The Rise and Fall of Khan Noonien Singh

by Greg Cox

  “Relive that moment,” he urged the patients. “Reclaim it.”

  He reached out through his fingertips for the other men’s thoughts. Neural connections formed, linking them. Three minds became one.

  “Reclaim yourselves . . . through me . . .”

  Thoughts and sensations flowed into him from both sides, converging on his brain. Waves of clashing memories collided inside him.

  Floating above Saturn, jetting toward the gleaming alien probe. Beaming the decrepit wreck aboard the Enterprise. Staring in shock and wonder as the probe fires brilliant pulses of light at the hexagon far below. Marveling at the oddly familiar hieroglyphics etched on the charred bronze casing. Fontana, pleading for him to get away from the probe. Miramanee surfacing from his past. Curiosity overcoming caution. Poignant memories drawing him nearer.

  Reaching out to touch the probe . . .

  Contact.

  A blinding flash of light exploded in Spock’s mind. “The rings!” he shouted, without knowing why. “The endless rings!”

  He collapsed between the beds.

  “Spock!” McCoy shouted.

  Dazed, Shaun sat up in the bed. It took him a second to orient himself; for a moment, he wasn’t sure who or where he was. Right, he remembered. The Enterprise. Sickbay. His hands explored his face, rediscovering crags and wrinkles he hadn’t felt in months. Glancing down at himself, he saw that he was wearing a blue NASA jumpsuit again, not a gold-and-black Starfleet uniform. His limbs felt weak and rubbery, as if they weren’t used to gravity anymore. His heart leaped in excitement.

  “Is this for real? Did it work?”

  To his right, Captain Kirk looked back at him. He looked equally thrilled to be back in his own body. “So it appears, Colonel. We’re us again.”

  But what about Spock? The Vulcan was sprawled on the floor between them, looking distinctly out of it. McCoy crouched over the fallen officer, scanning Spock with one of his futuristic medical gizmos. Spock groaned weakly. He clutched his head.

  “How is he, Bones?” Kirk demanded, sounding every bit the captain of a starship, despite the profoundly unsettling experience they had just shared. “Will he be all right?”

  “I think so,” McCoy said cautiously. “His vital signs are normal, by his half-human standards, and he seems to be coming to. I think he’s just in shock.” He called out to Chapel. “A stabilizer, stat!”

  “That will not be necessary, Doctor.” Spock’s eyes flicked open. He sat up with as much stoic dignity as he could muster. His face was pale, but the green was already coming back to it. “The experience was . . . unique, I admit, but Vulcans are not easily shocked.”

  “In a pig’s eye,” McCoy muttered. “You’re not going anywhere until I give you a thorough checkup.” He swept his gaze over the three patients. “And that goes for all of you.”

  “Whatever you say, Doc.” Shaun lay back down, succumbing to gravity. “But don’t think you can keep me here forever.” The trip from Klondike VI to Saturn had been a long one, even by twenty-third-century standards. “I have a ship—and a mission—to get back to.”

  “You needn’t worry about that,” the doctor said. “I doubt we’re sticking around.” He turned toward Kirk, the real Kirk. “You probably ought to know, Jim, that Starfleet hasn’t actually sanctioned this little jaunt into yesterday. We figured it might be easier to find you first and ask for permission later.”

  “Probably a good call,” Kirk said. “You know how the brass is frowning on time travel these days. They don’t want to risk changing history, not after some of the close calls we’ve had in the last few years. We’ll probably have some explaining to do to that new temporal investigation agency when we get back. They seem to think we’ve been abusing the privilege lately.”

  “Imagine that,” McCoy said wryly. “So, when are we heading home?”

  “Soon,” Kirk said. “But I have a few promises to keep first.”

  “Where is he? What’s taking so long?”

  Fontana was climbing the walls, waiting for she didn’t know what. Hours had passed since Shaun—or was it “Captain Kirk”?—had vanished from the cockpit in a sparkling column of light. Supposedly, there was another spacecraft nearby, just out of sight, but for all she knew, Shaun’s body had just disintegrated right before her eyes.

  “He should have been back by now, shouldn’t he? If he was coming back?”

