The Face of the Unknown

by Christopher L. Bennett

  * * *

  Rather than ask them to entrust their molecules to an alien transporter system, Nisu invited the delegation from the Enterprise to take the scenic route, traveling to the nearest full-sized “world module” (as she called it) through the Web’s conduit shuttle system. Kirk accepted gladly, leaving Sulu in command of the ship while Scott concentrated on further repairs. He had brought Spock and Bailey with him, along with Uhura, wishing for an interpreter he could rely on, as opposed to one who might have her own motives for selective translation. Security guards Nored and Prescott completed the party. They accompanied the Kisaja and her team aboard the docking station, where most of the armed contingent broke off to return to their duties. Nisu and two other ­protectors—the blue, tailed male and a reptilian humanoid—led the Enterprise party into a cylindrical shuttle that looked more like a flying craft than the subway-type car Kirk was ­expecting.

  Indeed, once they were secured, the craft launched from its berth and flew through the hangar’s interior atmosphere until it passed through a permeable force field into the wide conduit beyond, which stretched out ahead to the vanishing point. Once they were within the conduit, the shuttle began accelerating rapidly. If not for its inertial dampers, the occupants would probably have passed out from the g-forces. Overhead, beyond the conduit walls, the clouds could be seen moving past at a rate that was already astonishing and still increasing.

  “The conduit interior is a vacuum,” Nisu explained. “Its coils magnetically accelerate and guide us. It is an easier, safer way to reach distant world modules than pushing through Cherela’s dense atmosphere at hypersonic speeds.”

  “How do you prevent the exterior pressure from crushing the conduit?” Spock asked.

  “There are multiple layers of shielding and structural bracing between this shaft and the outside. The view you see is actually a projection on the inner walls.” She gave a faint smile. “As you learned in your encounter with Commander Balok, we are skilled at illusion.”

  “Why do you use these tubes at all,” Kirk asked, “instead of relying on transporters?”

  Nisu’s smile widened. “We have no shortage of time here in the Web. No need for haste. And the Bogosrin get annoyed when their fellow First don’t stop to appreciate the fruit of their labors.”

  “Bogosrin,” Bailey echoed. “I’ve met some of them before, seen a bit of what they could do. But I never imagined anything on this scale.”

  “This is their home star system. The Web is the work of millennia, made possible by their skill and their generosity.”

  Spock raised a brow. “Then the devastated planet in Cherela’s Trojan point . . .”

  “Was their original home,” Nisu affirmed. “But they had grown beyond it before the end came.”

  “What exactly caused that end?” Kirk asked.

  “We will discuss that in time. For now, look ahead.”

  They had traveled unexpectedly far in mere minutes. Ahead, Kirk could see a world module already nearly filling his forward field of view. Even so, it was still some distance away. At over eleven hundred kilometers across, approaching it was like descending toward the surface of a highly oblate planetoid, except that the upper half was a transparent dome. From this angle, roughly level with the “equator” of the module, he couldn’t see much within.

  As they closed in on the world module, the shuttle braked hard, so that by the time they passed through the force curtain into the habitat within, they were flying slower than the speed of sound. Now the shuttle’s wings extended and it became a true aerial craft. Below them was a vast ocean dotted with craggy islands, each one of which was lush with yellow-green vegetation. Above, the dome provided light, but either the entire surface amplified the faint light from above or its internal light sources were so numerous and distant that they faded into an indistinct glow blending with and brightening the cloudscape beyond. So it was like flying over the surface of a planet, except that it was far more flat, with the ocean seeming to stretch to infinity. On Earth, the horizon was typically around four to five kilometers away for an observer on the ground; here it was more than two hundred times that. He could see the shapes of the habitat’s great islands stretching clear to the point where they disappeared into atmospheric haze, much like the world modules outside.

  “This module re-creates the pelagic environment of the planet Syletir,” Nisu said. “The world modules of the Web re-create environments from many different worlds. This is one that no longer exists as a living planet. The life you see below you is all that survives of Syletir.”

