Myriad Universes_ Echoes And Refractions Part 13

The president rose from his seat and bowed from the shoulders to Thelin. "Admiral th'Valra.s.s, thank you for arriving on such short notice."

"I am here to serve at your pleasure, Mr. President," Thelin replied, returning the bow.

The Efrosian gestured to the left side of the table. "I believe you know the Starfleet commander in chief, Admiral West."

The well-groomed middle-aged man, a human, stood and held out his hand. "Of course he does," he said. "It's good to see you again, Thelin."

Thelin took the proffered hand and gripped it tightly. "Admiral," he said. "So you have finally decided to retire the t.i.tle of 'Colonel'?"

"h.e.l.l, it's been forever and a day since I served in the special forces," West replied. "But now that we've lost Morrow, and they asked me to run this dog-and-pony show, I figured it's best to keep things simple in the chain of command." A smile spread out beneath his mustache. "But for you, 'Patrick' will do just fine." He gestured to the Vulcan woman seated across the table. "And I believe you know Admiral T'Pragh?"

The short-haired woman nodded her acknowledgment. "Admiral," she said.

"Admiral," Thelin replied with a smile. "You're looking well. Have you lost weight?"

The woman raised an eyebrow but appeared at a loss for a reply.

As the men took their seats, the doors slid open again, and David Marcus quietly stepped into the room, timidly looking around at the pastel colors of the walls and floors, and at the artistic depictions of Mount Seleya that hung between the various viewscreens.

Thelin practically jumped from his chair. "Doctor Marcus!" he said, extending his arm to shake the young man's hand, in accordance with human custom. David smiled, showing some relief at the sight of a familiar face, but was still clearly puzzled to find himself at such a prestigious meeting. Thelin continued, "How is your mother, David?"

"Oh, she's, uh...fine, I guess," David stammered. "Retired now, of course. The situation on Earth really hit her pretty hard. She'd spent a lot more time there in her childhood than I had."

"I can only imagine," Thelin replied with genuine sympathy. "I hear she's living on Pacifica now?"

"That's right. I just don't think the Vulcan deserts were really her thing."

"Well, she should have come back to Andor. We have retirement homes on the sh.o.r.es of the Khyzhon Sea that are absolutely stunning." The Andorian bowed his head in respect, his antennae nearly lying prostrate against his white hair. "We worked together for years, and she is a truly brilliant mind. I know that the president would have liked her to join us today, but there was no time."

"Thank you, Thelin," David replied, "but it's just as well. I'm sure she wants to get away from all of this...politics and such."

"I have no doubt." Thelin smiled warmly, then gestured to the other representatives at the table. Following a second round of introductions, David took his seat next to T'Pragh.

President Ra-ghoratreii wasted no time in calling the meeting to order. "Lady, and gentlemen," he began. "I understand that this meeting is a little unexpected, but circ.u.mstances as they are, the potential exists for a fundamental shift in the war strategy." He focused his gaze squarely upon David. "Doctor Marcus, your presence here was requested for the purpose of a qualified scientific consultation. I must make it absolutely clear that any and all information disclosed here today is given in complete confidence, and that your divulgence of any such information without authorization is punishable as an act of treason against the Federation. Do I make myself clear?"

David looked as if he wanted to crawl under the table, or perhaps simply bolt for the door. But he swallowed and nodded his head. "Yes," he said in a near-whisper. "Crystal clear."

"Very well," the Efrosian said, apparently satisfied. "Admiral th'Valra.s.s, would you please open with your report on the overall status of the conflict."

"Certainly, Mr. President," Thelin replied, and briefly looked to each of the other attendees in turn, hoping to convey the gravity of the information he was about to impart. "As we enter the fifth year of the conflict, the consensus among field commanders is that we have effectively reached an impa.s.se. On one hand, our campaigns in the Archanis sector were quite successful, and have provided us with valuable positions from which to launch additional offensives into Klingon territory."

"You bet," West interjected. "In fact, we now have opportunities for strategic advances into the Klinzhai sector that we could only have dreamed about months ago."

