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“Thank you.”

  Within moments, they turned a corner, and the walls were replaced by what appeared to be a giant, smooth slab of black marble. Corsi, Drew, and Hawkins also shone their wristlamps on it, giving Sonya a better view. The slab, she suspected, was a large viewscreen. In front of it, she could see a very comfortable-looking chair, which was also distressingly close to the ground. Various buttons dotted the wide arms of the chair.

  “All right, I give up—what is it?” Corsi asked.

  “The main terminal,” Sonya said. She pointed at the slab. “That’s the viewscreen. The operator sits in the chair, and operates it with those buttons.”

  Hawkins looked dubiously at the chair. “They sit in that ?”

  “The Eerlikka are fairly short,” Sonya said, “with small legs for their height, generally, so this is the right size for them. And the viewscreen can afford to be this large—they have wide eyes and a breadth of vision much greater than we do.”

  As if on cue, the viewscreen lit up with several images. Some were views of parts of a city being subjected to bad weather—Sonya assumed it was a city on Eerlik. Others showed bits of data in a language Sonya recognized as Makaro, the most common language on Eerlik—she couldn’t read a word of it, of course, but she had seen similar writing in the mission profile. In addition, a small hole that looked like some kind of dataport opened in the smooth surface. Sonya could detect no seams. It was as if the hole just appeared, though that could have just been a function of the dim light.

  “I must warn you not to sit in the chair,” said Ganitriul suddenly. “The chair is designed to allow only those whose DNA patterns match those of the presently ordained clergy to sit in it. I have been unable to disable that function.”

  “That’s bad, isn’t it?” Drew said.

  “There is an alternative. 110, you are a member of the Bynar race, are you not?”

  “Yes, I am,” 110 said.

  “In that case, you may interface directly with my dataport.”

  110 hesitated. “Very well.” He moved toward the dataport.

  As he did so, Corsi, who had been gazing at her tricorder, cried, “Wait!”

  “What is it, Lieutenant Commander?”

  “I’m reading a ton of electricity flowing through that port.”

  “That is normal,” Ganitriul said.

  “I really don’t think that 110 can handle it.”

  “Bynar epidermis is able to conduct electrical charges, Lieutenant Commander,” 110 said.

  “Not this much. We’re talking eighty thousand kilojoules.”

  “That is not what my readings indicate. Please wait a moment.” A pause, then Ganitriul continued. “My apologies. It appears my readings were incorrect. Lieutenant Commander Corsi, please tell me what you are reading now.”

  Corsi looked at her tricorder. “Two hundred kilojoules. That’s within 110’s tolerances.”

  Nodding, 110 said, “Yes, it is.”

  110 placed a small hand inside the dataport, which altered its size to accommodate the size and shape of the Bynar’s hand. A nimbus of electricity started to form around 110, further illuminating the chamber. Then the Bynar let out a rapid-fire burst in the binary language of his people, which the universal translator simply rendered as a highpitched whine. Bart had said, when Sonya first arrived on the da Vinci, that the translators could be modified to understand the Bynar tongue, but Sonya had never seen the need. Now she was sorry she hadn’t taken him up on it.

  While this went on, Drew said, “Sir, I’ve got some weird readings here.”

  “Define weird , Drew,” Corsi said.

  “I’m getting occasional life-form readings—but then they just disappear. The tricorder thinks they’re Eerlikka.”

  “My apologies,” Ganitriul said. “Those are sensor ghosts. That is a part of the tour that is given to visitors to these caverns. I provide a recreation of the excavation of the moon, and it includes representations of the workers. The simulation includes sensor readings of the workers. I will attempt to prevent that program from running, but I can make no assurances that I will be successful.”

  “Do the best you can, Ganitriul,” Sonya said, trying to sound understanding.

  Corsi walked up to her and said, in a low tone that only Sonya could hear, “It’s a computer, Commander, not a kid with a toy.”

  Matching the security chief’s tone, Sonya said, “It’s an intelligent computer. I think treating it with respect is perfectly reasonable.”

  Shrugging, Corsi said, “I guess.”