  “Relax,” Zoe said, floating cross-legged above the flight deck. “It will be okay. He seemed to know what he was doing.”

  Fontana couldn’t believe how calmly the other woman was taking this. “Don’t you get it? We don’t even know who this ‘Kirk’ is, where he came from, what he was doing here, and, oh, yeah, what the hell happened to the real Shaun?” She stared anxiously out the cockpit windows, looking for answers somewhere beyond Saturn’s glittering rings. “This whole thing is insane!”

  “I know,” Zoe sympathized. “But look, just a few hours ago, we were all booked for a kamikaze cruise to oblivion, but hey, we’re still here. The way I see it, everything from now on is gravy.”

  “Maybe.” Fontana almost envied Zoe’s pathologically breezy attitude. “But what are we supposed to do in the meantime?”

  “Make out?”

  Fontana’s jaw dropped. She bumped into a bulk-head.

  “Geez, Fontana! It was a joke.” Zoe rolled her eyes. “To lighten the mood, you know? No offense, but you’re not my type.”

  “I’m crushed,” Fontana said, recovering. “Truly.”

  She wondered if Zoe was actually more freaked out than she was letting on. Hadn’t she said something once about cracking jokes whenever she was scared? In that case, it could be Open Mike Night on the Lewis & Clark.

  Get back here, Shaun, she thought. Soon.

  As if in answer to her prayers, an unearthly hum suddenly filled the flight deck. A coruscating pillar of sparks, about the size and width of an adult human being, manifested in the middle of the compartment, only a few yards away from the two women, then coalesced into a figure of flesh and blood. A familiar face looked around in wonder, as though amazed to find himself back on the ship.

  “Shaun?” Fontana asked. “I mean, Kirk?”

  “Right the first time.” His face lit up at the sight of her. “It’s really me, Alice. I’m back.”

  He rushed forward to embrace her. One kiss, and all of her doubts evaporated. She didn’t need to quiz or interrogate him. She could tell at once that this was no impostor. This was the real Shaun, come home to her at last. Her heart gave her all the proof she needed.

  “Whoa there,” Zoe interrupted. “Get a room.”

  Fontana shot her a warning glance. “If you ever mention one word of this on your stupid blog, I will make you wish you had been flushed out of that airlock.”

  “Got it,” Zoe said, gulping. “My lips are sealed. As you were.”

  Pausing for breath, Fontana gazed into Shaun’s warm blue eyes. Questions swirled inside her. “Where have you been all this time?”

  His eyes devoured her, as though he hadn’t seen her in weeks.

  “That will have to be our little secret,” he said. “I made a promise to some new friends to keep quiet about certain things, for all our sakes. But don’t worry. I promise to give you the full story soon.” He hugged her tightly. “It’s taken me a long time to get back to you—months, in fact—but now we have all the time in the world.”

  “Months?” she echoed. “But it’s been a week at most since that probe zapped you.”

  “For you, maybe, but for me . . . I’ve had a lot of time to think about us.”

  She took his word for it. Right now, it was enough that they were together again.

  “What about me?” Zoe asked. “Don’t I get a scoop?”

  “Hang on,” Shaun said, smirking. “You’re in for a surprise.”

  The eerie hum returned. A shower of sparks enveloped Zoe, then whisked her away, leaving the two astronauts alone on the flight deck.
>
  Fontana gaped in shock. “What the—? Where did she go?”

  “Remember those new friends I mentioned?” Shaun seemed not at all taken aback by Zoe’s abrupt disappearance. “Well, they need her help with some-thing important.”

  Twenty-nine

  2020

  The walled compound, tucked away on a remote island in Puget Sound, had once belonged to an obscure doomsday cult that had gradually drifted apart after the world stubbornly refused to end when the Mayan calendar expired in 2012. Abandoned for years, the grounds and buildings had since been claimed by the Human Extinction League, whose members were not inclined to wait expectantly for mankind’s demise. They aspired to hurry it along.

