After the Fall

by Peter David

  Kalinda gasped, at first unable to grasp what it was she was seeing. Xyon stood there, arms folded, looking quite smug and pleased with himself.

  “Stuck?” he asked, sounding as concerned as someone could when they clearly didn’t actually give a damn.

  “What have you done?!” howled Tiraud. He wasn’t afraid, but his fury was palpable. He yanked with futility on his arm.

  “I saved your life, you idiot,” Xyon informed him. “When it comes to matters of self-defense, I operate on instinct and reflex. If that knife had really gotten anywhere near me, I’d have had it out of your hand in a second and across your throat the following second. You’d be dying as your life’s blood pumped out of you in—”

  “I get the idea, Xyon!” Kalinda called out, still keeping several feet back, uncertain of what was happening. “But what have you done to him?!”

  “Oh, well that should be obvious. He—”

  Suddenly, despite the fact that his arm was anchored in the middle of thin air, Tiraud lunged at Xyon. The abrupt move nearly caught Xyon unaware, and Tiraud was so enraged that—had he gotten his hand on Xyon’s throat—the Xenexian might well have been in serious trouble. But Xyon recovered with lightning speed and stepped back and out of Tiraud’s way, whipping his hand around and striking Tiraud on the back of the head for good measure. Tiraud stumbled forward…and slammed into something that might well have been an invisible wall. He sagged, and the only thing that prevented him from slumping to the ground was his still entrapped arm, which caused him to dangle there as he blinked and tried to reorient himself.

  “Your ship!” Kalinda cried out. “It’s the Lyla! With her cloaking device!”

  Xyon applauded appreciatively. “Never could fool you, Kally. Thing is, I left the hatch open.” He walked toward her with a confident swagger. “The moment he shoved his arm into it, Lyla irised it shut. He’s lucky I instructed her ahead of time simply to immobilize it, rather than just cut right through. I could have done that as well. But I didn’t because of you, Kally. I figured you’d be upset.”

  “You figured I’d be upset?!” She strode toward him angrily.

  “Kalinda…stay away from him,” Tiraud managed to get out.

  She ignored him, instead focusing on Xyon. “Xyon, I don’t know what you’re thinking! I don’t believe even you know what you’re thinking! Okay, no, I take that back. I think you’ve been on your own for so long that you’ve totally lost touch with reality!”

  “No, I haven’t. And the reality is that I issued a challenge in the traditional way of my people. He lost,” he said, chucking a thumb at Tiraud, “and now you belong to me.”

  “You can’t just do that!”

  “Hey, it’s your fiancé’s fault.”

  “How do you figure that?”

  “He didn’t have to accept the challenge,” replied Xyon. “If he’d refused it, I’d have had no grounds to proceed. Instead, by attacking me, he accepted it. In doing that, he gave up all claim to you.”

  “But don’t you understand? He never had a ‘claim’ to me! I’m with him voluntarily! I want to be with him! I love him!”

  “Only,” said Xyon tightly, “because I was stupid enough to stay away. But I’m making up for that right now.”

  “You got the ‘stupid’ part of that right. As for the—”

  Suddenly there were shouts, angry cries of “What’s going on there?!”

  Kalinda didn’t even have to look; she knew what she was going to see.

  Over the crest of a nearby hill, Si Cwan was looking down. Standing next to him were Robin Lefler, and Fhermus of the House of Fhermus, and the Avower, and any number of other guests and notables who were to witness the rehearsal. The fact that Kalinda and Tiraud were running so late had been enough to prompt the others to head back and see what was keeping them.

  Si Cwan had not been thrilled upon hearing the news of Xyon’s being alive. He’d never liked Xyon, and had even come to blows with him. In death, he had chosen to think charitably of him; in life, less so. His return to life had been extremely off-putting for Cwan. As for Robin, when she learned of Xyon’s survival her first instinct had been to inform Mackenzie Calhoun. But she had refrained from doing so at Kalinda’s urging, since Kalinda was hoping and praying that Xyon would see the folly of his actions and choose to tell his father himself. Robin had promised herself she’d wait a month at most, and then she was going to take matters into her own hands.