"On the other hand," Thelin continued, "Klingon advances on two fronts are now beginning to seriously threaten the Alpha Centauri system, and with the Sol sector under Klingon control, we don't have the strategic presence from which to mount an effective defense." He looked over at David. "Despite the high costs the Klingons have incurred in holding the system, we...we still have made effectively zero progress toward reclaiming Earth.

"Most recently, Captain Sulu, in command of the Excelsior, returned from a mission to Organia. Unfortunately, the Organians have refused our appeals for them to intervene in the conflict. It would seem that, although they will energetically maintain the peace in their own territory, ultimately they believe the costs of war should compel the Klingons and us to abide by the terms of the treaty in our respective domains."

T'Pragh spoke up. "All our projections consistently show a protracted conflict with no means of imminent resolution. Unless the variables are altered with a radical change in tactics, the number of casualties will only increase over the next decade, with less than twenty-eight percent chance of victory."

"So then," West said. "A radical change it shall be, indeed. The plans for Operation Olympius are nearly finalized. I have no doubt this will be the turning point we're all waiting for."

David, looking as lost and confused as ever, finally gathered the courage to raise his hand and pose a question. "I'm sorry, please forgive me, but...what's Operation Olympius?"

Admiral West faced him with a self-a.s.sured c.o.c.k of his head. "Son, it's going to be an all-out invasion. We're going to do precisely what those Klingon sons o' b.i.t.c.hes least expect. We're going to take Qo'noS."

David sat back, wide-eyed, and whistled softly. "Wow," he said.

"This cannot be a decision made lightly," Thelin counseled. "On Earth, they had an expression about 'putting all of one's eggs into one basket.' Should we proceed with this mission, the expected casualties would almost certainly be in the millions-both Federation and Klingon ground forces, as well as Klingon civilians. Dozens of Starfleet ships could be lost. And there is no guarantee that the Klingons will surrender. If they do not, retreat is not an option. We cannot recover militarily should we fail."

"And that's why we won't fail, my friend," West replied. "It's a blitzkrieg strategy. They're going down, and that's all there is to it."

"I don't know," David said. "It sounds like an awful lot of destruction just to claim one planet."

West focused upon him with a glare that might possibly have had a stun setting. "Excuse me, son, but in case you hadn't noticed, there's a war going on here. And there's no prize more symbolic than the Klingon homeworld. You want to end this thing, this is our only option."

"Not our only option, Admiral," Ra-ghoratreii said. The president sighed softly, and folded his hands before him. "Patrick...Thelin...I apologize for not seeking your involvement with this prior to today, but several months ago, the Regula One s.p.a.celab was appropriated for military use, under the direction of Admiral T'Pragh."

All eyes turned toward the Vulcan woman. "Indeed," she said. "After months of careful deliberation, we believe that the Genesis technology, originally developed in part by Doctor Marcus, may be of strategic value." She turned toward David. "Your function here, Doctor, is to a.s.sist us with any matters of a technical nature."

David's face reflected a mixture of both puzzlement and anxiety. "Well...thank you, I mean...I'm happy to help in any way I can, but...are you proposing to deploy the Genesis effect on a planetary scale?"

"Correct," she replied.

"Then I'm a little confused," David said. "I mean, we tested that technology five years ago, and it failed miserably. The protomatter in the matrix caused the Genesis planet to destroy itself."

"No, Doctor," T'Pragh corrected him. "In fact, the first test of the Genesis effect on a true planetoid was carried out just over a month ago, in the Terra Nova sector. The protomatter effectively decayed into standard elements, and the planetoid is now entirely stable and quite fertile."

"But then, what...?"

"The detonation in the Mutara sector five years ago simply formed a planetoid from the gases and particles in the nebula. Our a.n.a.lysis of the data following the planet's self-destruction has led us to conclude that the matter in the nebula was of insufficient ma.s.s to form a stable planetary core."

A light of understanding suddenly flickered on within David's eyes. "So...then the matrix attempted to compensate for the lack of ma.s.s by increasing the intensity of the graviton waves?"

"Correct," T'Pragh replied. "And we have determined that, below a certain critical ma.s.s, the graviton waves will eventually tear apart any unstable planetary form. Furthermore, in lieu of a stable balance between ma.s.s and energy, the matrix remains active, driving the extreme biological evolution that you had witnessed."

