Original Sin

by David R. George III

  “Rebecca!”

  She heard her name and turned her head to see her mother rushing past Robinson crew members. She sprinted across the chamber. Rebecca could have wept at the sight of her.

  But her mother didn’t run over to her. Instead, she raced to Rebecca’s father, who tried to catch her, grasping her by the upper arms and attempting to keep her in place. She struggled to push past him, reaching for—

  Rebecca looked beyond her father, to the place her mother fought to reach, and saw her own small body lying on a metal shelf. She felt as though she’d been dropped from a great height. Terror filled her. She tried to think.

  If that’s me—

  Rebecca hopped from the surface on which she sat. Her feet landed on the floor with a hard, metallic thump. She raised her arms and looked at them—

  What?!

  Rebecca saw three appendages, formed of coiled bits of metal connecting solid structures. Her sense of herself, of her location in space, of the parts of her body in relation to one another, told her that she was seeing her own limbs, but her conscious mind rejected the notion. Rebecca tested the idea by willing her arms to move.

  Before Rebecca, the three metal projections rose, flexed at multiple joints, shifted according to her directions. She brought them into her body and heard them chink against other pieces of metal. She gazed down and saw a figure she did not recognize, an artificial alien physique that could not possibly have belonged to her. Except that her senses told her something different.

  This is me!

  Days earlier, Rebecca had awoken in a transparent cage with other children. They had all obviously been kidnapped from Robinson. Their strange, robotic captors had said little to them, but the peculiar aliens clearly abducted them for a reason.

  This is why, Rebecca thought, staring down at her new self. The aliens had taken her away from Robinson, away from her parents. They had stolen not just her life from her, but her very existence as a human. The reality horrified her.

  And then Rebecca’s horror and shock and dread changed. As she recognized the hopelessness of the situation, she got angry—angrier than she had been in a long time, angrier than she had almost ever been. Angry at the entities who had taken her from Mommy and Daddy, angry at spending so much time away from her home, angry at the machines that had pulled her from her own body, angry that she would never be able to return to a normal life with her parents, who she loved more than anything.

  Rebecca opened whatever orifice passed for her mouth and screamed: “NOOOOO!”

  A pale yellow flash of light surged from her in every direction, like the shockwave of an explosion centered within her.

  • • •

  An alert sounded on the tactical console, and Uteln worked quickly to identify it. Sensors registered it as a significant and abrupt increase in energy on the inner surface of the Dyson section. “I’m detecting what looks like an explosion on the surface of the Glant world,” he said.

  “Where?” Rogeiro asked from the command chair. “Is it near the away team? Or did they cause it?”

  Uteln sent his hands darting across his panel. “I’m working to isolate the readings, but it was nowhere near the runabout or the captain’s away team.” After Styx had landed, Ensign Weil had reported that Sisko and four others had disembarked to meet with a contingent of Glant. Aboard Robinson, Uteln had tracked their progress across the surface to a large building complex. “Commander . . . it’s centered on the location of the children.”

  “How bad is it?” Rogeiro asked. “Are there survivors?”

  Uteln continued attempting to glean information from the readings appearing on his displays, but— “These scans don’t make sense,” he said. “The yield resembles that of a quantum torpedo, but the pattern of energy waves doesn’t match. It reads more like the containment breach of a warp field.”

  “Did the runabout crash?” Rogeiro asked. “Did one of their ships?”

  “Negative,” Uteln said. “The Styx is intact . . . and there was no sign of a warp field in that area.” Suddenly, all indications of the explosion disappeared from the tactical console. “It’s gone,” Uteln said, operating his controls as he studied the scans. “All readings of an explosion are gone.”

  Rogeiro asked, “How is that possible?”

  “I don’t know,” Uteln said. “Except that what the sensors detected couldn’t have been an explosion.”

  “Then what was it?” Rogeiro wanted to know.

  “Something that generated a massive amount of energy in a confined space,” Uteln said.