  It was all on the verge of being moot, though, for Kalinda was certain that if Si Cwan got hold of Xyon at that moment, Xyon’s death would no longer be a falsehood.

  Apparently Xyon thought the same thing. Si Cwan and company were still half a mile off as he said to Kalinda, “We’ll have to discuss this later. Come on.”

  “Come on? Where do you think I’m going to—”

  “I’m sorry, Kally, but it should be clear I’ve no time for this.”

  And with that, Xyon stooped and—before she realized what was happening—grabbed her around the legs and slung her over his shoulder. Kalinda let out an alarmed shriek as he crossed quickly to the invisible ship. “Lyla! Open up!”

  The unseen door irised open and Tiraud yanked out his hand so quickly that he almost fell. Xyon completed the job by sweeping a leg and knocking Tiraud’s feet out from under him.

  “Xyon! Stop it! You can’t do this! You’re being an idiot!” howled Kalinda as she thudded on his back with her fists.

  “And you’re supposed to be with me! And I’ll make you realize that!” Xyon shot back as he vaulted through the door. “Lyla, get us out of here!”

  The ship didn’t respond orally, but it didn’t need to. Its reply instead came in the form of its powerful engines as the vessel lifted off, gaining altitude second by second. As if to boast, Xyon dropped the invisibility cloak and the ship shimmered into existence.

  “Kalinda!” Tiraud shouted, but his voice was drowned out by the ship’s engines. The ship turned gracefully, angled its nose skyward, and began to accelerate. The vessel wouldn’t go to warp within a planet’s atmosphere: the results would be catastrophic both for the planet and for the ship. In any event, the Lyla didn’t need to resort to that. In no time at all, the ship was a mere blip on the horizon, and then not even that as it vanished into the afternoon sky.

  ii.

  Fhermus was stalking back and forth in Si Cwan’s private meeting chamber. Robin was there, as was Tiraud. As for Si Cwan, he thought his head was going to unscrew from his neck as he watched Fhermus’s pacing.

  News was out, of course, as to what had happened. Every member race of the New Thallonian Protectorate had been informed. There’d been no trouble getting the word out: Everyone seemed simply to have found out about it, almost spontaneously. First they didn’t know; then they did. There was a collective sense of outrage, combined with the smirking undertone of condolences that were typically delivered to political rivals. It wasn’t as if people had wished hardship or embarrassment on the houses of Cwan or Fhermus, but there were no laws against taking great amusement in that same hardship or embarrassment when it was inflicted upon them.

  “What about planetary defenses?” Fhermus demanded. “Why the devil didn’t we alert planetary defenses?”

  “Brilliant idea, Fhermus,” Cwan said, trying and failing to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. “There’s every chance that, had I alerted planetary defenses, we could have shot Xyon down before he got out of range. And having done that, I’m sure we would have had no trouble reassembling my sister from the five or six square miles over which her remains would have been scattered. She would have made a lovely bride…or should I say ‘brides.’ ”

  “Perhaps a shattered condition on her part would have been preferable,” sniffed Fhermus.

  Si Cwan rose from his chair. “What is that supposed to mean?” he demanded.

  “Father,” Tiraud tried to interrupt, “it’s pointless to get into all that…”

  But Fhermus clearly didn�
��t consider it so. He went straight up to Si Cwan, and they would have been nose-to-nose if he’d only been a head taller. “My son informs me this…this Xyon person…was your sister’s lover. Is that true?”

  “To the best of my knowledge,” Si Cwan admitted.

  “Outrage!” Fhermus stammered. “Outrage, I say! Her slattern past has brought ruin upon us!”

  Si Cwan was about to put his fist through Fhermus’s face and, as a result, risk the entire collapse of the New Thallonian Protectorate. But before he could do so, Robin Lefler had come between them. “Don’t even think about it,” she said to Cwan and, before Cwan could reply, turned toward Fhermus. “And you! That comment was completely out of line, and if you have an ounce of class, you’ll apologize immediately.”