A moment pa.s.sed while David internalized this surprising new information, then his face broke into a beaming smile, and he was jubilant. "That's fantastic!" he exclaimed. "If the Genesis effect really is viable for terraforming, then...well, we can create new refugee camps, with everything they would need to start their lives over! And you...you can create new ground-based installations in that Klingon territory, to help with the war effort. Right?"

The Vulcan cleared her throat. "Doctor Marcus, please try to keep your emotions under control. We have many questions for you."

David quickly composed himself. "Right. I'm sorry, it's just...well, that's the best news I've heard in years. So, go ahead, I'm listening."

T'Pragh took a deep breath. "Doctor," she began. "Our simulations regarding surface deployment of the Genesis device have produced conflicting results. How far beneath the surface will the Genesis wave extend its field for molecular reorganization?"

"Er, well, that depends," David replied. "Lots of factors are involved, including the mineral content of the planetary crust, and the planet's magnetic field. But the field strength would decay exponentially the further underground you measured."

The woman set her jaw, beginning to show the Vulcan equivalent of extreme impatience. "What would be the level of biological metastasis at subterranean distances of ten, fifteen, and twenty kilometers?"

"Biological?" David said, his brow wrinkling with confusion. "What, you mean if life already existed there?"

"Correct."

"But why would you...Oh my G.o.d." David straightened his back, leaning ever so slightly away from the table, a wave of alarm washing over him. "Just what the h.e.l.l are you proposing here?"

Sensing David's quickly fraying emotional state, Thelin raised his palm in an attempt to calm him. "David, please try to relax. This is just a discussion here. We're trying to a.s.sess all of the facts."

"No," he said, firmly shaking his head. "No, if we're going to talk facts, I demand to know what exactly is being planned."

"Doctor Marcus," T'Pragh said with a tone that could only be described as aggravation. "Any such information is given on a need-to-know basis."

"It's all right, T'Pragh," Ra-ghoratreii quickly interjected in a firm but calming voice. The four faces around the table turned to the president, who sighed heavily. "What we are proposing, Doctor Marcus, is a show of strength that the Klingon High Council cannot ignore. Plans are under development to deploy the Genesis device against the Klingon moon Praxis."

David's eyes widened with horror. "Praxis?" he whispered. "I know about Praxis. There are a half million people living there!"

"You're d.a.m.n right there are!" West shouted. "A half million people in the employ of the Klingon military, running mining operations to produce energy for the weapons that are killing our people!"

"That's not true," David countered. "When I was a prisoner there for two months, there was no military presence at all. That's why Kruge kept us there-to keep us outside of the High Council's area of concern. It's nothing but civilian families living there. Good lord, there are thousands of people living underground-whole subterranean mining towns, kilometers beneath the surface! We can't possibly know what this will do to them!"

"David," Thelin said. "You don't understand the Klingon culture. Years of acc.u.mulated intelligence have taught us that you cannot make an arbitrary distinction between a civilian and a military target. The two are fully integrated into every aspect of their society."

"Intelligence? That's a misnomer if you truly believe things are so black and white." The young scientist shook his head, quietly laughing. "Unbelievable. This is exactly what they accused us of wanting to do. It's the reason they conquered Earth. It's the reason Kruge killed my father, and tried to kill me." He pushed back his chair and stood up from the table. "And I won't be a party to it."

Across the table, Admiral West stiffened sharply, and his voice thundered out. "Son, you can't just up and leave here. Not now."

David laughed in defiance. "Why not? Am I your prisoner here?"

West tapped the intercom panel on the table before him. "Security to council chamber four-two-seven. We have a young man who needs to be taken into temporary custody."

Back at his home, hundreds of miles from ShiKahr, David Marcus lay awake on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, which was dimly illuminated by the glow of street lamps that pierced the warm midnight air outside his window. Nearly two weeks had pa.s.sed since he was summoned to that fateful meeting in the capital, yet the pain and bitterness would not subside-not while he waited for the other shoe to drop, not while he awaited the news that the attack had been carried out, using his own invention as a weapon of cataclysmic destruction.