  Spock raised a brow. “Are there other worlds represented within the Web that no longer survive in the ­galaxy outside?”

  Nisu’s gaze held Spock’s, unwavering. “Yes. All of them.”

  “It’s some sort of . . . living museum?” Uhura asked.

  “No,” the chief protector told her. “It is a sanctuary.”

  The shuttle was now descending toward a sizeable land mass in the center of the module’s ocean. They neared a high, hemicylindrical cliff of granite, atop which a city came into view, its high white towers glistening in the light from above. It was one of the most beautiful vistas Kirk had ever seen, and he could understand why the Web dwellers had chosen to show it off to their visitors.

  Their destination was a large complex of towers perched vertiginously atop the narrow crag of land at one end of the cliff. The shuttle passed through one more pressure curtain to alight in a hangar within one of the broader, lower towers; the force field was presumably there to protect the interior from the strong winds at this altitude. Once the shuttle had touched down, Kirk rose and followed Nisu and the others to the exit. He felt lighter on his feet, realizing the gravity here was reduced; the shuttle’s internal gravity must have adjusted to this module’s local gravity so gradually that he hadn’t even noticed his weight changing.

  Outside the shuttle, several dignitaries stood waiting. Three appeared to hold special prominence, judging from their matching clothing adornments and the way the others held back behind them. Of the three, one was a male Fesarian, tan-skinned and a few centimeters taller than Balok, with bushy black eyebrows. His bald pate was ringed with a golden headdress more elaborate than Balok’s captain’s circlet and matching his golden robes. Next to him was a member of the blue, tailed species, a female whose short magenta hair came to a sharp widow’s peak. She was adorned in a lightweight gold-and-white tunic cut much like a tennis dress, leaving her long, lissome arms and legs exposed. The third dignitary was large and somewhat ursine with slim, conical horns rising vertically from the head. From Bailey’s description, Kirk presumed it was a Bogosrin. He wore simpler, more utilitarian attire including a multipouched vest, mostly brown with only a few bits of gold piping.

  Nisu stepped between the two parties. “Captain James Kirk, Commander Spock, Lieutenant Nyota Uhura, Lieutenant Anne Nored, and Ensign Louis Prescott of the United Star Ship Enterprise, and Ambassador David Bailey of the United Federation of Planets, allow me to introduce the Triumvirate of the First Federation.” She introduced the Fesarian male first. “This is Tirak of the Linnik people, the great benefactors of the First.” Kirk traded a look with Spock and Bailey. Linnik—at last they had a real name for Balok’s species. Nisu went on to introduce the large Bogosrin male as Lekur Zan, and the tailed female turned out to be Aranow of the Tessegri species. The others around them were members of the Council of the First, the legislative body comprising representatives from every module. The councillors present were mostly local, from this and adjacent world modules. But the triumvirs were the joint chief executives of the entire Web, beamed here from nearly halfway around Cherela for this meeting.

  “It’s a privilege,” Aranow said to Kirk, “to be a triumvir now, when newcomers arrive. When they arrive in peace. That hasn’t occurred in my lifetime. In the lifetime of anyone here. It’s most exciting.” She spoke quickly,
seeming to outpace her own thoughts, and her tail twitched like that of a hungry house cat. Kirk wondered if it was merely the excitement of the moment or if she was always like this.

  “The privilege is ours, Triumvir Aranow,” Kirk told her. “What your peoples have built here is . . . well, it’s possibly the most incredible find in Federation history. We never dreamed that something this extraordinary, or so many thriving civilizations, existed in First Federation space.”

  Aranow exchanged a look with the other triumvirs. “We have reasons for our secrecy, Captain,” Triumvir Tirak said. Despite his boyish build, the Linnik’s attitude and the lines of his patrician face suggested considerable age. “As you should know, having brought the Dassik directly to our doorstep.”

  Kirk met Tirak’s gaze evenly. The Linnik stared back with a poise and solemnity that belied his juvenile features. “With respect, Triumvir, we detected no sign of Dassik pursuit when we traveled to this system. The Dassik were already searching this space, hunting you down. They would have reached this system eventually. And even if they did somehow follow us, I assure you they have no knowledge that . . . this . . . is down here,” he finished, gesturing all around them.

