The Fire Eternal (Confederation Reborn Book 6)

by Bernard Schaffer

  He laughed and said, "I do, I do. It's just, well, the mind is willing, believe me it is, but sometimes, the body is not so cooperative."

  She kissed him, "But we need to power the crystal. And I am extremely drawn to you right now."

  "I have an idea," he said. He turned his head and said, "Replicator! Activate the medicinal distribution program."

  "Warning, you are not scheduled for medication at this time," the replicator responded.

  Kirn wrapped his arms around Tesha and pulled her close as he said, "Override. This is a special occasion."

  4.

  He sat up in bed, eyes flying open as he clenched the crunchy gold fabric of his blanket. Sweat dripped off his arms and chest, and he panted, trying to catch his breath. The Captain's cabin was arranged around him in perfect order. A tablet containing a captured history of the Korgon Empire that he'd struggled to read for years, only able to make it through a few paragraphs at a time that read "Kah-tok, son of An-gat, killed Botlik with a rifle blast, in glorious combat. The next day, Farwak, son of Yaz-ka, killed Kah-tok by cutting his neck, in glorious combat," for pages on end.

  Kirn ran his hand over his jawline, feeling the tight skin there, and looked down at his torso. His wonderfully toned, muscular torso, and threw back the blanket, standing up to admire himself in the cabin's mirror.

  "This is amazing," he whispered.

  He headed for the closet panel and waved it open with his hand, admiring the order of the uniforms hanging within. His spare boots were immaculately polished and his pants, creased to sharp edges. He grabbed the pants and slid them on quickly, worrying at first at how small they appeared in the waist, but they went around his flat stomach, no problem. He looked at the time, trying to determine where everyone else would be on the ship at that hour. "Computer," he said, flicking a switch on the console as he finished pulling the uniform tunic down over his head. "What is the current status of all senior command officers?"

  The computer whirred a moment, thinking.

  That's different, he thought. I forgot how slow these things used to be.

  It beeped, and the computer's voice was soft and feminine when it said, "All senior command staff are at their assigned positions."

  He paused a moment, trying to decide his next move. Before he could speak, the cabin door whistled and slid open as someone walked in. Kirn whipped around in surprise, coming face to face with a young woman that made his mouth drop open.

  Sara Peters stood in the doorway, holding an armful of his clothing. "I-I thought you were on the bridge," she said.

  "Sara?" he whispered, voice thick with emotion. "Sara, it's you."

  She averted her eyes and came into the cabin just enough to set his things down on the nearest table. "I told you I have nothing left to say to you, Bill. I've put through my transfer request already. When we reach the Obama Research Center, I intend to stay."

  She turned to leave, and Kirn blurted out, "Sara! I was wrong. My God, I was wrong. I should never have locked you in your cabin. I should have trusted you, I know that now. I wanted to protect you, but you didn't want to be protected, not like that. Please forgive me."

  Sara stood facing away from him, her fists clenched, looking down at the floor. "I worked my entire career to be assigned to this ship. The other girls warned me about you. They warned me and I didn't listen. Now, no one trusts me. They all think I was the only person onboard who did not have the courage to take the same risk. You did this, Bill," she said, heading for the door. "Not me."

  "Sara, wait. I know about the—" he said, starting to go after her, having to force himself to stop speaking.

  She looked back at him. "You know about the what, Bill?"

  He was trapped by her stare. The answer was on the tip of his tongue. The baby. I know you're pregnant. I know about our son.

  There was no possible way he could explain to her how he knew. In reality, he'd only found out about the boy three years after his birth. He'd flown directly to the Obama to see his son and try to reconcile with Sara. It had worked for a while. But not long enough. Soon, her old anger at being betrayed, and his new anger at being cut out of his own son's life, came between them. It would be a repeating pattern for the rest of their lives, sometimes resulting in a brief rendezvous on the beaches of Espana II, and sometimes resulting in them not speaking for long periods of time because of some ridiculous argument.

  Until the day their son died. And after that, nothing was ever good between them again.

