Dark Allies

by Peter David

  Thoughts of Xyon briefly crossed his mind, and then he pushed them away. "Absolutely," he said. "If you wouldn't mind coming this way, Overlord… do you have a name, by the way, other than your title?"

  "We have no names, in that our individuality does not matter. All that is significant is what position we hold relative to our service of Xant. I am the Overlord. Prime One is my prime assistant. That is all that is required. And as for the individual Redeemers, nothing more is required than that they know that they are Redeemers."

  "A simple 'no' would have sufficed, but I appreciate the insight. This way, then. Commander Shelby, if you wouldn't mind conducting our little group to the conference lounge on deck nine?"

  Calhoun made certain that he hung toward the back with Si Cwan, and as they headed toward the conference lounge, he said in a low voice, " 'I would rejoice in the annihilation of your race'? What the hell was that about?"

  "It is how I feel."

  "Grozit,Cwan, I don't give a damn how you feel. Your function on this ship, such as it is, is as an ambassador of good will. No matter how much you may personally dislike the Redeemers—no matter how much I may dislike them—the bottom line is, Shelby is right. They represent, at the moment, potential allies, and our mission to provide aid and relief in this sector of space becomes that much easier if they're with us than if they're against us."

  "You do not understand, Captain, and there is nothing more that I can say that will make you understand. But you will. Sooner or later—most likely sooner—the Redeemers will make you understand. Let us simply hope that it is not too late when that happens."

  Shelby had to admit it; the Overlord certainly had a knack for looking imperial. He sat in a common, ordinary chair in the conference lounge in such a way that he made it look like a throne. And he, the imperious king, belonged there. Prime One and the nameless Redeemer stood on either side. When Shelby had indicated that they should sit, they politely shook their heads but said nothing else otherwise.

  Grouped around the table were Calhoun, Kebron, Si Cwan (who never took his gaze off the Overlord, as if expecting him to pull a weapon at any moment) and Soleta. Soleta had actually had a brush with the Redeemers many years before. Of all the Star-fleet personnel on the ship, only Soleta had spent any extensive time in Thallonian space, exploring the region surreptitiously back when it was still closed to outsiders. She had been on a world that was converted by the Redeemers and had had the opportunity to see them at work close up. To hear her tell of it, they had functioned with ruthless efficiency. The Redeemers in action, according to Soleta, were a terror to behold. Yet she was able to sit one seat away from the Overlord of the Redeemers and look at him with such a bland expression that Shelby couldn't help but admire hersangfroid. Sometimes she wondered if it wouldn't do her some good to go to Vulcan and study there for a couple of years.

  "All right, Overlord," Calhoun said, leaning back in his chair, "you have all our attention. So why don't you—"

  The door hissed open and Shelby, as did the others, looked up in surprise. Standing there were Xyon and Kalinda. Shelby noticed that Kalinda's hand had, a split second earlier, been brushing against Xyon's, but now they were simply next to each other.

  "Hello," Xyon said evenly. "I was hoping, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, that we might be able to sit in on this meeting."

  "May I ask why you feel your presence is necessary?" asked Calhoun.

  "Well, it so happens that of everyone in this room, we had the most recent experience with the Redeemers … including this gentleman right here," said Xyon, indicating the Overlord. He was smiling in an excessively polite fashion … so much so, that Shelby immediately sensed danger. "As a matter of fact … he tried to kill me. Thought he did so, in fact. Left me for dead. Isn't that right, Overlord? And tortured Kalinda as well. That's right too, isn't it?"

  There was a deathly silence and then the Overlord said, quite coolly, "Yes. That is right. Although the young lady was somewhat paler at the time."

  "You torture my sister … try to kill the son of our captain. … and now you sit here looking for this ship to help you out of a problem?" said Si Cwan, barely containing his anger.

  The Overlord never came close to losing his composure. "I did not know them for who they were … at least, not at first. Nor, obviously, did I know that I would at some point require your assistance. Had I been aware of any of this, then naturally I would likely had done some things differently. It is too late to go back. We can only go forward."