  “You discovered it,” Tirak countered.

  “But only after descending beneath the magnetic belts,” Spock pointed out, “and only thanks to the exceptional sensitivity of our communications officer’s hearing.” Uhura flashed Spock a smile, which of course he did not acknowledge.

  Aranow stepped between Kirk and Tirak, breaking the tension. “We know you had no ill intent,” she said. “And you’re here now. So we should welcome you.”

  Lekur Zan nodded. “True. We don’t get to show the place off much. You want to continue the tour? There’s a lot more to see.”

  The triumvirs and their Council escort led the Enterprise party out of the hangar and across a skywalk that gave them a glorious view of the island continent on their right and the endless ocean on their left. Overhead, a thunderstorm was now raging in Cherela’s perpetual clouds, but here under the dome, it was clear and placid. Kirk could see a cloud bank hovering over the distant mountains in the continent’s interior, but its flickers of lightning were mere sparks in comparison to the atmospheric turmoil outside. He wondered what the air circulation patterns were like inside a vast, domed habitat like this.

  “I take it from your earlier remarks, Triumvir Tirak,” Spock said, “that the Dassik are connected to the reasons for your secretive existence?”

  “They are the entire cause of it,” the elderly Linnik replied. “We, the Tessegri, the Bogosrin, the Kisaja, and others . . . all of us were once their slave races. They spread across this sector, conquering worlds, and they would tolerate no rivals to their power.”

  “Like us,” Aranow said. “My people, the Tessegri, were born to wander. To travel. Seek. Acquire. It took us to the stars. And we met the Bogosrin. They were great builders. Covered their world in vast cities. Built great stations in orbit. Carved them out of asteroids.”

  “We were older than they were, actually,” Lekur Zan said in a low-pitched drawl. “But we hadn’t discovered warp drive. We just built our own worlds here.”

  “And we wanted what they had,” Aranow said. “Their technology. Their resources. They were glad to trade. But we got pushy. Greedy. It led to conflict.”

  “A long war,” Lekur put in. “We were winning.”

  Aranow threw the big triumvir an amused glare. “Both sides were losing. Didn’t do anyone any good. Especially when the Dassik came.” Her edgy intensity became subdued. “They were more brutal than anything we could imagine. More ruthless. Our wars were play to them.”

  “But the Linnik came too,” Lekur went on. “They were small, timid, easy to overlook, but that gave them freedom to move around and whisper in our ears. They convinced us that to survive, we had to make peace with each other. Once we stood together against the Dassik, we learned that we could accomplish more together than apart.”

  “Is that why the Dassik refer to you as ‘betrayers’?” Spock asked Tirak, who nodded. “That would imply some particular relationship or obligation which they believe you to have violated. And I cannot help but note the similarity of names.”

  “We were their first slaves,” the Linnik triumvir explained. “Their name is from our language. It means ‘predator’—a label they embraced with pride. They subordinated my ancestors for centuries, forced them to invent new technologies to help them conquer other worlds. Our ‘betrayal’ was only that we refused to be the loyal slaves and passive victims they needed us to be.”

  “They brought us together in resistance,” Aranow went on. “We the travelers, Bogosrin the builders, Kisaja the listeners. And the Linnik behind it all, whispering, guiding, uniting us in hope. Together, we grew stronger. Held our own.”

  “But the Dassik only grew more ruthless in reaction,” Tirak said gravely. “When the Tessegri, the Bogosrin, and their allies proved unyielding, the Dassik formed a terrible resolve to devastate all their worlds. To render the sector lifeless, as an example to all others who would resist. And they would use my people’s gifts to do it. We decided we could not stand for this.”

  “But what could you do?” Bailey asked. “I mean, you could talk to people, foment resistance, but you’re so . . .”

