Creative Couplings Book 1

by Glenn Hauman

  “Sadly, I doubt it, Captain. Khor has let the heat of his blood affect his reason. He is thinking with his heart, not his head. As such, my son has lost sight of the duties he must perform in his marriage ceremony. Therefore, it is my duty to remind him.”

  “Lantar, can Khor pick up a blade?”

  “Of course he can.”

  “And he has gone through an Age of Ascension ritual?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Got poked with painsticks? Traveled the River of Blood?”

  “Captain, is there a point you are trying to make?”

  “Is your son not a warrior, capable of making his own decisions?”

  “It is not merely his decision.”

  “Granted. There’s his par’machkai to consi—”

  “Captain, you make me tired. You are playing an endgame with a king and no other pieces.”

  “All things considered, that’s okay, Ambassador. I’m not looking to win—I’m looking to reach a draw among all parties. You don’t need to bring your adversaries to their knees, just to their senses.”

  “There will be no compromise on the part of the empire, Captain.”

  “The empire? With all respect, what do they have to do with it?”

  “The wedding will take place, and it will take place in accordance with Klingon customs. If it does not, we will take it as an insult to the Klingon Empire, and we will be forced to sever our ties with you.”

  Gold sat upright. “Ambassador, I believe you’re taking this a bit too far.”

  “Make no mistake, Captain. I will not brook an insult to my House or my empire. Do not take advantage of my kindness, and never mistake it for weakness.” He stood up abruptly. “Here is my list. Now I must go and remind my son of his obligations. I expect that you will accommodate all of my concerns, for I am sure you are cognizant of what will occur if you don’t. Feel free to use my office for the remainder of the day.” And with that he left.

  Gold sat there, trying to resolve what had just been thrust in front of him. His position had become even more intractable since the earlier discussions, and he didn’t think that was possible. The list included a full Klingon wedding, right down to the preliminary evaluations and tests of strength for the bride. No mention was to be made of the bride’s religion—in fact, no human religious component at all. He wanted Rachel out entirely. And Gold himself would also have to undergo the full Kal’hayh rituals—including the trials of fasting, blood, pain, sacrifice, anguish, and death.

  Perfect. Maybe he could get the death thing out of the way early.

  The door chimed. Of course. “Come in, Esther. Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.”

  The technicians stood at the door, slightly puzzled. “May we retrieve our tools now?”

  “Oh. Sure.” Gold quietly considered how Starfleet would take the news that the Klingons were willing to break treaties over a wedding he was supposed to perform. Something less drastic than the punishment for visiting Talos IV, but not by much…

  Esther poked her head inside the door. “Grandpa Gold?”

  “There you are. I was hoping you’d eloped.”

  “Uhh, is this a bad time?”

  “No, come in. This is as good a time as any.”

  “Oh, good. I came up with the list you wanted, but I wasn’t able to keep it under ten items.”

  He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “How many?”

  “Twenty-seven.”

  “Twenty-seven?”

  “If I combine a few of them, I can probably get it down to eighteen or nineteen, depending on how you—”

  Gold held up a hand. “Esther, I am having a very hard day here. People are bringing me grief upon grief. Your fiancé is frustrated, your grandmother is furious, and your father-in-law is ready to tear up treaties, and for all I know is willing to go to war over all this. My headache can probably be heard from orbit. And my food is getting cold.”

  “Wow.” She paused. “I’ve heard of women that empires go to war over, but I never thought I’d be one. My shoulder blades are too bony.”

  “Look, Esther. You have always tried to be a delight to your old grandpapa. Please, give me some good news. A bright side to all of this. Anything.”

  “Anything?”

  “Yes, anything.”

  “Well…” Her voice trailed off. “You’re going to be a great-grandfather again.”

  Captain Gold looked at Esther. She nodded.

  “Esther, that wasn’t quite the good news I had in mind.”

  Chapter

  9

  “All done on my end,” Alex called from his desk. “They’re locked out for good this time. What about yours?”

