Myriad Universes_ Echoes And Refractions Part 4

"He was, but that was many years ago," she explained wistfully. "He has not remarried since his wife died in a shuttle accident, two decades before you and I were born." She turned to face David with a mischievous expression. "Curiously enough, she was a human woman. I presume he found her emotionalism to be...enlightening."

"Well, geez, what a missed opportunity!" David joked. "You read my profile, you knew my mother was single...Why didn't we try to get the two of them together?"

A small smile crossed Saavik's face-an event so infrequent yet so charming in its exotic flair. "I confess that when I read your profile, I was...intrigued by you."

"Oh, really?" David said with interest.

"Certainly. You're young, intelligent, idealistic...and I've always enjoyed the company of humans. You're not weighted down by this pointless, constant repression of your feelings." She spat out the last sentence with subtle but palpable bitterness.

"And what are you feeling?"

She laughed nervously and looked down at her lap. Beside her, David's tricorder continued to flash its incessant warnings of their imminent doom. "Right now, I am...terrified. I feel like that d.a.m.n ten-year-old girl back on h.e.l.lguard again...running...hiding..." She lifted her head to look at him, and a single glistening tear ran down her cheek. "I do not wish to die here."

David gingerly slid closer to her, until their knees were practically touching as they sat on the cold stone floor, and he took each of her hands in his own, clasping them gently but firmly. "We're not going to die," he confidently stated. "Not here. Not now."

"Is that your logic?" she asked, her voice steady but her eyes betraying her desperation. "Or just a feeling?"

"A feeling, I guess." He confidently raised his chin and nodded. "A human intuition."

"What else do your feelings tell you?"

He reached up and tenderly wiped the wet streak from her face. "That no woman so beautiful should ever be so troubled."

As David lowered his hand, Saavik raised her own hand to meet his, and they pressed their palms together. Their eyes remained locked as Saavik slowly slid her hand around to the opposite side and caressed his fingers with a slow downward motion. David sharply caught his breath as a warm, tingling sensation of pleasure flowed freely through the palmar nerves and upward through his arm. Their palms rejoined, and then David began the process anew, softly stroking Saavik's long, supple digits as she closed her eyes, her breathing slowly accelerating, her limbs trembling with excitement. As they clasped their hands together again, David could feel the intense heat from her body, while his own heart pounded fiercely, threatening to burst from his chest. Their lips met, and in perfect unison their bodies slowly sank down to the ground.

On the distant horizon, another volcanic mountaintop erupted, its hot magma shooting forth into the air. And the ground once again trembled, shaken by nature's primal throes.

The sharp concussion of an explosion rocked David from his slumber, and he shot up to a sitting position, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the morning light. Slowly, he shook off his dream-induced stupor and regained the memory of his present whereabouts. Saavik sat beside him, appearing fully awake and looking oddly neat and well groomed, as if every hair on her head just effortlessly fell into place. The recent noise seemed to have had no effect upon her composure. "Hey," David called to her.

"I'm glad that you're awake," Saavik said. "I was going to have to rouse you myself."

Taking a deep breath, David's olfactory nerves were a.s.saulted by a smell of sulphur hanging heavy in the air. He shook his head in an effort to clear his senses. "What was that noise?" he asked.

"Another eruption," she said, "but not a volcano. Fissures are opening in the continental crust. Readings suggest that it won't be long before the planet's tectonic plates begin collapsing into the mantle."

"My G.o.d," David said. He looked out across the landscape, observing the plumes of smoke billowing out from several newly created vents, the morning sky becoming painted with a hazy red glow.

"It's not safe here," Saavik announced.

"You can say that again."

"I'm not referring to the geological instability," she explained, picking up the tricorder and pointing to the display. "The search party is closing in on our position. And the life-form readings appear to be Klingon."

"Klingons? Can't say I've had the pleasure of meeting any, but it doesn't sound promising for two stranded and unarmed scientists, does it?"

"No, it does not," she agreed. "Come on. We must try to stay ahead of them and find new shelter."

Quickly they gathered their gear and moved to the mouth of the cave, then carefully began maneuvering their way down the rocky slope of the hillside toward the valley floor about fifty feet below. As he struggled to maintain his balance during the descent, David admired the lithe motion of Saavik as she appeared to navigate the terrain with little difficulty, even while continually observing the readings on her tricorder. The device began to beep its various warnings more rapidly as it tracked the motions of their adversaries.