  He forced the words out through the tightness in his voice, "I know…about the pain I caused you. Can't you please find a way to forgive me? Please. I love you. I always have. I always, always will."

  She closed her eyes and turned to look at him, tears streaming down the curves of her cheeks, and Kirn moved toward her, arms wide to embrace her. But as he reached near enough to touch her, she turned for the door, saying, "I can't. It's too late."

  Kirn smacked his fist into his hand, cursing himself. I've come all the way back in time only to screw things up again. He barged through the doorway to go after her, only to turn and come face-to-face with his barrel-chested Chief Engineer, Doone. "Captain!" Doone said, startled. "I thought you wanted to see me on the bridge?"

  "I do," Kirn said, clapping the man on the shoulder as he tried to maneuver around him. "You'd better get up there."

  "But you just called me, not even a minute ago," Doone said, turning. "How in the blazes did you get down to this deck so quickly?"

  "There must be a delay in the transmission."

  "That's impossible, sir."

  "Mister Doone, I do not have time to stand here and argue with you about meeting me on the bridge!" Kirn snapped. "Now do as you're told and meet me there!"

  "Aye, sir," Doone whispered. He watched the Captain turn and hurry down the corridor, going the opposite way of the lift. "Is there some other way up to the bridge, sir?" The captain kept running, and Doone shrugged and turned back toward the lift, shaking his head and muttering, "And they wonder why I drink?"

  Kirn rounded the corner of the corridor, ignoring the confused looks of the crewmen as he ran past. "Everything all right, Captain?" a few called out.

  "It's fine," Kirn said. Just getting my daily jog in.

  He knew the ship better than he expected to remember. Every bulkhead, every section and its assignments. He kept thinking he might have to stop and catch his breath, or rest his knees, but his young body held up magnificently. It was a joy to move again. To be himself, one more time.

  It was everything he wanted. Everything that Tesha had said it would be. And best of all, it never had to end.

  "For as long as you choose," she'd said.

  He knew he could not stay aboard the Endeavor. He'd have to steal a ship and escape to some distant system, where no one knew him. Maybe live a life as an adventurer, using his knowledge of the future to his advantage. He could do it. He could even find a surgeon to alter his appearance, and then…Sara. She'd have no idea who he truly was, but he knew everything about her and could make her fall in love with him. He knew it. They'd finally have a chance to be together, to raise their son together. To keep the boy away from what awaited.

  "For as long as I choose," he said aloud. "Why in the hell would I ever choose to go back?"

  A loud scream sounded from down the corridor to his right, stopping Kirn in mid-step. It was a woman's voice, begging someone, "Please, please don't hurt him. He didn't mean anything."

  He recognized the corridor. It was the nearest mess hall to his cabin, where he walked to get coffee in the evening after a long shift. Another scream rang out, and the woman cried, "Stop it, Commander, you're killing him!"

  Inside the room, Walter Bryant was standing over a kneeling Ensign, a young man who was clutching his neck and wheezing, his mouth open so wide his lips were constricting to thin, bloodless lines. Bryant had his right arm in the air and his hand held upright. Bryant's voice was strained when he said, "What's wrong, E
nsign? Nothing to say, now?"

  "Walt!" Kirn shouted.

  Bryant's fingers were trembling with effort, "I was trying…to speak to this…young lady, Captain. But Ensign Busybody just couldn't…mind…his…own business."

  Foam filled the Ensign's mouth and he collapsed forward, slamming his elbow's on the hard tile floor. "Walt!" Kirn said. "That is enough. Release him, this instant. That's an order."

  Bryant spun around, eyes gleaming with hatred. His hand came up toward Kirn, and he said, "I don't think I like taking orders anymore, Bill."

  Behind him, the Ensign cried out as he was able to draw a breath. The female crewmember ran to him, covering his body with her own, trying to protect him. Bryant's face contorted as he looked at Kirn. He grabbed his raised hand by the wrist and forced it back down, stopping just a few feet away and he said, "Captain, I…I don't know why I said that."

  "It's all right, Walt," Kirn said gently. "It's not your fault. We need to talk."

