by Greg Cox
The bodyguard’s baleful glare made her uncomfortable, so she turned away and headed toward the nearest campfire. She wasn’t actually cold, but perhaps the smoke would discourage the cloud of gnat- and mosquito-like creatures enveloping her. She swatted uselessly at the airborne pests, while double-checking her computerized inventory lists one more time. Let’s see, the Enterprise left us about one dozen high-intensity plasma lights. Those should last at least twenty-five years or so. And we’ve got approximately 250 kilograms of silicon-based thermoconcrete. I wonder how many shelters you could build with that?
Intent upon her tricorder, she accidentally bumped into another woman from behind. The woman, an Amazonian female with dark skin and braided black hair, spun around angrily. “Watch where you’re going, you Starfleet slut!”
The sheer venom in the woman’s voice caught Marla by surprise. “I’m sorry,” she offered hastily. “I apologize.”
“For what?” the woman demanded. “For your clumsiness, or for double-crossing us back on the Enterprise?” In the heat of the night, the irate woman had discarded her standard-issue jumpsuit in favor of the lightweight, golden-mesh garment she had worn while sleeping in suspended animation aboard the Botany Bay; the sparkling metallic fibers clung to the sculpted contours of a powerfully muscled body. “Don’t think anyone has forgotten who released Kirk from the decompression chamber!”
Marla backed away, acutely aware that the other woman was a head taller than her and at least five times stronger. “I’m sorry!” she pleaded, not really expecting the woman to understand. “I had no choice. The captain was going to die!”
“So?” the Amazon said with a sneer. “He was just an insignificant human—like you.” She advanced on Marla, while harsh laughter and encouragement spilled from the bystanders around the campfire.
“You tell her, Zuleika!”
“Teach Miss Twenty-third Century a lesson!”
“Smash her skull in!”
Does the entire camp want me dead? Marla wondered in dismay. It certainly seemed so.
The woman (Zuleika?) shoved her with superhuman strength, and Marla’s boots lost contact with the ground. She flew backward as though strapped to a malfunctioning jetpack, then crashed to the earth several meters away. Her back and shoulders hit the ground with a jolt, and she skidded backward for several endless moments before finally coming to a halt. Dazed, she lifted her head in time to see Zuleika snatch a burning brand from the fire and stalk toward Marla with murder in her eyes.
“You’re not one of us!” the woman spat, towering over the fallen lieutenant. She lifted the torch high above her head, while Marla struggled to remember her Starfleet self-defense training, which she hadn’t had cause to think of since her Academy days. “You don’t belong here!”
This isn’t fair! Marla thought, raising a hand in a hopeless attempt to block the coming blow. I’m a historian, not a fighter!
The torch came swinging down, trailing sparks like a meteor. Marla flinched in anticipation of the fiery impact. She could already feel the scorching heat of the flames as they dived toward her face.
“What is this?!” a commanding voice exclaimed. A powerful hand grabbed Zuleika by the wrist, halting the downward trajectory of the torch. An imposing shadow fell between Marla and her foe. “Stop this at once!”
The blazing firebrand retreated from Marla’s face, and she looked up past the flames to see Khan standing head-to-head with Zuleika, his fist wrapped around the Amazon’s wrist. “Explain yourself!” he demanded. He squeezed her arm hard enough to make Zuleika yelp in pain.
The woman’s arrogance evaporated in the face of Khan’s fury. “Lord Khan!” she blurted, an anxious expression upon her flawless, genetically crafted features. “This woman betrayed you!”
“That is between her and I,” he said sternly, releasing her arm. Zuleika stepped backward, the torch dropping to her side. Her panicked gaze darted from right to left, searching for support from her comrades, but none came forward to defend her, not even those who had been enthusiastically cheering her on mere moments before.
Turning away from Zuleika in disdain, Khan reached down and gently took hold of Marla’s hand. His touch sent spasms of relief through Marla, bolstering her spirits, and she marveled once again at his uncanny strength as he effortlessly lifted her back onto her feet. He placed a possessive hand upon her shoulder.