  Sonya noticed the light in the cavern growing dimmer. She turned to see that 110 had removed his hand from the dataport. “I have found the problem,” he said as the glow faded from around him. “An invasive program has been introduced into Ganitriul’s system.”

  “Sabotage,” Corsi said.

  “Yes, Lieutenant Commander.”

  “I do not doubt your diagnosis, 110, but I do not understand how it came to be. I have no record of any invasive programs being inserted into my system.”

  “Once we have fixed the problem, I can show you how it was done, Ganitriul.”

  “Can the program be safely removed?” Sonya asked.

  “It is possible, yes. We will need—”

  Sonya did not learn what 110 would need, as he was interrupted by some kind of blaster fire, which struck Hawkins in the left shoulder.

  The security guard cried out in pain and fell to the cavern ground, grabbing his left shoulder with his right hand and dropping his phaser rifle.

  As Corsi raised her own rifle to return fire, Ganitriul said, “A security measure has activated. No energy weapons will fire within the confines of the installation.”

  Corsi pressed the firing button on her rifle anyhow, but nothing happened. “Dammit,” she muttered.

  It was then that the lights came back up.

  Sonya blinked the spots out of her eyes and found herself surrounded by twelve Eerlikka. Some of them were also blinking—with upper and lower eyelids—in response to the greater illumination. Some were holstering their blasters and unholstering large curved, bladed weapons.

  “Death to the aliens!” one of them cried.

  Several more repeated, “Death to the aliens!”

  Then they charged.

  CHAPTER

  5

  Ansed held her breath as the Senbolma left the atmosphere of Eerlik. So far , she thought, so good. The owner of the Senbolma was an old man named Emarur, who expressed a certain reluctance to test his ship in quite this manner. He had been hoping to remain in dock until the crisis passed. However, he could not turn down a specific request from the First Speaker and the last remaining priest, especially since they were willing to share the risk with him by taking the flight.

  Besides, the Senbolma going to the moon was likely the only way the crisis would pass.

  The ship’s pilot said, “We’ve cleared the stratosphere. Now entering orbit of Eerlik. We’ll have our window to the moon in fifteen minutes. All systems reading nominal.” He sounded almost surprised.

  “Good,” Emarur said from his seat to the pilot’s right. The flight deck of the Senbolma was small, with only two chairs at one large console. Ansed stood behind Emarur, looking at the amazing vista on the viewscreen in front of her. She had seen pictures of what Eerlik looked like from orbit, but nothing could have prepared her for the experience. No picture had adequately conveyed the deep burgundy of the oceans, the swirling, majestic patterns of the clouds, or the deep brown of the land masses. As they orbited, she saw the Lankap mountain range, just outside the capital city. After a minute, they flew over the teardrop-shaped form of Maryllo Island, where she had been born. Then came the ragged, beautiful Kyepas Coast, where she’d spent so many summers as a girl.

  It took her breath away. To see the landmarks of her life this way was staggering.

  Undlar was in the small cabin he and Ansed were sharing—space was at a premium on the Senbolma —meditating. Ansed was half
-tempted to run down, grab him, and force him to look at this view. She certainly was determined, now more than ever, to do whatever she could to save her world.

  Emarur turned around to look at Ansed. “Nice view, huh?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Never been up here before, have you, First Speaker?”

  “No, I haven’t.” She smiled. “It’s funny, I always used to dismiss people who took trips to the moon to tour Ganitriul as silly tourists. Now I’m sorry I never did take one of those trips. It would’ve been worth it just to see this. I had no idea the oceans were so burgundy. And the mountains . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  “I never get tired of it, either. Although, personally, I think the view is better back home,” Emarur said, referring to the Pevvni colony. He turned back to his console and entered some commands into it. “Compensate for that, will you?” he said to the pilot, then turned back to Ansed. “I have to say, it’s weird flying without a net like this. Still, it’s kind of thrilling, too.”

  “Thrilling?” Ansed asked, surprised.

  “Oh sure. Not knowing every possible variable, being surprised by a random meteor or another ship in the same orbit. That doesn’t happen with Ganitriul controlling everything. Never any worries about that. Makes you get lazy.”

