“We wouldn’t normally get tapped for so deep a mission, but after the war, we’re really short of pilots,” she explained. “So here Friend and I are, alone together in space, searching for an uninhabited but fertile planet so we can get off that toxic rock. Start new lives. I tried to explain to Friend about how great it feels to walk on soft grass in your bare feet, but he didn’t quite get it, I think.”
Another journal entry described a severe bout of homesickness. A third had the girl, who finally identified herself as Jaldark, describing how she and Friend had navigated a treacherous asteroid belt unscathed.
“It was the most amazing sensation, to be linked with him while we did that!” Jaldark enthused, practically bouncing up and down in her chair. “I just love Friend so much . He’s the most wonderful ship. I’m so glad I’m bonded with him for the rest of my life. He seems to be so much easier to get along with, temperamentally, than the trainer ships, but maybe that’s because they are constantly bonding and breaking bond with new pilots. Maybe they never get to settle into being themselves. Poor things.”
The grin—the wonderful, wide, endearing grin—crossed her face again. “I guess I’m just the luckiest girl in the universe.”
But you weren’t, Jaldark, Duffy thought, feeling slightly sick. And sure enough, on the next tape, the trouble had already begun. Jaldark looked thinner and paler. There were deep circles under the green eyes, and she wasn’t smiling.
“Something’s wrong,” she told her recorded journal without preamble. “Friend can sense it, but I’m not telling him any more than I have to in order to maintain function. He knows we’re turning around and heading back toward Omearan space at our top speed, but I don’t know that we’ll make it in time. I hate lying to him like this.”
She swallowed hard, licked dry lips, and continued. “I think it’s the implants. I’ve passed the rejection window, so it can’t be that. They’d never have let me go on a deep-space recon mission if there was a possibility that they’d be rejected. But they’re failing somehow. I can’t get sustenance from Friend anymore.”
Jaldark pressed long, thin fingers to her unusually deep temples. Twin implants pulsed beneath the skin at her touch.
“I have these terrible headaches. And the arm sheathes—they ache whenever we join.” She looked dreadfully unhappy. “That means that, whenever we join, I’m in a lot of pain. So, of course, I come up with excuses not to join as often. Friend hasn’t said anything much, but I know his feelings are hurt. He’s the last person— well, thing—I’d ever want to hurt, and I just hate it that this is happening!”
Tears welled in her eyes, trickled down her freckled cheeks. She wiped at them angrily. The gesture afforded Duffy a good look at what Jaldark called the “arm sheathes.” They were three conical tubes that had been implanted on both lower arms. The spikes on the chair that Duffy and the others had first assumed were torture devices, and later thought were evidence of Borg technology, were links with the ship’s computer. They created a way for a lively young woman to be close to a machine that had transcended its hardware and become a friend; a way to attain the sustenance that would keep Jaldark alive.
There was nothing sinister about the spikes anymore. There was nothing sinister about anything now—only sorrow.
Still crying, Jaldark reached and turned off the recording device. But there was one more entry. Kieran didn’t want to see it, but, along with the others, he couldn’t look away.
Jaldark looked awful. She had lost a lot of weight and was obviously very ill. She was silent at first, but in the background they could all clearly hear “Friend’s” voice: slightly metallic, but filled with concern.
“Jaldark?” Friend called. “Please respond. Are you angry with me? Is there something wrong? I am an Omearan Starsearcher, a top-of-the-line vessel with extensive and flexible programming. I am certain there is something I can do to help you. Please respond, Jaldark. Please respond.”
“Do we have to watch the rest of this, Captain?” Surprised, Duffy tore his gaze from the haggard girl on the screen to look at the speaker. It was Corsi, the last person aboard the da Vinci he would have expected to have a problem watching this recording. She seemed to have a skin thicker than Pattie’s shell. And she was doing her best to look annoyed, not pained; irritated at time wasted, not about to cry. She hid it well, but he could see it, and he suspected everyone else could.
It seemed like Core-Breach Corsi had a heart after all.
