New Frontier

by Peter David

  “Have we been in communication with Kebron and Si Cwan?”

  “Yes, sir. They, in turn, have spoken with the crew of the Kayven Ryin. Although they are in distress, there is no immediate danger to them. They report life-support systems are still on line. Kebron and Cwan intended to board the Kayven Ryin and lend whatever aid they can until we rendezvous with them.”

  “Very well. Best speed to Nelkar, then . . . on my order,” he added as an afterthought.

  “On your order, sir,” she said. Then there was a pause. “Captain . . .”

  “Yes, Commander?”

  “We’re waiting on your order.”

  He smiled to the empty room. “Yes. I know.” He paused a moment longer, then said simply, “Now.”

  “Now it is, sir.”

  It was a small pleasure, making them wait in anticipation of the order. Childish, perhaps. A juvenile reminder of who was in charge, but he found that it gave him amusement. And lately he’d had very little of that.

  “Oh, and Commander,” he said as an afterthought.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Just for your information: I broke it off. Calhoun out.”

  • • •

  On the bridge of the Excalibur, Lefler turned in her seat and looked quizzically at Shelby. She noted that it seemed as if Shelby’s chest were shaking in amusement. “He ’broke it off,’ Commander?”

  “So he claims, Lieutenant,” replied Shelby.

  From the science station, Soleta inquired, “Will he be needing someone to reattach it?”

  And then she stared at Shelby in confusion as Shelby, unable to contain it anymore, laughed out loud.

  SI CWAN

  II.

  ZORAN THOUGHT THAT HE was going to go out of his mind.

  He felt as if the damned shuttle craft had been hanging there forever, tantalizingly, frustratingly just out of reach. He had wanted to send multiple messages to it, telling them to get over to the ship immediately, that help was desperately needed, that they were going to die within seconds if immediate aid were not provided. But Rojam had cautioned against it. “They have their own instrumentation,” he advised Zoran. “If we try to trick them, if we tell them there’s immediate danger when there isn’t, they’ll be able to see through it.”

  “Maybe we should take that chance,” Zoran urged.

  “Then again, maybe we should not,” fired back Rojam. “What should we say? That our engines are in danger of exploding? That our life-support systems are failing? These are not possibilities, because their own onboard readings will tell them that we’re lying. And if they know that we’re lying, then they’re going to start to wonder what the truth is. And if they do that, then we have a major problem.”

  “Damn them!” snarled Zoran, pacing the room. His long and powerful legs carried him quickly around the perimeter, and his blue body armor clacked as he moved. His red face was darker than usual as he mused on the frustration facing him. “Si Cwan wasn’t part of the plan, but now that he’s here . . . damn him and damn them all!”

  “Damning them isn’t going to do a bit of g—” Rojam began to say. But then he stopped as a blinking light on the control panel caught his attention. “Incoming hail from the Marquand,” he said.

  “It’s about time!” Zoran fairly shouted.

  “Will you calm down?” Juif said in exasperation. “If we’re in communication with them and Si Cwan hears your bellowing, that’s going to be the end of that!”

  With effort, Zoran brought himself under control as Rojam answered the hail. “We were beginning to wonder, Marquand.”

  “We needed to speak with the Excalibur,” came the deep voice that they knew to be the passenger other than Si Cwan. “What is your present emergency status? How long can you survive aboard your vessel?”

  Zoran was gesturing that Rojam should lie, but Rojam was quite certain that that was not the way to go. He believed in all the reasons that he’d put forward to Zoran, and there was one other element as well: If Si Cwan was aboard the Marquand, not all the hosts of hell would get him to depart without his sister at his side.

  “Lie!” Zoran hissed in a very low voice. “They’re going to leave if we don’t!” And the way his fist was clenching and unclenching told Rojam a very disturbing truth: namely, that if answered the question from the Marquand accurately and then the shuttle craft turned and left for the mother ship, Rojam would very likely not live out the hour. Not given the mood that Zoran was presently in.

