Worlds in Collision Page 27

  War had come to Transition.

  “Kirk to Enterprise. Enterprise, come in.”

  Kirk leaned over the communications console and waited for a reply. All around him, status displays and light strips flickered back to life as secondary power supplies came on line throughout Memory Prime.

  “Captain?” a familiar though uncertain voice suddenly said from the console speaker. “Is that really you?”

  “Sulu.” Kirk greeted the lieutenant. “What’s the ship’s status?”

  “Ship’s status is fully operational, sir. Except for subspace communications.”

  “Who’s in command up there?” Kirk had no time to bring Sulu up to date.

  “I am, sir.”

  Kirk turned to Spock before replying. “This might make it easier.” Then he pressed the transmit switch on the console again. “Is the commodore on board?”

  “No, sir. She’s on Memory Prime, but with all communication channels out, we have no idea what the conditions are there.”

  “Sulu, listen carefully. Commodore Wolfe has based all of her decisions and her orders since coming on board the Enterprise on false communications supposedly from Starfleet Command. The commodore is doing what she feels is her duty, but she is mistaken. Do you understand?”

  Kirk could hear Sulu swallow hard over the communications link. “Yes, sir,” he said, though with a hesitancy that revealed he suspected what Kirk was about to ask him to do.

  “Therefore, Sulu, I order you to cancel all of the orders given by Commodore Wolfe and I place you in command of the Enterprise, this time with proper authority.”

  “But, Captain, according to the commodore, you’ve been relieved of command and you’re wanted for attempted…assassination, sir.”

  “I understand, Sulu. I know the dilemma you’re in. I’ve been there myself. But listen to what I want you to do before you make your decision. Fair enough?”

  “Aye, Captain.”

  “First, I want you to bring the Enterprise in as close as you can get it to the Memory Prime installation. Spock calculates you should be able to hold three hundred meters over the central dome; got that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Next, I want you to do an all-out sensor scan on the complete facility. You’ll be looking for a Romulan.”

  “A Romulan?”

  “He’s the one the commodore is really after. I want you to scan for the Romulan, lock on to him, and beam him up. Have a full security team, in armor, waiting in the transporter room. He’s deadly and armed but have them set their phasers to stun. We need him alive. Do you have all that?”

  “Aye, sir. Phasers set to stun, sir?”

  “That’s correct, Sulu.”

  There were a few seconds of dead air. Then another voice came through the circuit.

  “Chekov here, Keptin. Course laid in. We are under way. ETA two minutes.”

  “Where’s Sulu?” Kirk asked. Had the strain of the decision been too much for him?

  “Taking us through the artificial gravity fields of Prime. I am setting sensors for Romulan signatures. Good to have you back, sir.”

  Kirk felt some of the tension leave him. Sulu had made the right decision. “Who’s on communications, Chekov? I’ve got some important messages to send out while we’re waiting for you down here.”

  “Lieutenant Abranand was on communications, sir,” Sulu replied. Kirk could hear the concentration in the helmsman’s voice as he brought the Enterprise in closer to Prime. Flying the ship through an atmosphere was easier than trying to get within meters of an asteroid riddled with artificial-gravity generators. It would take all of Sulu’s skill to keep the ship in position.

  “What do you mean, ‘was,’ Mr. Sulu?”

  Chekov’s voice came back on the circuit. “He was just caught attempting to trace your signal, Keptin, in wiolation of a direct order from the commander of this ship.”

  Kirk tried not to let his smile carry into his voice. “I’m sure we’ll discuss that later, Mr. Chekov. In the meantime, get someone on communications, on the double!”

  By the time Sulu had brought the Enterprise in to appear to hover directly over the central dome of Prime, Kirk’s priority message to Admiral Komack was under way. Kirk had kept his reference to the Adepts of T’Pel vague. He knew that even if Komack could arrange to drop the charges of insubordination and unlawful escape from custody, there was going to be a long legal road ahead. Kirk sighed. For the moment, at least, the ship was his again. But no matter how Komack took it, no matter what the admiral was able to do for his friend after the fact, Kirk knew this was it: the mission was finally over.

