Sulu looked up at Harriman. He reached up, removed the rank pin from her right shoulder, and replaced it with the new one. “Congratulations, Captain Sulu.”
She felt her mouth drop open, but she said nothing.
“And Enterprise will still be going to the Röntgen Wall,” Harriman said. “That will be your first mission as captain.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Sulu finally managed. “Thank you.”
“You’ve earned this, Demora. You’re a fine officer, and you’ll make an excellent starship captain.” He smiled widely. “You’re also a damned good friend.” He stood up and moved toward her, and she rose as well. They embraced, and when they parted, he said, “Since you’re a captain now, I no longer outrank you. But I do have seniority, so I hope you’ll accept one final suggestion.”
“What’s that?” she asked.
Again, Harriman held out his hand. Now it held the rank pin he’d just removed from her uniform. “Xintal has been promoted to commander. It’s your choice, of course, but I think she might make a fine first officer.”
Sulu beamed. “Shall we go tell her?” she said.
Harriman shrugged. “Why don’t we let this night belong to Borona? I’ll be leaving Enterprise before it departs Starbase 77, but I’ve scheduled appointments tomorrow with each of the senior staff. I’ll have time to say goodbye, and you’ll have time to make your announcements.”
“All right,” Sulu said. She took the commander’s insignia from Harriman’s hand and exchanged it with her captain’s pin. Then she looked up at her old friend. “I’ll miss you,” she said.
“I’ll miss you too,” he said. “But I’m a good letter-writer, and I know you are too.” It was a skill she’d learned from her father. “And I hope we’ll get to see each other from time to time.” He paused, and then said, “Now go see Borona on her last night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She nodded and thanked the captain again, then crossed the room to the door, which opened before her. She stopped just outside Harriman’s cabin, feeling overwhelmed by what had just happened. She felt both sad, knowing that she would miss her friend, and exhilarated, marveling at what her own future would hold.
Gathering herself, Captain Demora Sulu headed for the turbolift, striding through the corridors of her first command, U.S.S. Enterprise.
Harriman walked past the unmarked door, but then came to the end of the long corridor. That has to be it, he thought. He turned around and headed back the way he’d come.
He had to smile. It had taken him two starships, two transports, and a shuttlecraft to get to this remote outpost, and now he couldn’t find the right room. I was a helm officer, he joked to himself, not a navigator.
Harriman reached the unmarked door again and stopped before it. He looked both ways down the corridor, attempting to get his bearings and decide whether he really had arrived at the right place. But before he’d come to a conclusion, the door slid open.
“John!” Amina said. “What are you doing here?”
He smiled. “I love you.”
“I love you,” she said, and they stepped forward into each other’s arms, their bodies fitting together as though they’d never been apart.
Into Amina’s ear, he whispered, “Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” she whispered back.
“When?” he said.
“Every day.”
Harriman pulled back so that he could see Amina’s face.
“How about today?” he asked.
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank several people for their assistance, generosity, and support during the writing of this novel. I first wish to express my gratitude to Marco Palmieri, both for offering me the opportunity to play in the Lost Era sand-box, and for all of his unstinting efforts along the way. Marco’s professionalism is unmatched, and his editorial skills and sensibilities always improve my writing. His patience and understanding are fortifying, and his vision and enthusiasm for the work galvanizing. Marco is a good man, and I feel fortunate whenever I have the chance to work with him.
I would also like to thank several of the Star Trek novelists. Peter David magnanimously allowed me the full use of Admiral John “Blackjack” Harriman, and Michael Jan Friedman, with equal magnanimity, the full use of “Iron Mike” Paris. Keith R.A. DeCandido provided me with Ditagh, and I gave him Kaarg, so that we might generate a bit of fun continuity for those who read both this book and Keith’s own Lost Era entry, The Art of the Impossible. I am grateful to Dayton Ward, who graciously answered several questions about the Trek universe that I posed him. Lastly, I want to thank Peter David and Armin Shimerman for generously giving of their time by stepping in for me at a writer’s workshop when I was unexpectedly unable to attend.