"I have at least two readings off to the west," Saavik said, pointing to her left. "These two are sweeping the area but continue to approach our location. I also have a third, off to the northeast, somewhere beyond that ridge." She pointed right, toward the eastern edge of the raised plateau situated before them, the base of which was just a few hundred meters distant.

Behind her, David tried to focus on the tricorder's display as it bounced chaotically in her hand. "That's not good," David observed. "This means we have only one route of escape. Once we reach the base of this hill, we're essentially hemmed into the gorge between it and the ridge up ahead. Our only hope is to outrun them to the east, until the path opens into the clearing about a kilometer away."

"Then we must increase our pace," Saavik said, and did so. David struggled to match her speed, and despite a few tense moments when he feared losing his footing and tumbling headlong down the slope, they eventually finished scaling down the hillside and began a brisk run toward the eastern end of the gorge.

Minutes quickly pa.s.sed in tense silence. Before them, the path briefly widened into a small clearing. The wind, increasing in intensity, swirled and howled throughout the open s.p.a.ce. Above them, the sky was rapidly darkening, the sun blotted out by innumerable rising clouds of volcanic smoke and ash.

Saavik suddenly stopped, frowning down at the tricorder display. "d.a.m.n."

"What is it?" David asked, stepping up to look over her shoulder.

As outlined on the screen, the Klingon who was on his own had evidently rounded the adjacent ridge and entered the valley at the east end, and was now just a few hundred meters directly ahead. Saavik turned around and began scanning behind them, in the opposite direction. Two more life-sign readings flashed alarmingly. "It would appear that we are trapped," she said.

David immediately began glancing around at the high rock walls to either side of them, desperately looking for a place with a manageable slope or with easily accessible purchases that might allow them to climb out of the chasm, but even if both of them were skilled at rock climbing, there simply wasn't enough time to do so with any hope of a timely escape. "There's no easy way out of here," he conceded.

No response.

To his own surprise, David found himself in the unfamiliar position of envying the Starfleet officers who partic.i.p.ated in planetary away missions on a regular basis. Surely they would have received training on how to deal with hostile situations such as this. They wouldn't be standing here like fools, wondering what their next move should be.

Not to mention they'd have those shiny Starfleet-issue phasers.

So be it. He'd think his way out of this like a scientist. He knew the problem; now what were the possible solutions? "Okay, so that lone Klingon to the east will be entering this clearing in a few minutes. We have two options. One is to give ourselves up and hope for the best."

"I would not recommend that option," Saavik replied. "Our welfare will be of little concern to them."

"I agree. The other option is to hide." He swiveled his head about, considering where they might find sufficient camouflage, and settled upon a thicket of dense brush at the base of the southern wall of the gorge. "Come on," he said, motioning her to follow.

"We cannot expect a member of the search party to simply pa.s.s us by," she protested as they maneuvered in behind the growth, still tracking the imminent approach of their adversaries with the now-silenced tricorders. "He will be tracking our life signs as well."

"Then we have to hope to take him by surprise," David said as he flung his pack to the ground, feigning confidence as he supposed a leader should. "It's all we've got."

"Your fort.i.tude is admirable," Saavik replied, perhaps not entirely with sarcasm, before settling into a hushed silence as the Klingon entered the clearing.

Still exhausted from the run, David struggled to keep his labored breathing under control as he held his body as still as possible. Huddled close together as they were, he felt the warmth of Saavik's body next to his, and suddenly sensed a bit of awkwardness-they had shared something special the prior evening, and it seemed churlishly insensitive not to even have spoken of it the following morning. Granted, this was clearly not the most appropriate time to discuss the finer details of their personal relationship. Yet their untimely but propitious bond had deeply affected him, and as he gazed at her face peering out from their shelter, with her calm facade masking what he insightfully discerned to be tension and fear, he felt instinctively compelled to protect her.