  "Xyon … Kalinda … you may stay, if you keep in mind that you are here as guests," Calhoun said. "And you will be expected to conduct yourselves as such. Understood?"

  They nodded and took seats as far from the Overlord as possible. Shelby imagined that she could feel the temperature in the room dropping a good thirty degrees. She wouldn't have been surprised if her breath started coming out of her mouth as mist.

  "As I was saying," continued Calhoun, "why don't you tell us what this is about, Overlord, and we'll see how perhaps we can be of service to one another."

  "I will come right to the point," said the Overlord, although coming to the point didn't stop him from pausing, possibly for dramatic effect. "The Black Mass is migrating toward our homeworld."

  Shelby had the feeling that this was something that should have had a tremendous impact on her, from the way that the Overlord was saying it. Unfortunately, she had absolutely no clue what he was talking about

  But then she saw Si Cwan stiffen, looking as if he'd been stunned with a cattle prod. Kalinda likewise had a strong reaction, and even Soleta looked perturbed.

  "All right," Calhoun said slowly. "Who wants to fill me in?"

  "It is … a terrible thing," said Si Cwan, and from the gravity of his tone, it was clear to Shelby that he was speaking from first-hand experience. "I saw them … it … once, many years ago. It is horrible. I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

  "On almost anyone," Kalinda said, firing a resentful look at the Overlord. The Overlord ignored it.

  "And what would them, or it, be precisely?"

  "Precisely, Captain … no one is quite certain," Solta said. "The Black Mass is a 'thing,' for lack of a better phrase. It is either a single creature or millions of smaller creatures combined into one great creature; no one is quite certain, and descriptions vary. It resides in an area of space colloquially known as the Hunger Zone, situated in the outskirts of Thallonian space. Computer, Section Alpha Zed Eighty-three."

  On the screen on the wall of the conference lounge, a sector of Thallonian space came up. Shelby was immediately struck by how little was charted.

  "Think of it as the Marianas Trench of Thallonian space," continued Soleta. "Any endeavors to explore there have been unsuccessful. Probes have been disabled…"

  "Eaten," said Si Cwan.

  "Whatever," Soleta told him. "The point is, no scientific investigation of the nature of the Black Mass has ever been made."

  "How big is it?"

  "As big as it needs to be, Captain," said Si Cwan. "I saw it consume an entire world."

  "An entire world?" said Shelby. "Si Cwan, you said you were a child at the time. Is it possible you're misremembering … ?"

  "No. It is not. Nor will I forget when it ate the sun …"

  There were outright sounds of skepticism then from Zak Kebron, and even Calhoun seemed incredulous. "Asun? You mean an entire star? Some entity actually ate an entire star?"

  It was rare that Shelby saw Calhoun quite that doubtful, but she had to admit that she understood why he was reacting with such astonishment. The concepts that they were describing seemed not only beyond the realm of possibility, but beyond comprehension. "How can something eat a star?" Shelby said.

  "If you come to Tulaan IV, you will be able to ask the Black Mass yourself," said the Overlord dryly.

  "I must say that what we are hearing," said Soleta, "is in fact consistent with anecdotal evidence. Not only what others have said, but what I myself h
ave observed. I went to one site that was allegedly assaulted by the Black Mass. My charts indicated that there was supposed to be a star there … but there was nothing. I think it difficult to misplace an entire star, don't you?"

  "I'm sure that the vessel I was on as a youth recorded the event," said Si Cwan, "but naturally obtaining such records will be a bit problematic, considering my homeworld was devoured by a gigantic flaming bird. And might I add, captain, that since you witnessed such an unlikely event with your own eyes, you be a little less quick to question the likelihood of that which you consider 'beyond comprehension.' "

  "Point taken," admitted Calhoun. "All right … just for the sake of argument … let's say this thing is real. It comes out of this Hunger Zone whenever it feels like it, eats whatever it feels like, and then disappears into the Hunger Zone for … ?"

  "There is no set time. Years," said Si Cwan.