  “Nearly there,” Fabian said, typing into his console. “A few of the safety protocols were off—nothing major, probably just a holdover from a previous exercise in here. I’m resetting them now.” He clicked off a few more of the protocols, then started the testing sequence to make sure they would be back at normal levels when switched back on. But both he and Alex glanced up when they heard what sounded like screaming.

  “Something’s wrong!” Alex was already out of his chair and racing back to the public part of the ship, and Fabian had to sprint to catch up. A minute later they were back on the Hyperion, where sirens were already blaring again.

  “Tev, what’s going on?” Fabian demanded over his comlink. Fortunately, his teammate showed his usual efficiency in responding.

  “The lift is malfunctioning,” was his reply. “I believe Cadet Martin is still inside.”

  “Crap.” This time Fabian led the way, with Sparks right behind him. They barreled down the hall to the lift doors and ordered the computer to open them.

  “This turbolift is presently out of service,” the computer replied in that calm voice that always made Fabian want to reprogram it with an ax. “It has been quarantined, and is about to undergo emergency decontamination.”

  “Damn!” Fabian bashed his hand against the door, but of course that didn’t help. “We’ve got to get that kid out of there!”

  “What’s wrong?” Alex asked, following Fabian as he turned back down the hallway, heading for the nearest access panel. “Decontamination?”

  “Somebody’s tricked the lift into thinking it’s contaminated.” Fabian removed the panel and crouching down to crawl inside. Fortunately, Kendra had clearly remembered one of their old gripes about early ship designs—“only a mouse could fit back behind those walls, and mice can’t repair wiring!”—and the Hyperion was riddled with access ports and panels.

  “So it’ll shut down until cleaned?”

  “Worse.” The word came out as more of a grunt, but that couldn’t be helped, since he was currently crawling around a corner and back toward the lift tube. “The lift cleans itself. It releases nitrogen into the compartment, to kill any bacteria, then uses microwaves to make sure nothing’s left.”

  “They’ll be killed!”

  “That’s the idea. Freeze or cook any potential dangers. Of course, there are about half a dozen blocks to keep the lift from doing that without express authorization and with a live body in the lift, but clearly someone’s bypassed those.” He did actually growl this time, as he stepped out into the wider space before the emergency lift access door and straightened up. “When I get my hands on whoever did this—”

  “It’s not a problem, Fabian,” Alex said with that annoying calm, “and you’re wasting your time. Computer, are safety protocols engaged?”

  Fabian stopped in mid-crawl. I’m an idiot, he thought. This is a holosuite. It’ll keep everyone safe. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll just turn it off. No problem.

  Then the computer said the last thing Fabian wanted to hear. “Safety protocols disengaged.”

  Quickly, Alex said, “Computer, reengage safety protocols, authorization Sparks alpha-three-bravo.”

  “Access denied.”

  “This is very not good,” Fabian muttered. “Computer, shut down Hyperion progra
m.”

  “Access denied.”

  He tapped his combadge. “Stevens to Tev.”

  “This is—”

  “Shut down the holosuite, now.”

  “Why should I—?”

  Fabian didn’t have time for Tev’s arrogance. “If you don’t, Ben will die!”

  That got Tev’s attention. “Computer, shut down Hyperion program.”

  “Access denied.”

  “I beg your pardon? Computer, don’t you know who I am?”

  Now Fabian had even less time for Tev’s arrogance. “We’ve got to shut this thing down the hard way. I need to get to the lift capsule and manually override the process,” Fabian explained, tugging on the manual release lever. “Let’s hope the computer will still talk to me about routine stuff. Computer, what is the lift capsule’s present location, relative to my own?”

  “The lift capsule is twenty-point-four-five meters below and one-point-three-one meters ahead of your present location,” the computer replied immediately, to Fabian’s relief.

  “Okay, it’s below us,” Alex said to Fabian. “Which is good.”

