To Reign in Hell: The Exile of Khan Noonien Singh

by Greg Cox

  Khan.

  Marla clicked off her tricorder. She cast a yearning look at the door of the hut, but Khan was nowhere to be seen. The sun had fallen outside, leaving Marla to dictate her notes by the light of a single tallow candle. She sat alone on the modest bed she shared with Khan, waiting for her brand-new husband to return from his conference with Dr. Hawkins.

  Not exactly the wedding night I envisioned, Marla thought, sighing. She wasn’t bitter or resentful, though; she knew that Khan was only seeing to his responsibilities as leader. It would be the same if I were married to a Starfleet admiral.

  None of which made her feel any less lonely—and impatient for Khan’s return.

  A cool breeze rustled the curtains over the door and Marla shivered upon the bed. Her wedding dress had been neatly folded and tucked away at the bottom of storage locker, so she waited for Khan wearing only her veil and a clingy negligee made of the same shimmering golden mesh. A floral perfume, extracted with effort from the native blooms, scented her skin, which she had scrubbed clean with a sponge and a bowl of hot water. Her ivory ring gleamed in the candlelight, and Marla took a moment to admire the elegant wedding band. That Khan had crafted the ring himself only made her cherish it more.

  All over the camp, she knew, happy couples were busy celebrating their nuptials in the privacy of their own huts. And here I am, all dressed up and nowhere to go.

  She heard a familiar tread outside. Her heart pounded in excitement as a gloved hand reached into the hut and drew back the curtain. Khan stepped inside, still wearing the golden honeycombed outfit he had donned for their wedding. He appeared lost in thought, a concerned expression upon his face. Specks of dried blood dotted his jacket. From the bull’s autopsy, Marla guessed; no doubt Khan had assisted Hawkins with the procedure.

  Her heart went out to him. She couldn’t imagine a worse way to celebrate one’s wedding. Dictating log entries by candlelight sounded positively romantic in comparison.

  “Khan?” she asked him gently. “Is everything all right?”

  His expression lifted somewhat as he laid eyes on Marla and the slender golden filaments draped over her body. “Ah, my beauteous bride!” he exclaimed, beaming proudly at his wife. “Forgive me for leaving you alone on our wedding night.”

  “That’s all right,” she assured him. Rising from the bed, she laid her tricorder on top of her locker before joining Khan by the door. “I understand. I have to share you with your people.”

  Khan drew the curtains shut behind them, cutting them off from the world outside. “My attention, perhaps,” he admitted, “but never my heart.” He wrapped his strong arms around her. “That belongs to you alone.”

  His words thrilled Marla beyond all measure. It was worth waiting all these hours just to hear him say that, she thought happily. His body still felt tense, however, and she sensed that he had not yet shed the cares of the day. “Was it bad?” she asked him. “The autopsy.”

  He shrugged. “Disturbing,” he conceded. “Dr. Hawkins dissected the beast’s brain and found severe damage to the cerebral cortex. He theorizes that larval versions of the eel nest within the brains of the bison, emerging only when they are fully developed or when their hosts expire. An insidious arrangement that results in brain damage to the hosts, causing the sort of erratic behavior we observed today.” His hand dropped instinctively to the phaser on his hip. “Hawkins suspects that the bull would have died eventually even if I hadn’t killed it.”

  Marla shuddered in his grasp. “How horrible!”

  “Perhaps,” Khan said, “but nature is often cruel and savage. In any event, there is no indication that this parasitic relationship poses any threat to the colony, provided we take care not to consume the brains of any infected beasts.”

  He shook his head. “But this is not a fit topic for so auspicious an evening.” He gazed down at Marla with loving eyes and stroked her hair possessively. “We will speak no more of this tonight.”

  Marla was just as eager to change the subject. Wordlessly, she helped Khan undress, feasting her eyes on his superhuman physique. But as her fingers traced the claw marks upon his back, Khan scowled and pulled away; to his mind, Marla knew, the scars were a gross betrayal of the physical and mental perfection upon which he prided himself.