  Kirk leaned against the communications console waiting for the confirmation from Chekov that the sensor scan had begun. The exhaustion of the past two days unexpectedly sprang at him. He felt old. He was going home and his ship would be lost to him.

  But not my crew, Kirk thought as he looked over to Spock. We saved him. Kirk was struck by the realization that what he felt for the impending loss of the Enterprise was nothing compared to what he might have felt at the loss of his friend.

  Spock looked up from the computer console where he and Romaine were working, as if he had felt Kirk’s eyes upon him. “Captain?” he asked. “Are you all right?”

  Kirk smiled, letting his fatigue creep up on him. There was no more reason to fight it. The Enterprise was lost but he had won.

  “Emotions, Mr. Spock,” Kirk said. “I’m feeling relieved. It’s almost over.”

  “It would appear so.” Spock returned to the computer.

  McCoy walked over to join Kirk and Uhura by the communications console. “I was able to get through to the medical facilities,” he said. “A rescue team is on its way to the animal lab. They should get there in time to help Sal.”

  “Thank you, Doctor,” Romaine said from the computer station.

  “Chekov here, Keptin.” The ensign’s voice came from the console. “Sensors are now scanning Memory Prime for the Romulan.”

  “Twenty-seven seconds, Mr. Spock?” Kirk asked.

  “If a full scan is necessary.” The Vulcan walked over from the computer terminal to stand by the captain, arms folded across his chest.

  “Transporter room standing by with full security team.” Mr. Kyle was back where he belonged, too, Kirk thought.

  Then Sulu offered his update. “We are still refusing transmissions from Commodore Wolfe until Admiral Komack has replied to your message, Captain.”

  “Thank you, everyone,” Kirk said to his crew. “Have the transporter room lock on to us and beam us up after the Romulan is secured.” He turned to Spock. “Can you provide the coordinates for Sradek’s stasis container?”

  “I have already calculated them and provided them to Mr. Kyle, sir.”

  “How’s that scan coming, Mr. Chekov?” Kirk asked in a good-natured tone.

  “I am rerunning it now, sir. No response the first time through.”

  Kirk felt as he had when the Malther dart had hit him. “Spock, at this range we can’t miss, can we?”

  “It would be most improbable, Captain.”

  Spock flicked the transmission switch and began confirming instrument settings with Chekov. But Chekov had known what he was doing and Spock admitted that the ensign’s sensor protocols were flawless.

  “What if tr’Nele’s not a Romulan?” Kirk asked with a dismal realization. “What if he’s a robot?”

  Spock shook his head. “I was in contact with tr’Nele during our fight. He is a Romulan. There can be no doubt. I carry the resonance of his emotions and his hatred with me even now.”

  “Then why can’t the Enterprise pick him up on her sensors?” McCoy asked.

  “Logically, he must be out of range.”

  “But where could he go?” Kirk asked. “There are only seven domes.”

  “And the Interface Chamber,” Romaine suddenly said. “Dear gods, he’s down in the Interface Chamber with the interface team!”

  “T
he interface team!” Kirk jumped to his feet. “What kind of scientists are they?”

  “They’re—they’re technicians. They communicate between the Pathfinders and the scientific community.”

  “If they were killed, would the Pathfinders still be able to function?” Kirk asked. They had been wrong, he thought, careful not to betray his sudden fear. It wasn’t the scientists tr’Nele was after, it was those who spoke with the Pathfinders. Both he and Spock had missed it.

  But Romaine laid that thought to rest. “The Pathfinders can function perfectly without the interface team, just not as quickly. A person who functions as a Prime interface is able to directly connect with a Pathfinder consciousness. It makes the human mind function almost as quickly as a synthetic consciousness so the work load can be more efficiently processed. I know it sounds cold, Captain, but even if tr’Nele killed the entire interface team, Memory Prime could still function until replacements could be brought in.”

