
STAR TREK
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
BY
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch Look for STAR TREK Fiction from
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star Trek
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
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THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
THE GAS GIANT THESAU, the ninth planet
out from the star Tautee, expanded, then
contracted, as if it were cookie dough in the hands
of a huge, unseen child.
Egg-shaped.
Then round.
Then oblong.
The large planet went through wild
contortions as it fought to somehow retain its shape.
And for a moment it seemed to have won the fight,
settling into the round, swirling clouded shape it had
had for millions of years.
Then the unseen child started pulling on it again and the
gas giant expanded at its poles, then flattened
almost as fast.
Every video screen throughout the entire
system 1
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
was focused on those images. Millions of
Tauteean people watched, awestruck at the incredible
forces at work.
Half a kilometer below the surface of the
second moon of the fifth planet, the entire staff
of the Kanst Energy Center[\*thorngg'thousands of
researchers and scientists[\*thorngg'watched their
screens in growing dismay. Some people turned away.
Others sat on regulation chairs, no longer able
to stand. The remaining few stared at the screens as if
the sight betrayed them.
In the center of the fifty-thousand-kilometer
building, Subcommander Prescott stood in the
middle of the war room, watching the screens. Her
assistant Folle stood beside her. The rest of the
room was empty. No one else cared to see
destruction in three dimensions.
The war room was a round amphitheater, and she
stood at the focal point, in the bottom, below all
the workbenches, the computers, and the seats. The circular
screens showed her the Tautee system as if she were
on a ship in space. The system surrounded her and
covered the ceiling above her. Only the shiny steel
floor, which reflected the images in a blurry,
colorful fashion, showed that she was in the middle of
her creation.
The Kanst Energy Experiment.
She had hoped to provide unlimited power for
all her people. The studies had taken most of her
life. The research built on research that built
on research, some of it generations old. She had
hired ten thousand of the best minds in the system to 2
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
work on the project. Their analysis, the
computer charts, and the projections all showed
success.
How could it have gone this wrong?
"It's going to break up," Folle said. "Just like
Hancee did."
Hancee, the moon where the energy
experiment had taken place. Where she had lost
three hundred of the best minds in the system.
Prescott shook her head, the movement
making her head ache. Pain shot through her jaw.
She was grinding her teeth again. She had shattered a
tooth when Hancee broke up, but her pain had
seemed minor then compared with the loss of a moon and her
people. Her friends.
Her pain felt even more minor now.
The amphitheater was strangely silent. She
couldn't even hear the hum of the computers. The air was
cold[\*thorngg'the center fought a constant battle
to keep the temperature steady within such a large
space[\*thorngg'and she wore only her thin lab
uniform. Somewhere she had lost the extra sweater she
kept for the cold days, the days when the cold ate through
her thin skin, all the way to her bones.
That didn't matter either. She had a feeling she
would lose more than a sweater before the week was out.
The gas giant's shape changes took place
in that silence. She almost expected to hear
rips and tears as the planet changed shape. The
sounds of an earthquake, maybe, the grinding of
shifting rock under the unseen forces.
The silence was eerie.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
But the silence was better than the cries of dismay
she had heard two days ago, when this room had been
full of her staff, when all the scientists had
gathered to watch their success on Hancee.
A success that had quickly turned into a disaster of
untold proportions.
Hancee had been the largest moon orbiting the gas
giant. Two days after they started the experiment
inside Hancee, something had gone wrong. Nobody
knew exactly what had
happened. The project was generating the
expected power, and the transmission beam was being
put on line to bring the power into the population.
Suddenly the three hundred men and women on
Hancee no longer communicated with the Kanst
Cente r[\*thorngg'or with anywhere else in the
Tautee system. They were just gone, along with the power
beam and the laboratories there.
Orbital photos showed nothing. The
base was obscured by clouds of debris or gas.
At least, her scientists thought it was debris or
gas. It could have been anything, or something new
created by the experiment. She had no way of knowing for
sure.
She still didn't.
Two frantic days later, the rescue mission
based out of the seventh planet finally received clearance
to head for Hancee. It would have taken almost a week
to get there, but the ships were still on the launchpad when the
entire moon broke apart, scattering itself in small
pieces in an expanding ring around the gas giant.
Now, less than a week later, the gas giant
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
shattering, torn apart by forces she couldn't even
imagine.
Prescott glanced over at Folle's strained
and tired face. Somewhere in the last two days, he
had stopped touching her, even casually, a squeeze
of the shoulder, a brush on the wrist, all those soft
unconscious signs of support. The others
refused to meet her eyes, but the loss of
Folle's trust hurt even more. He was her right
hand, her best friend, her second-in-command,
and her sometime lover.
And he blamed her for all of this.
Underneath it all, so did she.
Not only was she legally
responsible[\*thorngg'she set up the center, the
team, and the research, and convinced the government the
project would work[\*thorn] but she was morally
responsible. She had believed in the project with
all her might.
But no one could blame her for silencing the
doomsayers. There had been none. Everyone thought the
project would work.
Even Folle.
Prescott, her thin, tiny frame showing the wear
of the last week, sank down into a chair and closed
her eyes.
She had to think.
She so much wanted to believe that something else besides
the project had caused this
destruction, that some cosmic coincidence had led
to this.
She might be able to make herself believe that the
small forces they had been working with could destroy a
moon. That remote
possibility was the very reason the experiment
had been placed so far out, away from the populated
center of the system. 5
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
But the energy project couldn't have come close
to generating even one-millionth of the force needed to tear
apart a gas giant almost as big as their sun.
She hadn't caused this. She repeated the sentence over and over again. She hadn't caused this.
She hadn't caused this. It just wasn't possible.
But something was tearing apart the biggest planet in their
solar system. And the destruction of the moon was damning
evidence that her project had triggered something.
What, she had no idea.
"You'd better watch this," Folle said.
She opened her eyes.
Folle was looking forward, at Thesau. The
orange-and-yellow clouded planet filled the
front screen. It seemed to have a large bubble forming
on one side. As she watched, the
bubble moved away from the center of the
planet, pulling more and more of Thesau with it.
She stood. "This just can't be happening," she said
to herself.
Folle placed his hand over hers.
She glanced at him in surprise. His anger
seemed to be gone, replaced by resignation. He
knew, as well as she did, what the bubble meant.
Strangely, it was his touch, his acceptance of the
crisis, that nearly cracked her resolve. It was
easier for her to watch when he blamed her. She could
close it off, observe as a scientist instead of as
a person.
Then he slipped his arm around her,
strengthening her. She put her arm around him, hoping
to give him strength in return. They would need it.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Because this was just the beginning. She knew that now. For the
next hour they watched as the largest planet in their
solar system spread out like jam on bread, forming the
beginning of a huge ring that would someday, years and years
in the future, fill the entire orbit around the
sun. The birth of the first Ring of Tautee. There were
fourteen more planets. There
would be fourteen more rings.
Captain's log, Stardate 3871.6
The Enterprise has been ordered to the
Tautee system to investigate waves of
subspace interference coming from the
area. Long-range scans have shown that
some, if not all, of the planets of the
Tautee system have broken apart. Admiral
Hoffman believes that the Klingons might
be involved in the system's destruction,
although she doesn't rule out other
causes. The Tautee system fails under the
area covered by the Organian Peace
Treaty, and the Klingons are looking for
almost any reason to move into the
disputed area. We have also heard
rumors of the Klingons developing a new
superweapon. My personal hope is that
these rumors are false.
We have one other concern. A team
surveyed the 8
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Tautee system ten years ago, and found a
spacetraveling pre-warp culture
insufficiently developed to have contact with the
Federation. We are to arrive as quickly as we can, not
just to stop any problems with the Klingons but also to see
if the Tautee peoples were able to save themselves.
Admiral
Hoffman reminded me that the Prime
Directive is in effect in all matters
regarding the Tauteean people.
The U.s.s. Farragut, captained by Kelly
Bogle, has been ordered to the Tautee system
to give us backup if needed. Since I served with
Kelly Bogle on the Farragut, this should prove
to be an interesting reunion.
Captain Kirk tapped his captain's log off
and surveyed the bridge. Sometimes, in the middle of
long deep-space missions, the bridge seemed
small and crowded. The padding in his captain's
chair, usually comfortable, had grown thin. At
Starbase 11, they would have fixed that, as well as
done minor[\*thorngg'albeit
unnec[\*thorngg'tune-ups to justify the
Enterprise's stay.
But Admiral Hoffman had canceled their
routine maintenance. She knew that Scotty kept
the ship in tip-top condition, and she also knew that the
Enterprise hadn't been out as long as usual.
Only the last mission had been hard, on Kirk as
well as the crew, but had left the ship in good
physical condition. He had looked forward to a stay
on a starbase where he could eat food from
someone else's kitchen, and have the days to read the
antique real-paper copy of One Hundred
Years of 9
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
Solitude that he had been saving for a special
occasion.
Now it was beginning to look like he wouldn't even get
one day of solitude. He had a hunch this mission
would take as long as the last. Maybe even longer.
His mood seemed to be catching. The rest of the
crew appeared to be just as disgruntled. Uhura
leaned against the orange console, one booted leg
extended, her elbow resting near the controls. Her
long slender hand held her
earpiece in place as she monitored the
subspace communications, just as Kirk had
requested.
Ensign Chekov looked as if he hadn't
slept at all in the last week. His hair was
tousled, and deep shadows had formed under his dark
eyes. His fingers, tapping on the edge of the helm
controls, provided the only real noise in the
room.
Sulu was monitoring the navigation
controls with a bit more interest than was necessary. Just before the
orders came in for this mission, he had asked for time
off to practice his swordplay. He had been
planning to participate in a
tournament scheduled on Starbase ll during their
stay. He hadn't shown obvious
disappointment about the change in plans, but he did
ask that his time off be canceled.
Only Spock seemed unaffected. He sat
at his post in front of the science console, the blue
light of the computer screen making his
greenish-tinted skin an odd sort of gray.
Kirk couldn't stand the silence. He stood and
walked to the science console, placing a hand on 10
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
the back of Spock's chair. "Do we have any more
information?"
"Very little, Captain," Spock said. He pushed
a button and then swiveled his chair so that he faced
Kirk. "Our long-range scans show that every
planet in the system has been destroyed."
"Every planet?" Kirk asked. He couldn't
make himself believe that much destruction had oc-curred in one system without the sun going nova.
"Fifteen major planets," Spock
said, folding his hands together. "We will not know how many
minor ones were destroyed until we are closer."
"How? How could fifteen planets disappear so
quickly?" Kirk asked.
"They did not "disappear,"" Spock said.
"Sensors show large debris fields in the areas
of each planet, slowly expanding to form rings.
Intense waves of subspace interference are surging
out of the system. The closer we get, the more intense the
disturbance."
"Could this interference destroy planets, Mister
Spock?"
"I do not know if the interference is the result of the
destruction or the cause," Spock said. "tilde
When we arrive at the system I may be able to get
more accurate readings."
"Spock?" he said softly, not really sure he
wanted to know the answer to this question. "How many
humanoids inhabited this system?"
"From the last survey results," Spock said,
"I would estimate there to have been two billion,
six hundred million spread out over the four
inhabitable planets of the system."
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine
Kathryn
Rusch
"Two billion?" Probably all dead.
Kirk
couldn't let himself think about all those lives. He
couldn't.
He moved over beside his command chair
and stood facing the front screen, which showed the stars
streaking past. Two hours until the Enterprise
arrived. Two hours of waiting and wondering what had
become of the billions of humanoids who lived in
the Tautee system.
If all fifteen planets were destroyed, he
knew what had happened to those people.
He dropped into the captain's chair and winced at
the thinness of the padding against his back.
This would be a long two hours.
Dr. Leonard McCoy strode down the
corridor toward cargo bay five. He was hardly
ever on this deck, and the on-duty personnel were
watching him as if they had never seen a
medical officer before. They skittered out of his
way, avoiding eye contact, and hurried to their
posts. Ensigns, most of them, newly assigned,
probably, with drudge duty that he
didn't even want to think about doing.
They probably had been looking forward to the
maintenance stop as much as he had.
No stopover on Starbase 11. He hated the
thought of that. He had some experiments
growing in his lab that needed the considered opinion of
Dr. Beth Jones, one of the most brilliant
scientific minds he had ever come across. Dr.
Jones was on Starbase 1 1.
And McCoy wasn't.