From a distance, through the gaps in the tangle of branches and leaves, the Klingon didn't appear all that formidable-small of stature, his disruptor holstered, his attention focused upon his own tricorder in his hands. He had slowed his pace, sweeping the device from side to side as he attempted to narrow down the location of his quarry. The beeping sounds emanating from the tricorder increased to a furious rate, until finally the Klingon stopped and raised his head, staring directly at the foliage that concealed the sources of the two life signs he had sought. He turned off the device and pulled out his disruptor as he slowly advanced toward his hidden prize.

"You, in there!" he shouted. "Come out with your hands where I can see them."

David and Saavik remained silent and unmoving. The Klingon continued to approach.

"I said come out of there!"

David thought he could detect the slightest hesitancy-even apprehension-in the Klingon's gruff voice, and it emboldened him. His adversary now stood just a meter or so from the brush and was seconds away from pushing the branches aside to peer within. At his side, David gripped the strap of his own tricorder, allowing the device to swing loosely from the end, and waited. Just a bit closer...

In a single blurred motion, David sprung up from his crouched position and swung the tricorder in a wide arc, forcefully connecting with the side of his a.s.sailant's head.

Momentarily stunned, the Klingon stumbled backward with a m.u.f.fled groan; David, his fear now conquered by the effects of adrenaline, sensed his opportunity and leaped forward, clearing the top of the bush and colliding with the Klingon, sending them both tumbling to the ground.

As he landed, straddled on the Klingon's chest, David immediately grabbed the disruptor with both hands and attempted to pry apart the fingers that tightly held it. The weapon shook as the Klingon struggled to maintain his hold, and both he and David began to grunt with exertion. Despite the Klingon's superior strength, David's two hands slowly began to twist the disruptor out of his foe's unyielding grip as if torquing a wrench on a stubborn bolt, until the Klingon suddenly thrust out his free left hand and grabbed David's throat.

As the fingers constricted his windpipe and choked off his air, David shifted his right hand to his throat in an attempt to interpose his own fingers far enough to relieve the pressure. With a firm pulling motion, he created enough separation to allow a lungful of air before the grip was tightened even further. His left hand remained on the disruptor, no longer with any reasonable chance to s.n.a.t.c.h it away. He now hoped merely to prevent his opponent from using it at this close range.

Beneath him, he felt the Klingon's chest expand with a deep breath, and then with an explosive burst of force, David was flung by the neck to his left. In the same instant the Klingon used the strength of his legs to thrust his torso upward, knocking David off balance and rolling them together over their outstretched arms, jarring the disruptor loose from their clutches. David came to rest on his back, still gripped by his throat, with the Klingon astride him. He was able to tilt his head to the left just enough to see the weapon, large as life, lying mere inches in front of his eyes, and tried twisting his left arm at an impossible angle to retrieve it, only to see the Klingon's free hand land upon it and raise it up. But it was held by the barrel, not the grip, and as the Klingon fumbled to turn it in his hand, David knocked it from his grasp, sending it flying some distance out of their reach.

Growling, the Klingon again tightened his fingers around David's throat, and this time the young scientist, now in an entirely defensive position, was forced to use both hands to try to prevent his windpipe from being crushed. The Klingon's free right hand casually reached down to his belt and unsheathed a cruel-looking dagger. The blade was raised high, and David's eyes widened, helplessly awaiting the deadly downward thrust as his vision began to darken from lack of oxygen.

And suddenly the Klingon stiffened. He loosened his grip on David's neck, the dagger dropped from his hand, and he fell away to one side, revealing the stooping frame of Saavik, who had just released her own grip upon the Klingon's shoulder.

David gratefully sucked in lungfuls of air as he stared in wonder at Saavik. He had heard about the power of the Vulcan neck pinch, but often wondered if it was merely a myth. He was only too happy to see his doubts proven wrong.

"Are you injured?" Saavik asked.

David quickly took inventory of his body's moving parts. "No," he said with a raspy voice as his larynx slowly recovered from the abuse it had taken. "I guess I'm okay."

"Very well," she said with urgency as she quickly scampered over to the disruptor lying a few meters away and bent to retrieve it. "We must keep moving."

David struggled to his feet. Together they turned to the east and took no more than a few quick steps when a voice rang out behind them.

"Halt! Drop your weapons. Now!"

They froze. Saavik let the pistol drop from her grasp, and they both raised their arms in surrender.

"Turn around."