  “Were any scientists scheduled to have access to the Pathfinders during the opening ceremonies?” Spock asked.

  “Of course!” Romaine answered. “Pathfinder Eight specifically asked Sal to draw up schedules so that all the attending scientists could have a chance at access. There could be up to twelve of them down there now!”

  “Who?” Kirk demanded. “What are their names?”

  “I don’t know,” Romaine said. “I never saw Sal’s schedules. I can’t even be sure that there are any scientists down there.”

  “How deep is the Interface Chamber?” Spock asked Romaine.

  “Twelve kilometers.”

  “Twelve kilometers of nickel iron would make individual life readings impossible to detect, Captain. It is logical to assume that tr’Nele is in that chamber.” The science officer turned back to Romaine. “Where are the access tunnels to the chamber? We must get down there right away.”

  “There are no tunnels,” Romaine said. “It’s one of the interior bubbles formed when the asteroid condensed. It’s completely sealed off except by transporter.”

  “I am not aware of any transporter mechanism that can send a signal through twelve kilometers of nickel iron,” Spock stated.

  “There’s a monomolecular-wave guide wire for the beam,” Romaine explained. “It—” Her eyes grew round in amazement. “That’s the I/O channel! That’s how Pathfinder Two was able to send its consciousness up to interface with the associates. There is a thirteenth interface! Any of the Pathfinders could have been using it since they were sealed off!”

  “Spock?” Kirk asked for support.

  Spock nodded. “In the equipment room, Pathfinder Two reported that all transportation systems were to shut down within four minutes because of the discovery of an unauthorized transporter network. Approximately four minutes later, the Pathfinder’s interface was cut off.”

  “If tr’Nele could transport down there, so can we!” Kirk said. He hit the transmit switch. “Enterprise, beam the security team in the transporter room down here right away.” He ran over to the central transporter pad. “Spock, set the coordinates for the Interface Chamber. We’re going in.”

  Within seconds a transporter chime echoed in the access staging room and six armored security officers, this time wearing the unit insignia of the Enterprise, appeared.

  “On the pad, gentlemen,” Kirk said. “Let’s move it, Spock!”

  Kirk jumped up to stand by the security team. Romaine followed him. “You’ll need me to get past the security systems,” she said.

  Kirk waved at Spock to join them. “Set it on automatic and come on.”

  Spock looked up from the transporter console. “I regret to say that I am not receiving a bounce-back signal, Captain. The wave guide wire has been cut.” Spock stepped back from the console as though it were no longer logical to stand by it now that it had no function. “We cannot beam down. Tr’Nele has beaten us.”

  “No!” Kirk shouted from the transporter pad. “Never!” he cried, and his voice reverberated in the staging room. But his challenge was unanswered. It did not matter that as Kirk was unable to be beamed below, tr’Nele was also unable to escape. Escape was not a condition of victory to an Adept of T’Pel. The Romulan had won.

  And then Spock said, “I have an idea.”

  “I don’t care what you think the risk is, Mr. Kyle! All I want you to tell me is: is it possible?”

  Kirk glared at the transporter chief. Part of him knew that he had fallen back into his habit of pushing his crew as much as he pushed himself. But he had to. Kirk had accepted that he was going to lose his ship to save his friend; that was an acceptable trade-off. But he had no intention of just losing. Not to a Romulan killer.

  Kyle held his hands on his head, still standing on the staging room’s transporter pad. Kirk had showered him with questions from the moment he had materialized as ordered.

  “Come on, Kyle!” Kirk prodded. “Will it work?”

  “Yes. Maybe,” Kyle hedged. “If you gave me a week of computer time. If we could run simulations, check out the equipment, run tests, check the literature—”

  “No time, Kyle.” Kirk turned to Spock. “There’s your confirmation, Spock. Let’s get started.”

  Spock raised an eyebrow in what passed as a hesitation.

  “Spock,” McCoy said. “You can’t let him do it! He’ll be killed!”

  “I shall be accompanying him, Doctor. I shall strive to prevent that fate for both of us.”

