“If we do get out of this alive,” she said, “then I will have been responsible for Huan being asked to leave the Federation, won’t I?”
“No. The Huan Council of Elders, who made the decision to lie about their past to the Federation advisory board, will be responsible, if that even happens. What you will be responsible for is helping us figure out how [181] to stop the Falorians from essentially taking over the quadrant.”
Now her ears were fully erect, and she beamed at him. He squeezed her shoulder affectionately. “Feel better?” he asked.
“Oh, very much!” She hugged him vigorously. He supposed he should have expected it. He endured the embrace, and smiled at her as she rose and left.
He went back to bed, feeling oddly better, and was just drifting off to sleep when his communicator chirped. Groaning, he flipped it open. “Kirk here.”
“It’s Scott. You’d best get here right away.”
The clipped, tight sound of Scott’s voice put Kirk on red alert. He hurried into his clothes and fairly ran.
Alex, Julius, Talbot, and Gallagher turned to him when he entered, their faces pale and drawn. He imagined he could smell the fear.
“It’s bad, Captain. It’s very, very bad.”
“Show me.”
Scott swiveled the computer screen so Kirk could see it. “What am I looking at?” he asked.
“Remember when I told you that all the testing the Falorians did was with an incredibly pure chunk o’ dilithium?” Kirk nodded. “That got me to thinking. You and I know that most of the dilithium crystals in operation out there are much less pure. When it comes right down to it, all dilithium crystals really are are hunks of stone. They therefore can be expected to have varying degrees of impurities in them—other minerals and so on. Processing can clean them up a bit, but most of the crystals we use have a certain amount of impurity to them.”
[182] Kirk nodded. “Go on.”
“This is the test scenario utilizing a crystal of the purity that the Falorians used, over ninety-nine percent pure.” Kirk watched as the animated nanoprobes descended. He saw the molecular structure of the crystal altered. The image shrank, pulling back until Kirk was looking at a crystal about the size of his hand inside a warp core. Nothing happened.
“When the virus alters the molecular structure of the crystal, it’s as if you put a diamond in the matter-antimatter chamber,” Scott said. “Nothing happens. But watch what happens with a crystal that’s not quite so pure.”
He tapped the keys and the simulation played again. A second time, Kirk watched as the virus went to work and the image pulled back.
The light from the explosion was so bright that he had to close his eyes. “What the—”
“The virus weakened the molecular structure so much that the crystal shattered,” Scott explained. He looked ten years older. “The fusion of matter and antimatter without the intervention of the crystal resulted in a warp core breach.”
Kirk stared at the screen, which had reset and was replaying the deadly scenario. “How impure was the crystal?”
“About eighty-seven percent. We ran a few more scenarios. If you want to avoid a warp core breach as a result of this virus attacking the crystal, you’d need at least a ninety-two percent purity.”
Kirk didn’t want to hear the answer, but he had to [183] ask. “I know you don’t know exactly, but give me your best estimate. How many starships out there have crystals that will fracture if they’re infected with this virus?”
“About nine out of every ten, if we’re lucky,” Scott replied, grimly.
“So if this virus is released—”
“Nine out of ten starships, of every make and model, of every fleet in the quadrant, will be destroyed,” Scott replied grimly.
Kirk’s mind reeled. The Falorians weren’t just going to invade Huan and dominate the dilithium trade.
They were going to kill billions of innocent people while doing it.
Chapter Sixteen
FOR A LONG, dreadful moment, no one spoke. What words could there be, to voice one’s horror? Finally, Julius broke the silence.
“I can’t believe it,” he said, his voice soft.
“You’re not calling my scenarios into question, now, are you, lad?” said Scotty softly, with a warning in his rich Scottish burr.