“I think we owe it to Jaldark and Friend, yes,” said Gold. “It’s a little bit like sitting shiva.” He stabbed a forefinger at the screen, where Jaldark was burying her face in her hands and sobbing openly as Friend’s queries became more plaintive and frantic.
“This is a brave little girl here, who never had the chance to grow up into the brave woman she ought to have been. We may be the only ones who see what she went through, how courageously she handled it. We have to bear witness.” Gold’s brown eyes were serious. “We crawl over corpses in alien vessels all the time, take their dead ships, examine their bodies. I hope we never forget that they were once people. She’s reminding us. Friend is reminding us.”
Corsi said nothing, only leaned back in her seat and fixed her gaze on the table.
Jaldark lifted her head and stared into the viewscreen. She was shaking. Her hair, once long and lustrous, was dull and stringy. The implants in her temple, which had once pulsed to a steady, slow rhythm beneath the skin, were flashing erratically.
“I don’t think I have much longer,” she said in a voice thick with tears. In the background, Friend continued to call for her. “The pain is so bad I can hardly stand it.” She bit her lip and closed her eyes as, Duffy guessed, another wave of pain racked her skeletal frame. “I think I’m going to die. But I can handle that. It’s Friend I’m worried about. He’s supposed to autodestruct if anything happens to me. They said Starsearchers aren’t designed to function on their own. They told us the ships need an Omearan mind to link with in order to make ethical decisions. They warned us that they could be dangerous without a pilot. But I don’t believe that. I don’t think Friend would hurt anybody, unless they hurt him first.”
She took a long, shuddering breath and leaned into the recorder. “I can’t kill Friend, I just can’t. That would be the most selfish act I think I could possibly perform. I know I’m supposed to, but I won’t do it. I won’t. I’ve deactivated the autodestruct mechanism. Friend won’t be able to reengage it on his own. He’s going to live, even if . . . even if I don’t.”
She smiled a little, a taut, pained smile. “That’s what friends do, isn’t it? They help each other. If anybody finds this, please take care of Friend. Send him home. The coordinates are in the computer. Help him find a new pilot. He’s going to be so lost without . . . me to take care . . .”
Jaldark whimpered. More than a scream, that tiny sound rent Duffy’s heart. Watching this was torture. Jaldark’s chest hitched. Her free hand went up to press tightly at a flashing implant. When she was able to speak again, it was through tightly gritted teeth.
“Tell him I’m sorry. Tell him I love him. Tell him it will be all right. He’s just got to be brave.”
She began to gasp, as if her body could no longer absorb oxygen. Her brilliant eyes rolled back in her head, and the recording device slipped from a suddenly limp hand to bounce on the floor. There it lay, recording only the base of the chair until it ran out of bytes, while, out of sight, Jaldark quietly gasped until she made no more sounds, and the plaintive voice of Friend kept demanding, “Jaldark, please respond!”
La Forge reached over and wordlessly turned off the screen. For a long moment, despite the urgency of the situation, no one spoke.
“Rest in peace,” said Gold solemnly.
“Do you see?” said 110 softly. “The ship— Friend—has lost its only companion. Jaldark told us that the ships are supposed to autodestruct if anything happens to the pilot, but Friend does not have that option. It was no
t designed to be alone. It does not know what to do. Like its pilot, it is a young vessel, with little experience, and it is terrified. We must not destroy it. We must help it. And I volunteer to be linked with it as Jaldark was.”
Gold looked at him sharply. “110, forgive me if I step on your toes here, but—you’ve been deliberately avoiding such an intimate link with anyone. That’s why you’re putting off going back to Bynaus. Assuming I will even let you, which is not an assumption you ought to be making, why do you want to do this? You barely survived your last encounter with that ship’s computer. We’ve got trained specialists on the way right now. They’ll figure something out.”