  “What you call ‘lazy,’ sir, I call safe. I see no benefit in taking unnecessary risks.”

  With a wide, infectious grin, Emarur said, “Well, First Speaker, I guess that’s why I own a spaceship and you’re a politician.”

  Ansed couldn’t help but return the grin. Emarur was right, of course. His reaction made perfect sense for one in his position. Ansed herself had never understood the urge that drove the Pevvni to colonize in the first place, but that didn’t mean she would demean it. And it was perfectly possible to thrive without Ganitriul—all the major powers of the Alpha Quadrant did just fine without one central computer. Indeed, Ansed wondered if one computer could administer something as large as the Federation.

  Enough , she admonished herself. Let us first see if one computer will ever administer Eerlik again before we wax philosophical.

  “Approaching window now,” the pilot said. “This is interesting. I’m reading a ship in orbit around the moon. Too far away for a positive identification.”

  “Another ship?” Ansed asked. “That could be the answer. Whoever is on that ship could have sabotaged Ganitriul.”

  “That certainly would explain everything,” Emarur said. “Get ready to head for the moon,” he said to the pilot.

  Emarur initially kept the viewscreen on the view of Eerlik even as they headed toward the moon. The planet receded as they got farther away. Within a few minutes, however, he switched the view to that of the moon—and the ship in orbit around it.

  “That’s a Starfleet ship,” the pilot said. “Registry is NCC-81623, U.S.S. da Vinci , Saber -class.”

  “Which one is Saber -class?”

  The pilot shrugged. “Don’t know. We don’t have a database, remember? I just got this from the scan.”

  “It doesn’t make sense,” Ansed said. “Why would Starfleet sabotage Ganitriul?”

  “Well, we could ask them,” Emarur said. He touched a few buttons on his console, and a small whistling noise emitted from it. “This is the Senbolma , on behalf of the government of Eerlik, contacting the U.S.S. da Vinci . Please state your business.”

  After a moment, the face of an older human male appeared on the screen. Like most of his race, he had tufts of fuzz on top of his head, though this one’s was white and wispy.

  “This is Captain David Gold of the da Vinci . We’re here in response to a distress call from Ganitriul.”

  Ansed blinked. “From Ganitriul?” She cleared her throat. “Captain, I am First Speaker Ansed.”

  “A pleasure, First Speaker. If you don’t mind my asking, how did you get up here? I was led to believe that none of the Eerlikka ships worked.”

  “With all due respect, Captain, I would ask that you leave orbit. This is an Eerlik matter, not a Starfleet one.” Ansed did not want to give Gold any information. If they were responsible for the sabotage, telling them that this was the only working ship, and that they carried the last remaining priest, would be tantamount to suicide. She had no idea what kind of armament this ship carried, but the Federation was less than a year out of a nasty, prolonged war. While Eerlik had managed to avoid becoming embroiled in the Dominion War, they had heard quite a bit about it. Ansed doubted that any Starfleet ship was anything but fully armed.

  “I already have a team from the Starfleet Corps of Engineers in the caverns, working on the problem, First Speaker. If you want us to pull out, that’s fine, but my people are the best. Let them do their work.”

  Ansed was torn. Starfleet’s reputation was generally good, but with everything else that was happening, she didn’t know who to trust.

  Another voice sounded on the speakers, and it was one Ansed was grateful to hear. “First Speaker, this is Ganitriul. The da Vinci is here at my request. Their team has just transported down, and they will arrive at one of my primary terminals in two minutes. Please allow—”

  Then the signal cut off.

  Emarur made some adjustments to his console. “I can’t get the signal back—but it did seem to come from the moon.”

  Ansed let out a long breath. “My apologies, Captain. When we first saw your ship—”

  “Say no more, First Speaker,” Gold said, holding up a hand. “Can’t say as I blame you, really.”

  “I have one of the clergy on board. I believe that his help will be invaluable in aiding your team.”

  “Couldn’t hurt.”