  She saw it differently. “In the past,” she whispered, gazing on the wounds without revulsion, “Earth’s greatest carpetmakers would take care to include a deliberate imperfection in even their most exquisite designs, which only made their rugs all the more authentic and valuable.” She circled around him and softly kissed the claw marks, one by one. To her, the marks proved that he was flesh and blood, just like her. They reminded her of their common mortality, not to mention of the sacrifices he had made for them all. “These scars only make me love you more.”

  Khan permitted the kisses, then turned to face her. His scowl dissolved into a look of pride. “You are as wise as you are lovely,” he declared, lifting her veil in order to gaze into her adoring eyes. “Truly, a woman worth traveling across the galaxy to find.”

  He scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bed, where his hungry fingers peeled away the golden negligee, which suddenly felt constricting and cumbersome. “In naked beauty more adorned, more lovely than Pandora,” he recited above her.

  As she gasped out loud, unconcerned whether the entire camp heard her, she couldn’t help remembering the first time she and Khan had made love, back in her cluttered quarters aboard the Enterprise. That had been a rough, almost violent encounter in which Khan had driven her to ecstasy in order to secure her allegience. Tonight, by contrast, she truly felt that Khan cared about her just as much as she worshipped him.

  “You have no regrets?” he asked as they came together in the candlelight. The rich orange glow of Ceti Alpha VI filtered through the curtains over the door, throwing an almost supernatural radiance over their passion.

  “I wouldn’t change a thing,” Marla answered.

  13

  A FEW NIGHTS LATER

  “Tell me more of these Klingons,” Khan said.

  He and Marla rested side by side upon the pitched roof of their hut, enjoying the starry night sky. Above them, Ceti Alpha VI glowed brightly in the glittering firmament, out-shining its celestial neighbors with its constant orange brilliance.

  “As you wish,” his wife agreed readily. Khan knew she enjoyed entertaining him with tales of mankind’s exploration of space—an entire era of human achievement that he had quite literally slept through. “To be honest, I’ve always been secretly fascinated by the Klingons, even though that wasn’t something I ever wanted to admit, given the current political situation.” Her brown eyes gleamed with enthusiasm as she warmed to her subject. “They’re magnificent warriors, with a rich and glorious culture. Ruthless, yes, but with their own distinctive code of honor.” She smiled warmly at Khan. “Not unlike a certain Sikh I know.”

  Khan placed his arm around her shoulders, savoring a rare peaceful moment. I would have liked to have met a Klingon, he mused. He could not help wondering what might have happened had a Klingon vessel discovered the Botany Bay instead of Kirk’s ship. I suspect I would have fared well among such a people….

  His eyes searched the heavens, where, according to Marla, a vast assortment of alien species and civilizations populated the quadrant: Vulcans, Romulans, Andorians, Gorns, Thasians, and many others. He contemplated the myriad stars overhead. Who knew what exotic worlds orbited those distant suns?

  An unexpected flicker caught his eye, and he stared in amazement as Ceti Alpha VI exploded in the night sky.

  The familiar orange orb flared more brilliantly than ever before, so that, for a moment, the night seemed transformed into day. Before Khan’s startled eyes, the planet’s crust came apart, exposing its volcanic mantle and white-hot core. Seconds later, the core itself ignited into a starburst of glowing fragments spreading outward in all directions.

  Khan’s heart stood still. He heard Marl
a gasp beside him and knew that she had also witnessed the shocking spectacle. She grabbed for her tricorder, rushing to record the event for posterity. His mind raced frantically, searching for an explanation, even as he struggled to grasp the possible consequences. This bodes ill, he realized at once. But to what degree? And how soon?

  “Khan,” Marla whispered anxiously. “What does this mean?”

  Ceti Alpha VI, he recalled, was only twenty-one million kilometers away. Was it even possible that Ceti Alpha V might remain untouched by its neighbor’s destruction?

  The planet’s wildlife gave him his first answer.

  From the grasslands beyond the camp’s gates, a cacophony of howls and roars and squeals disturbed the night, as though everything living thing within earshot was crying out in alarm. The clamor awoke the entire colony, causing startled men and women to come pouring out of their huts. Khan spotted Parvati Rao and her husband, Armando Rodriguez, among others.