  “How dare you,” snapped Fhermus. “To tell me what to do! You—”

  But now Tiraud stepped forward, and there was both fury and supplication on his face. “Father, please!” he begged. “I still love her, and must ask you not to speak poorly of her!”

  “Out of my way, Robin,” Si Cwan said angrily. “He insulted my sister!”

  “Your sister isn’t here, and if she were, she’d have laughed in his face. The fact is that he insulted your pride. And you don’t have time to get bogged down in things like this!”

  Si Cwan’s jaw twitched in obvious irritation. “He must apologize.”

  Fhermus started to reply in anger, but then saw the look on Tiraud’s face. “Consider the comment apologized for,” he said, and then his voice roughened, “for the sake of my son’s wishes, if nothing else. We must work together at this time of crisis, rather than in our customary opposition.”

  “What are you going to do?” asked Tiraud.

  “Obviously, we’re going to find him and bring him back,” Si Cwan informed her.

  “His ship is cloaked….”

  Si Cwan waved the comment off as if it were nothing. “He’s not piloting a starship with its nigh-infinite energy sources. A cloak is a substantial drain. He can’t run silent forever. I’ve already alerted every Thallonian vessel out there, whether it’s on routine border patrol, science expedition, or cargo run. None of it matters. They are being pressed into service as a whole with one mission: Find Xyon and return Kalinda here safely.”

  “I, obviously, will do no less,” said Fhermus, drawing himself up. “All vessels at the disposal of the House of Fhermus plus, I suspect, all our allies, will be given similar dictates.”

  “It won’t be enough,” Tiraud said. “All members of the Protectorate should pledge all their available vessels. This is more than an insult against our house or the House of Cwan. This is an insult against the entirety of the New Thallonian Protectorate.”

  “My son is right!” Fhermus announced.

  “No, your son isn’t!” Robin said, and when she saw the surprised and annoyed looks from everyone else in the room, she didn’t back down. “I’m sorry, but he isn’t. These were not the actions of someone who was out to insult the entirety of anything. This is a confused young man who has never been sure of anything that he ever really, truly wanted in his entire life, with one exception…that exception being Kalinda.”

  “It doesn’t matter whether he intended insult or not, Lieutenant Commander,” said Si Cwan in a coldly formal tone. “Insult is what he gave nonetheless, and insult is what has been taken.”

  “Still, there’s no need to overreact. It’s not as if Kalinda is in any danger.”

  “We don’t know that,” said Tiraud sullenly.

  “I think we do.”

  “Prime Minister,” Fhermus said, “would you kindly inform your wife that I am getting a bit tired of her consistently gainsaying my son.”

  “Excuse me, I’m standing right here,” Robin noted. “You can talk directly to me.”

  “What would you have us do, Robin?” asked Si Cwan. He did not sound angry, but Robin suspected it was not without effort. “Just let him go until he decides, of his own free will and in his own good time, to return Kalinda? Do you have any idea how impotent that would make us look?”

  “Since you asked,” she said, considering every word before she spoke it, “I would say that Mackenzie Calhoun should be brought in. Have the rest of the ships stand down, let me inform Calhoun of the situation, and have him attend to it. He knows Xyon, he knows Kalinda, he certainly knows his way around the spaceways. He’s the man most suited to handling this situation delicately.”

  “I know all too well of this Calhoun,” Fhermus said with a sneer, “and very little of what I know centers around his being able to delicately handle anything. He storms into a situation, completely takes it over, and to hell with anyone else’s concerns.”

  “That’s…not entirely inaccurate,” she admitted, “but still…”

  “Lieutenant Commander,” Si Cwan said, maintaining that same formal tone, “you, in your capacity as liaison, are naturally welcome to respond to this matter however you wish. Inform Starfleet, don’t inform Starfleet. It is entirely up to you. If you do bring Calhoun into this and he finds Xyon and Kalinda, and restores her to me while turning Xyon over for punishment for his crimes…so much the better. If one of our people finds him first, then…so much the worse. For Xyon. If you understand my meaning.”