“Are you well?” he asked her urgently. “Shall I summon the doctor?” Marla recalled that Khan’s followers included at least one superhuman physician. Hawkings or Hawkins or something like that.
She shook her head. She was more rattled than injured. “That won’t be necessary,” she whispered. With my luck, the doctor would try to finish me off!
Satisfied, Khan turned his attention back to Zuleika and the others.
“Understand this, all of you,” he said, raising his voice so that entire camp could hear. “This woman is under my protection. Anyone who threatens her shall answer to me.” His formidable gaze swept over the varied faces of the onlooking superhumans. “Have I made myself quite clear?”
A chorus of muttered assents answered Khan’s query, but Marla could not help noticing the grudging, halfhearted nature of the responses. She was still persona non grata as far as her fellow castaways were concerned, no matter what Khan dictated. Congratulations, Marla, she told herself ruefully. You’re an outcast even among exiles.
She blinked back tears, overcome by both her brush with death and her timely rescue. Her legs felt like rubber and she sagged against Khan, drawing on his strength and presence.
He’s all I have left, she realized. Without Khan, I would be completely alone.
Somewhere out on the veldt, beyond the flickering glow of the campfires, an alien beast roared like thunder, sending another shudder through Marla’s quaking frame.
Dinner consisted of Starfleet field rations in self-warming packets. Although Khan intended for the colony to be self-sufficient as soon as possible, saving their provisions from the Enterprise and the Botany Bay for emergency use only, he had made an exception for this first night on Ceti Alpha V. Tomorrow, they could begin hunting for food and game.
Marla sat alone by a smoldering fire at the outer fringe of the camp, transferring her personal log entries onto a data disk; it was her hope that her daily recordings would someday provide valuable insights into the early days of New Chandigarh. She watched from afar while Khan mingled with his people, making a point of dropping by each of the campfires for a few minutes or so, to share a laugh and some words of encouragement. Marla understood why he was doing this; it was important to maintain the group’s morale. Still, she couldn’t help feeling somewhat lost and abandoned, like an Academy plebe attending her first collegiate mixer. The obvious mirth and camaraderie emanating from the other fires only heightened her sense of isolation.
Outside the camp, the night-shrouded savanna seemed alive with mysterious rustlings and cries. Unknown animals barked and howled in the darkness, making Marla wish she knew more about xenobiology. The irksome insects, undeterred by the smoke, were growing more aggressive by the hour, buzzing about her face and nipping at every centimeter of her exposed flesh. The voracious pests made the vampire ants of Borgo III seem like vegetarians.
Marla caught herself yearning for the controlled climate of the Enterprise. “Stop that,” she whispered to herself. “It’s too late for second thoughts.” She had made her own bed; now she would have to sleep in it.
She washed down the last of her stewed tomatoes and dehydrated eggs with a gulp from her canteen. The decontaminated river water was lukewarm and tasteless, but she finished off the whole canteen in seconds, then found herself wishing for more. Alas, strolling down to the Kaur for a refill was not an option; Ling and her party had already reported sightings of large carnivorous reptiles dwelling along the banks of the river.
Marla wondered what other predators roamed this alien wilderness. Enterprise had not had time to conduct a ful
l biological survey. At least we don’t have to worry about hostile natives, she reflected. Captain Kirk had taken care to ensure that Ceti Alpha V had no sentient inhabitants.
The night seemed almost supernaturally dark by the time Khan finally completed his rounds and joined Marla by the fire. He dropped cross-legged onto the ground beside her. The flickering orange light of the flames caught the sharp angles of his majestic countenance, which were familiar to Marla from centuries-old historical photos as well as her own firsthand observations. His burnished bronze skin seemed to glow from within, as though lit by some unquenchable inner flame. A ceremonial silver dagger, or kirpan, was tucked into his belt along with the phaser. Despite the exertions of the day, he looked as strong and vibrant as ever.
The first time Marla had seen Khan, in that coffinlike hibernation niche aboard the Botany Bay, he had taken her breath away.
He still did.
“My apologies for making you dine alone,” he said graciously. “Sometimes the responsibilities of command take precedence over more personal concerns.”