  Ansed heard the door open behind her. She turned to see Undlar enter. “Here he is now,” she said to Gold. “Reger Undlar, this is Captain David Gold from Starfleet. It turns out Ganitriul asked the Federation for help.”

  “Yes, well, we were afraid of something like this. Now, Emarur,” Undlar said as he unsheathed a knife from under his robes and stabbed Ansed in the chest.

  As Ansed collapsed to the deck, blue blood spilling from her punctured heart, she cried out an anguished, “Why?”

  Undlar smiled a vicious smile. “You’ll never know.”

  Then her vision went black.

  CHAPTER

  6

  Domenica Corsi shot Drew a look. Drew nodded, closed his eyes, and covered Hawkins’ eyes as well. Grabbing the grenade from her belt, she thumbed it on, tossed it into the crowd of advancing Eerlikka, and closed her eyes. She could see the brightness of the photonic grenade even through her eyelids.

  As soon as the lights dimmed, she opened her eyes, and saw exactly what she’d hoped: a dozen Eerlikka blinking furiously, temporarily blinded.

  Of course, Gomez and 110 were similarly blinded, since Corsi couldn’t warn them about the grenade without warning their attackers, but that wasn’t an insurmountable problem. “C’mon!” she cried.

  Slinging her phaser rifle behind her shoulder, she grabbed Gomez and 110 by the arm and quickly led them out of the area. Drew led the wounded Hawkins—thankfully, Hawkins wasn’t hit in the leg.

  “I am all right,” 110 said as he gently shrugged out of Corsi’s grip and dashed ahead. Guess Bynars aren’t sensitive to bright light , she thought.

  “What happ—” Gomez started, but Corsi cut her off as she led the commander around a corner.

  “Photonic grenade. Keep moving, Commander.”

  Gomez nodded, blinking furiously as she picked up the pace, trusting Corsi not to let her walk into a wall.

  With the hand that wasn’t guiding Gomez, Corsi held her tricorder, currently showing her a map of the caverns. She led the way with Gomez, 110 right behind, and Drew leading Hawkins behind him. Corsi moved as fast as she could without losing the others. The display also showed that the twelve Eerlikka hadn’t moved from the terminal chamber.

  No, wait , she thought as the display changed, now they’re moving. And spreading out in what
looks like a search pattern, which means they have no clue which way we went. Good.

  She led the team around a few more corners, and then finally into a small cul-de-sac. Like the main terminal area, the walls here looked like big slabs of marble, but these were covered in dust. According to the records in the mission profile, there used to be a terminal here, but it had been consolidated into another unit.

  Although the lights had remained on in much of the complex, they’d apparently been removed from this area. The only illumination was provided by the wristlamps, and whatever light was coming in from the corridor.

  Switching hers off, Corsi said, “Everyone kill the wristlamps. I don’t think they have any scanning equipment, so they’ll be searching by sight.”

  110 walked up to Gomez. “Are you all right, Commander?”

  “Yeah, I’m okay,” Gomez said, blinking furiously. “This dim cavern is actually helping.” Letting out a breath, she said, “Let’s get the hell out of here.” She tapped her combadge. “Gomez to da Vinci . Five to beam up.”

  Silence answered.

  Oh, hell , Corsi thought. She tapped her own combadge. “Corsi to da Vinci .”

  Gomez immediately whipped out her tricorder. “The combadges are functioning normally. And there’s no security measure of Ganitriul’s interfering. Which means the da Vinci can’t answer.”

  Shaking her head, Corsi said, “That fits. We were ambushed—they probably were, too. If they’re not answering, they—”

  “We know what it means, Commander,” Gomez said quickly. “Right now, let’s focus on what we can do.”

  Corsi nodded. Gomez was right, actually. “Drew, stand guard.”

  Drew nodded, gave Hawkins a quick, encouraging look, then headed out to the mouth of the culdesac.

  Corsi knelt down to check on Hawkins. Conveniently, Hawkins himself had been carrying the mini-medikit. She opened it and treated his wound as best she could. It would do until they got back to the da Vinci .

  If they got back.

  “We need to figure out how to proceed with the mission,” Gomez said.