  "We keep watch on the Hunger Zone, just as we keep watch on many things that have impact on our sector," said the Overlord. "We detected the Black Mass swarming from the Hunger Zone, and we tracked its trajectory. By calculating its present course, we found that it will make contact with Tulaan IV and, presumably, devour it—and, equally presumably, our sun—possibly within days."

  "But I'm looking at where the Hunger Zone is …and I know basically where your homeworld is," said Calhoun. "Travelling at sublight speeds, it would take years for this—"

  "Not years. It moves at warp speeds."

  "Oh, come on!" Even Shelby was finding it impossible to deal with everything that was being tossed at her. "A biological creature travelling at faster than the speed of light? And yes, yes, I know, the damned Great Bird moved faster than the speed of light, but I would have liked to think that was a one-time occurrence, not something that was routine."

  "You may think whatever you wish," said the Overlord. "The point is, this is what is going to be happening, and this is the difficulty with which we are faced."

  "So you're saying that you want us to help prevent this Black Mass from destroying your world."

  "Impossible," said Si Cwan flatly. "Nothing can stop the Black Mass. Nothing. I suggest that if your planet is targeted, you leave. Believe me, there are others who did not have such an opportunity. I watched them die."

  "Now wait a minute," said Calhoun. "What happened then, and what might happen now, is not necessarily the same thing. Perhaps we can do something."

  "We can't," Si Cwan said.

  "We have been known to be fairly resourceful, Ambassador, from time to time," said Shelby, but she was starting to wonder. From everything she was hearing about this Black Mass, she was beginning to question just what one starship could possibly do. A fleet, perhaps …

  "The Black Mass must be destroyed," said the Overlord. There did not seem to be any sign of compromise in his tone.

  "Wait one moment," said Shelby. "If this is a sentient being, we can't just go in with guns blazing …"

  "It wouldn't matter if we did," Si Cwan said again.

  "We're not murderers," Shelby continued. "That's not what Starfleet is all about. We would—"

  "You would what?" It was Prime One who had spoken. Then he hesitated, but a nod from the Overlord clearly encouraged him. "Try to converse with the Black Mass? Strike up a chat? Endeavor to talk it out of its intentions? Commander, with all respect, you speak thus because you have not witnessed the Black Mass in action. If you had, you would know that any such efforts would be doomed to failure."

  "Starfleet has a Prime Directive, doesn't it?"

  It was Xyon who had spoken, and all eyes turned to him. Kalinda looked mildly amused. "For someone who seemed to have no interest in Starfleet, you seem rather conversant with its rules," she said.

  "A Prime Directive," continued Xyon, "that says you cannot interfere. Correct?"

  "Yes," said Calhoun evenly.

  "If this Black Mass is, in fact, some sort of sentient creature … I don't see where you can interfere with it, then. It's just going about its business. And if the Redeemers are having problems, why then, it's the Redeemers' problems. Can't interfere with that either. Way I see it, you don't have a choice. You have to stay out of it."

  There were looks passed around the table. "He brings up a valid point," Shelby said.

  "A valid point?" said the Overlord. "Nonsense. There is no rule that says Starfleet must stand by when there is an invasion of another world. That is what this is. An invasion."

  "But Tulaan IV is not a world that we necessarily need care about," Calhoun pointed out. "It is populated—with all respect—by a race who has shown itself time and again to be very aggressive."

  "And you have shown yourself, time and again, Captain, to be someone who does what he feels needs to be done, regardless of rules. I am aware of your activities, and any number of them fall outside the parameters of your Prime Directive," said the Overlord. "You can help … if you want to."

  "And why should he want to?" Xyon said, and there was no mistaking the anger in his voice.

  "It is not your concern, boy," said the Overlord. "And I suggest you hold your tongue, lest I be forced to teach you another lesson in manners."

  Xyon's anger was clearly bubbling over. He was out of his chair and he took a step toward the Overlord. "You son of a—"

  The Overlord spoke then. He said a word. Shelby didn't hear it.

  Xyon apparently did. He staggered, grabbed at his ears, cried out and slammed back against a wall.

  Shelby was half out of her seat, as was Kebron. Calhoun, however, never came close to losing his cool. Instead he was watching with keen interest.