110 looked solemn. “Because, Captain Gold, I am already partially linked to Friend. When I attempted to access the computer when we first boarded, I engaged some sort of circuit with it. It has downloaded a link to my brain, but a very inefficient one. Bynar brains are already constructed to link smoothly with computers, and contain a great deal of information. I am the only one capable of establishing communication that could convince it that we are no threat. It is up to me to stop the ship.”
“We’ve already stopped the ship.”
Slowly, 110 shook his large head. “No, sir, we have not.”
At that moment, Gold’s combadge chirped. “McAllan to Captain Gold. The alien ship is powering up. It’s left the planet surface and is heading right for us.”
CHAPTER
6
Repairs are complete. All systems fully operational. Jaldark is not on board. Accessing search parameters. Searching planet surface . . . Jaldark is not present on the planet surface. Alien vessel in orbit about planet. Unable to penetrate shields for search. Conclusion: Jaldark has been taken by the alien vessel.
Action required: Jaldark must be recovered immediately.
Jaldark, I am coming. I am coming, my Friend. I will not let them harm you.
Gold was still in a solemn mood from the tragic recording he had just seen as the turbolift doors hissed open. But once he stepped on the bridge, and saw the expressions on the bridge crew, he put his pity aside.
It was tragic that Jaldark had died alone, in pain. And he sympathized with the ship’s loss, if it was, as 110 kept insisting, sentient and capable of emotion. But that didn’t mean he was willing to make the ship feel better by letting it blast the da Vinci to bits.
“Shields up. Red alert,” he snapped. He took his seat and gazed at the image on the viewscreen.
It seemed impossible, but there it was. That ship had been badly damaged when it crashed into the planet, and they’d believed that they had completely knocked out its weapons systems. And yet it looked like they hadn’t even scratched the thing. It was, as McAllan had said, heading straight for them, and if Gold imagined that the ship was seething with deadly intent and aching for revenge, he knew he wasn’t guilty of anthropomorphizing.
“Status report,” he demanded.
“One minute, the vessel was dead; the next, it’s completely repaired and heading right for us,” said Wong. “We can’t tell for certain, of course, but I would guess its weapons systems are intact.”
At that moment, a green bolt of energy narrowly missed them.
“I’d say you’re right,” said Gold. “But that was obviously a warning shot. If that ship wanted to hit us, it would hit us. Open a hailing frequency. Attention, alien vessel. This is Captain David Gold of the U.S.S. da Vinci . We mean you no harm. Let’s open a dialogue.”
At once, a metallic voice echoed throughout the bridge. “Omearan Starsearcher 7445 to the da Vinci . You have my pilot. Return her at once, unharmed. Then we will open a dialogue.”
Dear God, thought Gold, he doesn’t know she’s dead.
“Captain,” said Gomez softly, “I don’t think Friend will respond too happily if we beam that body over.”
“Agreed,” said Gold. “Suggestions?”
“Let me attempt to link with it,” said 110 at once.
“110,” said Gold wearily, “that ship might just as soon crisp you as talk to you.”
110 lifted his head and regarded Gold evenly. “As we—as I have told you, Captain Gold, I am already linked with it, though it is not a two-way communication. Its pain is my pain. The only way I will lose that pain is if I can speak with it. And that is the only way Friend will ever accept what has happened to Jaldark. The news must be given to him gently, in a way he can understand. Otherwise, he will attack in anger. When he crashed into the planet—it was not an accident, Captain. He was in despair, and could not engage his self-destruct mechanism.” He winced a little. “Please. This is the only way.”
“110,” Geordi said gently, “there’s no guarantee that you will be able to form a proper link with the computer.”
The little Bynar smiled at that. “There is, as you humans like to say, only one way to find out.”
Geordi and Gold exchanged glances. Gold reached a decision. “Gold to Dr. Lense. Would it be possible to adjust 110’s brain and body in order to render him able to link with the ship?”
“I think so. If you’d wanted to do this with a human, the answer would be no, but the Bynar brains are much better candidates for such a link. And, judging by his brain-wave patterns, I’d say that there seems to be some kind of connection established between them already. It would take some surgery, but I—”
“110, get to sickbay right now,” ordered Gold. At once, 110 scampered to obey. “Wong, reestablish link. Attention, Omearan Starsearcher 7445. We would like to send an ambassador to your command center to speak with you.”