  But he felt he had to trust his instincts, and on that basis, he said, “Life-support systems are presently holding together. Our main problem is in engineering; our propulsion systems are out. Our batteries are running down and we likely could not survive indefinitely, but for the very immediate future, the danger level is tolerable.”

  There was a silence that seemed infinitely long, and Rojam could practically hear his life span shortening. But then the voice said, ’This is the Marquand. With your permission, we will come aboard and give what aid we can, while we wait for the Excalibur to rendezvous with us. Will that be acceptable?”

  “Yes. Absolutely acceptable,” said Rojam, relief flooding through him. Behind him he could sense Zoran nodding in approval.

  “Just one thing . . . ?”

  “Yes, Marquand?”

  “Please put the passenger called Kalinda on with us. Her brother would like to speak with her.”

  “Uhm . . .” Suddenly sweat began to beat on Rojam’s crimson forehead, his grimacing white teeth standing out in stark relief to his face. “Just a moment, please.” He switched off the comm channel and then turned to Zoran. “Now what?”

  “Now?” Zoran smiled. “Now . . . we give them what they asked for.”

  • • •

  Si Cwan stared in confusion at Zak Kebron. “Why did you ask them to put Kalinda on?”

  “Because,” Kebron said slowly and deliberately—which was more or less how he said everything—“I am being cautious. It’s my job to watch out for everyone on board the Excalibur. That even includes those who have no business being there at all.”

  “I appreciate the thought.”

  “Don’t. As noted: It’s my job.” He paused. “Would you know your sister’s voice if you heard it?”

  “Of course.” He waited for a response, but none seemed to be immediately in evidence. Concern began to grow within him. “You don’t think there’s a problem.”

  “I always think there’s a problem,” replied Kebron. “It saves time. And lives.” He checked his instruments. “Their life-support appears stable. Pity. If they had lied about that, I would have known that there was something wrong. Perhaps it is a more subtle trap.”

  “Or perhaps they’re truly in distress. But then . . . why hasn’t Kalinda come on—?” It was a disturbing thought. He had simply taken for granted that his sister was truly a passenger on the science vessel. The notion that she might not be was agonizing for him. To have his hopes raised and then dashed in such a manner . . .

  But even more disturbing, he realized, was the concept that he had not questioned it for one moment. One did not acquire or maintain power by being easily duped. Had he let his love for his sister, his desire to try and reconstruct some semblance of his former life, completely blind him to all caution? That was a very, very dangerous mind-set to have.

  And then a girlish voice came over the comm system. “Si Cwan?” it said.

  Si Cwan came close to knocking Kebron aside—or as close as one can come to budging someone who is essentially a walking mountain of granite. “Kally?” he practically shouted.

  “Si Cwan, is that you?”

  “Yes . . . yes it is . . . Kally, everything is going to be all right . . .”

  “I’m so glad to hear your voice, Si Cwan . . .”

  Si Cwan felt himself choking with relief, but then Kebron said in a sharp whisper, “Ask her something only she would know.”

  “What?” He seemed to have trouble focusing, which of cou
rse bugged the hell out of Kebron.

  “Something only she would know,” he repeated.

  Slowly, Si Cwan nodded. “Kally . . . remember that time? That time shortly before we had to leave? Remember that? When I said that I would always be there for you? Remember, when we spoke at our special place?”

  There was a short hesitation, one that made Si Cwan wonder ever so briefly, and then her voice said, “You mean that time by the Fire Falls? That?”

  He closed his eyes and nodded. Kalinda, meanwhile, naturally couldn’t see him as she continued, “Si Cwan? Is that what you’re talking about?”

  “Yes, that’s it.”

  “Why did you want to know about that?”

  “Just being careful. You understand. These days, we can’t be too careful.” He looked triumphantly at Kebron, who merely grunted and edged the ship forward toward the Kayven Ryin.

  “Okay, Si Cwan . . . whatever you say.”

  “We’ll be there in a few minutes, Kally. Don’t worry. We’ll be right along.”

  “Okay, Si Cwan. I’ll see you soon.” And the connection broke off.