“No, no, I’m sure they’re correct, but. ...” Julius ran a hand through his sandy blond hair. “I’m just having a hard time believing that the Falorians are going to commit mass murder. I thought I knew—”
“We don’t know anything about them!” cried Alex, speaking directly to his brother for the first time since Julius revealed his treachery. “You don’t know anything about them! They’re probably reveling in the knowledge of what they’re about to do. You think you know someone, and then they go and do things. ...” His voice trailed off.
“It’s one thing to steal something, to hatch a plot to [185] make yourself rich,” Kirk said. “It’s quite another to cold-bloodedly set about the murder of billions of innocent people who have never done you harm.”
Julius physically shrank from Kirk’s words. Kirk knew what he was thinking, because he was thinking it too: Julius began this. If he hadn’t introduced them to the Syndicate, they would never have been able to put this plan into action.
But attacking Julius wouldn’t solve anything. Kirk took a deep breath and changed the subject slightly. “Is the virus presently active?” he asked Scott.
“No, and that’s a blessing for sure, at least for the moment,” Scott replied. “I can’t be certain without more information, but I’m betting that each probe will be remotely activated at some point, probably simultaneously. Whenever the Falorians decide the time is right.”
“That makes sense,” Chekov said. “They don’t want a single probe to be detected until they’re ready to wreak havoc with all of them at once.”
“Thank heaven for small favors,” Kirk said dryly. The disaster had not yet struck, and might yet be averted. The question was, what could they do? How did they go about warning the Federation, and incidentally, saving their own hides?
“Scotty, I don’t suppose you could adjust the Drake so that it could leave the atmosphere?”
“Not without a lot of parts we don’t have, and probably not even then,” Scott answered grumpily. “She’s a remarkable little atmospheric vessel, but she’s not designed for space flight.”
“The only ones able to get information out are the [186] Falorians,” Kirk said. “You were able to piggyback onto their signal once, to raise their shield and shut down their security systems. Do you think we could get a signal to Starfleet the same way?”
Scott looked thoughtful. “It’s possible, but I doubt I could do it without actually being inside the complex.”
“Then it sounds like we’ll have to get you inside.”
“Why haven’t they attacked yet?” Gallagher wanted to know as Kirk gathered them together for their final round of instructions. For someone who advocated peace so strenuously, Gallagher always seemed to be itching for a fight.
“On Earth, we have an old saying: don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” Kirk answered. “The Falorians may feel that we didn’t escape with anything significant, or assumed we’d never be able to decode the information even if it was important. Under normal conditions, they’d be right, but they hadn’t counted on Skalli.”
From where she sat in the front row, Skalli beamed.
“We’ve been very careful about where we’ve discussed our plans,” Kirk said. “Or at least, I hope we’ve all been careful. The Falorians have seen to it that we can’t communicate with the outside, and that we can’t leave. Whatever it is we do know, we can’t spill the beans to anyone. There’s no need for them to attack us quite yet. Which is completely to our advantage.”
He outlined his plan while they listened attentively.
The weather cooperated, and over the course of the next nine hours, small groups of threes and
fours left the [187] perimeter of the colony. They carried testing equipment and food, and moved without haste toward the areas they were studying. Mattkah and his crew went to their flower field and began running tests. Veta went to a cave he’d been mapping. Gallagher went to a forested area, where she’d been conducting tests on the wildlife. Others went to different areas. There were several shuttle runs that dropped off research teams.
In short, the colonists all appeared to simply be going about their business of research and study. Three times, Falorian ships flew over, and Kirk knew they were all being carefully watched. It was perhaps the hardest thing he had asked yet of the Sanctuarians—to pretend that everything was normal when it wasn’t. A few of them were tense and harried-looking, and their “conversations” were designed to be overheard. But Kirk was counting on the Falorians doing a quick sweep, not moving in tightly to get facial expressions and overhear words. He only hoped that they wouldn’t notice that instead of the usual groups of about three or four, every single colonist was now casually departing the base allegedly to do research.
