the worst of it, and Kirk lunged forward to catch her before she fell, saving her from cracking her head open on the railing. “Stay down!” he yelled as the wind continued to roar past, spattering them with droplets of moisture and pebbles and grit torn from the cliff face. They made their way forward as quickly as they could on all fours. Kirk reflexively tried to shield her with his body, but she would have none of it.

  But as the skywalk continued to twist and groan, Kirk could see it beginning to break loose on the far side. He and Nisu had no choice but to straighten up and run as fast as they could. As they neared the doorway at the far end, one of Nisu’s protectors, the big armored one, trod forth to assist them.

  Just then, though, the skywalk heaved up beneath them like a wave, a crack forming in its arched surface before them. “Go!” Kirk shoved Nisu forward over the hump and into the arms of her teammate—at the cost of losing his balance and falling back. He struggled to regain his footing before the crack grew too wide to jump over.

  But then a pair of strong arms wrapped around him from behind, and suddenly he was airborne, soaring in an impossibly wide arc over the gap. He stumbled on the landing but his rescuer held him up and carried him forward into the tower, Nisu and her colleague following right behind. They skidded to a stop just short of the far wall. Kirk spun to watch the bridge tearing free and collapsing into the chasm.

  Panting, he turned to face his rescuer. His eyes widened at the sight of Aranow’s bright-eyed, blue-skinned face. “You,” he managed. “That was . . . how . . . ?”

  She shrugged. “Strong legs and a tail. You flat-butts have no balance. Figured I could help.”

  “Triumvir,” Nisu said, “you shouldn’t be in harm’s way.”

  “Everywhere’s harm’s way now. Like Spock said. I couldn’t just sit around,” she went on, turning back to Jim. “I have to move. Have to help.”

  He turned to face her, clasping her shoulders, and smiled. “Well, I’m very grateful that you did
.”

  Aranow’s eyes widened. “Oh! And I had to do this.” She cuffed him on the side of his head.

  “Oww!” He stared at her.

  “For kissing a triumvir in the situation room,” she proclaimed, though her smirk belied her affronted tone. “Most inappropriate.”

  “Understood,” Kirk said, rubbing the side of his head. “It won’t happen again.”

  But Aranow didn’t let the moment linger. “Come on!” she cried, grabbing Nisu’s arm and pulling her forward. “No time for gabbing! Let’s get those remotes!”

  “Triumvir,” Nisu said, “the other way.”

  “Right.” Aranow reversed direction without missing a beat, pulling Nisu past Kirk with a gust of air. He followed in their slipstream, grinning.

  * * *

  “The remotes are being distributed,” Uhura reported. “Teams are on their way.”

  “Excellent,” Spock replied. “Status of the captain?”

  “His team is taking the Tessegri world module.”

  “Understood.”

  Spock was somewhat relieved to know that Kirk was away from the Syletir module. The whole megastructure was beginning to sway as an aftereffect of the shock wave and tsunami; the displacement of that much water had unbalanced the module, and the strain on the Web-wide antigrav network was making it difficult to compensate. The floor was already beginning to slant beneath their feet, and Spock was less than sanguine about being in a tower atop a cliff under these circumstances. Triumvir Lekur was supervising the efforts of his engineering teams to stabilize the module, but they were visibly struggling.

  Spock held Uhura’s eyes, speaking softly. “Advise Captain Kirk and his team to establish an alternate command post at their location. They may need to take over coordination of the network should we be unable to do so from here.”

  She allowed her fear to show only for an instant. He regretted requiring the lieutenant to be here with him; he could have sent her to an evacuation ship, something that could hover in the atmosphere and survive if the Web were to collapse. But he knew it was an illogical thought. Such a small craft would be at risk from the storms and would have no safe harbor unless the Enterprise prevailed over the Dassik—an unlikely prospect under the circumstances. The Enterprise was depending on the success of this operation as much as everyone else. And the odds of that success were materially greater with Nyota Uhura coordinating the operation.

  Recognizing this, the lieutenant gathered herself. “Aye, sir.” Uhura paused before turning away. “And thank you,” she said softly. He raised an inquiring brow, and she continued. “For your calm. Your logic. I draw strength from it, sir.”

  He responded with only a wordless nod. She smiled briefly before returning to her duty, her manner brisk, professional, and Vulcan-calm. Not for the first time, Spock was reminded of how much respect he had for this woman—a respect that had made him willing to indulge her emotional expressions more readily than those of her peers, even when she teased him, flirted with him, or sang marginally ribald songs about him in the recreation room. He occasionally wondered if her flirtations were in earnest, and if, absent the obstacles of rank and discipline, that might not be such a bad thing.

  Before he could pursue the idea any further, Tirak approached him. “There must be something more we can do,” the Linnik said, wringing his hands.

  “The plan is proceeding apace, Triumvir. Everything that can be done is being done.”

  “By you, by the dissidents. This is our home. We are the protectors of the First. We are the ones who should be taking action. Perhaps . . . we should try speaking to the Dassik. Engaging with them directly.”