  “Quite a ways below,” Fabian said. “At least one level down. And there’s no time to climb down and then back around to the lift tube again. The problem is, I’m going to need to keep hold of the ladder, which means basically tapping the system one-handed.”

  “Why can’t we use those?” Alex pointed, and Fabian almost laughed when he looked. Kendra, you think of everything, he thought, admiring the safety harnesses hanging just inside the door. The two of them quickly slid harnesses on and connected their safety lines to anchor points set in the wall. Then they pulled the door open and peered inside. Sure enough, the lift was visible below them. A good ways below them. Fabian made sure the tether was secure, since he no longer could depend on the holosuite’s safety protocols to protect him, played out what he thought would be enough line, took a deep breath, and jumped.

  “Oof!” Fabian hit the lift and remembered to bend his knees, for all the good that did. His legs were going to burn tomorrow. He’d guessed right with the line, though, and had just enough slack to move around comfortably. Almost immediately after he landed, he heard pounding from inside the lift.

  “Somebody, help!” It was Ben.

  “Hang on!” Fabe called back, then cursed as he realized the boy couldn’t hear him. “Computer, deactivate cloaking on myself and Professor Sparks,” he said instinctively.

  “Cloaking deactivated,” the computer replied.

  “Will wonders never cease. Ben, can you hear me?”

  “Yes! Help!”

  “Hang on!” Fabian jumped a little when Alex landed on the roof behind him, then turned back to locating the release lever for the lift’s access panel.

  “What can I do?” Alex asked him, and Fabian gestured him back so that the instructor wasn’t standing on the panel itself.

  “Give me a hand here,” he replied, wrestling with the lever. “Once we get this open, I’ll drag him out and hand him to you, then try to shut down the sequence.” But the lever wasn’t budging.

  “I think it’s locked,” Alex said, gesturing at the small red light at the lever’s base.

  “Damn!” It made sense, of course. With a possible contaminant inside, the lift had been locked down—including the emergency hatch. He should have realized that. “Okay, change of plans. You find the lift computer access port, which should be over there somewhere.” He gestured toward the far corner. “Tap into it and shut down the process. I’ll try to short out this circuit here, see if I can disconnect this lock and get the panel open. Whoever gets the door open first, wins.”

  They set to work, both trying to ignore Ben’s pounding and shouting from inside. Fabian had the easier task in that the lever’s locking mechanism was right at hand. But the lock was supposed to be foolproof—the idea was that the computer wouldn’t lock down unless absolutely necessary, so if it did the lock should stay closed—and Kendra had done everything she could to make it that way. Severing its connection to the computer didn’t work, because it had several backup switches that ran through the lift structure itself. Removing its power supply wasn’t an option, because doing that would have required cutting out a section of the lift, and if he’d had that option he simply would have cut a hole and been done with it. For once, Fabian wished Kendra wasn’t so damned thorough.

  Alex kept him posted on his progress, which wasn’t much better. He’d gotten into the access port, and was trying to reprogram the lift system, overriding its current initiative. But Kendra had set up the code to prevent unauthorized alteration, and she knew enough about illegal programming to cover most of the obvious entry points. There’s never a Bynar around when you need one, Fabian thought dolefully.

  Meanwhile, Ben was still hollering from inside, and the computer was counting down. “Forty-five seconds to decontamination.”

  Then something occurred to Fabian. “I’m an idiot,” he muttered, “again.” He settled back on his haunches for a second. There was no way he was going to break the locking code in time. And the lift walls were too strong and too thick for him to cut through. But what about the lock itself? The actual physical latching mechanism was only a few inches wide, and he could clearly see where it hooked into the door frame.

  “Computer, give me a phaser,” he demanded, and a phaser materialized in his hand. Again, Fabian cursed the luck that allowed him to do pretty much whatever he wanted inside the holosuite—except turn it off.