  “Small? Helpless? Yes . . . Aranow and Lekur are kind, but to our shame, we tolerated the Dassik’s predations for far too long before we finally began to resist. We allowed our physical weakness to be an excuse for inaction. Only later did we realize that we had the advantages of intelligence, patience . . . and deviousness. We could plot in secret, work behind the Dassik’s backs to build a safe refuge for the peoples they planned to exterminate.”

  “Cherela,” Kirk interpreted.

  “Yes,” Tirak replied. “By good fortune, the Bogosrin provided the opportunity we needed. A race of skilled engineers and habitat builders, with a Jovian planet close by, sharing their temperate orbit.”

  “My kind had already built a few outposts here in Cherela’s atmosphere,” Lekur said. “For research, and just for the challenge. We like challenges.” The Bogosrin face couldn’t exactly smile, but Kirk saw a gleam in Lekur’s eye that he knew very well. He imagined Scotty would hit it off marvelously with this fellow. “But they were primitive and crude next to what you see around you. We needed the genius of the Linnik to design all this, as much as they needed our strength and, let’s face it, our location.”

  “We worked in secret for years,” Tirak said, “as the Dassik began their campaign of extermination. The Bogosrin built what we designed, working deep beneath Cherela’s clouds—enduring conditions harsher than the rest of us could survive to create new homes where we could all thrive. The Tessegri organized escape routes for refugees and smuggled them here unseen. The Kisaja used their mental gifts to pass information to the resistance and to obscure the Dassik’s perception of our efforts.”

  “We saved as many as we could,” Lekur rumbled. “But far too few.” The big Bogosrin shrugged. “We’d only built a few world modules when the Dassik finally swarmed through this system, blew up everything else we’d built, and bombed our homeworld to rubble.”

  “We . . . saw that,” Kirk said. “We’re very sorry.”

  Lekur waved it off. “Long time ago. It was just one of our homes anyway, by that time. And just one of the countless homes the Dassik wiped out. Once they’d left the system, we went right to work mining the moons and asteroids to build more modules, bigger ones, for the rest of the refugees. Giving them a place they could hide, a place they’d be safe from the Dassik.”

  “And the rest of us were grateful for it,” Nisu said. “Because the Dassik would not rest until all the civilizations in our alliance were exterminated. In their minds, our tolerance, our inclusiveness, was an abomination. To them, it was the natural order of things that all species should battle
to dominate or destroy one another.”

  “That’s why we thought they were gone,” Aranow said. “After we were wiped out—or they thought we were—they turned on each other. We picked up signals. Lots of fighting. Lots of fighting for a long time. Generations. Then less and less, then nothing. We thought they all killed each other off. Or weakened each other, until someone else could finish them off.”

  “So in time,” Tirak said, “we felt safe to travel in space again. We turned the ships and weapons they left behind into tools for our own defense. Even the Dassik’s own fearsome reputation came to serve us, a face we could present to outsiders to frighten off those who meant us harm. In these ways, we were able to reclaim the territory the Dassik had taken from us.”

  “A territory full of dead worlds,” Bailey replied. “What is there left to defend?”

  “Our birthright,” the Linnik triumvir replied with intensity in his rough tenor voice. “Others may have come to take this territory, but it was ours to begin with. We were the first peoples in this space. The purpose of our great alliance is to preserve that legacy—a Federation of the First.”

  Kirk and the others traded a look. At least that was one minor mystery solved. It seemed natural enough that a displaced people would cling to their territorial birthright as a symbol of identity.

  “And yet you remain here,” Kirk said as the skywalk ended and they passed into the next tower. “Hidden inside this gas giant. If the threat is gone, why haven’t you come out into the galaxy? Repopulated your territory?”

  “Too many of our old worlds are still too poisoned, too damaged, to be livable for millennia to come,” Lekur said. “That was how thorough the Dassik were.”

  “And there are other threats,” Aranow said. “Other powers came in. Other wars were waged. Kalandans. Shenchorig. Promellians.”

  “And other refugees fleeing from their wars,” said Nisu. “The First Federation could offer them something they could find nowhere else in the galaxy: sanctuary. Invisibility.”