  Bryant turned around and looked at the two people on the floor, cowering in fear from him. His voice broke slightly as he said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt anyone."

  "Get away from him, you monster!" the girl shouted.

  Bryant was staring at his hand in confusion, massaging it around the wrist. "Did you see what I was doing, Bill? How was I doing that?"

  "I saw, Walt. It's going to be okay," Kirn said, putting his arm around the man. "Come with me to Sickbay. I know how to help you."

  Bryant's head whipped around at the touch of Kirn's hand, his eyes filling with murderous rage. "Who are you?" Bryant snarled.

  "It's me, Walt. William Kirn. We've known each other for years," Kirn said, grabbing him by both arms.

  Bryant struggled free of Kirn's grip, shaking his head violently, "No. No, you're lying! You're not supposed to be here!" Bryant's face contorted in pain as he reared back on his heels, clutching the sides of his head with both hands. "I won't do it!" he cried out. "I won't hurt him! You can't make me!"

  "Walt, you have to fight through this!" Kirn shouted, trying to grab him again.

  Bryant's hand shot into the air, fingers spread wide. Kirn looked at the hand with amusement at first, but then felt all the air forced from his chest like someone had punched him in the sternum. He was exhaling uncontrollably, until there was no air left, until his lungs felt constricted like shriveled grapes. He sank to his knees, unable to do anything besides listen to the awful whistling sound coming through his mouth.

  "Leave him alone, you monster!" A spice shaker hurled through the air, smacking into the side of Bryant's head, it's heavy metal corner knocking him sideways.

  The Captain suddenly gasped, inhaling as much as he could, forcing air back into his chest. His head swam dizzily as he looked up, seeing Bryant staggering into one of the tables, holding the side of his head. Blood was streaming down the Security Chief's hand, and he looked down at it, then smiled thinly. His eyes turned to Kirn. "Stay out of my way, intruder. You don't belong here."

  Kirn lunged for him from his knees, but it was too late. He managed to touch just the fabric of Bryant's shirt as the man turned and ran through the mess hall doors. Kirn grabbed the edge of the table to help get himself to his feet, looking over at the woman, still huddled over the crumpled crewman. Ramirez was her name. Young, olive-skinned, pretty. Of course, he remembered her, he chided himself. He'd met her in this very room one late night after Sara had disembarked the Endeavor and comforted himself with her company for the next two months. "That was very brave of you, Yeoman. I'll send Dr. Kelley to help your friend."

  "How will you be able to stop him, Captain?" she whispered. "He'll kill us all if you don't find a way."

  "I'll find a way," Kirn said, tugging his uniform down, into place. "Whatever it takes."

  He heard the sound of footfalls, racing down the corridor toward the room. Someone was shouting, "Captain, stay back and let us go in first."

  Like hell, Kirn thought. They'd been trying to keep him from going on away missions for years. If there was trouble aboard, he was going to try and be the first person coming around the corner.

  Kirn ducked through the mess hall doors, searching frantically for somewhere to escape. There was a sealed compartment across from him, a supply closet, if he recalled. He darted across the corridor and keyed in his captain's master sequence to the door, forcing it to open. He stepped inside just as the first red-shirted security officer turned into the hall, blaster at the ready.

  "Clear!" the security officer called out.

  "Get the hell out of my way," a familiar voice barked.

  Kirn pressed his ear close to the closed supply closet door and heard himself say, "What happened here?"

  Yeoman Rodriguez said, "What? I don't understand?"

  "What…happened…here?" the other Kirn demanded.

  Inside the closet, Kirn scowled, thinking, I don't really talk like that, do I?

  "You were just standing here two seconds ago, Captain. You saw Lt. Commander Bryant attack this officer, then he attacked you. Look, there's the shaker I threw at his head to try and save you."

  "Captain," the deep, reassuring voice of Saris said. "These two have clearly experienced trauma. I suggest you have security escort them to Sickbay while we conduct a room-by-room search for Commander Bryant."