“Return my pilot. Then she and I will speak with your ambassador.”
Gold took a deep breath. Time for a little white lie. “Your pilot is unwell.” It was true. Dead was about as unwell as one could get. “She is currently in our sickbay.” Also true. “We have boarded you previously.”
“I remember.” The metallic voice was angry now. “When you kidnapped Jaldark.”
“We brought her to our ship, yes. But while we were aboard you, while you were inactive, you established a link with one of my crew.”
Silence. “Yes,” said the ship, haltingly. “I remember.”
“We think we can further adjust him so that he may link with you. We can explain everything to you most efficiently in that fashion.”
A long silence. Gold felt sweat gather on his brow. He let this ship take its time.
“I will permit such a contact,” said the ship after what felt like an eternity. Gold briefly closed his eyes in relief. “You should be aware that your crewmember will be vulnerable. If I do not like what I hear, I will not hesitate to kill him.”
Was it a bluff, or the truth? Either way, it seemed as though this was something 110 was intent on doing. And, much as Gold hated to admit it, it seemed as if it was their only hope. The Enterprise herself would have a hard time fighting an opponent that was virtually indestructible. And the little da Vinci was certainly not equipped to handle it.
“We are explorers, not warriors,” said Gold. “We have no intention of harming you. You will realize that once you link with my crewmember.”
“There is no deception possible in the link,” agreed the ship. “All your plans will be revealed.”
“We have nothing to hide,” Gold declared.
“Then you have nothing to fear.” Abruptly, the ship terminated the transmission.
Gold sank back in his chair, debating. He thought about contacting Starfleet and telling them to cancel the arrival of the Enterprise and the Lexington . Gold now knew the vessel wasn’t a Borg ship, and there was a chance that it wouldn’t even prove hostile. What was it Jaldark had said? That she was certain Friend wouldn’t hurt anyone unless someone hurt him first.
But if 110 couldn’t convince the ship—Friend— that Jaldark had already been dead for weeks before the da Vinci found her, then Gold imagined the vessel would consider itself grievously hurt. They’d need the Enterprise and the Lexington then. Hell, they might need every vessel i
n the fleet if the repaired ship went on a rampage again. It had done enough damage while still repairing itself. At full strength . . .
Gold chuckled a little. His father had had a wise saying that he would always trot out when David would start fretting about things that might happen. “Don’t go borrowing trouble,” he would say. And Gold realized that’s exactly what he was doing.
They had the tricorder recordings Jaldark herself had made. They had the body, which was in an advanced stage of decay. And they had 110. If these weren’t enough to convince the ship, then they’d just have to deal with the consequences.
“Lense to Gold.”
“Go ahead.”
“110 is tolerating the implants for the moment, but I don’t know how effective they’ll be. I also don’t know how long it will be before his body starts rejecting them. I’m sorry, sir, but it’s the best I can do.”
“Then, as always, Elizabeth, your best is good enough for me. 110, how do you feel?”
“The implants are . . . uncomfortable, Captain. But it is a necessary pain. Faulwell has given me Jaldark’s tricorder. I hope to be able to interface with both it and Friend’s central computer system.”
“Good luck, 110.”
“Thank you, Captain Gold. It has been an honor to serve you.”
Gold didn’t like the way that sounded. He didn’t like it at all. But there was not a single thing he could do. It was all up to the Bynar now.
He only hoped the little guy was not planning to go out in a blaze of glory.
* * *
When 110 materialized in the command center of Friend, part of him felt like he was coming home. Odd, since the last time he had been aboard the vessel it had attacked and nearly killed him. He stood for a moment in the command center of the sentient ship, looking around. There was no dull, blood-colored hue. Instead, Friend had given him lighting that was quite comfortable to his eyes and enabled him to see perfectly. The entire scene was much less sinister than it had been when the away team had beamed over earlier.
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