  And the moment that happened, Kebron brought the ship to a dead halt in space. Si Cwan was immediately aware of it. “What are you doing?” he demanded.

  Zak Kebron turned in his chair. “I don’t like it.”

  “What?”

  “I said I don’t like it.”

  Si Cwan appeared ready to explode. His body was trembling with repressed fury. “Now, you listen to me,” he said sharply. “I know what this is about.”

  “Do you,” asked Kebron, unimpressed by Si Cwan’s ire.

  “It’s not enough that you continue to resent me, or deny my right to be aboard the Excalibur. But now . . . now you’d hurt a young girl whom you’ve never met . . . who’s never done anything to you . . .”

  “It must be nice to be a prince,” Kebron said evenly, “and know everything there is to know about everything.” Then he glanced at the control board. “They’re hailing us.”

  “Of course they are! They’re wondering what’s happening.” Si Cwan came around his seat and confronted Kebron, fury building. “They have no idea that a resentful Brikar is endeavoring to make my life impossible!”

  Kebron ignored him, instead bringing the hail on line. He began to say, “Marquand here,” but he wasn’t even able to get that much about before an upset voice said, with no preamble, “Why are you backing off?”

  “We are returning to our vessel,” Kebron said flatly. “A situation has come to our attention. Marquand out.” And with that he severed the connection.

  “What are you hoping to accomplish?” demanded Si Cwan.

  “Merely being cautious.”

  “The hell you are. This is all part of your attempt to upset me, to interfere with—”

  Unperturbed, the Brikar cut him off with a terse “This solar system, like all others, does not revolve around you. I do not like that she severed communications with us. If I were a young woman, connecting with my brother who might have been dead for all I knew, I would keep talking to him until he was aboard. I wouldn’t shut down the connection, as if I were afraid he might figure out that I was an impostor.”

  “That is—”

  And then a light began to flash on the control panel, a sharp warning beep catching their attention. Kebron immediately began to bring the ship around as Si Cwan demanded, “What’s happening?”

  “We’re being targeted. They’re going to fire on us.”

  “They’re . . . what?”

  Si Cwan looked out the main window, catching a glimpse of the Kayven Ryin as the shuttle craft started to angle away from it. A motion on the aft section caught his attention. Despite their distance, his eyesight was formidable and he zeroed in with impressive visual acuity. What he saw were two gunports opening, and twin heavy-duty phaser cannons snapped into view. And the last thing he saw before their view of the science ship was cut off was the muzzles of the cannons flaring to life.

  “Brace yourself!” shouted Kebron. “I’m trying to bring the warp drive on line before—”

  He didn’t have time to complete the sentence before the Marquand was struck amidships by the phaser cannons. The runabout spiraled out of control as Kebron fought to regain command of the battered ship. To his credit, he never lost his cool. Indeed, it might not have been within his makeup to become disconcerted.

  Si Cwan was not strapped into his chair. As a result, he was tossed around the interior of the cabin, reaching out desperately to try and grab hold of something, anything, to halt himself. He crashed against one wall and felt something in his shoulder give way.

  Sparks flew out of the front console as Kebron tried to institute damage procedures. The shuttle craft was rocked again, and Kebron shouted, “We have to abandon ship!”

  “What?” Si Cwan was on his back, looking around, stunned and confused.

  There was a gash in Si Cwan’s head which Kebron hoped wasn’t as bad as it looked. It wasn’t going to look good in his service record if he’d left with a live passenger and returned with a corpse. The notion that the status of his record might be utterly moot didn’t enter into his considerations. He was not prepared to admit that as a possibility. “Warp engines are down. We’re perfect targets out here. We have to assume that they’re going to keep shooting until they blow us to pieces.”

  “Why are they doing this?”

  “As a guess: because they want to kill you. I’m simply the lucky bystander.” He grabbed Si Cwan by the arm and Si Cwan howled in such agony that Kebron quickly released him. He knew he hadn’t pulled on Si Cwan with any force; the mere movement of the arm had been enough to elicit the screams, and he realized that Cwan’s arm was injured. “Get up!” he said, urgency entering his voice for the first time. “We have to go.”