He had fought himself these past two weeks, trying to keep five years of carefully woven emotional security from unraveling. Healing from his trauma at the hands of Kruge had been a struggle, but nothing had ever threatened to upend the very foundations upon which his recovery had been built.

For the first few weeks following his rescue from Klingon imprisonment, he had struggled through the stages of recoil-the anger and confusion as he attempted to make sense of the violence inflicted upon him, and the impulsive act of defiance that took his father's life. Thankfully, despite being stranded in the unfamiliar environs of Vulcan, he had received excellent care. A young male counselor from Betazed-a world of telepaths newly admitted to the Federation-had taken special interest in his case, and expertly guided him on his way to recovery, confronting the demons that filled each fallow moment of his life with fear.

Understanding the nature of fear was the key. As David fought a victim's natural tendencies to blame himself for the wrongs he had suffered, he came to understand the motivations of Kruge and the Klingons under his command-actions motivated by irrational fears that the Federation would seek to exterminate their race. And with that understanding came freedom from David's own fears of retribution for the creation of Genesis, and the ability to forgive the offenses against him.

Only now, five years later, after all of the healing was done, did he see the truth. The fears of his Klingon captors weren't irrational at all. They had been right all along. David had sp.a.w.ned a doomsday weapon, and his captors had acted justly to protect themselves. David's whole system of values, of good and evil, so painstakingly reconstructed in the wake of his trauma, had come crashing down around him. And the faces of his dead tormentors, newly empowered, threatened to plague his dreams once again.

So be it. If he wasn't going to be able to sleep, he would find his peace another way. He would find absolution. He rose from his bed and headed out the door. At least he was still a free man. He likely had Thelin to thank for that. The meeting they'd attended two weeks ago could have ended quite badly...

"Security, stand by!" Thelin shouted into the intercom before the security channel closed. He rose to his feet, and faced Admiral West. "Patrick, please. Tensions are obviously rather high. I have known David Marcus since he was a child, and I will personally vouch for his integrity. Before we venture down this path, I believe we owe it to ourselves to listen to what he has to say."

Frowning, the commander in chief considered Thelin carefully for several seconds, then spoke into the intercom. "Security, stand down. Close channel." With resignation, he turned to Ra-ghoratreii. "Mr. President, I will defer to your judgment on this matter."

The president glanced around the table, pausing at each person in turn. "Be seated, everyone. Perhaps we have been a little too insular as we stay holed up in meetings, deciding who lives and who dies. Perhaps we might benefit from the wisdom of a civilian scientist."

David sat down, exhaling with some relief and chagrin, but certainly not willing to let the matter rest. "Thank you, Mr. President," he said softly. "I apologize for my outburst. But I strongly object to the notion that wiping out a half million people in a military campaign is morally sound."

Thelin considered him with a solemn expression, almost signifying pity. "David...war by its nature is inherently immoral. But consider this. If we should instead proceed with the planned invasion of Qo'noS, the number of expected casualties is just as high, if not higher. Would you rather half of that number be Starfleet's finest men and women?"

"I refuse to accept that these are the only options!" David exclaimed. "It's a false dichotomy. We could...we could bargain with the Genesis technology. You said yourself that the Klingons are spending way too many resources defending their gains. They might be willing to surrender Earth voluntarily."

"This is about more than just Earth, David," Thelin replied. "Besides, if there is one thing we do understand about the Klingon culture, it's that they will not surrender unless it would be more honorable than continuing to fight...and only the threat of complete annihilation would make it so. That is the reason for this show of force, to crush their spirit, to make their efforts seem hopeless...this may be the only way. Yes, we may kill a half million people now, but a swift end to the war could save billions of lives in the long run."

"They won't surrender," David said. "They'll call your bluff. They'll know that you would never use this weapon against Qo'noS."

He paused. The awkward silence that David received in response to his argument hit him like a phaser blast to the chest. He suddenly felt dizzy. "Oh, no..." he mumbled. "You couldn't. You wouldn't commit an act of genocide against an entire race of people. You couldn't..."

"Doctor," Ra-ghoratreii said gently. "We're talking about the survival of the Federation."

