If they could be saved, why couldn’t Candra? he wondered glumly.
There was no answer, no answer at all—just the soft hum of the shuttlecraft’s impulse engines fleeing from the ill-fated planet.
Ten
“It is done,” said Overseer Tejharet, looking fifteen cycles older than he had before freeing Marla Karuw from arrest and inviting her to his chambers. There he had asked her to save the world, when all she could save was a small chunk of it. Now the regent had summoned the overseer to her chambers on the Darzor, where she wanted him to state for the ship’s log that he had appointed her regent with full custodial powers of the overseer. For better or worse, her ragtag fleet would soon be all that was left of Aluwna and a noble civilization, at least temporarily. The ship’s log, not the soon-to-vanish computers and scrolls on the planet, would be the instrument of record.
On her viewscreen, they had both watched the final gathering of the satellites by the fastest of the yachts, the Darzor herself. Now they were finally under way. The last vessel to leave orbit, and they were only a few instants over deadline. Crammed with two hundred passengers and crew, dragging a tail of tethered satellites in the cocoon of a tractor beam, the sleek yacht sped away from Aluwna at half-impulse. That was as slow as they could go and still escape in time.
“How did you do it?” he asked, shaking his head. “How did you choose who would go?”
Marla was taken aback by the question, because Tejharet was the first person who was blunt enough to ask it. “We never announced it officially,” she answered, “but half the lottery selection were children. We’ll have a great many orphaned children to raise as our own. Other choices were made for me by circumstances, such as bringing so many constables, but they fit a general profile of what I wanted. I mean, what I thought would be best for the new Aluwna.”
“And they will be loyal to you,” said the overseer pointedly. “I could quibble with you, Marla, but I could not have done what you did. Nobody else could have devised this plan and seen it through in the time you had. We all owe you a debt of gratitude.”
She smiled wanly. “Many people pitched in to help—another large contingent of those we took. To tell you the truth, I feel more like a mass murderer than a savior.”
“So do I,” he answered, folding his hands before him and looking stooped and tired. “But what else could we do?”
“We’re not saved yet,” said the regent grimly. “Thus far, everything has gone remarkably well, considering. I would like to think it would stay that way, but I’m too much of a realist for that. So I need you to redo your proclamation making me regent one more time—for the ship’s log.”
He blinked in surprise. “That is why you succeed—you think ahead. Should I do it orally?”
“No, I’ve written it out this time,” said Marla Karuw, bringing up the document on one of her screens. “It’s verbatim what you said in the Summer Palace. Don’t worry, I’m sure there will come a time when you can reclaim your throne.”
“I doubt it,” said Tejharet stoically. “You have no intentions of ever returning power to me and the monarchy. You’ve always hated the hereditary system—found it unfair and regressive. Yes, it is. Of course, it’s also a tradition that has seen us through eons of peace and prosperity, but that never made much difference to you. Here you’ve struggled for decades to revolutionize our society, and an outside force has done it for you.”
Marla was speechless for a moment, unsure whether he was complaining or stating the simple truth. This was a man she had once loved, despite their differences, so she found it hard to hate him—even if she hated what he represented.
“I’m playing it by ear,” she said honestly. “In truth, I would like things to be so simple that I could just walk away from this responsibility, but I doubt that will happen for a long time.”
“Let me sign your document,” said the overseer quietly. “I don’t wish to stand in your way, and I am indebted to you—we all are. Just don’t give me reason to oppose you.”
Marla Karuw clenched her teeth together and said nothing as he entered an electronic signature and once again turned over all his power to her. When he was done, she asked, “Where is your wife?”
The overseer shrugged. “Jenoset left in a royal shuttlecraft with her new husband and her old husband.”
“She’s taken a third mate?” asked the regent with mild amusement. “Now?”
“The new one is very high-bred, I understand,” answered the overseer. “Perhaps now she’ll deign to have a child. You know, this document I signed doesn’t mean anything to her.”
“I’ll deal with that when the time comes,” answered the regent. “Thank you again for speaking to the people in this time of need. They respect you a great deal.”
“That doesn’t mean much when ninety percent of them will be dead by morning,” he answered hoarsely. “I think I need some sleep, and you, too. Perhaps we’ll share a meal in the morning, like the old days. We’ll both need some company then.”
“I would like that,” said Marla Karuw. “Good night.”
“Good night.” The overseer shuffled toward the door, stopped, and looked back. “You will keep the ones in the satellites alive, won’t you?”
“I’m trying my best,” she answered.
Left alone, under way on their journey, and with no immediate concerns, Marla decided to take the overseer’s advice and get some sleep. She curled up on the couch in the library and was out in less than a heartbeat.
* * *
What seemed like a moment later, someone shook Marla Karuw’s shoulder, dragging her out of a heavy sleep. “Regent Karuw, please wake up!” urged a youthful voice.
She blinked wearily and focused on the face of her young assistant, Komplum. From his grim expression, she knew that he hadn’t woken her for a trivial reason.
“What is it?” she asked, sitting up and swinging her legs over the edge of the couch.