Nor was he likely to be for some time. Even when
this new mission, whatever the hell it was, 12
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
was over, the ship would probably dry-dock at
some other starbase.
Dr. Jones had expressed interest in his
research, and she had also mentioned an
interesting test that could be done with a medical
tricorder. A modified medical tricorder. But
McCoy was a doctor, not an engineer, and he
didn't even know how to take the damn
things apart, let alone how to operate on them
to change their function and readings.
So he contacted a real engineer, only to discover
from the computer that Chief Engineer
Montgomery Scott was in a cargo
bay[\*thorngg'and had been in the cargo bay since
some time that night. He had left orders that he was not
to be interrupted unless there was an emergency.
McCoy hesitated only a second before
entering the cargo bay. Scotty obviously
wasn't working on anything ship-related. If he
had been, the order not to interrupt would have come from the
captain. Which made, in
McCoy's mind, the emergency qualification
invalid. Especially to him.
The cargo-bay door slid open with a
pneumatic hiss.
"I said I didna want to be disturbed."
Scotty's voice sounded oddly dampened, as if it
should echo but didn't.
For a moment, McCoy was too stunned to
reply. In front of him were two of the biggest,
ugliest machines he had ever seen. And
between them was a large monitor, on which blue sky
stretched for what seemed like miles over carefully
trimmed green grass.
"What in Hanna's world . . . ?" McCoy
said, 13
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine
Kathryn
Rusch
stopping just inside the door as it hissed closed.
The two machines seemed to take up a large
percentage of the cargo bay. Mister Scott was on
his hands and knees, his head halfway inside one of the
machines, making some sort of
adjustments. McCoy could hear him talking to the
machine.
After a moment the chief engineer pulled his head out,
put his hands on his hips, and glared at McCoy.
"Well, Doctor, now that you've seen it, do you like
it?"
McCoy didn't really know what to make of it.
He had no idea what it was. Or what it was for.
"I take that as a yes," Scotty said.
All McCoy could do was nod and stare into the big
screen at the blue sky and green grass. He
really needed a vacation. He knew that now. And from the
looks of it, so did Scotty.
Scotty stood and brushed off his pants, then
moved over beside McCoy. He stopped, hands on
hips, smiling at the scene on the monitor as if
it was a newborn babe.
"What is it?" McCoy finally managed
to say.
"Why, it's a golf course," Scott said. His
voice sounded almost sad that McCoy hadn't
recognized what he was working on. "What else
would it be?"
"A golf course?" McCoy asked. "What's
the point?"
"Escape, lad," Scotty said. "Here, try
this on."
He handed McCoy the large helmet with the wires
hooked to the large machines.
"I don't think[\*thorn]"
"Do it," Scotty said. "It won't hurt you."
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Doubting his own sanity, McCoy stared at the
rubber padded helmet for a moment, then
slipped it over his head. The glasses came
down over his face and suddenly, instead of staring at the
green grass and blue sky through a monitor, he
almost felt as if he were there. And for a moment he thought
he could hear the wind
blowing over the open fields.
Almost reluctantly, he pulled off the helmet
and handed it to Scotty. "What is it?"
"Holographic projectors working in tandem,"
Scotty said, beaming, and pointing at the two
machines. "I think I have them finally tuned. Now,
if they'd just stay that way."
McCoy snorted in disgust. "Holograms. The
future, they call it."
"That they are, lad. Maybe someday you won't
need the helmet."
"Humph," McCoy said in response. "They
keep saying holograms will be doing everything we
do. As if they could replace me with one."
Scotty laughed and patted the doctor on the
shoulder. "Doctor, no one could replace the
likes of you."
The illusion of grass on the large monitor
started to shimmer slightly and Scotty quickly ducked
to the machine on the right, muttering to himself as he went.
After a moment, the picture stopped
shimmering. Scotty slid out of the machine,
grinning, a long dark streak running from his right eye
to his chin. "Now, what's so important it couldn't
wait until I finished the eighteenth green?"
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
"Eighteen? You did eighteen scenes like that?"
McCoy pointed at the monitor.
"Aye," Scotty said. "Including the
fairways and teeing areas. A golf course needs
eighteen holes, ya know."
McCoy shook his head, then glanced down at the
tricorder in his hand. Suddenly his lack of engineering
skills seemed painfully obvious. Scotty could
create something out of nothing. McCoy needed help
modifying his tricorder.
"Mister Scott, since we're not going to Star
Base Eleven, I[\*thorn]"
He didn't get the rest of his sentence out of his
mouth. Suddenly the light in the room dimmed and then
came back up. The grass and blue sky both
suddenly looked as if they were a lake surface being
blown by a stiff wind; then the picture went out.
McCoy could smell the distinct odor of overheating
equipment.
Scotty dove for the machine on the right but was too
late. Something exploded and sparks flew everywhere.
"Mister Scott," the captain's voice came
over the intercom. "We have a power drain."
"Aye," The word held a mixture of sadness,
regret, and loss. Scott took a step
back from the smoking machines. He shook his head.
"Mister Scott?" The captain's voice did
not sound happy and McCoy smiled.
"Give me five minutes," Scott said, "and
I'll fix your power drain."
"Then I'd like a report," the captain said.
"Kirk out."
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
The smoke was thick and smelled of electrical
cables. McCoy suppressed both a cough and his
smile. He held out the tricorder.
"Is it broken?" Scott asked.
McCoy shook his head. "I need some
modifications."
"Ach, so do these poor beasties. I'll clean
up this mess and then come to sickbay."
McCoy slung the tricorder over his shoulder.
"Thanks." He opened the bay door, thankful for the
fresh air of the corridor. He coughed once, then
stopped outside the door. "One more
thing, Mister Scott."
"Aye, sir?"
"Why are you building a golf course?"
Scatty rose to his full height, as
he often did when his pride was assaulted. "I am
a Scotsman, lad. We invented the game."
McCoy nodded.
And then waited until he was in the turbolift
before he started laughing.
PRESCOTT SAT in her chair in the dimly
lit amphitheater. The screens had been dead for
hours now. The environmental controls were running on
emergency power, and the gravity had gone from normal
to low.
The chair was bolted into the floor for just this sort of
emergency, and she wore the
restraining bands on her ankles and thighs, roping
her in place. The idea had been to bolt everything
down in case the gravity controls failed. That way
the researchers could continue their work even under the
lowgrav conditions of the moon. She doubted that the
designers ever thought the bands would come in handy in the
almost zero gravity of the remaining hunk of the moon.
The center's planners had thought that the gravi18
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
ty controls would break down monthly. Instead, this
was the first time anyone had had to use the
system. Yet another miscalculation in a whole,
disastrous series of them.
The room shook slightly, stirring the dust. Every
few minutes the base rattled. It was already
unstable. With each shake, she assumed the containment
would break, and the cold darkness of space would rush in
and take them all to a very quick but very painful death.
She licked her lips. They were dry and caked with
grit. Dust, dirt, and debris floated around
her, unhampered by bolts.
A computer had broken through one of the screens and was
at the moment floating near the ceiling, sent there by that
last moonquake. In a few minutes it would
settle slowly back to the floor somewhere.
She had thought she was going to die in this room, but so
far it hadn't worked out that way. Somehow, by some
miracle, the base had held together when the moon
broke apart.
All the ripping and tearing and screaming and shaking she
had expected to hear, but couldn't, as she watched the
fifteen planets in the Tautee system silently
blow apart had happened when the moon shattered. But,
apparently, a large chunk of the moon had held
together.
Within that large chunk resided the center.
Lucky her. Lucky all of them. They had a
few extra days to think about dying.
Folle was pleased; he somehow thought they 19
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
might survive. He was scavenging, seeing how
bad the damage was in the rest of the center.
And who else was alive.
She estimated that a few hundred had lived. The
computer terminal in front of her had shown her a
schematic of the center just before a power surge shut the
machine down. Several sections appeared to have
collapsed. But several had survived.
A few hundred tired, injured, homeless
Tauteeans to carry on until their air ran out,
or their containment cracked and let in the cold of
deep space.
For days after her home planet broke apart,
killing over a billion, she didn't much care if
she lived or died. All she kept seeing was the
blue-green meadow surrounding her parents" home,
the stream with the silver fish, and her old pet
Sandpine. They were now all gone, destroyed by something
she had headed.
Destroyed by her "project."
""I don't know that for sure," she said aloud.
Folle had said that to her fifty times as he tried
to help her regain some strength. We don't know for
sure, he had said. We can't know.
He had meant that they couldn't know
because the equipment couldn't tell them. But she knew
the real truth behind Folle's
statement.
They couldn't know because not knowing kept them sane.
If she knew for certain that the Kanst Energy
Experiment was responsible for the breakup of the
Tautee system, she'd never be able to take another
breath. She and her fellow workers would be the 20
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
greatest mass murderers of all time. She would have
killed all her people.
Her mind couldn't embrace that idea.
Refused it outright.
Even though she knew that everyone was
dead, she could still see her parents" faces when
she closed her eyes. It seemed no different from
living the rest of her days in this destroyed facility,
far from home.
Except that her heart ached. Literally ached, as
if someone had stabbed her there.
She took a deep breath and glanced around at the
empty room and the debris just now settling back
toward the floor in the weak gravity.
Folle had been gone a long time. He had
tried to take her out of this room, this place where she
watched her entire race die, but she had refused
to leave. For the past two days, he had brought her
food and news of the two
hundred people in the nearby command center.
He had told her of the blocked corridors and
twisting steel beams. He had said that the others had
hope of survival. And he had asked why she
hadn't.
He knew the answer. He was as good a
scientist as she was. The bit of moon that held
them together wouldn't remain in one piece forever. If it
didn't shake itself apart, it would hit other space
debris and shatter.
There were a thousand other possibilities. Every
scenario she ran ended with their deaths.
The main door clanged. She took a deep
breath 21
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
of the dusty air, trying to brace herself for
Folle's energy. He was trying to keep her
alive. He was trying to keep all of them alive,
for what she didn't know.
They had no right to live.
Even if they hadn't caused the destruction.
Everyone else was dead. They had no right
to survive.
She turned to watch him. He was still a beautiful
man, thinner than he had ever been, but beautiful.
He jumped offthe top step, and half-floated
toward her.
He grabbed her shoulder to stop his
momentum, then held the chair as he braced himself
against the desk beside her.
"I have a crew patching leaks in the A
Section," he said.
She shrugged. "Busy work. We both know it
won't last long."
"Long enough to be rescued," he said.
He had never said that word before. She bit back a
sarcastic comment[\*thorngg'How could anyone save
you? We killed everyone in the
universe[\*thorngg'and instead asked, as
reasonably as she could, "Do you really believe that
some of the big ships from Tautee orbital
labs survived?"
He nodded, glancing around at the empty, blank
screens and the destroyed control panels. "We just
need to let them know we're still down here."
Maybe if she talked to him, she could get him
to abandon this new delusion. She stared at the hole in
the screen before her, the one made by the floating
computer. But what was the point of 22
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
destroying his illusions now? So that he could die as
miserably as she would?
"Prescott?" he asked softly.
She turned her gaze to him, smiled at him, and
ran her knuckles along the soft skin of his face.
One of them deserved to hope. If he kept busy,
then maybe he wouldn't be frightened when the end came.
"Are any of the shafts to the surface still open?"
she asked.
"No," he said, as if it didn't bother him.
"They're all blocked. But we might be able
to clear one. Twenty-zee-one seems to be blocked
in only four places."
She shook her head sadly and turned to the blank
screens. The moon base had never been designed
to withstand the moon breaking up. Who could have
foreseen such an event? It was a marvel that they were
even still alive.
She punched a few dead buttons that before would have
let her see the incoming ships. Sometimes it
frustrated her more that
everything was broken, that nothing worked. It seemed like
such a metaphor for the
experiment itself.
"You know, Folle," she said, "I just wish I
could get one more glimpse of the stars."
"You want me to send a crew here to try to get a
camera up and running?"
She shook her head. It would just be more busy work.
She knew that seeing the surface wasn't going to be
possible. The moon's
breakup must have destroyed all the cameras on the
surface. And severed the connections
between here and there. 23
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
No, the only chance she had of getting out of this
grave was to put on a surface suit and somehow
dig her way through a kilometer of collapsed
tunnels to what remained of the surface. And at the
moment she just didn't have that much energy.
"You don't think we'll be able to repair that
tunnel, do you?" he asked.
"I think this section of moon is staying together with
spit, string, and a massive amount of luck," she
said. "And I'm afraid that if we mess with it,
we'll make matters worse."