  He set the phaser to a narrow, high-intensity beam, full disintegrate, and aimed at the lock. It took two seconds to cut through the tough material, but finally there was a clank as the lock flange fell to the roof, and a faint pop as the lock released its hold, reducing some of the pressure on the access panel.

  “Got it!” Fabian shouted, setting down the phaser and yanking on the lever. “How’s your end?”

  “I’ve gotten past the first levels,” Alex called back. “The computer’s recognizing my authorization, finally. Now I’ve just got to track down the decon activation code, halt the process, and prevent it from resending. Give me a minute.”

  Fabian listened for a second, and heard the faint computerized voice counting down. “Twenty seconds to decontamination.”

  “We haven’t got a minute,” he called, and slammed the lever down. “I’m going in!” Hauling up on the panel, he pulled it aside, revealing the lift compartment below. There was Ben, his face pale and shiny with sweat, one hand raised as if about to bang on the wall again.

  “Thank God!” the student said as he looked up at Fabian.

  “Later,” Fabian said. “Grab my hand!” But Ben was short and skinny, and couldn’t jump high enough to reach him. After two tries, Fabian growled and lowered himself into the compartment.

  “Okay, give me your foot,” he told the terrified youth, and boosted him up toward the access panel. “Now grab the edge and haul yourself up.” Ben did as he was told, though his arms shook so much he could barely lever himself out of the lift. “Good, now move aside.” Fabian leaped up, and caught the edge of the opening with one hand. “Damn, I need to stop snacking,” he muttered as he grabbed on with his other hand and started pulling himself up. Around him, he could hear the computer still.

  “Now starting decontamination process.”

  Suddenly the lift compartment was filled with a hissing sound, and Fabian felt cold wash over him. Fear gave him added strength, and he swung one leg out of the lift, then the other, and collapsed, panting, on its roof.

  “Damn, that was close,” he muttered to himself, ignoring the boy who stood quaking nearby. Too close. In fact, he realized as he caught his breath, he couldn’t feel his left leg.

  “Got it!” Alex called out, and below them Fabian heard the hissing stop. A moment later the instructor appeared beside him. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ll live,” Fabian admitted, sitting up, “but I think I’ve got some frostbite, and possibly some nerve
damage in one leg.” He glanced over at Ben. “You okay?”

  The boy nodded. “Yeah, thanks. I wouldn’t have been, though. What the hell happened?”

  “I don’t know,” Fabian admitted, accepting Alex’s hand and hauling himself to his feet. “But we’re going to find out. This is way beyond a prank, and I’m sure as hell not laughing.”

  An hour later, however, the two of them were still stumped. They had helped Ben get back out of the lift tube, and then had returned to their office to look into the matter, switching back to “ghost mode” in order to step outside the Hyperion and across the holosuite. Alex had used the holosuite’s emergency medkit to patch Fabian up, but it was only a quick fix—he was going to need to see a real doctor soon to avoid permanent damage to that leg. But for now he was more concerned with finding out who had done this, and how—and why they couldn’t turn the holosuite off or reengage the safety protocols.

  “It can’t be one of the students,” Alex insisted. “I’d locked them all out just before the lift malfunctioned. They’ve got no access to the system.”

  “Sure, but what if one of them had programmed it in advance?” Fabian said. “They modified the codes before the lockout, so it was already in place. They can’t do anything else, maybe, but that one slipped past.”

  But Alex shook his head. “When I locked them out, I also ordered the computer to kill any pending processes they’d started.” He half-grinned, the first sign of amusement Fabian had seen on him. “Trust me, I know how students think, and how to get around them.”

  “Okay, fair enough.” Fabian absently massaged his left leg, which was still numb. “But if it didn’t come from them, and we know it wasn’t one of us, that only leaves one option.”

  They both nodded. If the reprogramming hadn’t been done from inside, it could only have come from outside. Which meant that someone was actively trying to sabotage the exercise.

  “Whoever it is, they’ve done a pretty good job so far.”