“They need you on the bridge,” replied Komplum. “The captain says it’s urgent.”
Without even wiping the sleepiness from her eyes, Karuw charged out of the library and down the corridor. Komplum hurried to keep up with her.
“What time is it?” she asked.
“Six units after midnight.”
“What!” she snapped. “How could you let me sleep so long?”
He stammered, “Well, I, uh . . . you never gave me any orders to wake you. I didn’t even know you were asleep, and the captain tried to hail you.”
“I’m sorry,” she answered. “When you spend a few cycles in a cell, you’re used to getting lots of sleep.”
They charged onto the sumptuous bridge of the yacht, which looked more like a parlor on the esplanade than a ship’s command center to Marla’s eye. From the grim look on Captain Uzel’s face, she knew they were in some kind of serious trouble. Every station was manned by a crew member, which was also unusual.
“What is it?” she asked.
“The main impulse engine is failing,” he answered grimly.
“We didn’t anticipate the drain it would be on the reactor to maintain the tractor beam—and power the satellites—for this long. The tractor beam is for short haul at these speeds.”
“Now you tell me,” she muttered. “How fast are we going?”
“We’re at a dead stop,” he answered gravely. “That was the only way to recharge the deuterium tanks. I thought our momentum would carry us, but we had to make some course adjustments for a meteor shower. Our shields don’t extend all the way out to the satellites, so we have to be careful. I could have awakened the overseer, but I assumed you would want to know first. At any rate, we’re in serious trouble.”
“What’s our position?” she asked, leaning over the shoulder of the conn officer. “How close are we to the safety zone?”
“Still two units of travel time, and that is approximately when the Genesis Wave is due to hit.” The captain gulped and looked ashen as he uttered those words
. “That’s not the worst of it—the other two yachts report similar problems. Only the freighters are going to make it unscathed.”
“Do we have any options?” asked Karuw. “Any at all?”
The captain winced as he answered, “Yes, one option. We can shed the satellites.”
“And kill seven hundred thousand people,” she rasped. “Are you insane?”
Captain Uzel bristled at that suggestion. “If our ship goes down, they’ll die anyway.”
“What about cutting power to the satellites and letting them run off the plasma packs?”
“We’ve already done that,” answered the captain grimly.
The regent exploded in anger, shouting, “Without my authorization, you cut the power?”
“I’m the captain of the Darzor,” he answered imperiously.
“My first allegiance is to this vessel. We had to rest and recharge the impulse engine before we could continue.”
Marla took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you’ve done all you can, Captain. Listen, can we tow the satellites without the tractor beam?”
The gray-haired master shook his head. “Not at the speed we’d have to travel. We’ll have to go at full impulse just to make it out of here in time. I’m sorry, Regent, but unless we cut loose the satellites, we’re all going to die. And that goes for the other two yachts as well.”
“Two million people.” The regent scrunched her eyes shut and almost screamed in anguish. “I suppose you put out a distress signal?”
“Oh, yes, some time ago,” he answered. “But who is going to be cruising around out here in the path of the Genesis Wave? Nobody.” The captain turned to his engineering station and asked, “What’s the reactor status now? Can we go?”
“Not with the added drain on the engine,” answered the crewman.
Captain Uzel nodded gravely. “Make ready to sever tethers and power lines. I’m sorry, Your Regency, but as captain of this ship, I have the authority to do anything it takes to save it.”
Marla Karuw hung her head, feeling utterly defeated.
“Captain,” said the tactical officer puzzledly, “I’m receiving a hail.”
“Which one of our ships?”
“Not one of ours,” answered the officer in amazement. “It’s the Doghjey, a Klingon vessel.”
“Klingon?” asked Marla, hope rising in her breast. “Put them onscreen.”
Everyone stopped what they were doing—almost stopped breathing—as they turned their attention to the small screen above the bow viewport. When the image blinked on, they saw the fearsome visage of a Klingon warrior, with prominent head ridges, dusky skin, and shoulders broader than a landing pad.
“I am Ambassador Worf, aboard a Klingon vessel but representing the United Federation of Planets,” he said in a thunderous voice. “Do you need assistance?”
“Do we ever,” breathed Marla Karuw. “I am Regent Marla Karuw of Aluwna, and we’ve evacuated eight million people from our planet, but they’re stored in the pattern buffers of our transporter satellites. Our main impulse engine is failing, and two other ships are in distress.”
“We have them on our sensors,” said the big Klingon. “I have a fleet of seven warships, and we are at your disposal. We can accommodate your vessels and the satellites you are towing.”
Marla felt a chill rush up and down her spine at this news, and crew members behind her cheered. Her voice was a croak as she added, “But the Genesis Wave—”
“We’re tracking it as well,” said the Klingon ambassador. “We can tow you at warp speed if you can maintain your tractor beams. You will not need to use your engines for propulsion.”
Marla Karuw lowered her head and sniffed back tears, unable to speak. Captain Uzel stepped to her side and said, “We’ll send you coordinates . . . where our other ships will be waiting for us. What should we do to help?”
“Leave everything to us,” answered the big Klingon. “Are you going to return to Aluwna after the wave has passed?”
