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The Rise and Fall of Khan Noonien Singh

Page 5

by Greg Cox


  The timer beeped.

  “That’s it,” he announced. “You’re done for the day.”

  “Thank God!” She switched off the treadmill and unhooked the harness. “My feet are killing me. They’re not used to supporting all that weight, you know.”

  “Don’t remind me.” His feet always felt positively raw when he got on the treadmill. He traded places with Zoe and strapped himself in. Back in orbit around Earth, he had once jogged in place for a full ninety minutes, just so he could say that he had literally run around the entire planet. He flicked the treadmill on. It felt as if he was walking on a bed of nails.

  And he still had an hour to go!

  “Oh, my poor little piggies.” She peeled off her socks and sneakers. Floating free, she massaged her aching feet. “Hey, Skipper, since we’re finally opening up and all, mind if I ask you a personal question?”

  “Not about Area 51, I hope.”

  “Nah, although don’t think for a minute that I’ve given up on that angle.” She wiped off her sweaty face and limbs with a towel. “This is just for my own curiosity. Off the record.”

  He started to pick up the pace. “Okay, shoot.”

  “What’s the story with you and Fontana?”

  Whoa! He missed a step but quickly recovered. “What do you mean? We’re just colleagues, that’s all.”

  Once again, that wasn’t entirely the truth. He and Alice had conducted a discreet affair more than a year ago, shortly after his divorce, but had broken things off before it could get in the way of the mission. Ever since the Lisa Nowak scandal of 2007, NASA had frowned on excessive “fraternization” between astronauts. No way would they have both been assigned to this mission had the higher-ups known about their prior relationship.

  “Uh-huh. Right.” Zoe scrutinized the jogging astronaut. “I’ve been watching you two. There’s a definite vibe there. I’ve seen the way you look at each other when you think nobody’s looking and how awkward it is whenever you accidentally touch each other. ’Fess up, Skipper. You two practicing orbital maneuvers on the sly?”

  Damn, Shaun thought. He had to give her points for observational skills, not that he intended to share his private life with a nosy reporter. Off the record or not, that was between him and Fontana. “Like I said before, you have a vivid imagination.”

  “But I also like to get my facts straight.” She deposited the towel in a sealed hamper. “Seriously, what’s the scoop? I mean, I know that the doc is happily married and all, but you really expect me to believe that you and Fontana aren’t getting busy on this trip? It’s a long way to Saturn and back.”

  Shaun hoped that zero g didn’t make blushing easier. He quickened his pace on the treadmill, hoping the exertion would disguise any telltale flushes. “We have plenty to occupy us, thank you very much. This is a scientific mission, not a pleasure cruise.” He tried to joke away the subject. “Besides, I’m holding out for one of those green girls you mentioned.”

  “You might want to clear that with Fontana first. I’m not sure she would approve.”

  Possibly not. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He adjusted the harness, which was already digging into his hips and shoulders. He had to be careful to avoid developing blisters and friction burns. “What about you? Hope you’re not counting on an alien abduction.”

  “Nah. I’m not into ETs.” She drifted over to the window and gazed out at the void. “But let me know if we run into Khan. Tyrant or not, he was a hottie.”

  “You’ll be the first to know,” he promised.

  Six

  2270

  “Impact in thirty-nine seconds, Captain.”

  All eyes were focused on the viewer as a slab of ice the size of an adult Horta came zooming at the dome protecting the Skagway colony. The frozen missile was accompanied by a rain of smaller particles from the outer rings. Flashes of blue Cherenkov energy flared whenever a sizable chunk struck the colony’s fading shields. It looked like an old-fashioned fireworks display.

  “Fire at will, Mr. Chekov.”

  A pair of brilliant sapphire beams, unleashed by the Enterprise’s forward phaser banks, converged on the speeding slab. The directed energy blasts disintegrated the massive object, which glowed brightly before dissolving into atoms. Vaporized water dispersed into the vacuum.

  “Bingo.” Sulu grinned at Chekov. “Right on target.”

  “Good shooting,” Kirk agreed. “You’re proving quite the sharp-eyed marksman, Mr. Chekov.”