  “What about the children?”

  “I don’t know,” Uteln said again. “If it was an explosion, I don’t know if they could have survived it. If it wasn’t an explosion . . . then maybe whatever the Glant intended to do to the children . . . maybe it’s begun.”

  Rogeiro jumped up from the command chair. “Robinson to Captain Sisko.”

  • • •

  Sisko reached out and set a hand on Althouse’s arm, and she moved back behind him. “You claim that we stole Gist from you,” he said. Before he could continue, his combadge emitted a tone indicating an incoming message. To the Glant, he said, “My crew is contacting me.” He did not ask for permission to receive the message; for him to be interrupted during the summit, it had to be important. He pressed his combadge.

  “Robinson to Captain Sisko,” came the voice of the ship’s first officer.

  “This is Sisko. Go ahead, Commander.”

  “Sir, sensors detected a power surge at the children’s location,” Rogeiro said. “It initially read like an explosion. But it doesn’t now. We think that whatever purpose the Glant have taken the children for, they’ve begun that process.”

  Sisko looked over at the Glant. Voranesk said, “Yes. The actualization has begun.”

  The captain did not scruple to act. “Alpha one go,” he said.

  He received no reply over his combadge from Commander Rogeiro. A beat passed, and Sisko knew that his first officer was relaying his coded order to Ensign Weil aboard Styx. Then he heard the high-pitched sound of the transporter.

  • • •

  The doors opened and Sisko leaped through them, his phaser raised. A wall of noise met the captain inside the Glant actualization chamber. To his surprise, the broad space looked just like the one he had entered during the first rescue mission. It marked the first time he had observed two creations of the Glant that even remotely resembled each other.

  But unlike in the other actualization chamber Sisko had stormed, all of the equipment before him appeared powered up and operating. Indicator lights flashed on control panels, and information spelled out in alien glyphs marched from right to left across displays. Sisko wanted desperately to find his daughter, but five Glant stationed at various consoles looked over at him. Five Robinson security officers took up a position on either side of the captain, all of them with their weapons aimed at the Glant. He knew that Kasidy and the others stood behind them.

  “Shut off the equipment and move away,” Sisko ordered, raising his voice to be heard over the cacophony of the Glant equipment. He could only hope that he had not arrived too late. It had taken precious time for his away team to battle their way through a legion of Glant defenders. The second away team, composed solely of Robinson security officers, helped to shorten the confrontation by attacking from another direction. But according to Voranesk, the process of transferring the minds of the children into newly created Glant had already begun.

  “You cannot explore here,” one of the alien scientists said, speaking loudly. It had an oblong head and a pyramidal body that looked like a cross section of sedimentary layers mounted atop a wide, rolling track. Extending from each triangular side of its body, a pair of articulated metal arms ended in a hand with at least ten digits. “You cannot stop actualization.”

  “Watch me,” Sisko said, and he pointed his phaser at a shelving unit on the wall to the left of the Glant. The captain squeezed the
trigger pad, and a beam of bright blue energy shot out and diffused across the piece of furniture, vaporizing it into nothingness. “You four move into the far corner,” Sisko said, pointing in that direction, and they quickly heeded his words. To the first Glant he’d addressed, he said, “Now shut down the equipment.”

  The Glant’s wide track spun beneath it, turning it toward the nearest control panel. As it started toward the console, Sisko peered around. Just as in the other actualization chamber, he saw a number of transparent compartments holding the Robinson children. When he didn’t see Rebecca, he risked a look at the far wall, to the horizontal slabs housed inside the large, intricate machines. He couldn’t see her.

  Sisko followed the Glant with the pyramid-shaped body over to a console. The entity raised two of its arms over the control panel, but then hesitated. Sisko stepped around to its side so that it could see him. The captain aimed his phaser at its oblong head. “If you don’t shut it all down right now, I’m going to shoot you and then I’m going to destroy every piece of equipment in here.”