They did so, and saw another Klingon guard, scowling viciously as he held his disruptor trained upon both of them. In front of him, marching toward them with c.o.c.ksure determination, was the Klingon commander, looking over his new prisoners with glaring disapproval.

"I am Commander Kruge of the I.K.S. Katai." He did not make eye contact as he addressed them, giving the haughty impression that to be his audience was considered a privilege. "Your ship in orbit has been destroyed. And my science officer tells me that this planet will soon destroy itself. How fortunate for you that I intend to safely remove you from this place. But you need not show me your grat.i.tude just yet; in due time, you will happily repay me for my generosity."

David scowled at the insincerity of the Klingon's words. "This is Federation s.p.a.ce!" he exclaimed. "You can't just come barging in here like this!"

"Yet nonetheless, here I am," Kruge said, turning toward David. The Klingon looked David up and down, then shook his head and rolled his eyes. "I have seen the reports of a Starfleet admiral, describing in lurid detail how this planet came to exist. So I come here seeking answers, which you will gladly provide."

On the ground directly in front of them, the other Klingon guard began to stir, moaning miserably. Kruge looked down upon him with disgust.

"No, Maltz, don't get up," he said with condescending pleasantness. "We have everything under control. I should have known better than to trust you to handle a weakling human..." He then turned toward Saavik, and looked her over disapprovingly. "And a Vulcan woman."

"Half Vulcan," Saavik sternly corrected him. "I am also half Romulan."

Kruge's eyes widened with sudden revelation. As he stepped toward Saavik, the increasingly turbulent winds blew his long hair outward in a halo about his head, giving him the unsettling appearance of some kind of messianic zealot. "Aaaaaah...So then, it is true. The Romulans have conspired with the Federation against us."

"I am here only as a neutral scientific observer," Saavik said.

"Yes, of course," Kruge's voice dripped with sarcasm. "You will stand by 'neutrally' while the Federation tests out its new ultimate weapon, and plots the destruction of the entire Klingon Empire!"

The rumble of another earthquake shook their feet, providing an ominous punctuation to Kruge's words. He backed away from the young woman and began to slowly pace the ground in front of her while his two subordinate officers looked on. "It wasn't long ago that Klingons and Romulans were openly sharing each other's technology. I knew a Romulan woman...Charvanek, I think was her name. She was instrumental in getting the first cloaking device installed in my vessel."

Saavik raised her voice against the howl of the storm. "I'm sure you were quite smitten with her."

Kruge spun around in response. "She was a crazy b.i.t.c.h!" He approached Saavik again, his gaze locked upon her face. "But she was honorable. I trust I can expect the same from you?"

She considered this. "Well, I'm not crazy," she said. "But two out of three are reasonably accurate."

The commander squinted for a moment as he worked out the comment in his mind, then broke into a wily grin. Behind him, the horizon was dotted with distant volcanoes belching forth clouds of ash and occasional explosive eruptions of bright lava, staining the sky in deepening shades of crimson, and casting the Klingon's face in a demonic glow. "This may yet turn out to be rather interesting," he said.

Another tremor reverberated through the ground, and the escarpments surrounding them began to shed huge boulders, tumbling down into the ravine where they stood and narrowly missing them as the rocks rolled past. Maltz, who had gotten to his feet and retrieved his weapon, looked about them with growing consternation.

Kruge produced his communicator and activated it. "Transporter room! Five to bring up. Activate beam."

As the five figures were dissolved by the particle beam, the ground they had been standing upon heaved forth, breaking apart and then collapsing into a gaping chasm, releasing flames that licked their way up the sides of the abyss-releasing the forces within that would slowly tear apart the planetary crust, destroying the newborn world.

The squalid interior of the transporter room on Kruge's vessel slowly materialized around David, and he was immediately a.s.sailed by the dank smells that could only be produced by a dozen Klingon officers in cramped quarters on a ship with clearly inadequate ventilation. Without a word, he and Saavik were forcefully shoved from behind off the transporter pad. The young scientist turned and scowled at the Klingon entourage a.s.sembled on the pads behind him, but they simply laughed derisively while pushing their prisoners inexorably forward.