  The young ensign shrugged modestly. “Sadly, I am getting rather too much practice.”

  Tell me about it, Kirk thought. The Enterprise had taken up a defensive position between Skagway and the crumbling rings of Klondike VI, where such exercises had become increasingly necessary. The colony’s own defenses were no longer sufficient to keep its population safe. More than a day had passed since the ship had arrived at Skagway, and the storms were getting worse by the hour. Fresh cracks and craters marred the battered surface of the moon. Anti-meteor phaser arrays had been smashed to pieces by the very hazards they’d been designed to fend off. The Yukon Gap was supposed to be relatively clear of the debris. The colony had not been designed to cope with a barrage of this magnitude. Even as Kirk watched, another slab of ice hit the moon’s uninhabited southern hemisphere. He guessed that the tremors could be felt from kilometers away.

  The Enterprise was helping, but Kirk knew they were only buying time. As if the storms weren’t bad enough, Spock had confirmed that Skagway’s own orbit was deteriorating. The moon was doomed to spiral into the planet’s atmosphere—unless some manner of solution could be found.

  “Shuttle approaching the Enterprise,” Uhura reported. “They’re requesting permission to come aboard.”

  “Permission granted.” Kirk had been expecting this. Governor Dawson had promised to send her best person to consult with his crew. He activated his intercom. “Kirk to landing bay, prepare for company.”

  On the viewer, the shuttle could be seen flying through the storm. Debris buffeted the small vessel, but its shields appeared to be holding. Kirk didn’t envy the pilot.

  “Keep an eye on that shuttle,” he instructed, not wanting it to get nailed by an iceberg-sized missile before it reached the Enterprise. “Make sure it gets through intact.”

  “Aye, sir,” Chekov said. “I will watch over it like a guardian angel.”

  “Just hang on to your halo, Ensign,” Kirk quipped as he rose from his chair. He wanted to greet the delegation personally. “Would you please accompany me, Mr. Spock? I’m sure our guest would appreciate your scientific input.”

  “Of course, Captain.” Spock stepped away from his station. “I am eager to ‘compare notes,’ as you might say, with the colony’s own expert.”

  Kirk nodded at the helm. “Mr. Sulu, you have the conn.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Sulu turned over the helm to Lieutenant Stoltzfus before taking the captain’s chair. Kirk happened to notice how much at home Sulu looked in charge of the bridge. Good, Kirk thought. He knew that Sulu had ambitions of having his own command someday. He’ll make a fine captain, I’m guessing. After he gets a bit more seasoning.

  Spock joined Kirk in the turbolift. A short ride later, they arrived outside the shuttlecraft bay at the rear of the ship. “Shuttle acquired,” a voice announced over the intercom system. “Repressurizing landing bay.” Moments later, a green light flashed above the doorway, signaling that the deck was now safe to enter. Blue double doors slid open to admit them.

  The shuttlecraft, which was smaller and of boxier design than the Starfleet models, rested at the center of the cavernous gray landing bay. Despite its shields, the shuttle’s exterior was freshly dented in places. Its outer plating had been dinged and chipped. Kirk was impressed that the pilot had been willing to fly through the barrage to get here.

  A single passenger exited the shuttle. Slight of figure, Qat Zaldana wore a neatly tailored emerald blazer and matching skirt. Dark hair was pi
led atop her head in a beehive. A metallic gold veil completely concealed her face, making her age hard to determine. The veil seemed to be composed of dozens of overlapping sequins that sparkled like a transporter effect. Kirk wondered how she could see through the shimmering fabric.

  “Welcome to the Enterprise,” he greeted her. “I’m Captain Kirk, and this is my first officer, Mr. Spock.”

  “Pleased to meet you, gentlemen.” She crossed the landing pad to join them. A shiny silver carry bag was slung over her shoulder. “I only wish the circumstances were less dire.”

  “As do I,” he agreed. “But thank you for coming.”

  According to Governor Dawson, Qat Zaldana was Skagway’s chief scientist and astronomer. Kirk was anxious to hear her views on the crisis threatening the colony. He offered her his arm. “If you’ll allow me.”