“That’s all right,” she replied. “I understand.” She glanced up to see Joaquin standing only a few meters away, watching over Khan like a Baneriam hawk. He eyed Marla suspiciously, as though expecting her to knife Khan at the first opportunity. Doesn’t he realize, she thought, unsettled by the bodyguard’s relentless scrutiny, that I would rather die than hurt Khan, despite what happened on the Enterprise?
Her discomfort did not escape Khan’s keen powers of observation. “That will be all, Joaquin,” he instructed the attentive bodyguard. “You may leave us now.”
“But Your Excellency…!” Joaquin protested, alarmed at the prospect of leaving Khan alone with Marla.
Khan smiled indulgently at his servant’s distress. “Do not trouble yourself, my old friend.” A deep, resonant chuckle escaped his chest. “I think I can defend myself against a lone woman.” He shared an amused look with Marla. “Not that I expect I will have to.”
Reluctantly, Joaquin exited the scene, but not before casting one last glare at Marla, who breathed a sigh of relief as the bodyguard’s hulking figure receded into the distance.
“You must forgive Joaquin for his diligence,” Khan said. “Back on Earth, I had many enemies, and Joaquin was my last line of defense against traitors and assassins.” Khan’s voice and face grew more somber as his memory stretched back across the centuries. “He owes me his life, and will do anything to protect me.”
“I see,” Marla said. At least we have that much in common, she thought, although she still couldn’t shake the image of Joaquin striking Uhura. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forget that.
A momentary hush fell over the campfire. Now that she finally had Khan to herself, Marla found herself strangely tongue-tied. It dawned on her that this was the first time they had been alone together since Khan’s defeat aboard the Enterprise; afterward, Khan had been placed under maximum security in the ship’s brig, while Marla herself had been confined to her quarters until the ship arrived at Ceti Alpha V. Although they had seen each other briefly at their judicial hearing, when Marla agreed to join Khan in exile, they had largely been kept apart—until now.
Where to begin? Marla thought. “Thank you,” she murmured, “for saving me … before.”
Khan dismissed the incident with a wave of his hand, as though Zuleika’s attack on Marla was of little consequence. “In time, my people will come to accept you,” he promised.
Marla had her doubts, but chose not to contradict him. There was something else on her mind. “Khan,” she began, “we’ve never talked about what happened on the Enterprise, when I helped Captain Kirk retake the ship.”
Khan nodded gravely. Marla held her breath, waiting for his response. She was terrified of what he might say, but, for better or for worse, she had to know whether he blamed her for stranding them all on this remote and uncivilized planet. Deep down inside, did he distrust her as much as his people did? Please, no, she prayed desperately. I couldn’t bear it if he hates me, too.
“I was angry at first,” Khan confessed. He spoke slowly, as though considering every word. “But I had time to think in that lonely cell aboard the Enterprise, and I soon realized that I had placed you in an impossible situation; I should not have forced you to choose between your loyalty to me and your duty to your captain.” He shrugged his shoulders. “It was a miscalculation on my part. I take full responsibility.”
Thank the gods! Marla thought, feeling a dreadful weight lift from her. Her heart pounded in her chest and she found she could breathe once more. “I was afraid you’d never forgive me,” she admitted, her voice hoarse with emotion.
Khan smiled and took her hand. “What’s done is done,” he told her. “You proved yourself to me when you chose willingly to accompany me into the wilderness.” He looked forward into the future, putting the past behind them. “We need not speak of this again.”
A piece of burning tinder snapped apart in the fire, the sharp report sounding like an old-fashioned gunshot. Outside the camp, a nameless animal howled for its mate. Khan rose from the fire. Nearby a pair of navy-blue Starfleet blankets were stretched out upon the ground, atop a layer of strewn, freshly cut grass. It wasn’t the most comfortable bed Marla had ever seen, but at least the grassy mattress provided a degree of padding.
“Come,” Khan said, helping Marla to her feet. “The night grows late, and we have many long days ahead of us.” He guided her toward the waiting blankets. “Let us retire for the evening.”
Marla thought she was going to die of happiness.