David turned to T'Pragh. "You! You can't possibly agree with this. Where's the Vulcan logic in this course of action?"

T'Pragh raised an eyebrow. "The Vulcan High Command has debated this very issue at great length. And should such a decision come to pa.s.s, while regrettable, it is logical that extreme sacrifices must be made if it will serve the greater good."

"The greater good?" David replied, incredulous. "The greater good? I don't understand any of you. Where is the good in a future where the Genesis technology is an established facet of warfare? Where is the good in a universe that for all eternity will be teetering on the brink of Armageddon?"

"The universe will adjust," Thelin said. "Throughout the history of warfare, it always has. The question is where the good would be found in a universe without the Federation."

David felt a tightness in his chest, feelings of panic and hopelessness invading his mind. His breath caught in his throat and he choked back a sob. He could no longer raise his head to look Thelin in the eye.

"David," Thelin continued. "Your father spent his life protecting the Federation. He knew that sacrifices in the present are often necessary if we are ever to see any future reward."

Anger suddenly welled up in David's chest. "Don't you do that," he said through clenched teeth. "Don't you dare use my father's name to say that the ends justify your means. You have no right."

"I have every right, Doctor," Thelin said with mild indignation. "I knew your father better than you can possibly imagine."

"My father believed in justice and forgiveness!" David spat back. "Not in condemning an entire race to die. He would never have...he would never..." And the words left him. He collapsed back into his chair, a defeated man.

At the head of the table, President Ra-ghoratreii rose to his feet. "Gentlemen," he said. "Both of your pa.s.sions are admirable. And perhaps, years from now, these remonstrations will be studied with due reverence by the galaxy's wisest men, benefitting from the gift of hindsight." He pushed his chair under the table, and turned away, walking toward the large bay window that overlooked the skyline of ShiKahr. "However, on this day, we have only providence to guide us. And as the leader of the United Federation of Planets, my responsibility is to act decisively in the best interests of our peoples."

He slowly turned around. "Admirals, as of this moment, your sole responsibility is the planning and execution of deployment of the Genesis device against the moon Praxis. Thelin, you will take the lead, and conduct the mission aboard the Katai. The three of you will report to me again here, in one week, to discuss the final timetable."

He focused his gaze upon David. "Doctor Marcus, you are free to go. Please be aware that Starfleet Intelligence will monitor your movements and communications for the duration of this operation. That's all, everyone. We are adjourned." And with that, he slowly marched through the doors of the chamber.

Without a word, West and T'Pragh rose from their seats and followed the president out the door. Thelin remained seated, looking down at his hands.

Minutes pa.s.sed as the two remaining men sat in silence. Motionless, David stared at the mosaic patterns on the surface of the conference table. He wanted to run...to get away from this place, to take a shower, to wash away any memory of what he had witnessed here this day. But he didn't even know where to go. Back to a home that was just a glorified refugee shelter? He didn't feel like he had a home. He didn't feel like anything really mattered any longer.

In time, David managed to muster the spirit to make one final plea. "Thelin...You still have time. You can still talk them out of this."

Thelin shook his head gently. "David..."

"Once you do this thing, the galaxy will never be the same. You're opening Pandora's box. You're unleashing a power that can never be reined back in."

Thelin continued to look down, unwilling to make eye contact. "I'm sorry, David. I truly am, but I have no choice. My only loyalty is to the Federation. I am Starfleet. It is...my family." He stood, and finally looked over to David, but the human was staring down again, lost in his misery. "Thiptho lapth, my friend," Thelin whispered.

And he departed, leaving David Marcus alone to contemplate his legacy.

The image of Praxis on the viewscreen grew steadily larger as the Katai, having finished scouting the area to Thelin's satisfaction, began its final approach. At first glance, the moon was unremarkable-a fairly typical large rocky satellite, its surface pockmarked with evidence of ancient impacts. But the moon had been colonized for many generations, with surface settlements too small to be seen from orbit without strong magnification. And deep within the planet resided some of the galaxy's most complex energy-mining operations, as the molten core at the center of the moon was tapped as a virtually inexhaustible source of power.