Rather than wait for the next attack, Kyle doubled his fists together and swung them like a baseball bat, catching the side of Cook’s face. Cook’s head snapped sideways and the fight went out of him. He slumped to the street.

Before Kyle could catch his breath, two Starfleet security officers ran up to him, phasers out and pointed at Cook. “You’re a little late,” Kyle said. “I thought you were supposed to protect me, not just clean up the mess afterward.”

“Sorry, sir,” one of the security team said. Her hair was a mass of tight blond coils and her uniform sleeves bulged at the biceps. “We were trying to stay out of sight, to draw out your attacker. And then, well, it looked like you had things under control.”

The other officer, a male with dark hair and a somber face, knelt down next to the body in the street. “It’s Carson Cook,” he said.

The blonde nodded. “He escaped yesterday from the mental care facility he’s been living in,” she explained to Kyle. “Nobody thought he could so much as open a door.”

“Apparently he’s better.”

“Doesn’t look like it from here,” the male officer said. He held up Carson Cook’s head. Cook’s eyes were open but there was no spark of life in them. His mouth was slack, a mixture of blood and saliva running down his chin. The officer waved his hand in front of Cook’s eyes but they didn’t track, didn’t even blink. “He looks just the same as ever.”

“But you saw him attack me,” Kyle insisted.

“Yes, we saw it,” the blonde said. “Doesn’t make sense, does it?”

“Not a bit,” Kyle agreed. “But then, a lot of things about this whole situation haven’t made sense for a long time. That’s the only consistency, in fact.”

“Well, maybe this will put an end to it,” the blonde officer suggested.

Kyle shook his head. “No, it won’t. Cook’s just one man. He’s a tool, somehow, but he’s not what this is all about.”

The officer shrugged. “One thing at a time, I guess. We’ll get him picked up and put back into custody. In a more secure facility, this time—he’s a murderer, now. And we’ll stick a little closer from now on.”

“Sounds good,” Kyle said. “I was just going to Paolo’s there for some dinner. That shook up my appetite a bit but I think I can still eat.”

“Let me have a look inside first, sir,” she said. “Just in case.”

“Fine,” Kyle said. “Go ahead.”

He glanced back at the male officer, who had just used his combadge to call for “help removing Cook’s comatose body. But as Kyle watched, Cook—his eyes animated again—snatched the phaser from the officer’s holster and triggered it. The beam caught the male officer full in the torso. He screamed once and then fell onto the sidewalk, his uniform shirt smoldering.

Cook turned the phaser toward Kyle, who dropped flat on the sidewalk just in time to miss the beam that shot over his head. Cook tracked him down and fired again. Kyle rolled to the side and the beam missed again, but not by much. Before Cook could aim again, a phaser blast caught him in the head. Cook twitched once, dropped the stolen phaser, and was still.

“Damn!” the blonde said as she rushed to her partner’s side. “How do you keep up with that? One second he’s basically an empty shell, and the next he’s alert and deadly.”

“I wish I knew,” Kyle admitted.

She held two fingers against her partner’s neck. “He’s gone,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “Mack’s a great guy. Nice wife, terrific kids, the whole package, you know?”

“I’m very sorry,” Kyle said. He wanted to be sympathetic, but at the same time he didn’t take his eyes off Cook, just in case.

When the female officer spoke again, there was a new edge in her voice, of anger, even rage. “I don’t know what you’re mixed up in, sir, but it’s getting pretty expensive. First the attendant at the care facility, and now Mack.”

Kyle put a hand on her shoulder, but kept an eye on Cook. He had hoped to be able to question his attacker—whoever it turned out to be. But even if Cook had survived the phaser blast, wherever his mind was, he was beyond interrogation. “I know it is,” he said softly. “It’s been expensive for a long time: If there’s a way to finish it, I’m going to find it, though. You can count on that.”

Chapter 34

Will was exhausted.

The away party had taken more energy out of him than he’d anticipated. He hadn’t had to do much of anything, but the level of tension had been draining, and now that his shift was over all he wanted to do was hit the rack and sleep until he had to report for duty the next morning. The last hour or so on the bridge, flying out of the Candelar system, he’d barely been able to stifle his yawns. Captain Pressman, though, looked alert and crisp as ever, and Will hadn’t wanted to let on how tired he was.

It was funny, he thought, how different the pace of life onboard was compared to the Academy. At the Academy, the day was broken up more—different classes, different faces, and different activities—so there was always variety. When he was on duty he was on the bridge most of the time, with the same crew and the same responsibilities, and at the end of the day he was almost always beat. He guessed he’d get used to it, and once he had a chance to start an exercise regime he’d have more energy. So far, though, that hadn’t happened, and it wouldn’t tonight.

As he made his way down the corridor to his quarters, nodding to crew members whose names he was trying to keep straight in his head, he was stopped by a hand gripping his shoulder. “Will,” a voice said, “I just wanted to thank you.”

Will turned to see Marden Zaffos looking intently at him. The security guard, a couple of years older than Will, had a thick mass of dark curly hair, and around his eyes there were dark smudged rings that reminded Will of a raccoon.

“No problem,” Will replied. “I don’t know if you heard, but Luwadis was able to quell the riot before too many were hurt. The mob is probably still mad at him for calling us in, but my impression is they’re even madder at us.”

Marden nodded, his hands folded across his chest. “Can’t really blame them,” he said. “But I know I should never have gone out onto that balcony. That was a stupid mistake. I just wanted to see ... to get a glimpse of Candelar.”

“We all make mistakes,” Will said, biting back another yawn.

“Some are worse than others.” Marden eyed the ceiling for a moment, and cleared his throat. “Can I talk to you, Will? Someplace more private?”

Will hoped this wouldn’t take long. He could almost hear his bed calling to him. “Sure,” he agreed, not wanting to turn away a fellow crew member, and potential friend, who clearly had something important on his mind. “I’m just around the corner, if that’s okay.”

“That would be great,” Marden said. “If you have something else you need to do, we could talk another time ...”

“No, now’s fine,” Will said. “I don’t have any plans except for sleeping.” He led the way to his quarters and opened the door. Marden followed him in. Once inside, Will lowered the bed and sat on it, his back up against the bulkhead. He offered Marden the desk chair.

“I should never have gone on that mission,” Marden said. “My mother’s father was from Handihar.”

“In the Candelar system,” Will observed.

“That’s right. Her mother, my grandmother, was human, and my father’s family is all human. So I just have that little bit of Handiharian in me. But my grandfather always told me these great stories about his homeworld, when I was a boy. I never thought I’d see the place. Candelar IV isn’t exactly the same thing, but I figured it was the closest I’d ever get, and I just couldn’t resist taking a look. I didn’t think it would be a problem, but I guess I wasn’t really thinking it through. I put us all in danger, and I’m sorry.”

“We were never really in danger,” Will pointed out. “We always had the option of beaming out before there was trouble.”