She handed him a padd that displayed a navigational heading. “My calculations show that the slavers are less than a day ahead of us at our maximum speed. If Shran is correct, we should have little difficulty catching up with them.”
Archer rubbed his chin as he considered his next move. “The heading they’re on takes them right toward the heart of the Romulan Star Empire. In another day, they’ll be even closer. Going after them is incrediblyrisky.” He put the padd down on the table and looked up at T’Pol. “But that’s not the worstof our problems.”
The Vulcan first officer raised her eyebrow inquisitively, but said nothing.
“Gardner just ordered us back to Earth,” Archer said. “Now.”He related the rest of his conversation with the admiral, while T’Pol listened without comment.
“This puts us in a bit of a bind. We know that the Orions took the Aenar, but we have no solid proof yet of why. The only clear information we have on the Aenar’s current whereabouts comes from Shran’s psychic link to Jhamel.”
T’Pol moved one of the ready room’s other chairs out and sat down in it. “Captain, given everything we now know about the Aenar abductions, and the information you obtained on Rigel X about the Adigeons, the only logical answer is that the Aenar are being delivered to the Romulans. The Romulans have only one purpose for the Aenar: to pilot their telepresence drones in attacks against their enemies.
“So the question becomes, which world will be their first target? Will they attack Earth, in an attempt to disrupt or even destroy the Coalition? Or will their initial target be Coridan, a prospective Coalition member that possesses more dilithium wealth than the rest of the Coalition combined, and which reportedly has much faster ships?”
“Which do youthink it is?” Archer asked.
“The answer to that remains unclear, given our current information,” T’Pol said. “But we arerelatively certain that stopping the delivery of the Aenar to the Romulans could greatly hamper whatever plans the Romulans aremaking, whomeverthey are making them against. Securing the Aenar would therefore be an offensive tactic rather than merely a defensive one.”
Archer interlaced his fingers behind his head and leaned back in his chair. “If we go to rescue the Aenar, we’re disobeying a direct order. Which could have serious repercussions, even if we’re right.”
T’Pol tilted her head slightly, and the merest hint of mischief crept into her eyes. “Did the admiral give you explicit directions to begin your journey to Earth as soon as you broke contact?”
Archer smiled broadly. “Not explicitly.He said it would be in our best interests to do so, and noted that he’d see me within a week.”
“Then you still have some six days and twenty‑three hours in which to arrive,” T’Pol said, looking out the viewport, her expression changing from mischievous to calculating. “We are within a day of catching up with the ship carrying the Aenar. If all goes well, that diversion should prove to be a brief one.” She paused for a moment, then turned to look directly into his eyes. “Should you decide to makethat diversion, of course.”
“I’m sure we’ll still catch hell for this, but Gardner wasn’tall that precise in his orders, now that I come to think of it,” Archer said, tugging the waist of his jump‑suit down as he rose to his feet. “I don’t see any reason we can’t make a briefcourse diversion. We’ll just have to make up for the lost time double‑quick on the way back home.”
Archer pushed one thought into the back of his mind. All of this supposes that we’re the ones who come out on top in the fight to free the Aenar. Can’t assume that the Romulans on that ship will be pushovers.
On the bright side, if wedon’t win, I probably won’t have to worry all that much about the wrath of Sam Gardner.
Thirty
Friday, February 21, 2155
Rator II
TRIP STARED,GRIMLY FASCINATED, as the barrel of the disruptor pistol swung in his direction and remained leveled directly at his face. Switching his grip so that he held the weapon in both hands, Ch’uihv regarded him through narrowed eyelids.
This is it, Charles,Trip told himself. Time seemed to slow down precipitously, the way clocks did aboard space vessels that accelerated nearly to light speed without actually going to warp. He was hyperaware that within another elastic moment or two he would be just as dead as Phuong, whose still smoldering corpse he had to continue studiously ignoring in order to avoid becoming violently sick.
Soon, he would be as dead as almost everyone in his life already believed him to be.
He judged the distance between himself and his executioner–about two meters–and decided he had nothing to lose by leaping straight at him. Maybe Ch’uihv would be surprised just enough to give him a fighting chance. Of course, he knew that wouldn’t save him from the armed guards.
But what the hell,he thought. Trip tensed his leg muscles and bent his knees slightly, preparing to take what would very likely be the last long‑odds gamble of his life.
“Stop this!” came a shout from behind, disrupting Trip’s concentration and causing a look of mild surprise to cross Ch’uihv’s normally stoic features.
It took Trip a beat to recognize the frail Ehrehin as the source of the cry.
“Don’t take your foolish rage out on Cunaehr, you execrable coward,” Ehrehin said, his voice astonishingly calm and resolute. “There’s no reason for you to do any more killing.”
Ch’uihv chuckled and shook his head. “On the contrary, Doctor. There is indeed a very sound reason. I want something very badly, and unless you provide it immediately I will demonstrate precisely howbadly by killing your beloved Cunaehr–if that’s really his name–right where he stands.”
The new stardrive,Trip thought.
“Don’t do it, Doctor,” he said, turning toward the elderly scientist. Before he could react, a crushing blow came down against the side of his head, and he crumpled to the deck, stunned but still conscious.
“Give me detailed schematics of your avaihh lli vastamwork, Doctor. Or else I will apply more than the butt of my weapon to your aide’s skull.”
Sprawled prone on the unyielding hangar floor, Trip felt the cold barrel of Ch’uihv’s weapon pressing painfully into the back of his neck.
“Choose, Doctor,” Ch’uihv growled. “Now!”
“Ehrehin, don’t–” Trip said, his voice muffled by the deck and his words interrupted by a bout of nausea, no doubt caused by the blow to his head.
“I will begin counting now, Doctor. Sei.” Thanks to his internal translator, Trip recognized the Romulan word for “three.”
“This is absurd,” Ehrehin said.
“Kre.”
Two,Trip counted. The weapon continued jabbing painfully into the back of his neck.
“There’s no reason this has to happen.”
“Hwi.”
One.
Ch’uihv’s pistol clicked loudly, sounding to Trip like the rattle of a guillotine blade being drawn upward. He tried to persuade his body to roll to the side, even though he still felt stunned and nauseated from the blow he’d just taken. Besides, he knew there was no way he could outrun Ch’uihv’s weapon, even if he were in perfect condition.
“Lliu.”
That’s “zero,”Trip thought. The stench of Phuong’s charred flesh assaulted his nostrils, like a portent of what was to come. He closed his eyes tightly, preparing as best he could for the inevitable.
“If you kill him, I shall kill myself,” Ehrehin said impatiently. “And my knowledge will die with me.”
Trip opened his eyes and saw that the scientist was now standing so close to him that there was no way to hit Trip without taking them both down.