  “Go where?”

  “There!” Kebron stabbed a finger in the general direction of the science vessel that they had come to aid. Si Cwan was staggering to his feet and Kebron grabbed him by the back of the neck, which somehow seemed a less injurious place to hold him. He propelled him toward the two-person transporter nestled in the cockpit of the shuttle craft.

  Fire was beginning to consume the main console, smoke filling up the interior of the shuttle craft. Moving with surprising dexterity considering their size, the Brikar’s fingers yanked out a small panel from the wall next to the transporter, revealing a red button which he immediately punched. It was a failsafe device, provided for a situation precisely like this one, where voice recognition circuitry was failing and setting coordinates through the main console was an impossibility.

  The emergency evacuation procedure was activated, an automatic five-second delay kicking in, providing Kebron and Si Cwan that much time to step onto the transporter pads. Si Cwan was nursing his injured shoulder as Kebron half pushed, half pulled him onto the pads and hoped that they actually had five seconds remaining to them.

  The transporter automatically surveyed their immediate environment and locked on to the first, nearest destination that would enable them to survive. And an instant later, Si Cwan’s and Zak Kebron’s bodies dissipated as the miraculous transporter beams kicked in, sending their molecules hurtling through the darkness of space to be reassembled in the place that was their only hope for survival: the science vessel Kayven Ryin. The vessel which had assaulted them, and now provided their one chance to live . . . if only for a few more minutes, at best.

  • • •

  When Zoran saw the Marquand backing away, he began to tremble with fury. “Where are they going? We gave them what they wanted. Si Cwan spoke to his sister. Get them back here!” And he cuffed Rojam on the side of the head. “Get them back!”

  Rojam barely felt the physical abuse. He was too concerned with the Marquand suddenly moving away from the station, as if they had tumbled to the trick. More on point, he was concerned with how Zoran was going to react, and what precisely Zoran might do to vent his displeasure. Hailing the s
huttle craft, he tried to control the growing franticness he was feeling as he asked, “Why are you backing off?”

  From the shuttle craft there came nothing more than a brief, to-the-point response: “We are returning to our vessel. a situation has come to our attention. Marquand out.”

  “They know! They know!” roared Zoran.

  Rojam’s mind raced as he tried to determine the accuracy of the assessment. “I . . . I don’t think they do. Suspect, perhaps, but they don’t know. They want to see what we’ll do. If we’re just cautious . . .”

  “If we’re cautious, then they’re gone!”

  “We don’t know that for sure! Zoran, listen to me—!”

  But listening was the last thing that Zoran had in mind. Instead, with a full-throated roar of anger, the powerfully built Thallonian knocked Rojam out of his seat. Rojam hit the floor with a yelp as Zoran dropped down at the control console. “Get away from there, Zoran!” Rojam cried out.

  “Shut up! You’re afraid to do what has to be done!” Even as he spoke, Zoran quickly manipulated the controls.

  “I’m not afraid! But this is unnecessary! It’s a mistake!”

  “It’s my decision, not yours! You’re lucky I haven’t killed you already for your incompetence! And if the phaser cannons you rigged up don’t perform as you promised . . .”

  But the need to complete the threat didn’t materialize, for the phaser cannons dropped obediently into position, even as their targeting sights locked onto the Marquand.

  “In the name of all those whom you abused, Si Cwan . . . vengeance!” snarled Zoran as he triggered the firing command.

  The phaser cannons let loose, both scoring direct hits, and the cries of triumph from the half-dozen Thallonians in the control room was deafening. Actually, only five of them cheered; Rojam pulled himself to sitting, rubbing the side of his head where Zoran had struck him. “This isn’t necessary,” he said again, but he might as well have been speaking to an empty room.

  The shuttle craft was pounded by the phaser cannons, helpless before the onslaught. The Thallonians cheered every shot, overjoyed by Zoran’s marksmanship. Even an annoyed Rojam had to admit that, for all his faults, Zoran was a good shot. Of course, having computers do all the work certainly helped.