“It is, Owen, and I’ll ask you to let me finish this.”

“Absolutely not!” Bonner exploded. “What is this, some kind of civilian tribunal?”

“Nothing of the sort,” Kyle assured him. This was his second strategic ploy of the day. He hoped it played out as well as his first. “But my son’s life was in danger today, and he helped save a lot of other lives. I think I’m entitled to a few questions and answers, here.”

“You have no official status here, Kyle,” Owen reminded him. “You’ve been missing for nearly two years. You are here as a favor to me, and I’ll ask you not to push things too far. That said, I agree, you are entitled to some answers.”

“I most strenuously object,” Bonner blustered. He lurched from his seat, face red and blotchy again, scalp dripping with sweat.

“Horace,” Owen said. “Sit down and shut up.”

Bonner glared at him, but noticed that everyone else in the room was staring, and finally returned to his seat.

“Kyle, you’d better explain yourself,” Owen suggested.

“Thank you, Owen. I will. Vice Admiral Bonner sent the U.S.S. Pegasuson a wild goose chase into disputed, dangerous space, even though, in fact, there was no information that Heavens Bladewas anywhere in the vicinity.”

There was an audible gasp from some in the room, and murmured conversation among others that quickly stopped when Kyle continued. “That part is just speculation, though I suspect if we examine the Vice Admiral’s logs we’ll see that it’s true. Something else is definitely true, though, confirmed for me just moments ago by the very capable Ensign Janeway. Vice Admiral Bonner had a stepson on Starbase 311 with me—a young man named Charles Heidl. Mr. Heidl was a scientist, not a military officer. Although Vice Admiral Bonner and Mr. Heidl were very close—as close as any father and son, I would guess, from what I’ve been able to learn—the relationship between them has been kept very secret. Possibly because Vice Admiral Bonner had, on numerous occasions, arranged for Starfleet favors for Mr. Heidl. Chief among these was helping to arrange funding, transportation, and a facility on Starbase 311 for some of Heidl’s experiments.”

Bonner looked at Kyle, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly, like a fish in a tank. Owen addressed Janeway, still seated next to where Kyle had been. “Is this true, Ensign Janeway?”

“Yes, sir. Once Mr. Riker told me precisely what to look for, it wasn’t hard to find the details.”

“We know that the Tholians attacked Starbase 311,” Kyle went on. “We know, through intercepted communications, that the Tholians did so because of intelligence, which they deemed believable, that Starbase 311 was to be the launching point for an incursion into Tholian space. Further, we know through hard experience what kind of response that would surely generate among the Tholians—precisely the kind that it did. A swift and vicious assault. That intelligence—again, this has been confirmed in the past few minutes by Ensign Janeway—came from the starbase itself.”

“Someone on the base signaled the Tholians and invited attack?” Captain Jensen asked, incredulous.

“That’s correct, Captain,” Kyle replied calmly. “There’s one more piece to the puzzle, but this one I haven’t yet been able to confirm. Even Ensign Janeway isn’t a miracle worker, it seems, and we’ll need a bit more time to study this. But I recall that Starfleet or the Federation was planning an investigation into experiments on Starbase 311—to be specific, whatever experiments Mr. Heidl was engaged in. Becoming aware of this investigation, Vice Admiral Bonner contacted Heidl and ordered him to shut down the experiments and destroy the evidence, according to their prearranged plan. The best way to ensure that the experiments would never be investigated in depth, of course, was to arrange the destruction of the starbase. So the Tholians were contacted. And they came, and all of us on board—all except me, by the merest twist of fate—were killed.”

Kyle had moved closer and closer to Bonner as he spoke. Bonner couldn’t take his eyes off his accuser, and his face seemed almost to be collapsing in on itself as the truth of his crimes was revealed. His gaze was full of hatred, and his hands seemed to have taken on a life of their own, twisting and wringing one another as if they were possessed.

“What was it, Bonner?” Kyle demanded, bending close to his prey. “Genetic experimentation? Something banned by the Federation, at any rate. Something that couldn’t be done closer to home, where the authorities might stumble across it.”

“I can’t ... I can’t tell you!” Bonner cried. “He’ll ... he’ll ...”

“You’ll be telling a court martial, soon enough,” Owen Paris said. “You might as well come clean.”

“Actually, I think I can guess,” Kyle said. He glanced over at Janeway, who understood the signal and rose from her seat. “Based on what’s happened since. It was some kind of mind control experiment, wasn’t it? If we run a check, I suspect we’ll find that the crew members who have attacked me were all, at one point or another, stationed at Starbase 311. Long before the Tholian attack, of course—probably long before I was there. But while Mr. Heidl was there, running his experiments. And even after it was all over, they remained susceptible to suggestion.”

“But ... isn’t Heidl dead?” Owen asked. “Or did he make it off the starbase in time?”

Bonner was simply shaking his head now, tears beginning to run down his cheeks. Kyle couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry for the man, though.

“No one made it off in time,” Kyle said. “The last thing Ensign Janeway checked for me was a travel log. Vice Admiral Bonner was in deep space when the Tholians attacked. He was, in fact, not too terribly far from Tholian space. I believe he went there to help his stepson eliminate evidence, and to provide a ride home for Mr. Heidl. For whatever reason, though, Mr. Heidl missed the boat.”

“He went back,” Bonner mumbled, his face buried in his hands. “I ... we went there to bring him home.” He dropped his hands and turned his head slowly, facing everyone in the room, as if they were all his accusers. “We came to my ship, but we had forgotten to make sure some of the records were destroyed. So we went back.”

Kyle noted the change in subject pronoun, and realized that Bonner’s problems were even deeper than he had thought. And he had thought they were pretty bad indeed.

“What was it, Bonner? Am I right?”

Bonner nodded and answered wetly. “Mental control and manipulation. Limited range, but very ... effective. We made ... remarkable progress. But then, we went back and ... we talked, via closed-channel communications. ‘They’re here!’ we shouted, and then we could hear the noise of the Tholian torpedoes, and the explosions. We didn’t ... didn’t hear Charles anymore, but the channel stayed open and we heard the rest of it. The Tholians, when they boarded the starbase and searched it, destroying every survivor. Except one. Except Riker.”

“Horace,” Owen said, his voice gentle. “You’re saying ‘we.’ What do you mean by that? Who?”

“He’s ... he’s in here, with us. Charles. We can’t explain ... maybe our mental powers were so well developed, by that time ... that we were able to make the jump across space.”

And maybe,Kyle thought, you’re just nutty as a fruitcake.

“Horace, we can get you some help,” Owen said.

“No!” The word was an explosion. “We don’t need your help!” Bonner leapt from his chair, sending it flying backward behind him, and whipped a phaser from his belt holster. He aimed it at Kyle and pulled the trigger.

Chapter 39

Kyle had expected something like this, though he wasn’t at all sure what form it would take, and he had warned Ensign Janeway to get ready for it. At his signal she had taken up a place at the light panel for the room, and as soon as Bonner drew his weapon, she slapped at the panel, plunging the room into utter darkness. Kyle threw himself to the floor, underneath the solid conference table. He heard the phaser discharge, saw the room briefly illumined by its beam. Shouts rang out all around the room.