  “And for McCoy, too,” Kirk added. He turned to the shocked doctor. “You’re coming along, Bones. No telling how many injured we might have down there by now.”

  “Jim,” Bones croaked. “Me…down there…like that?”

  Kirk showed a manic grin as he pulled on a new gold tunic to replace the one he had wrapped around the associate’s eyestalk. “Look at it this way, Doctor. If it doesn’t work, you’ll never know it, and if it does, you’ll never be afraid of a transporter again. Have whatever supplies you need beamed down from the ship and get into an environment suit.” He said the next for Spock’s benefit as well as the doctor’s. “Tr’Nele hasn’t won yet.”

  Within minutes, the first cargo pallet from the Enterprise had materialized and twenty of Scott’s first team swarmed over it like bees constructing a hive. There was still no word on what had happened to Scott himself, though.

  By the main transporter pad, antigrav units were piled four deep. Dr. M’Benga and Nurse Chapel swirled into solidity with medical supplies for McCoy. When M’Benga heard what Spock had planned, he volunteered to go in McCoy’s place.

  “Thank you, Doctor,” McCoy said, placing his gloved hand on his colleague’s shoulder. “But Jim’s right. If he and Spock are going to try this and it doesn’t work out, I don’t want to know about it.” He smiled. “One way or another, I’m going with them.”

  When the last of the materials from the Enterprise had been beamed down, Spock flipped open his newly acquired communicator and gave the order for the next phase.

  “Mr. Chekov, the central transporter pad has been cleared. Lock on to your targets and bring them here.”

  “Aye, Mr. Spock,” Chekov replied from the ship, “targets are in transit…now!”

  Two technicians were helping Kirk into a silver environmental suit when the first of the targets materialized in the staging room. It was a portable combat transporter pad, snatched from wherever Farl’s troops had placed it in the Prime facility and beamed here.

  Two engineers ran up, slapped antigravs to the portable pad’s sides, and floated it away. A second pad appeared and was removed. Fourteen more followed.

  As each pad was floated over to a working area, the engineers immediately stripped off its control panel and began rewiring. The work continued after the first pad was completed and floated back onto the main pad. Kirk, Spock, McCoy, and Romaine, all encased in environmental suits as protection against what they would soon experience, waited beside the portable transporter as Kyle finished with their final briefi
ng.

  “You won’t have to set any signals,” the transporter chief explained. “All the circuitry’s been preset on the highest beam path for the greatest penetration. Each one we send down will automatically lock on to the next one in sequence. Just be sure the communicator attached to each panel is switched on so you can get a relay signal back to us.”

  Kyle pointed to the locator screen on the pad’s control panel. “This screen will light up when it’s in use, so you shouldn’t have any problem seeing it. All the next-beam targets you select should fall into the one-point-five-kilometer range between here and here. The exclusion space reading should be at least twenty-four cubic meters. Anything less than that and we’ll hear the explosion when your fermions and the asteroid’s fermions try to rewrite physics.” He held out his hand to the captain. “As soon as you arrive, we’ll start laying another wave guide down the beam path to bring you back. That’s it.”

  Kyle shook hands with Kirk, McCoy, and Romaine, and held his hand in salute for Spock.

  Kirk moved his hand against the resistance of his suit to signal the transporter operator to begin. Twenty minutes had passed since they had discovered the wave guide had been broken and feared that tr’Nele had won. And now they were in pursuit. Kirk had no doubt about it. The Enterprise and her crew were a miracle.

  Kirk watched the first portable pad disappear from beside him. Watching the transporter effect through the meshlike pattern of the induction circuitry inlaid in his helmet’s face shield created a three-dimensional moiré effect.

  The access staging room dissolved in a cool swirl of sparkling energy as the transporter dissolved him, and in that quantum moment between one place and another, in the midst of action and chaos and the specter of death, Kirk knew he had found his center. He was at peace, and with that knowledge, before his next battle had even commenced, Kirk knew he had already won.