“I reckon we’re talkin’ about a hundred and twenty, maybe a hundred and thirty troops,” Quinn said as he finished fiddling with the projector’s controls. “Looks like they’re usin’ a virtual perimeter to keep the workers from runnin’ off. Nothin’ we can’t bypass to get in.” Pointing at the scientists in the recording, he added, “Only a few of these labcoat guys. Don’t think they’ll be a problem.”

McLellan swallowed a bite of her vegetable wrap—the least disgusting option from their remaining rations—and said, “I think the real problem is your old pal, Zett. Are you sure he said the object in the temple had been stolen from Vanguard?”

“Not in so many words, but that was the gist,” Quinn said. “Look, don’t worry about Zett. He seems to think I’m here work in’ an angle, which means our cover’s safe.”

“I’m not worried about our cover,” McLellan said. “I’m worried about you getting killed by an assassin with a grudge.”

Quinn shook his head. “Ain’t gonna happen. He got the drop on me once. Now that I know he’s here, I’ll be ready next time.” He motioned toward the holographic projection. “Let’s focus on this. We’ve got less than forty-eight hours before your Starfleet buddies get here. If we want off this rock, we need to do everything we can to put the lobster-heads in a twist.”

McLellan shoved the last bite of her wrap into her mouth and studied the projection while she chewed. “Okay,” she said at last. “Whatever that glowing thingamajig is, if the Klingons took it from Vanguard, we need to find a way to take it back.”

“Hang on,” Quinn said. “Smackin’ a bees’ nest is one thing. Stickin’ your hand in to steal the honey is another.”

Lifting her hands in mock surrender, McLellan said, “If you want to play it safe, let’s talk about lying low till our backup gets here. But if you want to make a difference, we need to find a way to get that gemstone. Because if the Klingons bug out and take it with them, we might never get another shot at it.”

He unleashed a disgusted sigh. “Goddammit,” he muttered. “Fine. Last I saw, they had it patched into the Conduit through some kind of pedestal. If it’s still there in the open, we might be able to draw their forces away with a hit-and-run attack and then slip inside to make the grab.”

Backing up the holographic playback, McLellan pointed out the image of the scientists taking the object from a shielded case. “What if they store it in there between experiments?”

Cocking his head and frowning, Quinn said, “Pickin’ the lock’ll take too long. We’d have to grab the whole case and make a run for it.”

“But then the grab’s not a one-person job anymore,” she said. “And sneaking two people inside increases the risk.”

He shrugged and flashed a grin. “You knew the job was dangerous when you took it.”

She shook her head. “We need more intel. I have to know whether they leave the stone in place or pack it up.”

“So we’re talkin’ about another recon op,” Quinn said. “Gettin’ that close to the temple won’t be easy unless we ask Lirev’s people for help. And this time we’ll need to keep a better eye out for Zett.”

“Y’know, I lied before,” McLellan said. “I am worried about him talking to the Klingons. Whether he knows we’re with SI or not, if he gives them a heads-up we’re out here, it could mean big trouble.”

Quinn nodded. “True, but I don’t think that’s his game. He’s waited a really long time to cap me himself. If he goes and gets the lobster-heads involved, they might get all gung-ho and kill me before he gets a chance to gloat.”

“Yes, that would be a shame,” McLellan deadpanned.

“Just callin’ it like I see it,” Quinn said. “Still, no point gettin’ sloppy this close to the finish line. We should assume he’s workin’ with ’em, and that they know I’m here.”

McLellan nodded. “Sensible. So how do we play it?”

“The only way I know how,” Quinn said. “Head-on.”

42

September 10, 2267

Night had fallen, and Pennington and T’Prynn were still walking.

Two moons had risen as the sky dimmed. One had climbed above the horizon shortly after dusk; the second rose as the first stars appeared, and it pursued its sibling in slow degrees across the dome of the sky.

Progress across the desert had been slower than Pennington had expected. On Vulcan the paths had been mostly across the flats, or through rocky passes in the L-langon mountain range. Here he and T’Prynn struggled to find solid footing; each step in the loose sand was followed by random sinking and sliding.

Since leaving the ship, T’Prynn hadn’t stopped once—not for food or rest—and Pennington hadn’t been able to muster the courage to ask her for a break. Nothing on the horizon ahead of them promised any respite.

As they descended another balance-challenging slope, T’Prynn broke the silence with a softly spoken question.

“Why were you unfaithful to your wife?”

Delivered without provocation or preamble, the question caught Pennington by surprise. For a moment he thought about deflecting her inquiry with a glib remark, but he felt the tug of his conscience and knew he was overdue for a frank personal accounting.

“I wish I could say I had a good reason,” he said. “The truth is, it was just the latest in a long series of mistakes I made with Lora, starting with getting married.” T’Prynn slowed her pace and sidestepped to allow him to walk beside her as he continued. “I probably never should have married her in the first place. When I started dating her, I stole her from some other bloke, just to see if I could. But as soon as I had her I started sabotaging the relationship. Making passes at her friends. Flirting with girls I’d meet while traveling for work. A couple of those turned into flings.”

Casting back through the muddy currents of his memory, he struggled to make sense of his own actions. “On one level, I think I wanted to get caught, to be let off the hook. But I knew how much Lora loved me, how much she trusted me. I told myself I had to hide what I was to keep from hurting her, but the truth is I knew I’d never find anyone else who’d love me the way she did, and I was afraid of losing her.”

T’Prynn asked in a nonjudgmental way, “Did you do this because you feared being alone?”

“I don’t think so,” Pennington said. “I was selfish more than anything else. I wanted the comfort and security of a committed relationship with the excitement of fresh conquests and new romances. Even when I was asking Lora to marry me, part of me was screaming, Don’t do it!I knew I was getting married for the wrong reasons, but the only other option was to give her up, and I wasn’t strong enough to do that.”

A cool night breeze tousled his fair hair and pulled a few strands of T’Prynn’s raven tresses free of her long ponytail. The desert was eerily quiet except for the hush of the wind.

“Did you ever love your wife?”

The question drew a bittersweet smile from Pennington. “Yes, I did. For a time, at the beginning. Just like I loved all the women I’ve been with: for a time.” The smile left him. “I’ve always been this way. There’s something broken in me. I only ever want what’s denied me; if I manage to possess it, I don’t want it anymore. I get bored.” He felt T’Prynn looking at him, and he turned his head to meet her gaze. “Some part of my psyche confuses love with sexual conquest. I can only stay interested as long as it’s a chase.”

They crested another dune and began the next careful descent. T’Prynn asked, “Does this self-knowledge help you control your behavior?”

“I thought it would,” Pennington said. “But it doesn’t. I just make the same mistakes, over and over. Sometimes I think I’ll never really connect with anyone, not like others do. Or if I do, I won’t be worthy of it.” Throwing another sheepish look at T’Prynn, he added, “I’m a lonely wanker, but when I think of all the stupid things I’ve done, I guess maybe I deserve to be.”