  "You were just here!" Rodriguez sobbed. "What is happening on this ship? Why is everyone acting so crazy?"

  The other Kirn called for medical staff to report to the mess hall on their deck, and he and Saris stepped out of the room, leaving the security staff to try and calm the woman down. Saris's voice was quiet, saying, "This report is consistent with other information we've received about Commander Bryant. At best, he is acting erratically. At worst, he has been affected by our visit to Kazar V and must be detained for psychological evaluation."

  "I've known Walt Bryant since we were kids, Saris! He's not the kind of man to go around hurting random people."

  "And yet, the evidence says otherwise. I cannot allow you to be blinded by your personal relationship with this officer."

  The other Kirn was quiet for a second, then he said, "Spoken like a true First Officer, Mister Saris."

  "I was not aware you'd made a decision regarding that position, sir."

  "I just did. Now let's go find Walt and see if we can get him some help before he really hurts someone. If I can just talk to him, I know everything will be all right."

  Kirn stayed in place long enough for the corridor to clear. He closed his eyes and placed his forehead against the cool metal door, thinking, You're wrong, Captain. There will be no reasoning with Walt Bryant. If you try it, he's going to kill every living thing on this ship.

  Someone has to do something.

  Dr. Kelley was bent over the examination table, checking the vital signs of the unconscious crewman. "He'll live," Kelley said, talking to Sickbay's medical recorder. "There's substantial damage to his larynx and the soft tissue inside his throat. Notify the nursing staff that we need to prep for surgery."

  "I'm sorry, but there's no time for that now," Kirn said, coming through the door. He smiled inadvertently as the doctor looked up at him. Kelley had always looked like an older man to him, with saggy, soulful eyes, but it was good to see him looking fit and spry again. Even the familiar look of wild indignation flashing on his face.

  "This man suffered substantial damage. I need to repair it immediately!"

  "I said there's no time for that," Kirn snapped. "We just got a report of two more patients up on decks four and five, just as bad as this man, if not worse. We're finding more as we go. I need you with the search team."

  Kelley cursed under his breath as he grabbed his portable scanner, strapping it over his shoulder as he headed for the door. He stopped and looked back at the Captain with an arched eyebrow, "Well? Aren't you coming with me?"

  "In a moment," Kirn said. He turned and laid his hand on the injured crewman's chest, saying, "I want to let this young man know how
brave he was. Just in case."

  Kelley rolled his eyes. "We've got a maniac loose on the ship and now everybody's taking time out to be sentimental all of a sudden!"

  Kirn waited for the doors to close and he immediately headed for the medical terminals. He leaned close to it and said, "Computer, what sedative is powerful enough to immediately render a man unconscious for twelve hours?"

  The computer clicked and whirred as it calculated the response. "Five cc of hypothesia will render said results upon injection."

  "Prepare five cc of hypothesia, immediately."

  "Only medical personnel is authorized to requisition that class of medication."

  Kirn smacked his fist on the terminal, "This is a command override, priority one. Prepare the damn serum!"

  The computer beeped again, then said, "Five cc of hypothesia being replicated."

  There would be a record of his override filed in the ship's log. It was just one more thing the other Captain was going to have to figure out. Kirn walked over to the replicator and waited for the processing to finish, then raised the device's lid and removed the syringe from inside. The liquid was green and bubbling. He palmed it in his hand as he went to the door, pausing to listen for the sound of his own voice in the corridor, preparing to run.

  It was 0200 hours before Kirn heard the doors to his former cabin open again. He'd been sitting in the dark so long that he had to squint and look away from the sudden intrusion of light. The room was programmed to remain dark, and the other Kirn stopped inside the doorway and said, "Lights." When there was no response he groaned slightly and muttered, "To hell with it."

  He stopped in the center of the room, seeing the folded clothes laying on the table. He walked over to them and picked up a shirt, raising it to his face and smelling it, checking to see if it still carried Sara's scent. As the other Kirn lowered the shirt, he felt a soft hiss against the side of his neck, and his eyes shot up at the ceiling, suddenly swimming with colors and lights and then nothingness.