Quinn wished he could do the same, but terror compelled him to watch.

The scientists observed the illuminated glyphs on the wall while they made adjustments on their console. They seemed to be working from a checklist. One of them would enter a command, and another would confirm which symbol responded with a momentary increase in brightness.

As they worked, the entity smothering the girl became pale and spectral. Its shape was monstrous: as large as a rhinoceros, it was part lizard and part bug; sinewy limbs ended in clawed extremities; its maw gaped open to reveal swordlike fangs; a stinger-tipped tail whipped hypnotically behind it.

Some kind of organ shot from the ghostly creature’s mouth and vanished into the girl’s chest. Her screaming ceased. She convulsed, and her eyes snapped open. Then she shriveled like a deflating balloon. Fissures formed in her desiccating skin as her dulled eyes sank into their sockets. Within moments all the color of her body faded to white.

A stentorian roar shook the temple. Quinn and the Klingons below him covered their ears. The force of the cacophony pummeled the husk of the girl’s body into dust and bones. Then the clamor ended, leaving only its sonorous echoes to chase one another through the ruins’ empty spaces.

On every obsidian wall, glyphs blazed with crimson light—as did the twelve-sided artifact on the pedestal, from which Quinn felt a sickening aura of fear. He had no idea what that bizarre gem was, but one look at the girl’s blanched skeleton was enough to convince him the artifact was too dangerous to leave in the hands of the Klingons—whose scientists were hard at work documenting every sensor reading from their callous living sacrifice.

Quinn switched off and put away his tricorder, planted his final explosive charge, fixed his cowl to cover his face, and stole away down the steps. He resolved to act quickly; there was no time to wait for Starfleet to step in.

Whatever it takes,he vowed, this ends tonight.

44

T’Prynn lay prone on hot sand beside Tim Pennington, observing the activity inside the Shedai Conduit, which was partially cloaked by the desert-worn stone edifice of a decaying ruin. The human journalist gazed through a pair of compact holographic binoculars, while T’Prynn looked through a slender field scope borrowed from a rifle in the Skylla’s weapons locker.

They were witnessing a gruesome spectacle.

Something either released or produced by a glowing object on a pedestal at the center of the Conduit consumed what T’Prynn presumed to be an adolescent native female. The process appeared to have been initiated and monitored by a team of Klingon scientists inside the temple. When the flurry of light ended, a thunderous booming resonated from within the ruins.

More troubling to T’Prynn was the psychic disturbance that followed it. A concentrated wave of projected fear emanated from the obsidian apparatus, and it seemed to produce anxiety in the Klingons, their native workers, and even in Pennington, who flinched, lowered his binoculars, and ducked behind the dune.

Marshalling her psionic defenses, T’Prynn suppressed her own natural flight reaction and continued her observation.

“Jesus,” whispered Pennington. “Did you see that?”

“Yes,” T’Prynn said.

He palmed sweat from his face and took a few deep breaths. “What the hell happened in there? What’d they do to that girl?”

“She appears to have been sacrificed to trigger some hidden function of the Shedai Conduit.”

Tucking his binoculars back into a belt pouch under his robe, Pennington asked, “Sacrificed to what?”

“I am not certain,” T’Prynn admitted. “However, given the circumstances, it is highly likely a Shedai entity of some kind is involved.” She peered through her targeting scope again and watched the scientists gather warily around the radiant polyhedron mounted on a pedestal. “The new element in this situation appears to be that luminescent object. I am unaware of anything like it previously being associated with the Shedai.”

Pennington nodded. “So you think that’s what Kane stole from Vanguard for the Klingons?”

“That is my current working hypothesis,” T’Prynn said. “If it is important enough to be of interest to Klingon Imperial Intelligence, then it very likely is of equal or greater interest to the Federation.”

“Right,” Pennington said. “Now that we’ve got that sorted, all we need to do is get back to the Skyllawithout getting noticed by the Klingons, and we can signal Starfleet.”

He seemed relieved as he began backing down the dune.

“No,” T’Prynn said.

Pennington stopped and wore a stunned expression. “Beg your pardon?”

“Whatever that object on the pedestal is,” T’Prynn said, “it enables the Klingons to access previously unknown functions of the Conduits. It might also have applications for other aspects of Shedai technology. We must not leave such a dangerous item in Klingon control for any length of time.”

Holding up his hands, Pennington replied, “Hang on, love. You said this was just a recon mission.”

“I said we would not take direct action unless it was absolutely necessary. In this case, I believe it is.”

Under his breath he said, “I bloody knew it.”

She continued, “We must acquire that crystal and bring it back to Starfleet.”

He shook his head. “There’s two of us and a hundred of them. How are we supposed to take it without getting shot?”

She arched one eyebrow. “Very carefully.”

“I meant, what’s our plan?”

She avoided Pennington’s gaze and looked through her scope at the Klingons’ compound. “Most of the details are still taking shape,” she said. “But one seems to have been chosen for us. We must wait until dark. But when night falls … we strike.”

45

Quinn’s mellulhadn’t slowed from a full gallop since he had taken off its blinders back in the desert. He had been forced to clutch the vulture-faced steed’s mane and coil the reins around his forearms to keep himself steady while the creature raced back toward Leuck Shire.

That thing back in the temple must’ve spooked him as bad as it wigged me,Quinn figured.

Thanks to the creature’s unflagging speed, it was barely dusk by the time Quinn reined it back to a trot on the outskirts of Tegoresko. The Klingons still had the center of the village under surveillance, which meant Quinn had to take a roundabout path back to the Rocinante.

Now that his mellulhad slowed its pace, and the air was no longer breezing past him, he caught a whiff of the musky odor produced by the animal’s exertion. “I was wonderin’ what that stink was,” he said to the beast while tousling its mane. “Have to hose you down when we get back to the ship.”

He tugged the reins to guide the animal around a turn that would lead to a pass sheltered by the piled wreckage of several fallen buildings. Two sets of hands reached out from either side and grabbed his mellul’s bridle, halting the creature.

Quinn’s hand was already pulling his stun pistol from its holster when he recognized the two Denn women who had stopped his mount. “Naya, Lirev,” he said. “What’re you doing here?”

Naya replied in an agitated whisper, “He took her, Mister Quinn! He came with the Klingons and took her away!”

Dismounting in a hurry, Quinn looked at Lirev, who seemed a bit calmer. “Took who?”

“Your friend. The one you call Bridy Mac.”

The news filled Quinn with a nauseating feeling of dread. “The Klingons have Bridy?”

“No,” said Naya, shaking her head frantically. “They helped him, but hetook her.”