  Spock was surprised that this man, who had lived his whole life defending his people’s commitment to secrecy and concealment, could propose revealing himself to an enemy. It was an encouraging sign of growth. So it was with some regret that he replied, “Under current atmospheric conditions, Triumvir, it would be virtually impossible to send a clear signal. Even if we could expend the resources to devise a relay, I am confident that Force Leader Grun would accept nothing less than your complete surrender and subjugation.”

  Lekur looked up from where he worked. “Never. We built the Web to be free. We’d rather burn.”

  Tirak nodded in affirmation. “Of course. That is not what I propose. My thought was that we could merely give the appearance of surrender. In order to stall the enemy while we prepare the weapon.”

  Not a sign of growth after all, then, Spock thought. “Such an act would contravene all civilized rules of war, Triumvir. After such a precedent, no subsequent surrender in any future conflict would be trusted or accepted.”

  “Civilized war, huh?” said Lekur. “Who knew?”

  “All things are relative,” Spock replied dryly.

  * * *

  The staff at Tirak’s “undisclosed facility” had resisted releasing Balok at first. Fortunately, the large Niatoko protector that Nisu had sent to assist Bailey had done his job, making it clear that this was a directive of the Council requiring immediate compliance.

  When Bailey and the protector reached Balok’s cell, they found the Fesarius captain transfixed in the gaze of a narrow-featured, green-eyed Kisaja woman with bronze head fur. “Vulo!” the reptilian protector demanded. “Stop what you’re doing! This prisoner is to be released at once!”

  The woman, Vulo, released Balok from her gaze to face the protector. Balok slumped and gasped for breath, and Bailey ran to him while Vulo said, “No problem, Protector. Just making sure he was ready for release.”

  Bailey cradled his friend’s small, bald head in his hands. “Balok! Are you okay?” The captain’s eyes wandered, failing to focus on Bailey or anything else. He had never looked so much like an infant.

  Whirling to face Vulo, Bailey demanded, “What did you do to him?”

  “I only cured him of the lies you outsiders would have had him spew to discredit the Council,” the Kisaja said.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It doesn’t matter. He’ll remember none of it now. Just take him and go.”

  A tremor hit the module, as if to reinforce the value of her suggestion—although the venomous look she gave Bailey suggested that she blamed him for the disruptions to the Web. He quickly glanced away before he could feel more than the faintest trace of the effects of an angry Kisaja stare.

  Instead, he focused on the Fesarius captain again. “Balok! Come on, it’s me, Bailey. Dave Bailey! You know me, right?”

  “Bai . . . ley?”

  The human grinned. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m here. We’re together, just like all those times on the Fesarius. You remember? All those word games we played? Those weird mythology videos you liked to show me, the ones that left me so confused?” He laughed, realizing that humor was a likely way to connect with Balok. “You look as dazed as I did. Remember?”

  Balok was frowning now, trying to concentrate. Another rumble shook the cell, and the floor swayed beneath them. Balok’s mind was still elsewhere, though. “Fesarius.”

  “That’s right, Balok! The Fesarius. Your ship. You love that ship so much. And I know your crew wants you to get back to them as soon as you can.”

  “My . . . ship. The Fesarius.” Balok jerked awake as if slapped. Eyes finally locking on Bailey, he beamed and let out a raucous laugh. “Ahh, David, my friend! You said just the right thing!”

  Bailey laughed in return, but it was to hide his relief. “Well, I am an ambassador.”

  “For once, I think I actually believe that,” Balok teased back. As the floor lurched and groaned beneath them again, he hopped to his feet with surprising spryness. “Well, what are we waiting for? You seemed pretty keen on leaving a moment ago. You want to stay here, slowpoke?”

  Shaking his head in amusement, Bailey followed the lively commander out the door. But he noticed that V
ulo was staring at the revived Balok with some disbelief. Once he caught up to the determined Linnik, he muttered, “What was that Kisaja doing to you? She seems surprised that you remember your own name.”

  Balok chuckled. “As I said, my friend, you knew exactly the right thing to say. I’ll be happy to explain later.” The floor shook again. “But I think there are more pressing matters you need to fill me in on first, don’t you?”

  The lieutenant hastened to fill Balok in as they hurried down the corridor. It surprised Bailey how swiftly those little legs could carry Balok when he was sufficiently motivated. “And the Enterprise has left the atmosphere?” the Linnik captain finally asked.

  “Last I heard, yes. They’re going to try to deal with the Dassik by themselves.”

  “Against those cluster ships?” Balok shook his head. “They’ll be outmatched. We have to get out there and help.”

  “In what? Your ships aren’t built for that sort of thing. Except an orbship, and I doubt the Council would trust you with one of those even now.”

  “I already have one, my young friend. If I know my crew, they’ve figured out by now that I came here. The Fesarius is bound to be on the outskirts of the system, watching for some opportunity to act. But I doubt they’d have it in them to do something bold without me there to browbeat them into it. So we need to get to my pilot vessel and into space. I’m sure the Enterprise will keep the Linnik distracted long enough to let us slip past.”

  “Can your pilot vessel handle Cherela’s weather? It’s not all that aerodynamic.”

  “At the speed I’ll be taking off, that will hardly matter. Now get moving!”