  Tera O’Herlihy had been HEL’s unwilling guest for months now. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen the sun, the stars, or anyone who didn’t want the human race to go the way of the dinosaurs. Since spring break, she’d been confined to an underground bunker beneath the compound’s faux–Mayan temple. Concrete walls defined her world. Posters of past environmental disasters—Chernobyl, Bhopal, the Gulf spill, global warming—adorned the walls to remind her constantly of humanity’s crimes against the Earth. A half-finished mural depicted a deserted Manhattan devoid of people and being reclaimed by wilderness. Tera figured the artist had stolen the idea from that old Will Smith movie, not that it really mattered to her. A furnace chugged noisily in the boiler room down the hall. An armed guard was posted at the door. Tera knew better than to try to make a break for it.

  Where could she go?

  The compound was surrounded on all sides by barbed wire, sentries, motion detectors, and mine fields. Jase and the others had made it very clear to her that there was no way out. She was stuck here, held hostage by people she had once thought were her friends.

  They’re never going to let me go, she knew deep down inside. No matter what they make Dad do.

  She perched on the edge of the rickety cot that had been her bed for months, picking at yet another plate of homegrown veggies from the compound’s gardens. Worn yellow sweats hung loosely on her; she figured she’d lost at least ten pounds in captivity. She watched nervously as HEL’s self-described visionary leader paced back and forth across the bunker, working himself up into another rant. She flinched in anticipation.

  This was never good.

  “Daddy dearest better come through soon,” Jase snarled at her. “Or I’m reducing the human population by one stupid college girl.” He helped himself to another beer from a small portable fridge and slammed the door shut. “Not a bad place to start, actually.”

  Although he called himself Jase Zero, she knew that his real name was Calvin Nickels. A rumpled army-surplus jacket was draped over his tall, lanky frame. He had a shaved skull, too much nervous energy, and an intense gaze that, tragically, she had failed to spot the madness in until it was too late. A faded T-shirt bore a graphic of Leonardo’s “Vitruvian Man” with a blood-red slash across it. His jeans needed washing. A nine-inch combat knife was tucked into his belt.

  Tera kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t safe to talk to him when he got like this.

  “Take it easy, baby.” Simone, his girlfriend and bodyguard, stood by the door. A tall blond woman who looked like a biker chick, she was rumored to have done time in prison. Her black leather jacket had Shepard Fairey’s iconic portrait of Khan painted on the back, and a Glock was holstered at her hip. She preferred guns to knives. “Give it time. That ivory-tower space nut’s not going to let anything happen to his darling little girl. He’ll play ball.”

  “You sure about that?” Jase said sourly. “What if—hang on! Maybe this is it!”

  A plasma-screen television, tuned to a cable news network, was mounted on the wall opposite the mural. Jase froze in place as a computer animation of Saturn appeared on the screen. He snatched the remote and upped the volume.

  “. . . NASA reports that the Lewis & Clark’s historic visit to Saturn, now in its sixth day, continues to be an unqualified success. Scientists and space buffs around the world are marveling at the astounding new data and discoveries that the heroic crew is sending back to Earth on a daily basis. A spokesperson for the joint international effort, Dr. Emilia Sakamoto, has issued a statement declaring that ‘the Saturn mission marks the next generation in space exploration, opening up a new frontier for all of humanity . . .’”

  “Screw that! The universe is better off without us!” Jase hurled the remote at the screen, then whirled around to shout at Tera. “What the hell is keeping that idiot father of yours? He’d better not think he can dick us around much longer.” He drew his knife and waved it in her face. “Doesn’t he care what we can do to you?”

  Cringing, she backed up against the wall behind her cot. The only good thing about Jase’s manic episodes was that they regularly reminded her just how crazy he was, making Stockholm syndrome highly unlikely. But she knew that one of these days, he was going to go too far.

  Maybe today?

  “You think they’re lying?” Simone speculated. “Maybe he already did it, and they’re just covering it up. You know you can’t trust the media. They’re just mouthpieces for the pro-human agenda.” Her face curdled in disgust. “They’ve got a vested interest in keeping their loyal audiences breeding like vermin.”

  Because of its reproductive associations, HEL members abstained from sex. It didn’t improve their moods.