Each team of “researchers” carried with them emergency ration packs and as many useful tools as possible. The one piece of equipment they didn’t have were communicators. Mark Veta’s careful, meticulous mapping of the caves over the last few weeks was now invaluable. Everyone had a map of the cave system thanks to his diligence, and that meant a place to literally go to ground and hide. Veta’s work could help save lives.
[188] Kate Gallagher had worked with Scotty on refining her “Masker.” They had identified the frequency at which it worked to block Falorian tricorder readings. What had been created as a way to protect endangered species from poachers was now being turned to protect endangered colonists from kidnappers. The Masker worked in the lab, but they had no idea just how effective they would be in the field.
“Humanoids are the ultimate predators,” Gallagher had said as she was the first to be injected with the subcutaneous chip. “How ironic that we’re the hunted now.” She had rubbed her sore arm and glared at Dr. Sherman. “You need a better bedside manner, Ted.”
The entire plan was a huge gamble, but it was the only way to get people out of harm’s way as quickly as possible.
“I want you to go too,” Kirk said to Alex, as the last team was getting ready-for departure.
“No way,” Alex said. “I’m coming with you.”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
Alex flushed. “Why not? Because I’m incompetent? Because I’m not a leader like you? I saw him watching me,” he said, jerking his head in Scott’s direction. “I know he saw me crack, during the sandstorm. But I’ve learned so much, Uncle Jim. I could help you.”
Kirk put his hands on his nephew’s shoulder and looked him right in the eye. “I know you could help me. But they need your help more than I do. The fewer people who try to break into that complex, the greater the likelihood that we’ll succeed.”
Anguished, Alex cried, “You’re taking him with [189] you, and he’s the one who got us into this mess!” Julius paled. “You know why Julius is going,” Kirk said before tempers could flare further. “He knows the Falorians better than any of us, and he’s more familiar with their equipment. We’ll need his knowledge when we get inside.”
Alex stubbornly refused to reply. Kirk tried again. “Alex, you’re not Starfleet. You’re not trained in the sort of things you’ll be required to do. What you are, is head of this colony. These people trusted you enough to uproot themselves and follow you halfway across the galaxy in pursuit of a dream. That dream is in danger. You owe it to them to be with them. You promised to protect them. Keep that promise.”
Alex looked over at the group slipping on backpacks and checking their equipment. They looked back at him intently. Kirk hoped Alex could read their body language as he could: Come with us, Alex. We need you. We’re afraid.
Kirk removed his phaser and extended it to Alex. The younger man recoiled as if Kirk had offered him a cobra. “I don’t want it.”
“You might need it,” Kirk pressed. “Take it.”
“No,” Alex said firmly, straightening. For the first time in days, he seemed to have his old sense of confidence back. He was again the intense, persuasive dreamer. “Things have fallen apart, Uncle Jim. A lot of things have spiraled out of our control. But the one thing I can control is how I behave in this crisis. Sanctuary was founded on high principles, foremost among them being a desire not to harm anyone. You’re right, the Falorians [190] do need to be stopped. But the minute I take that phaser and fire it at one of them, I become just like them. Don’t you see?”
“No,” Kirk said, honestly. “I’ve never seen anything wrong with defending yourself, and the phasers can be set to stun.” He smiled. “But this is your colony, Alex. Your people. You have to do what you think is best to protect them in a way that honors all your beliefs.”
Alex looked back at the group, as if for confirmation. They were all smiling and nodding. Kirk admired their resolve to adhere to what they felt was right, even in the face of injury or death. Personally, he always felt more comfortable with a phaser in his hand, but one of the reasons he’d used a phaser as often as he had in his life was to protect just such ideals as Alex and the other colonists fervently believed in. He wouldn’t force Alex to take a weapon if he didn’t want to.
“Besides,” Alex said, forcing a smile, “We’re just quietly hiding. You five are going into the tiger’s lair. You’ll probably need all the phasers you’ve got.”
Kirk agreed with him. Frankly, he wished they had more. But three would have to suffice.