  The earthquake struck next. A thunderous rumbling, like the churning of mighty turbines, drowned out the squawks of the agitated animals, and the building beneath Khan and Marla began to shake violently. Khan’s memory instantly flashed back to the great quake that had struck central India in 1993; he and Joaquin had been literally buried alive during that disaster, and thousands of their fellow countrymen had perished. An agonizing sense of déjà vu filled his heart with dread.

  No, he thought. Not again. Not here.

  He and Marla were in a precarious situation, he realized, as the thatched roof trembled beneath their feet. Reacting swiftly, he sprang to the ground, landing unevenly upon the quivering soil. “Jump!” he called out to Marla, holding out his arms to catch her. “Hurry!”

  She obeyed without hesitation. Khan breathed a sigh of relief as she landed safely within his grasp. He supported her weight easily, thanks to his incomparable strength. Hesitant to place her down upon the unstable ground, he cradled her against his muscular chest as he looked about in dismay.

  Pandemonium engulfed the camp. Men and women stumbled about randomly, shouting in confusion. Unable to maintain their balance, many colonists fell to the ground, where they tried without success to climb back onto their feet. Distraught husbands held on tightly to the pregnant mates, desperate to protect their nascent families. Khan saw Harulf Ericsson grab on to his wife, Karyn, only seconds before she tumbled backward into a blazing campfire.

  The tremors kept on coming, increasing in intensity, and New Chandigarh started to come apart. Watchtowers swayed like reeds in the wind, and the tall wire fence came crashing to the ground, trapping unlucky colonists beneath the metal mesh and cruel barbed wire. “Over there!” Khan shouted to the nearest people still standing. Reluctantly putting Marla down, he pointed urgently at the pinned victims. “Help them!”

  Even the thermoconcrete plaster supporting the wooden huts proved unable to withstand the colossal jolts. Cracks spread like forked lightning through the rough, gray walls. Thatched roofs tumbled inward, only moments before the huts themselves collapsed into rubble. Khan prayed that all his people had fled the huts before they caved in, but feared that some poor souls were now buried beneath the heavy debris.

  “Oh my God!” Marla gasped, clinging to Khan for support. Her tricorder was strapped to her shoulder.

  “Your Excellency!” Joaquin appeared at his side, Suzette Ling following closely behind him. The Israeli bodyguard was shirtless and barefoot, while his brand-new wife wore only a fraying cotton nightshirt. Khan was impressed to see that, despite the uproar, Ling had retained the presence of mind to grab a flashlight, while Joaquin himself clutched an M-16 rifle. “What are your commands?” he asked.

  Khan scanned the scene, even as the relentless tremors threatened to topple him. If only the shaking would stop long enough for him to get his bearings! His eyes searched for sanctuary and quickly zeroed in on the solid-steel cargo carriers, which appeared to be enduring the quake better than the flimsy huts.

  “The watchtowers!” he ordered. “Start herding the people into the towers.” It would be a tight squeeze, but they might all fit, provided all the stores inside the converted carriers were tossed out. “Follow me!” he shouted to the nearest colonists, and began leading them toward the northwest tower. “Into the cargo bays!”

  He had only taken a few steps, however, when the ground split apart before his eyes. An enormous fissure opened in the earth, cutting them off from the relative safety of the tower. Campfires and debris tumbled into the yawning chasm, which was rapidly joined by yet more gaps in the earths. Bottomless cracks snaked across the well-trod floor of the camp. Khan watched helplessly as Ali Rahman, a former member of his secret police, disappeared into a newborn cleft, his horrified screams swallowed along with his life.

  Khan froze, staggered by the extent of the unfolding catastrophe. He kept waiting for the tremors to subside, but the situation seemed to be getting worse by the second, as though he had somehow invited the wrath of a vengeful god.

  Then the volcanoes erupted.

  A tremendous noise, like a thousand cannons going off at once, struck like a tidal wave, all but deafening Khan and the others. Aghast, he spun around to face the north, where the distant mountain range loomed above the horizon. His eyes widened in horror, and his jaw dropped open, as he saw great plumes of ash and lava spewing from the shattered caps of the formerly snowcapped peaks. Streaks of purple lightning added to the satanic glow of the pyroclastic clouds. From where Khan stood, his arms wrapped protectively around Marla, the entire range appeared to be erupting. Ash blackened the sky, blotting out the stars.