  “Give me a break!” Jase barked at her, turning away from Tera for a moment. “How do you cover up the destruction of an entire freakin’ spaceship? We didn’t ask him to scratch the paint job. We demanded a disaster, bigger than both shuttle explosions put together, something that will finally drive a stake through their obscene ‘space program’ once and for all and stop us from spreading the blight of humanity to unsuspecting worlds!”

  “I know that,” Simone said. “But does Dr. Daddy?”

  “He had better!” he railed at Tera, spittle spraying from his lips. “What’s wrong with him? Doesn’t he love you at all?”

  “Leave me alone!” she pleaded, even though she knew it wouldn’t do any good. But she had to speak up, just to keep from getting sucked into their insanity. “You’re fanatics, all of you. You’re what’s wrong with humanity, not my father!”

  Tera couldn’t believe how stupid she’d been to get mixed up with these lunatics in the first place. She had never really bought into their whole “voluntary extinction” agenda, which had always struck her as extreme, but she’d been impressed by their passion and commitment and had found their ideas exotically different from the pro-space, pro-science rhetoric she’d been hearing from her parents and their colleagues all her life. College was supposed to be all about exploring different philosophies and viewpoints, right? And the folks at HEL had been so friendly and enthusiastic at first, eager to share their beliefs with her. It had been easy to start hanging out with them, staying up all night to debate the pros and cons of human progress and expansion, sharing pizzas and beers.

  Plus, to be honest, some of the guys had been kind of cute.

  And look where that got me, she thought bitterly. Now Dad’s being forced to do something terrible, and it’s all my fault.

  “Shut your mouth, college girl!” Simone fondled the handgun on her hip. “Okay, then,” she asked Jase, “how long do we wait before we start taking Little Miss Hostage apart?”

  “I don’t know,” he admitted, pacing once more. He gulped down the last of his beer and hurled the can into a corner. “Maybe—wait a second. Do you hear that?”

  He ran over and switched off the TV. A peculiar high-pitched hum was coming from the corridor outside, maybe from down by the boiler room. A sparkling golden glow cast its light through the doorway.

  “Crap! What’s that?” He nodded urgently at Simone. “Check that out!”

  “I’m on it.” She drew her Glock and cocked it. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.”

  Gun in hand, she slipped out into the hall.

&nbs
p; “Damn, damn, damn.” Jase went into full paranoid mode. Snatching a walkie-talkie off the top of a filing cabinet, he barked into the receiver. “Zero to Security! We may have company! Any bogies on the perimeter?”

  The compound occupied a hilltop overlooking the shore. The surrounding terrain had been cleared for miles around. It would be almost impossible to approach the base undetected, never mind all the mines and motion detectors and guards.

  “Negative, Zero,” a sentry reported. “All clear.”

  “Well, keep looking!” Jase watched the door, holding his knife out in front of him. His face was flushed and sweaty. Wild eyes scanned for intruders. “Simone? Talk to me, Simone!”

  A weird zapping noise came from the hall. A body thudded heavily to the floor.

  “Simone?”

  The guard did not respond.

  “I knew it!” Jase growled. “Your father sold us out!” He yanked Tera roughly to her feet and placed his knife against her throat. His other arm circled her waist from behind as he turned her into a human shield. Months of deprivation and abuse had left her too weak to resist. “I’ve got the girl!” he shouted. “Show yourself, or I’ll cut her throat!”

  Tera felt the blade against her jugular. It nicked her skin, drawing blood. She whimpered, not certain what was happening. Was someone really trying to rescue her?

  “Last chance!” Jase hollered. “I’m not bluffing here. Human life means less than dirt to me. It’s what we’re out to eradicate!”

  “All right,” a male voice responded from just outside the door. “Don’t do anything hasty. I’m coming in.”

  Holding his hands up where Jase could see them, a stranger entered the bunker. He was a fit, good-looking white guy, in nondescript civilian attire, with sandy brown hair and the cool, confident manner of a professional soldier or cop. He reminded Tera of some of the astronauts and pilots her father had trained with, but as far as she knew, she had never seen him before. He held up two small electronic devices, about the size of compact phones. She didn’t recognize the brand.