  “You don’t need to guide me, Captain,” she said with a chuckle. “I can see perfectly well through my veil.”

  “It is composed of a sensor web, is it not?” Spock surmised.

  “That’s quite right, Mr. Spock. I belong to the Order of the Faceless, whose teachings require us to keep our visages to ourselves,” she offered by way of explanation. “I assure you, I am not a Klingon in disguise.”

  “I never thought you were,” Kirk said. He was not familiar with the sect she had mentioned but had no intention of asking her to compromise her beliefs. The Federation embraced all manner of creeds and philosophies, some more esoteric than others. “But I’m impressed by the craftsmanship of your veil.”

  Miranda Jones had worn a similar fabric, he recalled, but for a different reason. Apparently, the shimmering fabric was made of dozens of miniature sensors strung together in a complex lattice that probably allowed Qat Zaldana to perceive her surroundings better than either he or Spock could. For all he knew, she could see right through him—literally.

  He couldn’t help wondering what she looked like.

  “This old thing?” she joked. “I’ve had it for years.” She turned her shrouded face toward Spock. “I must say, Mr. Spock, I’m looking forward to working with you on this problem. Your reports to the Vulcan Science Council have made fascinating reading. I was particularly intrigued by your theories regarding temporal mechanics and mirror universes.”

  “Indeed?” Spock was too Vulcan to be visibly flattered by their guest’s praise, but Kirk thought he detected a hint of pride in his friend’s voice. Or perhaps Spock simply appreciated encountering an equally scientific mind. “I hope you found my work illuminating.”

  “Very much so,” she insisted. “I have to ask, do you really think that the long-term relativistic side effects of the so-called slingshot maneuver can be calculated by means of a factored transdifferential equation?”

  “That depends on the constancy of acceleration and the maximum fungibility of the space-time continuum. There are many other variables to consider as well.”

  “Such as the possibility of a quantum rift?”

  “Precisely.”

  Kirk smirked in amusement. “I hate to break up this small talk, but perhaps we should get down to business?”

  “Of course, Captain,” she said apologetically. Her voice took on a more somber tone. “Is there somewhere we can talk? I have new data that may be of interest to you.”

  “We can speak in the briefing room,” Kirk suggested. Before escorting her out of the landing bay, the captain cocked his head toward the parked shuttle. “What about your pilot? I imagine he might like to relax in one of our rec rooms, especially after that bumpy ride you just took.” He shook his head. “You were both brave to go out in that storm.”

  Ordinarily, the Enterprise would have just beamed the scientist aboard, but that would have involved lowering the colony’s shields. Under the circumstances, a shuttle flight from the spaceport outside the dome had seemed a safer bet—at least, for everybody back on the moon.

  “That’s very thoughtful of you, Captain,” she said warmly, “but there is no ‘both.’ I piloted the shuttle myself.”

  “I see,” Kirk said, impressed. Qat Zaldana was clearly a woman of many talents. “This way, then.”

  The doors slid shut behind them as they entered the corridor outside. Busy crew members, intent on their duties, hustled past them. An engineering team performed routine maintenance on an exposed power conduit. Kirk lowered his voice on the way to the turbolift.

  “So, what’s it like down on the colony?” he asked. “How are people bearing up?”

  “No better than you might expect, Captain.” Zaldana kept her voice subdued. “The governor is doing her best to try to keep everyone calm, but people are frightened. Who can blame them? Tremors are shaking the moon, the storms won’t let up, and everyone’s worried about what’s coming next. Your timely arrival has reassured people a little, but nobody knows if that’s going to be enough. Folks are on the verge of panicking, I’m afraid.”

  Kirk didn’t like the sound of that. A rioting population could cost lives and make evacuation efforts even more difficult. He made a mental note to ask Governor Dawson if she needed any additional security forces.

  “Panic is seldom logical,” Spock observed, “but your fellow colonists have reason to fear for their safety. By my calculations, Skagway will soon fall out of its orbit unless we can determine the source of these anomalies and find a way to restore the status quo.”