  Seconds later, the first lava bomb hit the camp. “Watch out!” Parvati Rao shouted out, a heartbeat before a blob of semimolten rock came plunging out of the sky. The bomb smashed into both Parvati and Rodriguez, killing them instantly.

  “No!” Marla shrieked, as her closest friend was obliterated right before her eyes. “This can’t be happening!”

  But it is, Khan thought. Whatever destroyed Ceti Alpha VI is lashing out at us as well. For all he knew, the planet’s very orbit was shifting….

  More bombs rained down on the camp, like the American missiles that had destroyed his fortress in Chandigarh three hundred years ago. Blocks of ruptured granite, some as large as cornerstones, slammed into the ground all around Khan, forming craters in the trembling soil. Red-hot globules set fallen thatchwork and timbers aflame. Thick black smoke added to the chaos, making it difficult to see or even to breathe.

  He heard a thudding impact nearby, and an anguished voice cry out. “Liam!” Peering through the smoke, he dimly glimpsed the scorched body of MacPherson, half-buried beneath a splatter of molten rock. The smell of burning flesh assaulted his nostrils, and he heard Marla gag at the acrid stench. A viscous stream of lava flowed off the corpse, igniting the strewn remains of a thatched roof, and a wall of fire rose between Khan and MacPherson, obscuring his view of the dead scientist—another survivor of the Eugenics Wars who would not live to see the Khanate reborn.

  Damn you, Kirk, he thought angrily. Why didn’t you warn me this planet was unstable?

  Khan realized that there was no safety here, not even within the metal cargo carriers. The smoke and flames were spreading too fast. We must flee, he thought, but to where?

  “The caves,” he blurted out loud, remembering the murky underground lair of the sabertooths. Khan had heard of individuals who had survived deadly volcanic eruptions by hiding in caves or dungeons. Perhaps deep beneath the earth he and his people could find temporary refuge from the convulsions wracking Ceti Alpha V.

  It was their only hope.

  “The caves!” he yelled to Joaquin, his voice hoarse from the combined smoke and ash. He cupped a hand over his mouth to protect his lungs. “The den of the sabertooths! We must get the people there!”

  Joaquin nodded in understanding, and began herding their party toward the front gate of the compound, now collapsed onto the ground along with the rest of the wire fence. He snat
ched up a torch from one of the burning huts, to add to the light provided by his wife’s flashlight. The other colonists followed his example before braving the ash-shrouded darkness beyond New Chandigarh.

  Khan grabbed on to one fleeing colonist, Daniel Katzel, and ordered him to stay behind and round up any other survivors. “Tell everyone to meet at the cavern on the ridge.” He gestured emphatically toward the east. “We shall be waiting.”

  Assuming we make it there alive.

  Khan held on to Marla’s hand as they raced out of the disintegrating compound, their boots trampling over the fallen gate. A wave of despair washed over Khan as he saw fields of ripening crops ablaze, the neatly plowed rows thrown into disarray by the violent contortions of the earth. Before his anguished gaze, lava bombs set fire to acres of wheat, destroying in moments the work of months.

  He shook his head once before looking away. They would mourn the crops later, if they survived. Famine is the least of my concerns, he thought morosely.

  The tremors finally began to subside, at least until the inevitable aftershocks, but gaping chasms and spreading brushfires forced Khan and the others to zigzag through the devastated fields before they reached the open veldt, which also was also being ravaged by the earthquake and volcanoes. Khan gripped his phaser in one hand while holding on to Marla with the other, but, for once, there appeared to be no danger from the sabertooths and other beasts; the planet’s predators were too busy fleeing the ongoing cataclysm to bother with a few, equally panicked humans.

  Their torchlit trek through the carnage was like some ghastly fever dream, punctuated by booming explosions and fragmentary glimpses of utter havoc and desolation. Bison, rodents, and other creatures lay dead throughout the sundered plains, their fresh carcasses going ignored by scavengers. A megacondor crashed to the ground, its mighty wings weighed down by a coating of heavy ash. Lush groves of trees were now a collection of jagged stumps and broken timbers; Khan skirted the wrecked copses as much as possible, for fearing of falling tree trunks.