On a very personal note, thank you for everything to Paul “Stick” Roman, #40, now gone. Paul and I shared so many wonderful moments together, both on and off the baseball diamond. His sense of humor and his loyalty were just two of the many things I could always count on (unlike his fastball, which wasn’t always fast, and his curveball, which didn’t always curve). One of my closest friends and a best man at my wedding, Paul lived a quiet life of greatness. His legacy of kindness cuts a broad path through many lives, and I am a better man for having known and loved him. I will miss him always, and Jackie, Becky, and Ryan Roman continue to have important places in my life and in my heart.
I am thankful, too, that my life intersected with that of Terry Weinstein, now also gone. Terry’s love of the game and his wit—not to mention his hitting, fielding, and running abilities—always made it enjoyable to step onto a baseball field with him. It’s not the same without him, and never will be. I miss him, and I keep Ellen Gordon and Terry’s family in my heart and thoughts.
I want to thank Colleen Ragan for her love, friendship, and support. One of the funniest people I’ve ever known, Colleen also manages to impress and encourage me, by bravely and boldly taking her life in new directions. And of course, she is truly the queen of all she surveys.
Thanks to Marty Nedboy, another person whose incredible sense of humor never fails to brighten my days. Marty is a dear and fabulous man, and absolutely one of a kind. I still can’t wait for him to take his comeback show to Vegas.
I want to thank Anita Smith for her unflagging love and support. She’s a terrific woman, and I appreciate the happiness she brings to life.
I want to thank Patricia Walenista, a woman to whom I always look for love, support, and guidance. There is no question that she has, in so many ways, contributed wonderful things to my life. I respect, admire, and love her.
And finally, thank you to Karen Ragan-George, who in addition to fulfilling my life in countless ways, also managed to save it this past year. After all this time, she still makes me laugh harder than anybody else ever has, and my heart still beats faster when I’m with her. She provides continuous inspiration to me on so many levels, a Renaissance woman whose beautiful smile makes everything worthwhile. Karen is the love of my life, for now and ever.
About the Author
Serpents Among the Ruins marks David R. George III’s fourth writing foray into the Star Trek universe. David’s previous contributions include a first-season Voyager episode, “Prime Factors,” and two Deep Space Nine novels, The 34th Rule and Twilight; the first of the four-book Mission: Gamma series, Twilight also composes a part of the DS9 novel “relaunch.” In addition, David will be penning one of the entries in the upcoming Worlds of Deep Space Nine series of Trek novels. He also continues to write mainstream fiction, and hopes to complete a film screenplay shortly.
Born and raised in the magnificent metropolis of New York, New York (the city so nice…), David has subsequently lived all over the country. He called upstate home when he attended the State University of New York at Plattsburgh, where he earned a Bachelor of Science degree in mathematics and scientific computing, with minors in writing and philosophy. He resided in South Carolina when he attended graduate school at Clem
son University, where he earned a Master of Science degree in mathematical sciences, with concentrations in operations research and scientific computing. Since then, he has lived in Kansas, Washington, and northern and southern California.
David loves to travel, and has done so all over the United States, from Key West, Florida, to Anchorage, Alaska; from Kalae, Hawaii, to Burlington, Vermont. Outside the U.S., he has visited Russia, Switzerland, Tunisia, Spain, Italy, France, Monaco, England, the Bahamas, Mexico, and Canada. He hasn’t been to the moon or Mars yet, but both places are on his agenda.
David loves the game of baseball, and he plays both in regular tournaments and in a league. While he used to want to watch a game in every Major League ballpark, he now hopes to play in every one; he has already done so twice at Candlestick Park, once at Oakland–Alameda County Coliseum, and three times at Dodger Stadium. He’s also played in numerous Major League spring training stadia in Arizona and Florida, and in several minor league parks in California and Nevada.
In addition to baseball, David plays racquetball regularly, and he and his fabulous wife, Karen, love to dance and play softball together. They are passionate film aficionados, voracious readers, and devoted—if often unrewarded—New York Mets fans. They currently live in southern California, still one step ahead of the law.
Serpents Among the Ruins Page 37