“Yes,” the captain answered.
“We will go with you,” promised the ambassador. “I regret we were unable to come sooner and do more. Worf out.”
As soon as the transmission ended, Marla turned to the captain and said, “Get power back to the satellites.”
“Yes, Regent,” answered the captain cheerfully. “I always heard that Klingons were rude and unpleasant, but I think they’re wonderful.”
“Me, too,” she said with a wide grin. “Klingons are beautiful.”
PART TWO
AFTERMATH
Eleven
In the central square of the Summer Palace, thousands of Aluwnans joined hands, lifted their arms toward the darkening sky, and sang spiritual songs. Hundreds more recited poetry, played musical instruments, and danced tearfully. Artists sketched pictures of the gathering, trying to capture this moment of togetherness for a posterity they would never see. Naysayers, who deemed the evacuation a great hoax, halted their speeches in midsentence. Even the rioters and those driven insane with fear stopped their pointless destruction of the palace to watch and wait. Parents hugged their children and tried to comfort them, ignoring the questions they couldn’t answer. The wind seemed to stop blowing, and the boughs of the trees stood perfectly still as well. The end was at hand.
When the ground trembled, the screaming and praying began in earnest. Believers raised their voices to the heavens, begging forgiveness and mercy. But neither one was forthcoming. In an instant, the sky turned from blue-black storm clouds into a hellish blaze of vivid purple and green, like a festered wound. The horizon quivered and undulated, and distant mountains exploded with barbarous fury, shooting monstrous waves of ash into the sky. Like a wildfire set loose in a parched forest, a neon green curtain of fire roared across the plains, bearing down on the city. As geysers erupted, the stone and earth liquefied into a churning quagmire that consumed the flailing people and crumbling buildings alike. As fiery green embers scorched the air, the planet of Aluwna turned into a morass of sludge, which throbbed and quaked like a living thing.
Abruptly, the subspace video feed from Aluwna ended, leaving Worf gasping for air as if he had been there for the conflagration. He turned to see his hosts on the Darzor, Regent Karuw and Overseer Tejharet, who gripped each other to keep from collapsing. All over the bridge of the royal vessel there was silence, punctuated by an occasional whimper from a crew member. The Klingon felt like roaring with outrage at this mindless destruction, but all he could do was maintain his stiff-backed composure. There was certainly nothing he could say to alleviate the horror and helplessness they all felt.
“Every power in the Alpha Quadrant is looking for the ones who unleashed this force,” said Worf. “We will find them and destroy them.”
“Precious good that will do Aluwna now,” rasped Marla Karuw, slumping into the seat at an empty console.
“I hope you’re right, Ambassador,” said Overseer Tejharet, who was more given to good manners and graciousness than his regent. “What could possibly be the point of this devastation?”
Choosing his words carefully, Worf answered, “The original Genesis project was a rapid way to terraform a planet. One Starfleet theory is that this wave is designed to prepare a planet for invasion.”
“Invasion?” Marla Karuw gaped at him, her six eyebrows arching upward. “Are you saying that we’re going to have to fight invaders to win back our world? Aluwnans are not fighters.”
“Klingons are,” he assured her. “But perhaps you would prefer to relocate.”
Overseer Tejharet shook his head and said, “We’re not empire builders or colonizers. The only world we’ve ever known is Aluwna. We want to return and rebuild.” He looked at his regent for confirmation, and the tight-lipped woman nodded forcefully.
“We’ll do more than that,” vowed Regent Karuw. “We’ll restore Aluwna to the way it was. We’ve got specimens of almost all plant and animal life stored in
the transporter buffers, plus we have living specimens on one of our ships. We happen to be experts at genetics, and we can do our own terraforming.”
Worf granted her a slight smile. “I was hoping you would say that. I would like to visit one of these Genesis planets, and win it back for its rightful inhabitants.”
“When can we return?” asked Karuw bluntly. “The sooner the better, because we can’t maintain the pattern buffers in our satellites indefinitely. We need to get back there soon.”
The Klingon nodded solemnly. “We shall send probes into your solar system to see what we can learn. As I understand it, the most devastating effects of the wave—wholesale molecular changes—occur once and are over.”
“What do you mean by ‘wholesale molecular changes’?” asked Tejharet worriedly.
“What you saw on your video feed,” answered Worf. “This wave causes more than destruction—it takes the existing matter and converts it into something new. Even the sun in your solar system has been changed. I have not yet seen these effects firsthand, but we will see them together.”
“There’s no time to waste,” insisted Marla Karuw.
“Very well.” The Klingon touched the com medallion on his sash and said, “Worf to Captain Kralenk of the Doghjey.”
“Kralenk here,” came the reply. “Ambassador, I was just about to contact you. We’ve received a message from Starfleet saying the source of the Genesis Force has been discovered and neutralized. We don’t have any other information, but Starfleet says we should proceed with extreme caution into any areas affected.”
“Send probes into the Aluwnan solar system,” replied Worf. “If it is safe, we will proceed as soon as possible. Worf out.” He turned to his hosts and said, “That is good news.”
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