He frowned, caught a chunk of floating steel,
and shoved it in his pocket. His pockets were bulging.
He must have been doing that
everywhere he went. She wondered what he did with the
steel when his pockets were full.
"Can we at least try rigging up an emergency
signal?" he asked.
She swung her chair around and looked him in the
eye, being careful in the light gravity not to move
too fast. He needed her permission. He was acting
as if they still had a mission, as if she were still in charge
of something
important.
She signed. "Go ahead if it'll make you
happy. Gather up a crew and I'll come to the
communications room to check on the
progress."
Folle grinned, the dirt on his face showing
lines she had never seen before. "Thanks.
Give us an hour," he said. He turned and
jumped carefully toward the entrance.
"Take your time," she said.
She turned back to face the blank screens.
Sending an emergency signal was as useful as
pressing 24
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
the buttons on the control panel before her. She
let her fingers dance over the dead
buttons. Try as she might, she couldn't make
the surface cameras work.
And no matter how strong the signal, Folle
would be shouting into emptiness. Except for a few
hundred people trapped in the remains of a moon, the
universe was dead.
No one would rescue them, because no one was out there.
AS PER SPOCK S RECOMMENDATION,
the Enterprise came out of warp farther away from the
Tautee system than normal. Spock's point,
which was extremely valid, was that if all fifteen
planets had been destroyed, then there might be a
great deal of debris, and the
Enterprise didn't want to come out of
warp in the center of it.
They had missed the main debris fields, but not
by very much.
Kirk leaned forward in his chair, one booted
foot pressed against the chair itself, the other braced
beneath him. He had seen schematics of the Tautee
system. It had looked like a
thousand other systems[\*thorngg'a yellow sun and
fifteen major planets, three of which were gas
giants.
The only remarkable thing was that four of the
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
inner planets were in the band of life and had
atmospheres capable of sustaining life. Two of the
planets were class-M planets, very similar
to Earth. Usually a solar system had one or two
such planets at the most, but this system was blessed with
four.
The last report from ten years ago was that the
Tautee system supported a humanoid
population that had started on the fifth planet and
spread through the system. The report stated that they were
at least fifty to one hundred years from discovering
warp drive and leaving their system.
In other words, there had been nothing
remarkable about the Tauteeans. They were evolving just
as hundreds of other young
cultures were doing throughout the sector, slowly
making their way up and out into the stars.
Until now.
"All stop," he said
Slowly he pushed himself out of his chair, his gaze
never leaving the screen. This wasn't possible.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sulu and
Chekov staring as he did, mouths open.
He had only seen something like this once be-fore.
When the Planet Killer had swept through the
galaxy, chomping planets. And even then, it
hadn't left this kind of debris.
All fifteen major planets orbiting the
Tautee sun had broken apart, leaving nothing more
than chunks of floating rock and debris in ever-expanding rings. The screen couldn't begin to encompass
al l the damage.
The outer rings from the destruction of the larger, gas
giants were already awe-inspiring, and 27
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
horribly, horribly beautiful. If
he had come upon this without knowing about the way the system
had been, he would have stopped the ship and studied
everything, just because the sight was so incredible.
But he did know what had been here before. An
entire civilisation had been here, spread across four
of those planets. Billions of lives that were now
vapor in the growing rings.
What had happened here?
What had gone wrong?
"Mister Spock," he said, his voice not at
all steady. He turned toward his science officer,
hoping that Spock's inscrutable Vulcan features
showed a hint of what he was thinking. "Are there any
survivors?"
But Spock had his head down, eyes pressed
against the scanning device. Kirk understood. It was
Spock's way of covering his own shock at the
devastation.
"Mister Spock?"
"I am sorry, sir. I was double-checking my
readings." Spock swiveled his chair and faced the
captain. Although somber, Spock's
expression was no different than it had been before
they left warp. Maybe he wasn't covering
anything at all.
"It would seem unlikely that there would be any
survivors," Spock said. "Although the society
had space travel, it was pre-warp. Ships that
primitive could not survive this type of
devastation."
"Billions of people, Spock. Could anyone have
survived?"
Spock shook his head. "If they did not know this
was coming, they would not have survived. The 28
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Tauteeans lived mainly on the two
class-M planets. When the planets broke
apart, their atmospheres were scattered into space. People
on the surface would no longer have air to breathe or
sufficient gravity to hold them against that surface."
Kirk's fists clenched. Billions of lives
lost.
Billions.
He had seen destruction before and knew that the
numbers didn't tell half the story. Each of
those lives had had loves and hates, goals and
dreams, successes and failures. All rendered
meaningless in the space of a few days.
What awful days they must have been.
There was a loud groaning sound, as if a
billion ghosts had moaned at the same moment; then
suddenly the Enterprise was rocked as if something
huge had collided with it.
Kirk went sprawling to the right. He quickly
tucked his shoulder and rolled with the fall.
Ensign York rolled past him and slammed into the
wall.
Kirk rolled once more and then caught
himself quickly. He came up on one knee,
holding on to the engineering console. "What's
happening?"
"I am uncertain, Captain," Spock shouted
over the rumbling and moaning as he held on to his
science console with one hand while punching in commands with the
other.
Sulu had been knocked from his chair, but had
quickly regained it. His fingers were flying over the board
in front of him, trying to stabilise the ship.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
Chekov had managed to stay in place and was
studying his instruments while holding on.
The shaking and all the noise subsided and Kirk
stood slowly, straightening his shirt and
brushing off the dust on his arm. Ensign York
shook himself and stood carefully. Uhura
picked up her chair, tugged on her skirt, and
sat down, replacing the receiver in her ear as she bent
over her console.
"It seems," Mr. Spock said slowly, "that the
Enterprise was hit by an intense subspace disturbance."
"The same kind as the ones we picked up before?" Kirk kept a hand on his chair as he made
his way to the science console. Two-dimensional
oscillations showed up on the science computer screen.
They obviously meant something to Spock, but Kirk
had not seen them before.
"The very same, sir," Spock said, "Only this
is a thousand times more intense.
"Where's it coming from?" Kirk understood the
oscillations on the screen now. They were a
representation of the disturbance, moving like ocean waves
in space in ever-expanding rings from the Tautee
system.
Spock never took his eyes off the instruments in
front of him. "I have yet to discover the origin of the
disturbance." His voice had a troubled sound to it.
"Well, find it," Kirk said. He
stepped back toward his chair, and tapped the comm
button for engineering. "Mister Scott. Any
damage?"
"Nothing to speak of, sir." Scotty's voice
came back strong.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"Keep me posted. Kirk out." He looked up
at the screen, at the damage floating in
ever-widening rings where planets used to be.
Whatever happened here was still happening. There was no
doubt at all about that.
"Sir, I am picking up a very faint radio
distress signal," Uhura said.
Radio? Ancient technology. "Pinpoint it,
Lieutenant," Kirk said. He leaned against the
arm of his chair. A distress signal. To what
point? The survey team had said this was a pre-warp
culture. Who was the distress signal meant for?
"Mister Spock, I thought you said there was no chance
of survivors."
"On the contrary, Captain," Spock said, "I
believe I said that it was unlikely there would be
many survivors."
"Do you care to explain the distinction?"
"The term "unlikely" means that there is a
chance someone did survive. However, an entire
series of circumstances would have had to occur. The
chances of those circumstances happening at this
opportune time would be[\*thorn]"
"Unlikely, yes, I know, Mister Spock."
Kirk shook his head and turned back to Uhura.
"Can you pinpoint the signal?"
"The distress signal is coming from a large
asteroid in the debris of the fifth planet,"
Uhura said.
"Mister Spock, are you finding any signs of
survivors in that area?"
"I find it impossible to determine at this distance, Captain. But the asteroid is large enough to
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
sustain a significant number of people. I am quite
certain we have survivors there."
"Quite certain, Mister Spock?" Kirk didn't
want to hope without any reason. "And what is this
certainty based on?"
"The fact that the distress signal just started."
Spock quirked an eyebrow at him.
Kirk got the uncanny feeling that Spock was
making An of him.
Kirk rounded his chair and was about to order Sulu
to take the Enterprise to that asteroid when Spock
added, "However, I do not believe we should approach
the asteroid. The subspace disturbances that appear
to have broken these planets apart may possibly be more
intense in that region. With that much planetary
debris, the ship would not survive."
Kirk glanced at Spock, who was again
monitoring the oscillations on his screen. "What
do you suggest, Mister Spock?"
"Holding on," Spock said. "We are about to be
hit by another subspace wave."
Almost before Kirk could grab his captain's chair,
the ship rocked and shuddered. As the lights Dickered,
he glanced around. This time, with Spock's warning, the
bridge crew were staying at their stations.
As the wave passed and the lights came back up,
McCoy's voice came over the intercom. "You
want to tell me what in blazes is going on? I
have patients bouncing all over down here."
Kirk punched the comm button. "We'll tell
you just as soon as we know. For now, just hang on.
Kirk out."
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Mr. Chekov turned around. "Captain, we
have company."
"On screen, Mister."
Kirk let go of the command chair and turned to face
the main screen as the view of the destroyed planets
disappeared and was replaced by four Klingon cruisers.
They floated there as if they owned the space.
"Red alert," he ordered.
As if they didn't have enough problems already.
CAPTAIN KELLY BOGLE stood in front
of
the main viewscreen on the U.s.s.
Farragut. He had come out of warp at the edge of the
Tautee system to find himself with two separate
problems. The strange destruction of fifteen
planets, and his sister ship, the U.s.s.
Enterprise, surrounded by four Klingon
cruisers.
Bogle knew that Kirk could handle the four
Klingon ships[\*thorngg'he'd seen Kirk handle
bigger problems[\*thorngg'b Bogle
didn't like the
implications. Four ships to one Federation
vessel, a destroyed star system all around them.
That special Klingon weapon he'd heard
about must have been a doozy.
He turned. His bridge crew was at their
profes34
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
signal best, which meant they had been startled by the
sudden turn of events just as he was.
His helmsman, Diego Rodriguez, watched
their course as if they were flying through an asteroid
belt.
The communications officer, Julie Gustavus,
kept one hand to her ear as she monitored the intership
communications.
Several ensigns read nearby computer screens with
great focus, as if their entire careers depended on
it.
While Kelly Bogle could match Jim Kirk
drink for drink in any officer's lounge in the
galaxy, while he could play poker with equal
skill, and while he could tell tall tales as
well as any officer in the fleet, he did one thing
differently he dominated his ship. Bogle
didn't believe in the camaraderie that Kirk used
to bind his people. Bogle did it with sheer
determination, a quest for perfection, and rigid
discipline.
And it had worked for years.
He would need all of that discipline right now.
Bogle sat back and studied the situation for a
moment. His main focus had to be the
Enterprise. The systemwide disaster had
developed over the course of days and possibly
weeks. The Enterprise had only been in the
sector a few minutes before the Farragut.
That meant that the Klingons had been there first. They
would have to deal with the Klingons first in return.
"Any sign of hostilities?" Bogle asked.
Dean Wesley Smith and K ristine Kathryn
Rusch
Commander Richard Lee glanced up from his science
console. A shock of red hair fell over his
forehead. Lee's haircut was always too long, and his
uniform always needed just a little extra attention, all
items he'd been cited for many times before. But
Bogle didn't dare discipline him too hard.
Lee was the best science officer that Bogle
had ever worked with. The last thing he wanted to do was
chase him away.
"No hostilities yet, sir,", Lee said.
"However, the Enterprise is at full alert."
Lee glanced back down at his scope, then continued
without looking back up. "So are the Klingons.
I'd say something is going to happen any minute
now."
Bogle nodded and turned to Rodriguez.
"Move us into position right behind the
Enterprise. Let's let the Klingons know
we're here."
"Aye, sir," he said.
The rest of the crew continued their monitoring.
Bogle sat in the captain's chair, extending his
long legs outward. Within a few moments, the
Enterprise filled the screen with the four Klingon
vessels beyond and above it.
"Nice work, Ensign," Bogle said.
"We're being hailed by the Enterprise, was
Gustavus said.
"On screen," Bogle said, leaning back.
Captain Kirk's face filled the screen.
He looked pale, and his hair was ruffled, as if
he'd been running his hands through it. Not at
all the smiling, relaxed Jim Kirk that Bogle
was used to.
Was it the Klingons?
Or the system destruction itself? Bogle really
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
hadn't had time to absorb the system's
destruction or its meaning yet. He suspected
he would have to do that in private.