Upon reaching the open central corridor that spanned the length of the ship, Kruge shouted a command in Klingon, bringing his men to a halt. David felt a hand on his shoulder and the point of a disruptor lodged in his back. Kruge circled around to the front of the group and leveled his gaze at his two captive Federation scientists.

"The two of you," he said in English, "have been captured as enemies of galactic peace. If you choose to cooperate, I will reciprocate by sparing your lives. If you choose otherwise, the consequences will be most unpleasant. So, to begin, you will tell me the secrets of the Federation's new Genesis super-weapon."

David averted his gaze, nervously looking over at Saavik. Though maintaining her composure, the half Vulcan had set her jaw, and her sweeping eyebrows drew together sternly-clearly she was expending tremendous effort to hold her temper in check.

"We were sent merely to investigate the planet, and to report our findings," Saavik replied evenly and with amazing calm. "But we are not enlisted in Starfleet. Of the technology behind Genesis itself, we have no knowledge."

Kruge stepped up to Saavik until his face hovered just inches from hers, and stared into her unblinking eyes. Despite being a few feet away, David thought he could feel the hot draft from the Klingon's breath. "Then I hope that pain," Kruge growled, "is something you enjoy."

Saavik's only reaction to the taunt was to raise an eyebrow in mock allurement. "That," she said, "would depend upon the circ.u.mstances."

Kruge continued to stare her down for a few moments, but this time did not appear to find amus.e.m.e.nt in her impudence. David suffered a few tense seconds in fear of Kruge's response before the Klingon finally backed away and turned to the officer who held Saavik in his grip. "Maltz, take them both down to the lower deck." He continued to speak in English, obviously wanting his captives to understand every word. "Escort the woman to the brig. Torg, take the human to interrogation and..." He looked squarely at David. "Prepare him." With that, he spun on his heels to the right and, several steps later, vanished through the door to the bridge.

"Move," Torg commanded, pushing David and Saavik down the long corridor in the opposite direction. As they crossed from the forward hull into the main wing hull, they pa.s.sed several doors to crew quarters and an open entrance into what appeared to be a rather primitive sickbay. The steady hum of the impulse engines grew louder as they approached the engineering section at the aft end of the ship.

David felt his heartbeat racing as his imagination conjured up a hundred potential techniques of Klingon torture, each pa.s.sing through his mind in alarmingly vivid detail. He tried to calm himself by concentrating on the benign ones-perhaps they would have nothing more than a small wooden stool in a barren room with a single antique incandescent light bulb suspended overhead. He forced out a quiet laugh. "What do you think, Saavik? Will these guys do the old good cop, bad cop routine?"

Saavik looked at him with an expression of pained confusion.

"Never mind," David said. "But don't worry." He held up his chin, feigning confidence as best he could. "After all, we don't know anything, right?"

The young woman's tone was of sad resignation. "Of course not," she lied, glancing at their wardens. "But I somehow doubt they will accept that."

"Enough talking!" Torg shouted as he directed them to a stairwell on their right, descending down to the lower deck, appearing even more dimly lit than the one above. At the bottom of the stair they were made to stop, each of them still held at gunpoint. Maltz directed Saavik to the right while Torg forcefully shoved David toward the left.

"Hey! Take it easy!" David shouted. "Why do you have to separate us anyway?"

"You don't want her to watch this, human," Torg sneered.

"David!" Saavik called out as the distance between them grew. "Remember your friends on Regula One!" And then she disappeared around the corner into the brig.

Less than a minute later, David had been flung into a plain metal chair adorned with restraints in the center of a small, sterile-looking room. Torg had holstered his disruptor, and presently was pinning David's right arm down to the long, flat armrest of the chair while he worked to secure the large metal clasps to his forearm. For an instant David considered making a lunge for Torg's weapon while both of the Klingon's hands were occupied, but even if he were successful, David doubted that one man could get very far attempting to overpower a crew of a dozen armed Klingon officers.

He winced as the restraint tightened and bit into his skin, then Torg mercilessly began work on the other arm. David gazed around the room, noting the lack of any decor whatsoever, and in fact becoming amazed at the cleanliness compared with the rest of the ship, leading him to believe that the room had not previously been used-at least not for its intended purpose. Perhaps, he hoped, these Klingons weren't that skilled in the finer arts of interrogation after all.