  Slowly, Xyon staggered to his feet. He brought his gaze up level with the Overlord …

  … and then he laughed. The pain he appeared to be feeling, the agony that had supposedly thrown him around were gone, just like that.

  The Overlord's face dropped in surprise. He spoke again, and once again, Shelby didn't hear him, which was odd because she was looking right at him. This time Xyon didn't move at all. Instead he made a fairly grotesque face and then uttered some odd noises.

  "All right, that's enough, Xyon." Calhoun looked rather amused, both at his son's theatrics and also at the look of pure astonishment on the Overlord.

  "Thank you for allowing me to test that, Captain. His expression upon realizing his impotence was very small payback … but it was something, nevertheless."

  "Thank you, Xyon. And you, Lieutenant," he said to Soleta. Soleta nodded in acknowledgment.

  Shelby was utterly clueless as to what had just happened. "Captain …" she began.

  "The Overlord," Calhoun said by way of explanation, "has access to a most… curious form of offense, according to Xyon. Certain words, ancient words, that apparently trigger painful and aggressive synaptic responses. However, everything we hear the Overlord say, naturally, is translated for us via the instantaneous translators that are fairly standard issue throughout all of known space." He tapped his ear. "So once Xyon told me of this, I took the liberty of having Soleta reprogram all of the ones worn byExcalibur personnel—and by Xyon—through the central computer. The translator is essentially acting as a screening device. When it encounters a word that has no direct analog—one that is not known to modern linguistics—it disrupts the word's sonic frequency before it reaches your inner ear. As a result, the brain never hears it, and no damage is done. So you see, Overlord… whatever tricks you intended to pull, whatever pain you intended to inflict upon me or other members of this ship… it's not going to happen. Now then, Overlord," and he leaned forward, his hands on the table, his fingers interlaced, "what are you going to do to convince us to help you?"

  Shelby figured that she should have been angry at Calhoun, perhaps even furious. She hated when he did this sort of thing: Embarked on some sort of strategy without bothering to let her know. She had complained about it to him repeatedly. He had always apologized, promised it would never happen again … and then had done it anyway. It was becoming
tiresome for her, and she wondered whether she should just stop saying anything about it,

  Or whether she should just quit.

  She pushed the thoughts out of her mind as being inappropriate to the matter at hand.

  "Convince you to help us?" asked the Overlord. "Do you need convincing? You were sent by Starfleet to extend humanitarian aid where needed. We are in need. Was there anything in your mandate that allowed you, or encouraged you, to judge who was, and who was not, worthy of aid in your eyes? Who are you to judge?"

  "Coming from the Redeemers, that is almost amusing," said Si Cwan.

  The Overlord did not even bother to continue looking at Si Cwan. Instead the level gaze of those red eyes remained entirely on Calhoun.

  Shelby was, by that point in her career, quite accustomed to dealing with members of races other than her own. She did not habitually hold them up against humanity and set standards for them. That would have been inappropriate for someone who was a member of Starfleet. Nevertheless, she felt a chill in her spine as she looked into the eyes of the Overlord, for in them she saw something very, very inhuman.

  "Well, Captain?" asked the Overlord. "You haven't answered my question. Who are you to judge?"

  "The captain of theExcalibur," replied Calhoun, "with resources that are admittedly a bit limited, but discretion that is nearly unlimited. There's an old Xenexian saying that I think is especially appropriate at this time, Overlord: You plow my field, I'll plow yours. You want me to save your homeworld. All well and good. But it's not as if your people have gone from world to world, spreading good will and cheer. I don't reject the notion out of hand of saving your homeworld … but lives are not at stake. You could evacuate if need be."

  "It is to our homeworld that Xant will return when he comes back from the beyond. We must wait for him there. We have no choice. If the Black Mass are not stopped, then we will be on Tulaan IV, waiting to the last. And if that last, for whatever reason, determines that we are devoured along with our world, then we will trust that Xant's will has been done. However, obviously living is preferable to dying. Given our choices, we would opt for the former."