Then Kirk grinned, and Bogle saw the friend he
had spent many a satisfying shore leave with.
'Kelly, nice to have you with us."
"Good to be here, Jim," Bogle said. He'd
worked with Jim Kirk a number of times in the past and
it had always been successful despite their different
command methods. Kirk seemed to have an ability to come
out on top. As far as Bogle was concerned, that was a
great trait for a teammate to have.
Someone spoke behind Kirk and his grin
faded. "Tell your crew to hang on to
something." His voice was serious and very cold.
"Now."
Bogle didn't hesitate or even ask why.
He grabbed the arms of his own captain's chair, and
then punched his intercom. "This is the
captain. Find yourself something solid and hang on
to it. We[\*thorn]"
The ship moaned and then jolted backward.
Bogle's finger flew off the button,
effectively ending the communications.
The ship rattled and moaned like a sick teenager,
first to one side and then the other. His officers twisted
and leaned, but didn't lose their places.
He had only felt something like this once
bef[\*thorngg'in a battle with the Bnez when he was
an ensign. The Bnez had rammed his ship.
Sparks flew from Commander Lee's panel, but he
just fanned the smoke away and
continued working.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
Another hard jolt sent an ensign sprawling.
"Intense subspacewave, sir," Lee shouted
over the rumbling and moaning. "It should be passing right
about . . . now."
As Lee spoke, the shaking diminished and stopped.
Silence descended over the bridge like a heavy
blanket.
Bogle tapped his comm button and hailed
his chief engineer, ProjeffEllis. Ellis could
lead a team of engineers through a desert and come out the
other side with a pool full of water and a blonde
swimming in it. "Pro, what's the damage?"
"None, sir." The chief's voice came back
strong. "Just a few bruises and some wounded
pride."
"Thanks," Bogle said. He turned
to Gustavus. She still clutched her console, her
knuckles white with the strain. "Hail the
Enterprise for me."
"There's no need, sir," she said. "They're still
on-screen."
Kirk's hair looked even more tousled, and his
cheeks were red, as if he'd been exerting himself.
Bogle suspected he didn't look much better.
"That was some welcome," Bogle said.
"Thanks," Kirk said, smiling. "Expect it
every five-point-four minutes. This is a charming
section of space."
"I'm gathering that," Bogle said. He glanced
at Lee, who nodded. Apparently his science officer's assessment of the sector was the same as
Kirk's.
Behind Kirk, Bogle heard a woman
say, "Captain, we are being hailed by the
Klingons."
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Kirk nodded to Bogle. "I'll patch this
through to you. It should be interesting."
Bogle laughed. "Thanks." The screen went
blank.
Everything with Kirk was always interesting. Never by the
book, but always interesting.
PUT THE KLINGONS on screen, Kirk said
after Captain Bogle's face disappeared. "And
patch this through to the Farragut."
"Aye, sir," Uhura said.
Kirk rose so that he would face the Klingons
head-on. He spread his feet slightly, his hands
on his hips. He would let Bogle, an old friend,
see the shock Kirk felt at the destruction of the
entire section, but he would let the Klingons only
see his anger.
His very deep anger.
But he did have to handle this well. There were possible
survivors to think of.
The rescue would be delicate at best.
Impossible at worst.
After a moment, Klingon Supreme Commander 40
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
KerDaq appeared on the screen. He wore the
standard Klingon military uniform, with two
insignias near his right shoulder Kirk had never seen
before. The lines and ridges in KerDaq's face were
more pronounced than those of most Klingons Kirk had
met. He and KerDaq had
crossed each other's path only once before, without
problems, at a Federation/klingon conference. For a
Klingon, KerDaq was
reasonable. If he belonged to any other
species, he would be considered truculent.
Unfortunately, KerDaq was as good as
Klingons got.
"Captain Kirk," KerDaq said, his speech
slow and slightly accented. It was also tinged with
sarcasm. "I should have known you'd be
involved with this."
"A pleasure, as always, Commander," Kirk said,
not letting himself be baited. He knew Klingons.
They always came on strong and
didn't respect weakness of any kind.
"Save your pleasantries," KerDaq said.
"I do not discuss small things with people who would destroy
an entire star system."
For a moment Kirk didn't totally register what
KerDaq had just said. Then it sunk in. KerDaq
was blaming the Federation for this destruction. Kirk
couldn't let that stand.
"If you believe that the Federation had something to do
with the destruction of this system," Kirk said, "you are
wrong. Check your own records. We just
arrived."
"A ploy," KerDaq said.
"Is it?" Kirk asked. "Or is this all a
ploy on your 41
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
part to cover your use of that secret weapon we've
heard so much about?"
KerDaq looked stunned for a moment; then his face
colored. Before he could say anything, Mr. Spock
said, "Another wave, Captain. Five
seconds."
"I would suggest," Kirk said to KerDaq, "that you
hang on to something solid."
The subspace wave struck the
Enterprise as Kirk sat down in his command chair and
held on. The thin padding bounced against his
already bruised back. He'd been on an old
roller coaster back near San Francisco on
Earth. This felt a lot like it, only with grinding and
tearing sounds. For just a moment the lights dimmed, then
they came back up strong.
"Hold it together, Scotty," Kirk said too
softly for anyone to hear.
On the screen Kirk saw KerDaq stumble as the
wave hit, then grab on to one of the huge support
pillars running through the Klingon bridge. He
held on there, sneering at Kirk until the wave
had passed, then let go.
"Kirk," he said, moving a step closer to the
camera so that his face filled the screen. "If you and
your Federation destroyed this system, you will pay. I will
be watching."
With that the screen went blank.
Kirk tilted his head slightly, a bit bemused
that he had ever thought KerDaq reasonable. Then he
turned to Spock. "I don't think that went very
well."
"Obviously," Spock said. 42
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"The Klingons have moved a short distance away,"
Chekov said. "They are holding
positions."
The screen once again showed the destruction throughout the
Tautee system. The rings were expanding slowly, the
rocks and asteroids spreading in an ever-lengthening band
that would eventually encircle the sun.
Kirk clenched a fist. It was time to get on with
what they were here for. The Klingons could watch all they
wanted, as long as they stayed out of the way.
"Mister Spock," Kirk said. "I need to know
what's causing those subspace waves. And I need
a way to rescue those survivors."
Mr. Spock glanced at him. "That will take some
time, sir."
"We don't have time, Mister Spock." Kirk
glanced at the destruction spread out in front of
him. "And I doubt those survivors do either."
FOLLE DIDN T COME BACK.
Prescott released the restraints on her
chair, but kept a grip on one arm. She had sat
in the semidarkness for hours waiting for him. She had
expected him to return, telling her that the
signal wouldn't work, or that the attempt was in vain.
Instead, he was gone.
On a deep level, one she didn't want
to examine, she was afraid that something had happened
to him. Strange that the thought of his death disturbed her so
personally. He would be one more body, one more corpse
on her
head.
Nothing more.
But he was Folle, and he was still alive when the
moon shattered, and he had supported her.
She hadn't supported him.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
She had ridiculed his attempts to survive.
What had her biology instructor in early
children's class said? The basic instinct of all
creatures is survival.
Even for her.
She let go of the chair arm. The extremely low
gravity felt odd. Moving was like swimming, only
without the weight of the water around her. The air
supported her[\*thorngg'or at least that was what it
felt like[\*thorngg'z she pushed off from her
chair, buoyed her up when she jumped, and
almost made her feel as if she could fly.
It took her no time at all to reach the doors
to the amphitheater.
Then she stopped. She hadn't been outside this
room since the moon shattered. Folle had been
her window into the rest of the center. She had hidden from
her colleagues and staff like a child expecting
discipline from a parent.
Time to face the world again.
Or what was left of it.
She took a deep breath of the dry, stale air
and pulled open the big door.
The dim lights made the corridor seem
narrower than she remembered. Some chunks of
steel had fallen out of the ceiling. Long cracks
ran alongside the walls. Dust and debris
floated here, too, like they did inside, only here
they bounced off the walls, and had odd
trajectories. The air seemed thicker, harder
to breathe. The low ceiling now felt like a threat instead
of a comfort.
At any minute, it might topple on her.
But she faced that same threat inside the
amphitheater.
45
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
It was time for her to move. Time for her to go
to Folle.
If he still lived.
She took another deep breath of the
dust-caked air. Her throat was dry. Folle
had brought her food and water the last two days.
She had done nothing to survive. And now he
wasn't thinking of her at all.
She would go to the communications center. If he
wasn't there, working on the
signal[\*thorngg'well, she would worry about that
then.
At first, as she made her way down the
corridor, she tried to pretend to walk. But that
was like walking in neck-deep water. Her body
wanted to float. It was hard to stay on the ground.
The designers had built railings for the times when the
gravity ran out, but most of the railings had been
dislodged in the destruction.
Finally, she gave in, jumped forward, and kept
one hand above her so that she didn't rise too high
and hit her head on the ceiling.
The trip went quickly.
Most of the doors were closed or off their hinges, the
emergency lighting obscured by clouds of dust that
followed her. She was starting to understand why Folle had
been picking small metal objects out of the air and
putting them in his pockets. She had dodged more than
one piece of metal. Another
slammed her in the head. She hadn't been
traveling very fast and the piece of metal had been
coming at her at an even slower speed, but the combination
of her speed and the metal's speed caused a
collision that left a cut on her scalp.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
A few small droplets of blood floated
away as she quickly ripped a small piece of
cloth off her pants leg and held it against the wound.
It didn't really hurt. It was just annoying, because it
functioned as a reminder that she was still alive when so
many others weren't.
She was almost to the communications room when the station
started vibrating. The railing beside her banged against the
wall, sending a clanging through the narrow passage.
More debris floated by, this time at quicker speeds.
She wedged herself into a corner, hoping that nothing would
fall on her, nothing would hit her.
Then the vibrating stopped.
As it always did.
She knew some time soon it wouldn't stop.
She clung to the steel walls for a moment, shaken,
her eyes so dry that they hurt. She felt different
from the way she had before, and she wasn't sure why.
Until she realised.
She had protected herself.
For the first time since she watched the first planet
shatter, she had taken care of herself. Instead of
acquiescing to her death, she had actually tried
to prevent it.
She wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not.
She pushed a loose strand of hair off her
face, and wiped the dust from her nose. Her skin was
caked in dirt. Her hair was probably silver with
debris. Her clothing was in shreds.
And there was nothing she could do to
change any of it.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
She continued to make her way toward the
communications room. The corridor widened near it.
The door was open, and the light from inside
seemed brighter.
Maybe that was because she knew there were people inside.
She used the door to lever herself inside.
Three of her officers crowded around one lone
console panel. The other consoles were on their
sides, shattered, or ripped open for parts. Some
of the bolted chairs remained in place. Others were
shoved against the consoles, braced so that they wouldn't
float free in the low gravity.
Folle had his thin frame in the only chair in
front of the console, and beside him Carad and Rogaur
floated, watching. Both still wore their white lab
coats, now stained with dust and black streaks.
Carad's bald head had a nasty cut across the top
that made her remember her own. She again tapped it
with the scrap of cloth. It seemed the wound was clotting
or filling with dust. For the moment either would work.
The communications panel in front of the three men
was the only panel in the room
showing any power. Folle was typing something on the
panel.
"Did you have some luck?" she asked, floating up
to the back of Folle's chair and pulling herself down
into a standing position.
Folle started as if he had heard a
ghost. He glanced over his shoulder at her. And then
he smiled, the look full of warmth and welcome.
"We think we're sending on ten different bands,"
he said, as if her presence was not unusual, "but we
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
have no way of knowing for sure. But we have
to constantly keep inputting the data to keep it
running."
"How long did it take you to get the signal
running?"
"A while," Folle said. "I'm sorry I
forgot to bring you supplies. I lost track of the
time."
"That's fine," she said. Carad glanced at her as
if surprised that Folle had been taking care of
her. "I'm out now. I'll manage just fine."
"I knew you would," Folle said. He had
returned his attention to the console. Somehow, it had
become more important than she was. She wondered
when that had happened.
"You really think this will work?" she asked, hearing and
wincing at the hope in her own voice.
"In order for people to find us, they have to know we're
here."
What people? she wanted to ask, but she didn't.
They were busy. They weren't brooding. They would
spend their last few days well, instead of feeling
sorry for themselves like she was.
Like she was.