Later, after they’d made love as much as their limited privacy allowed, they lay in each other’s arms besides the fire. Marla rested her head upon Khan’s shoulder, while draping an arm across his bare chest. Ceti Alpha VI shone down upon them. Not quite as romantic as a genuine moon, Marla thought, but close enough for me.
“Tell me about yourself,” Khan urged her. He stroked her unbound red hair. “You know everything there is to know of my illustrious history, yet I know so little about your past.”
“There’s not much to tell,” she said. “I’ve led a pretty boring life, up until recently.”
Khan gave her a skeptical look. “No false modesty,” he chided her. “You are a Starfleet officer, a space explorer. Do not expect me to believe that you have not known remarkable experiences.”
“But it’s true,” she insisted, “more or less.” She snuggled closer to Khan, encouraged by his interest, despite her protestations. “My parents were killed in a transporter accident when I was very young, so I was raised by an older aunt and her husband. They were decent people, but somewhat aloof and set in their ways. I always felt like an intrusion into their well-ordered lives, which revolved around advanced subspace theory.” She smiled ruefully. “Not exactly the most exciting environment for a young and energetic child!”
Khan nodded. “I can sympathize. I was reared by distant relations myself, after my mother perished in the Great Thar Desert. A civil engineer and his wife. Admirable individuals in many ways, but hardly my intellectual equals. I spent much time reading, in search of stimulation.”
“So did I!” Marla enthused. She was pleased to discover they had this much in common, even coming from two entirely different eras. “History, mostly. The past always seemed more colorful and interesting than modern-day Earth.”
“I, too, was drawn to accounts of the heroic past,” Khan revealed. “Alexander the Great, Ashoka, Napoleon—these were my inspirations as a youth.”
I can believe it, Marla thought. Who else would Khan Noonien Singh seek to emulate than the legendary conquerors of the past? She readily placed him among their ranks, and knew that his greatest triumphs were yet to come. Our descendants will remember Khan as the first great ruler of Ceti Alpha V.
“So how did you come to join Starfleet?” he asked.
Marla turned her thoughts back to her own early years. “Well, no surprise, I studied history
at first, but academia turned out to be too much like my guardians’ cloistered scientific milieu, so I applied to Starfleet Academy instead. I guess I figured that if Earth had become too placid and predictible, I could always find the excitement I was looking for out on the final frontier.”
“And did you?” he pressed her.
She shrugged within his embrace. “I suppose. To be honest, I don’t think Captain Kirk had much use for me. I almost never accompanied him on away missions, not even when we went back in time to 1969.” A sigh of regret escaped her. “All I got to do that time around was pick out the landing party’s wardrobe so that they could blend in with the people of your time.”
It gave her a start to realize that, at the same time that the Enterprise was orbiting Earth in 1969, thanks to the slingshot effect of a dangerous black star, Khan and his fellow superhumans were being conceived in a top-secret laboratory in Rajasthan. Who would have guessed we’d both end up on Ceti Alpha V three hundred years later?
“If Kirk did not take full advantage of your talents,” Khan said, scowling, “that was his mistake.” His expression darkened slightly as he spoke of Captain Kirk. “I saw at once that you were a woman of exceptional qualities.”
As much as she appreciated the compliment, Khan’s enmity toward Kirk made Marla uncomfortable, so she hurriedly changed the subject. “In retrospect, life on the Enterprise did have its heart-pounding moments. We rode out some fierce ion storms, not to mention pitched battles against the Klingons, the Romulans, the Gorns, and other hostile races. I caught an alien virus once, along with the rest of the crew, and spent several hours proclaiming myself the Crown Princess of the Universe. I even got to meet Richard the Lion-Hearted, sort of”—she blushed at the memory—”on this bizarre shore-leave planet.”
Khan listened attentively to her words. A sense of profound intimacy came over Marla, compelling her to open up her heart completely. “Even still,” she admitted, “I never felt entirely at home aboard the Enterprise. There were adventures, yes, but they weren’t my adventures; I was just along for the ride. I wanted something extraordinary to happen to me—something like you.”