  “I know,” she said. “That’s why you need to see my new data right away.”

  Kirk didn’t have to see her face to know how urgent this was. He commandeered the nearest turbolift, which took them directly to a hallway outside the ship’s main briefing room. The lights turned on automatically as they entered the chamber and sat down at the conference table. Kirk briefly wondered if he should summon McCoy or Scotty to this meeting but decided against it; he could get their advice later if necessary. Kirk activated the computer terminal.

  “All right,” Kirk said. “What do you have for us, Ms. Zaldana?”

  “Please, call me Qat,” she insisted.

  “If you wish,” he said. “Is that a name or a title?”

  “Both,” she answered. “But take a look at this.”

  She inserted a data card into the terminal. An image appeared on the triscreen viewer facing their seats. Churning clouds swirled around what appeared to be an enormous hexagon bordered by six dark purple jet streams. The vortex seemed to extend deep into the planet’s turbulent atmosphere. Straight sides and sharp angles gave it an oddly artificial appearance, not at all like a natural weather pattern.

  “What you’re looking at,” she explained, “is one of Klondike VI’s most distinctive features: an enormous hexagonal vortex that permanently covers the planet’s north pole. It’s more than thirty thousand kilometers across, large enough to hold at least four Earth-sized planets, and it’s been there for as long as anyone remembers.”

  Kirk examined the image, which looked familiar. “I’ve seen storm formations like this before. There’s one just like it on Saturn.”

  “As well as on Myrddin V, Nova Limbo, Valhalla Prime, and various other gas giants throughout the quadrant,” Spock added. “All ringed planets, as it happens.”

  “Just so,” she confirmed. “The hexagon on Klondike VI is virtually identical to the one on Saturn, or at least it was.” She advanced the file on the computer. “That image was taken months ago. Now look at time-lapse recordings taken over the last several weeks.”

  On the screens, the colossal hexagon began to contract, gradually at first but with increasing speed. Deep purple clouds lightened in color, looking pale and washed-out. A time stamp at the bottom of the recording charted the vortex’s contraction. Weeks clicked by rapidly.

  “It’s shrinking,” Kirk said. “Growing smaller by the day.”

  She nodded. “And at an accelerating rate.”

  “Fascinating,” Spock observed. “Such formations are known to be uniquely stable. To my knowledge, a contraction of this nature has never bee
n observed elsewhere.”

  Kirk stared at the screen facing him. The hexagon was only a fraction of its original size. “And you only just noticed this?”

  “We’ve been rather preoccupied with the outer rings raining down on us,” Zaldana pointed out. “Besides, the process began so slowly that it was almost imperceptible at first, like watching grass grow or a glacier slowly melt over time. By the time you register the change, it’s already well under way.”

  Kirk could see that. The surface of Klondike VI was vast and turbulent, after all. He could hardly expect the colonists to monitor every square kilometer of the planet at all times. Skagway was primarily a mining operation, not a scientific outpost. The gas giant was just background scenery to them.

  “And the hexagon started shrinking around the same time the rings began collapsing?” the captain noted. “That can’t be a coincidence.”

  “No,” she agreed. “But is it a cause or an effect? Or is some other factor causing both phenomena?”

  Kirk looked at Spock. “What do you think? Could what’s happening to the hexagon be causing the rings to deteriorate?”

  “That is impossible to determine without further data,” Spock declared, clearly reluctant to speculate before all of the facts were in. “But this development certainly warrants closer study. I suggest we use the ship’s scanners to examine the vortex.”

  “An excellent idea, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said, “pro-vided it doesn’t get in the way of protecting the colony.” He mentally charted the Enterprise’s position, trying to determine a location that would put them in the best place to observe the planet’s north pole and defend the besieged moon at the same time. That was going to be tricky. “Don’t forget. Hundreds of lives are at stake.”

  “I am quite aware of that, Captain,” Spock stated, “but unless we can determine the source of the disturbances and find a means to reverse them, there will be no colony to defend.”

  Qat Zaldana inhaled sharply behind her veil.

  “Forgive my bluntness,” Spock apologized. “But the facts are what they are.”

 

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