Oh, hell. It was time she started taking care of
herself as well. Death wasn't coming as quickly or as
easily as she would like. It was her philosophy
professor at the Studies Center who had said it
was better for a person to live in perfect understanding of
his crime than to die for that crime in complete
ignorance.
She finally understood what the professor had
meant.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
He had meant there were times when living was a greater
torture than dying.
It was time to accept her fate.
"I'm going back to the observation room. Maybe
I can get something working there. If there's someone out
there, maybe I'll find them." She let go of
Folle's chair. "Keep me posted."
The men knew she had no chance of getting
any of the observation equipment running
again, just as she knew their signal had no hope.
But like her they didn't say anything.
"Good luck," Folle said without turning away from
his work.
"You too." She pushed off slowly for the door.
Better to keep busy than to brood. The only
difference was Folle had himself convinced that some
mythical rescuer would appear.
She knew rescue was impossible.
The only people left alive in the entire universe
were in this station, as trapped as she was.
And when the center broke open, as it
inevitably would, they would all die.
Together.
CAPTAIN BOGLE remained in his captain's
chair, fingers gripping the arms. These subspace
waves disturbed him, in more ways than one. If they
could destroy a planet, they could destroy a ship.
And he didn't like putting his ship and crew in
unnecessary danger at any time.
He was having his officers monitor the waves
to see if they were growing in intensity. And also
to discover any other information they could about them.
Kirk's interaction with the Klingons bothered him
too. Something about the interchange
hadn't seemed right. Kirk had done fine
considering the Klingon's hostility, but it seemed as
if Kirk's ego had gotten in the way.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
"The Enterprise is hailing us, sir," Ensign
Gustavus said.
"Put it on screen," Bogle said.
He stood as Kirk's face filled the screen.
Kirk looked just as tousled as he had the last time
they'd talked. Bogle imagined he didn't look
much better since they'd ridden out three of the
subspace waves now.
"Nice job with the Klingons," Bogle said, not
smiling.
Kirk smiled and half laughed. "They always
love my charm." Then Kirk's smile faded.
"My science officer and chief engineer have a way
to get us inside the system. Fo where that signal is
coming from."
"Do they have a way back out?" Bogle
said.
"We'll get out." Kirk sounded impatient.
He clearly had a plan and wanted to tell
Bogle about it.
Bogle motioned for his science officer, Lee,
to join him. "You think we should respond to that
emergency signal we've been picking up?"
"The signal started after we appeared," Kirk
said.
"It could have been triggered by one of those waves,"
Bogle said.
"It could have," Kirk said. "Or survivors
might have triggered the signal themselves. We don't
know. But we need to find ou t."
Bogle glanced at Lee. Lee was frowning.
Rodriguez was monitoring the EU-INGON ships on
his navigational computer. Klingons,
subspace waves, and an emergency beacon.
Kirk was well known for 52
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
his tendency to rush in, to solve the problem no
matter how difficult. Bogle had gotten his
command by being more cautious. And this seemed like a very
logical time to be very, very cautious.
"Maybe we should see if we can verify
the distress signal. It might be a Klingon trap
of some sort."
Kirk waved his hand in the air as if brushing
aside Bogle's worries. "My science officer
tells me that asteroid could shatter in any of these
waves. If there are survivors, they'll be
killed. The faster we move the better."
"He's right, Captain," Lee said softly.
"If there are survivors, we have to get them out.
Quickly."
Bogle glanced sharply at Lee and then turned
back to Kirk. He didn't like the idea of risking
his ship in those waves. He would rather face Klingons
than lose the Farragut to some
unknown weapons system.
He sighed. Kirk arrived first.
Kirk had already assessed the situation.
Kirk had a phenomenal success rate.
And Kirk was right this time.
The survivors, if there were any, might be the
last of their destroyed race.
"All right," Bogle said, doing his best to keep
the irritation out of his voice. "What's your plan?"
As he asked the question, he wondered if they should have
been scrambling the message. The Klingons
were probably listening. But, then, what harm would that
do? All they would learn would be about the rescue
mission.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
"We try the old two-steps-forward-one-back
routine," Kirk said.
Bogle felt like that maneuver had been left out
of his playbook.was Kirk using a code after
all? He knew Starfleet procedure for letting
another commander know that the message was going to be
encoded. This wasn't it.
"Run that by me again."
Lee cleared his throat beside Bogle and then, without
waiting for permission to speak, said, "I understand it,
sir. We go in between waves and then to reduce the
effect of the wave we ride it outward for a short
distance. Surfing the wave. It's brilliant. And
I think it might work."
"Exactly," Kirk said. "The waves might be
more intense the closer we get into the system, and so
we'll be in them longer, riding with them, but it should work
just long enough to see if there are survivors."
"I'm still lost here," Bogle said. Now
he made no pretence in hiding his irritation.
"Explain this scheme to me one more time."
Lee broke in before Kirk could say anything.
He'd have to talk to Lee about this later.
"Imagine," Lee said, "that you are standing in
shallow water on the beach and a five-foot wave is
coming at you. If you stand there it will probably knock
you down. However, if you turn and float with it,
surf with it toward the shore, you won't feel its
force as much."
"And a starship will hold together through all this?"
Bogle asked Kirk, not looking at his first 54
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
officer. The Farragut had gone through a
number of difficult, stressful maneuvers, but
nothing quite like the one Lee described.
Kirk laughed, but there was no real joy in his
voice. "My chief engineer, Mister Scott,
assures me she will and so far he's never let me
down."
Bogle wished he had time to check with his own
engineer, Projeff, while this conversation was happening.
And he would, before the ship went anywhere near those
debris fields.
Lee was leaning forward beside Bogle,
caught up in the idea. "It would be better to go in
over the plane of the system," Lee said, "and come
down from on top of the debris field left by the
destruction of the planets. Less chance of collision
that way."
Kirk glanced off screen for a moment, then nodded.
"We'll do that. But Kelly, you'll be out here alone
with the Klingons."
"You don't think both ships should go in?"
Bogle asked, trying to ignore the thread of
relief running up his spine.
"No," Kirk said. "I think two ships might
confuse the matter. And besides, no point in
risking two ships at this point."
"I can handle the Klingons," Bogle said.
That much, anyway, was for the better, as far as he was
concerned.
Kirk ran a hand through his hair. It only made
the tousling worse. "I'll tell the Klingons what
we're going to do, and I'll ask them to help in the
rescue."
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
Whatever Bogle had expected Kirk
to say next, it wasn't that. The joke around
Starfleet command was that the word "help" wasn't even
in the Klingon lexicon[\*thorngg'at least when it
came to nonKlingons who needed the help.
"Help?" Bogle asked. "Are you kidding?"
Kirk shrugged. "What could it hurt?"
Now Bogle knew that Kirk was completely
crazy. He'd always half thought so, but now he
knew. Shaking his head, he said, "I guess it
won't hurt to ask. If they decide to join you,
it'll keep them busy for a while."
"And if they don't, you'll be out here with four
Klingon vessels."
Bogle snorted without meaning to. "Don't
worry about us, Jim. We can hold our own just
fine."
Kirk's grin was sudden and mischievous. "I
know," he said. "I've played cards with you. Remember? Stand by. I'll link you into the
conversation with the Klingons."
The screen went dead. Bogle sat in the
captain's chair, still shaking his head.
The circular bridge of the Klingon cruiser was
filled with activity. No one spoke. The green
walls and the dim lights made the bridge
seem wartime dark. That was probably
appropriate. War was as close as the tip of an
enemy's dagger.
KerDaq's second-in-command, and his closest
ally on the ship, KobtaHave, searched for the center
of the rift. KerDaq could trust none of his other 56
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
officers to find it and report the result to him in
a timely fashion. Several of his bridge crew had
recently arrived, and all needed to prove themselves before he trusted them. His commander's chair was
too precious to lose to a zealous young Klingon with a
name to make.
The other bridge officers were monitoring the
situation as well. They all knew this was the kind of
encounter that could go very badly for all of them, or
extremely well.
KerDaq intended to make it go well.
But they had done nothing except talk to the
Federation starships since they arrived. And they could do
nothing else.
Yet.
They had to wait.
KerDaq hated waiting. He was a warrior, not
someone who sat and waited. But he knew
every warrior had to have patience, had to know when to fight
and when not to fight.
This was not yet the time to fight.
The Federation ships first had to show him where their
secret superweapon was hidden.
He had a plan.
The Federation would have to retrieve their weapon.
KerDaq and his officers had studied the subspace
waves. Their ship could go into the waves and survive
if they moved with the waves as they passed. It would be
risky, but it would be worthwhile.
Then, when the Federation ships had the weapon, he
would take it from them.
KerDaq would have the Federation weapon. He 57
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
would personally take the weapon to the High
Council. Then he would be a hero.
"Commander," KjaHave, his science officer, said, his
voice rumbling through the silence, "we are still unable
to pinpoint the origin of the subspace waves."
KerDaq swung around in his high-backed
command chair and glared at his science officer.
"What can be so hard?"
"Sir, our position does not allow us a
good reading. If we could move . . ."
"We will not move," KerDaq said. He spoke
firmly. "Find the center, for at that center is the
Federation superweapon."
"Yes, sir," KjaHave said, snapping his heels
smartly on the fioor. He turned back to his
panel.
KerDaq nodded and swung back to face the main
screen, which showed the two Federation ships and the
destroyed system beyond. He tugged at the edge of his
gloves, making certain their steel points rested
across his knuckles. His science officer knew when
to back down and when to fight. That was the sign of a good
warrior. He would have to keep a sharp eye on him.
"Sir," Communications Officer KenIqu said.
"The Enterprise hails us."
"On screen," KerDaq said loudly. Then
to himself he added, "Let us see what kind of
treachery they are up to now."
Kirk's sneering face filled the screen.
KerDaq growled to himself. This Kirk was quickly
becoming one of the most hated and feared 58
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
officers in the Federation. KerDaq could see no
reason for the fear at the moment. Kirk had
no more strength than any other Federation weak-ling.
"Commander," Kirk said, nodding slightly.
At least, KerDaq thought, the man knows how to show
respect.
"We're going into the debris fields in the system," Kirk said. "We think we may have found
survivors there. We're going to attempt a
rescue of them. And[\*thorn]" He paused for
obvious
dramatic effect. "[\*thorngg'we could use
your help."
Kirk's words so surprised KerDaq that he
laughed, a full belly laugh as if a warrior
had just told a humorous story over a strong
drink.
Kirk's ugly human eyes narrowed. "What
is so funny, KerDaq?" he asked.
KerDaq leaned forward so that Kirk could see his
insignias, the badges of his house and his honor.
This Kirk thought him an idiot, easily tricked.
KerDaq would prove that wrong
immediately.
"You cannot fool us with your rescue ploy. You are
going in to retrieve your weapon."
This time it was Kirk's turn to look
shocked. KerDaq knew he had caught him in a
lie.
Human captains hid their emotions,
unsuccessfully, but valiantly. This wide-eyed
shock, this obvio us reaction, was part of the trick,
inexpertly done.
Kirk shook his head. "I told you, KerDaq,
we don't have a weapon. But we have received a
distress call, and we will not ignore it. We're
going in. We would like you to come with us."
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
"You have another ship," KerDaq said. "You do not
need us."
"We don't know how many survivors there are,"
Kirk said. "The more ships we have, the more space we
have to beam survivors aboard."
"You are quite inventive," KerDaq said. "But we
have done our own scans of your waves. Any ship that
ventures into that system would be destroyed. Unless, of
course, it understood the weapon, and had a way
to shield itself from the weapon's effect."
"We don't have any special shield," Kirk
said. "But we do have a plan.
If[\*thorn]"
"Enough, Kirk." KerDaq swept his arm in the
general direction of the ruined system. "Do as you
please. But we will be watching and
waiting. Do not think you can leave this area with that
weapon."
KerDaq pounded the button on his chair and cut
Kirk's answer off. There was no use
listening to any more lies. He would not let Kirk
lead one single Klingon warrior to his death. He
would watch where Kirk went,
shielded, into the center of the destruction.
And he would watch Kirk remove his weapon.
He would let Kirk's actions prove his
guilt.
"Commander," KenIqu said, "the Enterprise is
moving."
KerDaq nodded. "Inform the QuaQa that we will be
following the Enterprise. The other two ships are
to remain close to the second
Federation vessel."
"Yes, sir," KenIqu said.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"Subspace wave approaching,"
KobtaHave said.