  The Glant’s many-fingered hands moved across the console. The din diminished, lights and readouts dimmed. Sisko waited to see if the Glant would comply by shutting it all down. Eventually, the chamber quieted completely.

  “Now go over there with the others,” Sisko said, pointing to the far corner, where the other four Glant huddled. When the entity joined its colleagues, Sisko glanced back over at the security officers. “Free the children,” he said, gesturing toward the transparent cages. Then he hurried across the room. Kasidy called after him as he ran forward. His eyes moved from side to side as he searched for his daughter. He saw her in the second of the five machines that lined the back wall. A dim glow illuminated her body. She lay on her back, motionless, secured to the slab by straps around her arms and legs. A trio of thick tubes ended in dish-shaped instruments that had been affixed to the sides and top of her head. Her eyes were closed, as if she were sleeping or unconscious.

  Sleeping, Sisko repeated to himself. Or unconscious. His mind would not allow for any other possibilities.

  He holstered his phaser as he reached his daughter. “Rebecca,” he said, his mouth dry, his voice barely above a whisper. “Rebecca.” He felt for the latch, pressed it, then eased the slab toward him, pulling his daughter from the stasis field. Sisko reached out and put his hand on her arm, which felt warm beneath his touch. He felt a cautious relief, exhaling loudly when he saw her chest rising and falling. He unfastened the straps holding Rebecca down. With care, he removed the equipment surrounding her head. Rebecca blinked once, twice, then opened her eyes and looked at Sisko.

  “Daddy,” she said.

  Bajor, 2380

  Tey charged down into the depression behind Orisin. The two of them picked their way as quickly as they could through the thick growth and fallen trees. The other Militia officers stayed up at the rim of the depression, maintaining a vigil in case Radovan had accomplices in the area.

  The major reached Radovan first. Tey’s phaser shot had left the kidnapper in a heap on the ground, stunned into unconsciousness. Orisin dropped a knee onto Radovan’s back, then exchanged his phaser for a set of restraints, with which he bound the man’s wrists.

  Tey went to Rebecca. The girl appeared physically unharmed. “It’s all right,” Tey said, kneeling down to speak with Rebecca at eye level. “My name is Jasmine. We’re here to bring you home to your mother and father. Are you okay?”

  The girl wriggled against the boulder. “My back hurts,” she said in a small voice.

  “Okay, let me get you out of these,” Tey said, examining the cuffs around Rebecca’s wrists. She saw that they required a physical key. She looked over to where Orisin stood by the unconscious form of Radovan. “Would you see if he’s got a key on him?”

  The major bent to Radovan’s inert body and rummaged through his pants. He checked in one pocket, then another. Orisin’s hand came out with a key. He passed it to Tey.

  She quickly unlocked one cuff, and Rebecca’s arm fell to her side. When Tey undid the second cuff, she expected the girl’s other arm to drop as well, but instead, Rebecca threw her arms around Tey’s neck and buried her head in Tey’s shoulder. The girl squeezed tightly, as though she might never let go.

  “It’s okay, Rebecca,” Tey said softly into her ear. She stroked the girl’s hair, trying to soothe her. Rebecca might not have been hurt physically, but who knew what psychological toll the abduction had taken on her—and would continue to take on her. “We’re going to take you to your parents now.”

  With Radovan’s sensor mask still in place—and probably a transporter inhibitor, Tey guessed—they couldn’t beam out of their location. Along with Orisin, Tey scaled the side of the depression. Then, with the other officers, they tramped back through the trees until they reached a point where they could contact provincial Militia headquarters. It took more than half an hour, but at last they all transported out of the Talveran Forest.

  Rebecca didn’t let go of Tey the entire time.

  Gamma Quadrant, 2386

  Sisko started toward the doors of the actualization chamber alongside his wife. Kasidy held their daughter in her arms. Sisko had offered to carry Rebecca, but neither mother nor daughter had any inclination to let go.