  “Don’t get snarky with me, Prime Minister,” she warned him. “You laughed at my dream. The one that Xyon was in. If I were you, I’d be having myself measured for a chiffon gown about now.”

  Fhermus stared at her. “Prime Minister, what is she talking about?”

  “Nothing of consequence,” said Si Cwan with obvious annoyance. “And I trust the lieutenant commander will not lose sight of what’s important, especially in regards to my sister’s abductor.”

  “Don’t worry, Prime Minister. It’s solidly in my sights.”

  What he was referring to, naturally, was what he’d omitted in his description of the “capture” scenarios.

  If any of Si Cwan’s people found Xyon and Kalinda first, then Kalinda would be returned safe and sound…but Xyon wouldn’t be making the trip back to New Thallon. He, instead, would be executed right there and then. He had only two chances for survival: if he managed to avoid the reach of the angry New Thallonian Protectorate, or if his father found him first. And even with the second instance, his chances of survival were iffy at best, once Mackenzie Calhoun got through with him.

  U.S.S. Excalibur

  i.

  “Captain Calhoun.”

  Mackenzie Calhoun snapped awake in his quarters, rolled off his bed, and hit the floor in a crouch. His head whipped back and forth automatically as he shoved his hair out of his eyes.

  “It’s good to see those catlike reflexes are still functional,” came a softly sarcastic female voice.

  Calhoun blinked but didn’t demand that the cabin’s lights be brought up, partly because of his state of undress, and partly because he was able to make out who was in his cabin…mostly because she was glowing.

  “Morgan,” he moaned, and flopped back onto the bed, arms splayed to either side as if he’d been crucified. “What time is it? And could you turn yourself down, please?”

  Morgan Lefler, aka Morgan Primus, stood three feet away from him and promptly diminished by half the glow emanating from her holographic body that made her easy to see in the dark. Once upon a time, she had been a flesh-and-blood woman, the mother of Robin Lefler. Through a freak accident, her body had died…but her mind had been transferred in total to the computer core of the Excalibur. They’d tried to get her out, but the attempts had proven fruitless. So instead they’d decided to make the best of it by placing holographic circuitry throughout a number of key points in the vessel…including, in a decision that Calhoun had come to regret, his quarters.

  “It’s 0330 hours, Captain.”

  “It’s the middle of the night.”

  “Technically, it’s not.”

  “This for your technically,” he said, tossing off a two-fingered Xenexian gesture th
at had unmistakable meaning if it was being thrown at another Xenexian…or, as was the case here, a computer entity that had full access to every recorded insult in the entirety of the Federation archives.

  She put her hands on her hips and looked at him sourly. “That’s nice, coming from a starship captain.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be nice.”

  “Then you succeeded beyond your wildest hopes.”

  Calhoun rubbed his eyes and forced himself to sit up. “Can I assume,” he said, “due to the lack of alarm bells or the fact that you’re taking up my time with what you no doubt think is witty repartee, that we don’t have an emergency at this particular moment?”

  “That is a safe assumption,” Morgan said.

  “Then what the hell do you want?”

  “We’re having a rendezvous in half an hour. I thought you’d want to be awake for that.”

  “A rendezvous?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Was it planned? Was there a memo sent around that I missed?”

  “No, Captain.”

  “Then what the hell…?”

  “We’re to meet up with Starfleet ETV Lynx. We were informed of it eighty-seven seconds ago. Eighty-eight seconds ago. Eighty-nine seconds ago. Nin—”

  “Knock it off.” When Calhoun was so inclined, he was capable of shaking off sleep in an instant. Upon hearing this, he became exactly that inclined. He sat up straight, the last vestiges of fatigue gone from his face. “An emergency transport vehicle?”

  “Yes, Captain. A high-speed vessel that is utilized by senior Starfleet personnel when a starship is not available—”

  “I know what an ETV is, Morgan.” He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “What’s so blasted important that someone would commandeer an ETV when they could just use subspace communication? Who’s heading out here, anyway?”

  “Admiral Jellico, sir.”

  “Jellico?” He shook his head. “Jellico? Well, that explains that aspect, I guess.”

  “How so, Captain?”