KerDaq sat back, smiling, holding on to his
chair while he watched the Enterprise move
slowly off.
Soon the great Captain Kirk would be
caught and disgraced. And the weapon that could do this
destruction would be where it belonged in the hands of the
Empire.
THE ENTERPRISE BROKE AWAY from the
Farragut and flew above the plane of the solar
system, staying a safe distance from the remains of the
planets. The bridge crew's expressions were
tight, focused. They knew there was a high risk in
this rescue operation, especially since there might not
be anyone left to rescue.
They were willing to take the chance. They trusted
Kirk. They always had.
And he trusted them as well.
"Full shields," he said. "Keep her steady,
Mr. Sulu."
"Aye, sir." Sulu's gaze was focused on
the screen.
"Captain," Chekov said. "Two
Klingon ships are following us." He glanced over
his shoulder, his eyes wide with surprise and tension.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Kirk smiled. So, KerDaq had decided
to tag along after all. He wouldn't come down into the
debris fields, but he would stand watch. Well, as
far as Kirk was concerned they could watch all they
want. There was no superweapon, and he doubted the
Federation would ever work on one.
"Captain?" Chekov's accent got thicker when
he grew nervous.
"Monitor them, Ensign," Kirk said.
"But Captain[\*thorn]"
"Monitor them," Kirk said, his smile growing.
KerDaq knew how to get through those waves as much as
they did. Perhaps he was worried that in saving the
survivors, Kirk would discover the Klingon's
weapon. Always, Kirk had
learned, always listen to your enemies"
professed fears, because often they were talking about
what they would do[\*thorngg'or what they had
done[\*thorngg'themvs.
Chekov was sputtering. He bent over his
console.
"Oh, and Ensign," Kirk said, enjoying
Chekov's consternation a bit more than he should,
"put the ship on yellow alert. Shields up and
extra power to the forward shield. I want the crew
to be prepared for anything."
"Aye, sir!" Chekov said with such relieved
fervor that Kirk had to stifle a laugh.
"Entering the debris field of the remains of the
fifth planet," Sulu said.
Kirk gripped the arms of his chair, even though the
ship hit no bumps. "Keep her
steady, Sulu," Kirk said.
Huge asteroids drifted past the screen. Between
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
the huge chunks of what was left of the fifth
planet were millions of tiny rocks and dust. They
bounced off the shields like stones
skipping over water. Kirk wasn't bothered much
by the small ones at this speed. The fear was running
into one too large for the shields to deflect.
Sulu didn't answer. He was obviously
concentrating on keeping the ship on a course through
the large rocks.
"Dead ahead," Spock said.
"Full stop," Kirk said. The huge asteroid
looked barren from this distance. Kirk couldn't believe
life could have survived there.
"I believe we will need to move closer if we
are going to attempt the rescue," Spock said.
Kirk hated it when Spock used the word "attempt." He was so precise that he meant each word
he said. Words like "attempt" meant
Spock had doubts as to whether or not the project
would succeed.
Kirk pushed himself out of the captain's chair.
No sense hesitating.
Or dwelling on the word "attempt."
They would succeed or die trying.
"Mister Sulu," Kirk said. "Take us in as
close as you can to that hunk of rock."
"Aye, sir." Sulu looked somber as he
punched in the coordinates. He would manually
maneuver the close-in work. It was too
sensitive for the computers.
In times like this Kirk sometimes ached to pilot the
ship himself. But Sulu was one of the best. Sulu would
bring them in safely.
64
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"Mister Sulu," Spock said, "we face our
first subspace wave in the debris field. It shall
arrive in one minute. I have fed a course into your
computer. On my mark, follow that course at
one-tenth impulse for exactly three seconds."
"Course laid in and waiting for your
command, Mister Spock," Sulu said.
Kirk glanced at Spock, who had his face
buried in his viewfinder. He had trusted his life
to Spock more times than he could remember. This time
he was trusting the entire ship to him. One slip and the
subspace wave would shake them apart, or slam them
into a huge piece of the planet.
"Captain," Uhura said, "the distress signal
is coming from inside the asteroid."
"Magnify screen, Mister Chekov."
A gray, jagged-surfaced rock filled the
screen, slowly rotating to the right.
"Fifteen seconds until my mark, Mister
Sulu," Spock said.
Kirk turned to IJ-HURA. "Can you get an
exact fix on the location, Lieutenant?"
"It's too deep underground, sir." She
swiveled toward him, her brow furrowed,
almost as if she didn't believe the readings. "At
least a
kilometer deep."
Kirk punched his comm button to
engineering. "Scotty," he said, "can you rig the
transporters to work through a kilometer of rock?"'
"I wouldn't want to beam in there," Scotty said,
his voice sounding far away. "But if it's the
survivors you'll be trying to beam out, we can do it.
If I can get a fix on them, that is."
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
"Now, Mister Sulu!" Spock said.
The Enterprise surged forward, leaving the jagged hunk of rock behind.
Then the subspace wave hit.
Far worse than before.
The ship bumped and rocked like a boat on a
stormy ocean. Kirk gripped his chair, but that
didn't steady him. His body bumped in and out of the
chair as if it were a malfunctioning ejection seat.
Sulu braced his feet against the console in front
of him, but kept himself in place. Chekov bounced out
of his chair. Spock tumbled
backward, caught himself, but was unable to stand.
Giant hunks of the destroyed planet flashed
past the screen, and the shield howled and grew red with the
impacts of small rocks and dust.
Then the wave had passed.
Spock stood, dusted himself off, and returned to the
science station as if nothing had
happened. Chekov shook his head once as if he
were clearing it, then climbed back into his chair.
"Mister Sulu," Kirk said, "get us back
to that asteroid."
"Aye, sir."
The Enterprise wove her way through a maze of
rocks. The light vibrating continued from the pounding of
rocks against the shield.
"How are our friends the Klingons, Mister
Chekov?"
"The fleas are still with us, sir. But they are staying
safely above the debris field."
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Kirk nodded. The Enterprise continued to wind her
way through the debris cloud. The movement didn't
take very long, but it felt like forever.
Finally the huge asteroid filled the
screen again. The asteroid was vaguely triangular,
with large chunks of rock hanging off its side like
knives.
"Captain," Spock said, "we are now close
enough that I have been able to get more
precise readings from the asteroid. It was a part of the
fifth planet's moon, and is now the largest
remaining chunk of that moon. There is some sort of
base a kilometer underground. Most of the base has
been destroyed. But the signal does originate from
there."
"Survivors, Spock?" Kirk asked. He
could suddenly feel his heart pounding against his chest.
So far they had been acting under supposition. Now
they might be able to get confirmation.
"I have very faint readings, Captain," Spock
said. "There seem to be ninety-two separate life
signs, all clustered in the same general area."
"Send the information to the transporter room."
Kirk punched the comm button so hard that he bent his
index finger backward. "Scatty, there are people
inside that asteroid. Get them out of there."
"Aye, sir!"
"Kirk to sickbay. McCoy, we have
survivors beaming aboard. I would imagine
many are injured."
McCoy's voice came back strong.
"Understood." 67
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
"Mister Sulu," Spock said, "we shall encounter
another wave in one minute and forty-six
seconds. I have sent new coordina tes to your
screen. On my mark, follow that course at
one-ninth impulse."
"Course laid in, Mister Spock."
"Come on, Scotty," Kirk said to himself.
He'd rather not ride another subspace wave through this
debris field.
"Captain," Spock said, keeping his face
buried in the viewfinder. His voice rose with
fascination. "Owing to our new location, I have finally
located the source of the subspace waves. They
originate from what appears to be a rift in space
in the area where the ninth planet used to be."
"A rift?" Kirk asked. The Klingons had a
weapon strong enough to create a rift in space?
How was that possible?
Kirk punched the comm button. "Scotty.
How's it going?"
"One minute, Mister Sulu," Spock said.
"We're getting them, sir," Scotty's
voice replied.
Kirk sat staring at the huge chunk of a moon
filling the screen. Hard to believe it had saved
ninety lives by staying together. Sometimes the universe
did strange things.
Spock held up his hand. "Five seconds,
Mister Sulu."
"Scotty!" Kirk barked into the comm. "Are you
finished?"
"No, sir. Beaming ninety-two people through a
kilometer of rock is precision work. If
I[\*thorn]"
"Then we'll come back for the rest," Kirk said.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"Now, Mister Sulu." Spock's arm went
down as he spoke as if were starting a race.
And again the Enterprise flashed away from the
asteroid, riding the crest of the subspace wave like a
surfer headed for the beach.
A very rocky beach that Kirk hoped they'd never
hit.
69
THE TINY NOISES she made seemed
overwhelming in the cavernous room.
Prescott had crawled underneath the main-screen
control panel. She had portable lights attached to her wrists[\*thorngg'she couldn't find any
helmet lamps[\*thorngg'and she had been working for
some time. She had discovered that Pollers
philosophy was right; it was better to be busy. That
way, she didn't have time to dwell on the hopelessness
of their situation.
Or on its cause.
When she had crawled under the panel, she had been
surprised. Despite the shaking and dust, the panel
appeared to be in fine shape. The problem was with the
lack of power (how ironic), the shattered connections
to the surface, and the 70
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
aboveground cameras, as she had expected. Still,
she double-checked every circuit, every system, and every
chip.
"Any success?" Folle's voice rang to her
from above. She hadn't even heard him enter. That
pleased her. She had been concentrating hard.
She shut off her wrist lights, pushed
herself free of the access panel, and half-floated
into an upright position. Her hands were covered with dust,
and she knew the sweat on her face was also making
black lines in the layers of dirt.
"Everything here is fine," she said. "I was about
to check to see if I could draw enough power from the
emergency field to connect to an outside camera,
if any are still out there."
Folle had turned and was holding on to the back of
her chair. "Good idea," he said. "Let
me[\*thorn]" He started to push off from the chair
to move to the emergency power panel on the far wall
when suddenly his entire body started to shimmer.
The shocked look on his face told Prescott
that she wasn't imagining the effect. His entire
body really was shimmering, as if she were looking at
him through a layer of water and someone was stirring the
water up.
Then he was gone.
No noise.
No pop.
Nothing.
Gone.
One moment he was there and the next
moment he wasn't.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
"Folle?" she said, starting toward his last position out of instinct.
He was gone.
She stopped, holding on to the back of her chair.
Maybe her mind was gone as well. The guilt and
stress of the last few weeks would have driven anyone
insane. Why would she
think she'd be any different?
"Folle?" she called out once more, only to have
her voice echo through the empty
chamber. Was this what happened when people died? Did
the billions of people who were alive when the waves hit
remain in place for a few moments, a few days, and
then shimmer into nothingness?
Or had she imagined him in the first place?
Maybe he hadn't come at all.
"You're starting to lose it," she said to the
emptiness. "Hang in there just a little longer."
Long enough to find him. He had to be on the station
somewhere. And if he wasn't, well, then maybe she
would have to examine his
disappearance as a death.
Another death caused by the experiment.
She gripped her chair, about to push herself toward the
door, when the station started to rumble and shake.
Several chunks of steel fell from the ceiling.
Dust floated around her. The emergency lights
flickered.
And she knew she was going to die.
She swung around into her chair and held on. Every
since she had followed Folle's advice, her
survival instincts had kicked in. She didn't
want to die.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Not anymore.
Even though she really didn't deserve to live.
Then the rumbling stopped and the dust
began to settle again, coating her and
everything in the room with another fine layer of
gray.
In front of her the blank screens taunted
her, laughed at her, told her by their very emptiness that
she wasn't dead. Yet.
Inside, she was still shaking. Folle's disappearance terrified her more than she wanted to admit.
She had spent the last five years with him
on this research facility. They had been together most
of that time.
He was helping her through this, and she had thought they would
die together.
She brushed a strand of hair out of her face with
her wrist lamp, its plastic cool against her
forehead, and forced herself to take a deep breath. She
didn't know he was dead yet. She had to search first.
She was a scientist. Scientists waited for
evidence.
She hadn't touched him when he was here the last time.
She had been working. She had been under a lot of
strain. People who were under stress imagined things.
Like that odd feeling all over her body, as if
something very small were breathing on her skin.
All of her skin.
She brought her arm down, and stared at it. It was
composed of multicolored light. And it was shimmering.
She opened her mouth to call for help
when[\*thorn]
[\*thorngg'everything went black. 73
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
Then almost instantly, she was in bright light. She
blinked. The air was clear here, and it
smelled fresh.