Alex’s group was the last one to depart. As he had done with each of the others, Kirk shook everyone’s hand. Leah Cohen actually pulled him into a quick hug, while Mattkah did little to hide his continuing dislike. Kate Gallagher grasped Kirk’s hand firmly, as was her wont, and he hesitated.
“Your Masker is going to save lives today,” he told her. “Perhaps not the way you envisioned, but it won’t be abused.” That, he knew, had been her biggest worry: [191] that somehow her talents would one day be put to destructive use.
She smiled, and her face softened. “Thanks,” she said. She didn’t let go of his hand for a moment. Then she said, “Hey, Jim, if we ever get out of here, I’d like to show you my thesis one day.” Gallagher squeezed his hand and let it drop.
When this last group departed Sanctuary, Kirk nodded to Skalli, Julius, Scott, and Chekov.
“Let’s go,” he said, and they climbed into the Drake.
In the end, Lissan knew that he was glad that 858 had forced the timetable up. Like the Orion, Lissan too was growing impatient. The scientists had had their day. Now, it was the time of those who would act.
Lissan was a direct descendent of Takarik. On a planet where there had been no indigenous peoples, it was fairly easy to keep track of one’s ancestry from the hour that the Huanni had abandoned them. While the Falorians did not believe in royalty per se, one’s ancestral lineage was considered to be important. So when Lissan had decided to follow politics and eventually become one of the Kal-Toreshi, the governing body of Falor, no one was too surprised. For years, he had been aware of the plan, and despite the warnings of the scientists clamoring for more time to do more thorough testing, he was ready, even eager, to plunge forward.
The Falorians and the Huanni had long been silent enemies. When forced to interact, both sides had been unfailingly polite, but the Falorians had never bothered to disguise their hatred. And why should they? They had [192] been the wronged, the innocent, forced into harsh physical labor for centuries and then discarded as inconvenient and unwanted. And the arrogance of the Huanni! No mention of what they had done, no offers of regret or apology, nothing.
It had been a racial triumph for the Falorians to have kept the precious secret for as long as they had. It was hard to keep from gloating, but they had managed. Centuries ago, when the Huanni had almost offhandedly deposited the
ir own brethren on Falor, Lissan’s ancestor had stolen a single precious crystal—one of uncountable millions yet to be mined. Physical labor had uncovered them, and to this day, the Huanni remained cheerily ignorant of the riches upon which they were squatting. Deep mineral layers under the soil prevented scanners from discovering the unbelievably pure deposits. Technology would not reveal them; only the difficult digging of generations of slaves had done so.
It had been a terrible irony: the Huanni had the means to mine the dilithium, but no knowledge that it was even there, whereas the banished Falorians knew of its presence, but had no means to recover it.
Until now.
Now, the Falorians had weapons, allies, and technology. They could descend upon Huan and quickly, efficiently subdue it with a minimum loss of life. Life was precious to the Falorians, even Huan life; the fewer who died in the coming conflict, the better, Lissan was not after blood, he was after riches, power and acknowledgment, curse them, acknowledgment of the wrongs the Huanni had perpetrated upon his people.
[193] Once he had that, the Falorians would move in and harvest every kilo of the precious crystals, sharing, of course, with their good friends and comrades the Orion Syndicate.
Lissan couldn’t resist a smile. This was the sweetest part of a delicious, infallible plan.
Oh, yes, the Orion Syndicate would help them subdue Huan and mine the dilithium. They would even take almost half of the staggeringly pure crystals. Then they would go away, the deal completed to everyone’s satisfaction.
And then, Lissan would order the nanoprobe virus activated. The precious dilithium the Syndicate thought they had all but stolen from seemingly gullible Falorians would be worth nothing more than any other rock. Nearly every ship in the quadrant, including Syndicate ships, would be hanging dead in space.
No Syndicate, to come looking for revenge. No Huanni to attempt a retaliatory strike on Falor. And probably no Federation to send their mighty starships, to protect their newest member planet of Huan.
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