  While the captain had freed the other children from the Glant machines, the other members of the away team had gotten the rest of the children out of the cages. Doctor Kosciuszko and Crewwoman DeSantis each carried two of the smaller children, while Counselor Althouse held one. The security officers had gathered everybody together by the doors, with the away team encircling the children.

  The Glant scientists seemed extremely distraught at the disruption of their actualization process, but the captain offered them no sympathy. Instead, Sisko told them to remain where they were until the away team had exited the chamber with the children. One of the Glant started to protest loudly, and so the captain had little choice but to fire his phaser past it. The entity backed down.

  Sisko made his way across the chamber to the doors. He hoped Glant opposition would be minimal so that the away team could bring all of the children safely to the transport point. He looked to Lieutenant Rogers, who consulted his tricorder.

  “Captain,” Rogers said quietly. The security officer leaned in and held up his tricorder so that Sisko could see its display. The captain saw two large groups of orange dots on the screen, many of them fluctuating; some of the pinpoint lights blinked on and off in a regular pattern, while others appeared only for an instant before vanishing. “It’s difficult to determine exact numbers because of the inconsistent life signs, but I estimate at least thirty Glant approaching down the corridor to the left, and another thirty to the right.”

  The report alarmed Sisko. The large numbers of Glant and their advance from opposite directions would make it that much more difficult to reach the transport point without incurring casualties—especially traveling with the children. If only we could transport from here, Sisko thought.

  But then something occurred to him. His crew had been unable to beam an away team into or out of a Glant actualization chamber because of interference with the carrier wave. Spingeld had believed the cause to be the equipment functioning at the location. But that equipment has been completely shut down here.

  The captain activated his combadge with a touch. “Sisko to Styx.”

  “Weil here, Captain.”

  “Ensign, we have the children,” Sisko said. “Have Spingeld scan our location for all non-Glant life signs and attempt transport.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Sisko waited anxiously for a report from Weil. He expected to hear that the Glant technology still interfered with Spingeld’s ability to beam the away team back to the runabout. Instead, he heard the high-pitched tones of transport rise inside the actualization chamber. The dazzling white light formations of dematerialization appeared throughout the group of Robinson personnel and children. Sisko’s vision faded. />
  An imperceptible amount of time later, the large stage of the high-capacity transporter aboard Styx appeared. Sisko immediately checked that the children and the entire away team had been beamed back to the runabout. When he verified that everybody had successfully transported aboard, he quickly kissed his wife and daughter on their cheeks, then headed for the cockpit. They had made it to Styx, but they all still had to get back to Robinson.

  • • •

  The runabout convulsed beneath the onslaught. Through the forward ports, Sisko could see at least six Glant vessels diving toward them from above. Even with the lesser firepower of their ships’ laser weapons, the combined attack rocked Styx.

  “Shields down to thirty-seven percent,” Rogers said from the tactical station, where he had taken over for Grandal.

  The captain had set course for one of the water conduits connecting the inner and outer surfaces of the Dyson section, intending to return to space without having to run the gauntlet of Glant vessels above the populated surface of their world. But sensors revealed that the Glant had sealed the inner apertures of the tunnels, in addition to stationing ships within them. Sisko might have been able to use the runabout’s phasers to blast through one of the sealed entrances, and then to fight past the enemy vessels there, but the composition of the material blocking the tunnels—a diburnium-based alloy—and the close proximity in which a battle would have to take place made neither prospect a certainty. Instead, Sisko piloted Styx out of the ocean and pointed it toward space and the Robinson.

  Sisko heard the tones from the tactical station, signaling the firing of the runabout’s phasers. Multiple yellow-red beams lashed out at the Glant vessels, striking three of them, one of which lost drive control and plummeted from the sky. Sisko brought Styx about in an attempt to evade the attacking ships, but as he veered away, he saw even more of the enemy vessels descending toward the runabout.