"Captain," said a strange voice with an even
stranger accent. "I've got one more set to go."
She blinked again. Red and green spots
danced in her vision.
"Excellent, Scotty. Do it quickly. I'd like
to be out of here as soon as possible." The second
voice had a tinny quality and a completely
different accent, another one she had never heard before.
Slowly the glare eased and she could see. She was
standing on a platform with several circles on it.
Directly across from her a man in a red uniform
stood behind a console. He grinned at her, an
infectious twinkle in his eyes. His skin was pale,
and his hair was a shade of black she had never seen
before.
Two other red-uniformed people stood beside an open
door. Beyond it was a yellow corridor.
She swallowed and glanced at her arm[\*thorn]
surreptitiously, she hoped. It was normal,
as dustcovered as it had been in the main control
room. Then she saw movement beside her. On the
platform, three other members of her staff stood.
She could have sworn they weren't there when she first
arrived.
"And that's the last of them," the man said. He
spoke loudly, as if he were addressing someone
else. But the people at the door were staring straight
ahead, like guards, and no one else appeared to be in
the room.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Except Folle, standing in the shadows to her
left.
"Folle," she said, breathing his name like a
lifeline.
Scatty grinned, stepped forward, and held out his
hand to help her down from the
platform. "Welcome to the Starship Enterprise,
was he said.
THE ENTERPRISE SWUNG out of the debris
field left from the breakup of the fifth planet and
its moon. Kirk let his grip on his chair
relax slightly. Taking a starship twisting and
weaving in through a thousand floating
mountains, all moving in different directions at
different speeds, was not his idea of excitement.
However, he couldn't contain his elation.
They had rescued the survivors. Scotty had
pulled them from their asteroid tomb, and they would be able
to go on with their lives.
Very different lives from the ones they had before, but
lives just the same.
Still, he couldn't let the elation overtake him. The
Enterprise wasn't out of this mess yet.
The slowly forming rings surrounding the
Tautee
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
sun stretched out on the viewscreen. Kirk
felt like he was staring out over the top of a desert
wasteland. Such devastation, and it had
happened so quickly.
"Take us back to the Farragut's position,
Mister Sulu. As quickly as you safely can."
"Aye, sir." The strain of manually
maneuvering around the huge asteroids had formed tiny
exhaustion lines around Sulu's eyes. Still, his
concentration never seemed to waver. At moments like this
Kirk was very proud of his crew.
"Both Klingon vessels are still following us,"
Chekov said, almost sneering in disgust.
"Let them," Kirk said. The Klingon
shadows annoyed him, too. "As long as they stay out
of the way."
"Captain?" Spock said. He had an odd
note in his voice.
Kirk glanced at him. Spock never showed
elation[\*thorngg'he rarely showed any emotion at
all[\*thorngg'b Kirk had learned to read the
subtle nuances in Spock's inflections.
Kirk didn't like the sound of this one.
He swiveled his ch air to make sure he could
see his science officer clearly. For a moment he
almost thought he saw a troubled expression on
Spock's face, then dismissed the idea. Spock
looked as impassive as always.
"I have been scanning a few of the larger asteroids
in the rings created after the breakup of the four inhabited
planets."
"Looking for survivors," Kirk said, feeling
an odd fluttering sensation in his stomach. He
wanted 77
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
to find more survivors, wanted the destruction to be
less serious than it seemed.
But he also knew that the Enterprise and the
Farragut had serious limitations in the rescue
effort, and if more survivors were out there, they would need
to be pulled off those asteroids immediately.
"I have found six other possible pockets of
survivors," Spock said. "The survivors would
seem to be in underground bunkers on larger
asteroids. Based on these observations, I believe
there may be as many as a dozen more bunkers and
cavities filled with survivors among the
asteroids."
A dozen more. They had rescued almost one hundred
people off this one. The Enterprise barely had room for
them.
Kirk pushed himself out of his chair, and hurried
toward the science station. He leaned over the console,
but saw no numbers. As usual, Spock had done
the calculations in his head.
"Are you sure?" Kirk asked.
Spock's long face suddenly seemed even
longer. He raised one eyebrow as if he
couldn't believe that the captain had questioned him.
"Absolutely, Captain," Spock said.
"But at these distances, Mister Spock, how can you
get accurate readings?" Chekov asked the question from his
post near the screen.
Uhura was watching them.
Sulu had his head cocked, so that he could keep
an eye on his work while monitoring the conversation.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
They all understood the risks behind finding new
survivors.
"At these distances," Spock said, in his slow,
pedantic,
I-cannot-believe-anyone-would-ask-thisquestion voice,
"and with these subspace disturbances, I cannot get
actual readings of humanoid forms9"
"Oh," Kirk said.
Spock glanced around, and when no one else said a
word, he continued. "However, I have searched the
asteroids for such places as the bunker we just found,
places that would hold atmosphere, and would sustain
life since the planets' breakup. We must also
calculate the incalculable factors as well.
We found a moon base. I am looking at the
planets only. We must assume there are other
moon bases, and
perhaps even a spaceship or two which survived
unscathed. We[\*thorn]"
"How many survivors?" Kirk asked.
He had grown tired of the explanation. He wanted
to know what was before him. He wanted to know what
decisions he faced next.
"I cannot give you a precise figure,"
Spock said.
Kirk groaned.
Spock pressed on. "There are too many varia-bles. But the survivors of this incident may
number in the thousands, possibly more."
"The thousands, possibly more." Kirk said, repeating Spock's words, not believing his ears.
He took a step backward. His stomach ached,
and his mind swirled.
"Thousands?"
Dean Wesiey Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
"Yes, Captain," Spock said. "Thousands."
Kirk staggered to his chair, and sat down. Between the Farragut and the Enterprise, they might be
able to rescue five hundred.
But thousands were not possible without help.
A lot of help.
"Captain," Spock said. "Time is of the
essence. With every subspace wave, the threat
to these survivors grows."
"I know, Spock." Kirk took a deep
breath. The main screen displayed the Farragut and
four Klingon cruisers. Even if the Klingons
deigned to help them, there wouldn't be enough room on the
ships for thousands of survivors. The Federation had
to send more ships.
But he didn't know if they would.
The Prime Directive. Admiral
Hoffman's
warning came back clearly to his mind.
Rescuing a few hundred survivors of a
subwarp culture was one thing, but rescuing thousands
and thousands would, through an odd twist of fate,
violate the Prime Directive.
The Prime Directive stated that cultures
had to live without interference from more advanced peoples.
That allowed the cultures to develop at their own
pace. Part of that development for many cultures,
including Earth's, meant flirting with their own
destruction. Famine, flood, and war threatened each
culture at various times. It was natural.
The Federation could save the remaining hundred or
so of a race because the culture was effectively dead.
But to beam up thousands meant 80
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
that this pre-warp culture would continue and suddenly
learn about the existence of starships and warp drive and
humans and Vulcans and Klingons.
Saving thousands meant violating the Prime
Directive.
It meant a direct involvement in lives that should
have no involvement at all.
The Federation had discovered the hard way that it was
better to let the race suffer through its own natural
existence[\*thorngg'whatever that might
be[\*thorngg'than to interfere.
But in this case, the "natural existence" meant
certain death for thousands.
He couldn't let thousands die.
But he didn't really have a choice. His orders
were that he had to.
BRUISES, CUTS, BROKEN BONES.
And filth.
McCoy hadn't seen that much filth since he
went back in time to old Earth. Although these people couldn't
be blamed for the dirt. They had lived for weeks in a
crisis situation.
McCoy was working in the cargo decks. The
hundred survivors fit better in here than they
did in sickbay. Security was carrying the worst
of the wounded[\*thorngg'^th with shattered limbs,
gangrenous infections[\*thorn)'ffsickbay, where
Nurse Chapel would sedate them until McCoy
could get there.
Fortunately he had found no internal injuries
yet. And even more fortunately, Scotty's golf
contraption was disassembled. Instead of fake green
grass and mist off the sea, the deck had been 82
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
transformed into a makeshift hospital and
refugee area full of beds, blankets, and
wounded.
Tauteeans leaned against walls, and lay, eyes
closed, on beds. A few sat on chairs, their
short legs unable to reach the ground. They didn't
look like children, though. They looked like shrunken
humans.
But they weren't human.
Tauteeans were a thin-boned, almost birdlike people.
He doubted that the heaviest of them weighed more than a
normal ten-year-old child. The men were no more than
five feet tall, and the women were shorter
than that. But they had a compelling attractiveness that
had something to do with their frailty, and with their delicate
bodies. Something that made McCoy want
to protect them.
Maybe it was the sense of despair around them.
McCoy had been on rescue missions before, and the
survivors always celebrated when they were lifted
away from certain death. Then, days[\*thorn]
sometimes months[\*thorngg'later, they felt
survivors' guilt. But these people seemed to be
feeling it already. Even the ones who weren't seriously
wounded closed their eyes and didn't speak much to those
around them.
The silence in the bays was unnerving. His voice,
blended with that of his current patient, would bounce
against the high ceiling, sending mocking echoes throughout.
No one looked, no one watched, not even to see
if a colleague was all right. Not even after a 83
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
subspace wave hit, and they all clutched the
nearest post, the nearest wall, for balance.
McCoy would have to monitor all of his
patients carefully. Despair this deep made
a shallow cut deadly; he had learned
long ago that people who wished to die often could force their
bodies to cease functioning properly.
In fact, he was more worried about their mental
conditions than their physical ones. The loss of a
house, a dwelling, a plot of land, was bad enough.
The loss of a country was
devastating. The loss of a planet, and the
destruction of a solar system, was beyond his comprehension.
Not only was the beloved dwelling gone, but so were the
land that it rested on and the air that surrounded it. He
hadn't returned to his family home, his Earth,
in a long time, but if he received news that Earth and
her sister planets were gone[\*thorn] well, the
thought made his breath catch in his throat.
McCoy was working on a man who had cuts all
over his hands and arms. One long gash ran down the
side of his cheek, and bumps rose from his forehead as
if he had been hit with a dozen rocks. The cuts
were dirty but not yet infected. McCoy shot the
man full of antibiotics and gingerly picked up
the man's left hand. McCoy was leery of these fine
bones. If he gripped them too hard, he felt
he would shatter them with his simple touch.
The man had moaned once, when McCoy
touched a particularly deep slash in the
upper arm, and then had said nothing else. His
breathing sounded loud in the cargo bay's stillness.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Then McCoy heard a chair clang. He
glanced to his left, past the rows of barrels that
Scotty kept for some unknown purpose, and watched
a slender dark-haired woman move from person
to person. She touched each Tauteean she
passed, and spoke softly. They smiled in
response. Sad smiles, but smiles
nonetheless.
The woman moved with both leadership and apology,
as if she were accepting responsibility for everything.
McCoy had seen Jim Kirk do the same in
difficult situations. The leadership seemed to give
the others strength, and the apology was an acknowledgment
of their pain.
McCoy smiled to himself and went back to his work.
Her low voice soothed even him. Her touch with these
people would probably help them more than McCoy could.
He had finished with the man's arms and had just reached
for the long gash when he felt a presence beside him.
McCoy looked down. The woman was running her
fingers over the man's healed skin.
"Be careful," McCoy said. "It'll still be a
bit tender."
She looked up at him, her dark eyes intense
and shadowed at the same time. "It looks
healed," she said. Her voice was rich, deep, and
musical.
"It is," McCoy said. "But the memory of the
pain remains for about an hour."
A man came up behind her. He was as tall as
she was. He put a hand possessively on her
shoulder. She didn't shrug him off, but she
didn't acknowledge him either. The man didn't
seem to mind.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
She watched for another minute, then seemed
to gather herself. She obviously hadn't come to talk
about the wounded. She had come for
something else.
McCoy finished cleaning the gash, then
pinched its edges together and mended the skin. The other
man gasped[\*thorngg'obviously this
technology was beyond them[\*thorngg'b the woman
didn't. She waited until McCoy
was finished.
He glanced down at her, and she lifted her chin,
clearly ready to ask her question.
"I would like to speak to your . . ." The woman
hesitated for a moment before finding the right word. "dis . .
captain. Is there some way you can help me do this?"
Suddenly the ship rocked and shuddered as another
subspace wave crashed into it. The room seemed
to rumble, and people fought to keep their feet. McCoy
spread his feet and managed to remain standing over his
patient out of almost sheer will. The woman in front of
him also remained standing, while the man following her was
knocked to the deck. Screams and cries resounded
against the walls as wounds were reopened, and people fell.
McCoy also sensed an undercurrent of deep
fear. These people were afraid the subspace waves would
kill them. They had a right to be afraid.
And all reacted accordingly. All except this alien
woman beside him. She withstood the shuddering and shaking of the
deck as if it were only a passing annoyance and not
important in the scheme of things.
Almost as quickly as it hit, the shuddering 86
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
passed. The cries stopped, and the silence
returned. The woman was still looking at him
as if they hadn't been interrupted.
McCoy cleared his throat. "The captain is
pretty busy at the moment, as you might guess.
I can take you to him later when things are calmer."
"I think your captain will want to see me," the
woman said. "I am the leader of these people. I also have
information that might be helpful about the shock waves."
McCoy nodded and glanced around. This
room was under control. The survivors in the other
cargo bay weren't as badly injured as the folks
here. He needed to go to sickbay, to mend the broken
bones and work on the serious
infections, but he could take a detour to the
bridge. It wouldn't take long, and it might turn
out interesting.
"All right," he said. "I'm sure the captain
would appreciate the help. I'll take you to him."
He put out his hand. "I'm Dr. Leonard
McCoy."
The woman hesitated for a moment, then put her
surprisingly small hand in his, like a queen at a
Regency ball. "Prescott," she said, and,
indicating the man behind her, added, "This is
Folle."
McCoy nodded at her companion, and
resisted the urge to bow over her hand like a courtly
gentleman. Her strength attracted him, but her
fragility and sense of loss made him
protective. The man watched him warily.
McCoy reluctantly released her hand.
She was studying his face with puzzlement.
"Have I done something to offend you?" he asked,
suddenly worried that touching hands might 87
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
have a different significance in her culture than
it did in his.
She shook her head. "Dr. Leonard
McCoy, why do you have three names?"
McCoy opened his mouth, closed it, and
opened it again. Why did he have three names? He
suddenly couldn't think of a good answer.
She watched him with a seriousness that made him feel
as if his life depended on his answer.
Finally he just laughed and said, "My people have never
been known for doing anything the easy way."
Her puzzled frown kept him chuckling to himself
all the way to the turbolift.
THE BR-RDGE OF nrEvery Enterprise was as
silent as a tomb.
It felt as if time had stopped.
Uhura held a hand over her communications
console.
Sulu was still watching the screen, but his head was
tilted oddly as if he were trying to see the captain
out of the corner of his eye.
Chekov was watching him, eyes wide.
The three other ensigns on the bridge had
swiveled their chairs so that they could see the captain.
And Spock was studying him as if he were a
particularly interesting[\*thorngg'and possibly
dangerous [\*thorngg'extraterrestrial bug.
Kirk was used to the scrutiny, and he appreci-ated the silence. He had to decide whether or not
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
rescue the remaining survivors of the Tautee
disaster[\*thorngg'and how.
Spock said there might be thousands.
Thousands were more than the Enterprise and Farragut
could handle. And with that many survivors of a pre-warp
culture, a rescue attempt would be
violating the Prime Directive, and the Federation
would no doubt order him to back off if he asked for
more help.
But there had to be a way around the rules. He had
beaten the Kobayashi Maru and he
could beat this.
On the main screen in front of him the four
Klingon cruisers hung. They seemed to be just
waiting also. But why and for what, Kirk had no dea.
Maybe the Klingons were the key to solving the
survivors' problem. Kirk swiveled around
to face his science officer. "Spock, any theory as
to what caused this destruction?"
Spock raised an eyebrow as if that were not what
he expected the captain to ask. "I have no
concrete theory yet, Captain. I do not know what
caused the destruction. It may have been caused by the
Tauteeans. It may have been a natural disaster
of a type we have not seen before. I just do not know, and at
this moment I am unwilling to speculate."
"You could have just said no," Kirk muttered.
Spock swiveled, and glanced into his scope.
Kirk steepled his fingers. Thousands of lives
rested on this next decision.
Of course, his old colleague and
nemesis, Admir90
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
al William Banning, would have said that Kirk
did not trust the process well enough. The
Federation's guidelines were simple A pre-warp
culture had to develop naturally. If a
natural disaster wiped it out, then that was part of
"naturally." If a natural disaster hit, and
only a few survived, they needed the opportunity
to save themselves without help.
But Kirk wasn't convinced this disaster was
natural. And the Federation had no real
guidelines for what to do with the pre-warp
survivors of an attack by a more advanced race.
"Captain," Spock said, his voice calm as
always. "Another subspace wave shall hit us in ten
seconds."
"Could a Klingon superweapon have caused all
this?" Kirk asked.
Spock glanced over his shoulder at the
captain. Uhura took a deep, sudden breath
and held it.
Out of the corner of his eye Kirk could see Sulu
turn to look at him.
"At this point, Captain," Spock
said carefully, "I am not willing to speculate."
The entire ship shook and moaned as the internal
stabilisers fought to keep the ship level against the
huge forces shaking it. Kirk held on to the arms of
his chair and rode it out. The chair bumped against his
spine and legs, the thin cushion no protection against
each impact.
Sulu clung to the helm.
Chekov tried to swivel his chair back and
nearly fell again.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
And Uhura maintained her balance with the grace of a
ballerina.
They were getting used to these waves,
although this one felt as if it was bumping harder than
the last.
Spock frowned and even before the shaking had stopped
turned back to his scope. Kirk jumped to his
feet, relieved to be off that chair, and moved up
to the rail near the science station.
"Was that more intense?" he asked. He
already knew the answer. It was clearly a stronger
wave, but he needed Spock to confirm his
senses.
After a moment Spock looked up. "Since our
arrival into this system, the intensity of the subspace
wave has increased by almost ten percent. The rate of
increase appears to be constant."
"Constant?" Kirk said. He had not expected
that. He had thought that all the waves had been
similar until this one. "Can you speculate on this
increase, Spock?"
"Unfortunately, yes, Captain," Spock
said. "If this rate of increase continues, the
Tautee sun will be torn apart in approximately
twenty-seven-pointthree days."
"Torn completely apart?" Kirk asked. He
couldn't wrap his mind around that level of destruction any more than he could around fifteen
planets destroyed.
Spock nodded. "Yes, sir. In sixty-two
days the closest planetary system will be
destroyed."
Kirk could feel his stomach starting to flutter, and
he took a deep breath. It didn't seem to
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
help. There were four billion more lives
in the Wheaten system. "It will spread that far?"
Kirk asked, his voice low, hoping he had heard
wrong.
Spock kept one hand on the science console, as
if he were still bracing himself against the subspace wave.
"If the rate of increase
continues, and I see no logical reason why it
should not, the waves emanating from this rift in space will
be strong enough to destroy the planet Vulcan in
approximately four hundred and eight days. And the
planet Earth twenty-six days later."
"Four hundre d and eight days?"
Kirk leaned against the rail. Its support
felt good against his back. Klingons, survivors,
the Prime Directive, and now this. They would have
to close that rift somehow, stop the waves. One year
and the Federation would cease to exist if he didn't
act. He had to stop those waves.
And he would wager the only way to stop the waves
was to know what caused them.
Kirk turned again to face Spock. "If these
waves are growing in intensity, Mr. Spock, how
long until we have to move the Enterprise?"
"Ten hours, Captain. I would recommend,
however, that we find a safer distance before that."
Kirk returned to his chair, and sat heavily
in it, instantly regretting the movement as a jolt
ran up his spine. Ten hours. Why did every
important event in his career have to have such a short
timetable?
He glanced at the Klingon ships on the screen.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
Suddenly rescuing Tautee survivors and
violating the Prime Directive seemed very
small. If he didn't act and act now, there would
be no Prime Directive, no Federation, and no
planet Earth.
The whir of the turbolift doors filled the
silence on the bridge. He didn't turn to see
who had entered. He had too much on his plate
already. The next problem, whatever it was, could
wait.
The bridge crew seemed to feel the same way,
for no one[\*thorngg'except
Sulu[\*thorngg'had taken their gaze off him.
They were waiting for him to act.
And act he would.
He clenched a fist and pushed it into the
armrest. "How do we close this rift in space,
Mister Spock?"
"I do not know, Captain. I do not even know how
it was created."
"I do, Captain."
Kirk didn't recognize the voice.
He spun quickly around to face Dr. McCoy and
tiny people who were obviously two of the Tautee
survivors. The man was staring at the equipment in
awe. He was small and delicate, looking more like a
boy than a full-grown being, except for the age
lines on his face.
The woman was staring at Kirk, her chin up. She
was the one who had spoken.
She was clearly the one in charge of the Tautee
survivors. Even though she was built as slightly
as the man, Kirk would never mistake her for a
teenager. Her clothes were ripped and tattered and her
face and arms covered with dirt, yet she had the
bearing and strength of someone who had been in command a
long,
long time.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"You know what happened?" he asked.
The woman moved forward around the
railing and down until she stood in front of
Kirk as if he were her judge. He looked down
at her.
"My name is Prescott," she said in a full,
rich voice. "I caused all this destruction."
SIR, WE CANNOT TELL what they beamed
aboard.
KerDaq glared across the war-darkened
bridge at KobtaH. Bits of smoke still
filled the air from the ruined control panel near the
door. One of his officers had fallen into it during a
subspace wave. Although KerDaq's back had
been turned at the time, he doubted the damaged
panel was an accident. He
suspected that the officer had been pushed. He had
been rising too quickly, and KerDaq had been
favoring him of late.
Such favoritism always set the officer up for
attack. The officer who could defend himself was the
only officer who rose beyond his
station.
Which brought KerDaq back to the problem that
faced him now. "You cannot?" He asked his science
officer.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"No, sir."
KerDaq scowled. He should cut the man
into pieces like the planets of this system. How could
he not know if the humans had beamed their superweapon
aboard? How could such
incompetence exist?
Especially on his ship.
"What could you identify?" He deliberately
let his voice fill with sarcasm. "Are you even
certain that they transported something
aboard?"
"Yes, Commander," KobtaHave said. "They
staged several large beam-outs from the center of that
asteroid."
"Several?" KerDaq asked.
"Yes, Commander."
"You had several chances and still you do not know?"
"I assumed it was the superweapon, sir."
"You assumed. You assumed. You did not
check."
KobtaHave bared his teeth. He knew that
KerDaq was questioning his competence. If KerDaq
continued to do so, the man's position would soon be
available to someone more
competent.
The rest of the bridge crew turned to watch the
interchange.
"Did you?" KerDaq stood, fingers tight
against the palm of his hand, the spikes on his
gloves catching the dim light. "You did not
check."
"No, Commander. But something of that size, and taking
that many beam-outs, could only be the superweapon."
KerDaq took a step closer to KobtaH.
There 97
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
would be no way to check now. KobtaHave's
incompetence had cost them knowledge. "You had better
ask the protection of Kahless in case you are
wrong."
"I am not wrong, Commander," KobtaHave said.
KerDaq squinted at him. KobtaHave was
shorter, his ridges smoother, but he had power, and
connections. KerDaq was not ready to discard him yet.
Besides, he believed that for all of
KobtaHave's incompetence, KobtaHave was
correct.
What else could induce Kirk to travel into the
middle of those subspace waves? This story of
survivors was a faulty cover. No air-breathing
creature could survive a disaster of this magnitude.
KerDaq grunted and returned to his
command chair.
He swiveled it, and leaned forward, glad it was
raised, glad that it made him seem even more powerful
than he was. "So you believe they are ready
to leave with their weapon?"
"I don't think so, Supreme Commander."
KerDaq smiled. KobtaHave only used his
official title when he was worried about
KerDaq's reaction. They had served a long
time together and KerDaq had seen that pattern before.
"Upon what facts do you base your opinion?"
KobtaHave glanced around. The others were
watching him, waiting to see how KerDaq would
punish him for such disastrous errors.
KobtaHave stood alone. No one came to his
rescue, and no one would.
He straightened his shoulders, accepting his
potential fate like a good Klingon, and
took a deep 98
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
breath. "I base my opinion upon this, sir. The
subspace waves are still increasing in power."
"They are, huh?" KerDaq spoke as if he
had expected that answer. But he had not. KobtaHave
had surprised him. And KobtaHave had found one of the
few things that would convince anyone.
KerDaq's silence seemed to make KobtaHave
nervous. "At this rate of increase," KobtaHave
added, "this sun will be destroyed in a very few days at
most."
"And destroy the remaining evidence."
KerDaq growled.
He swiveled his chair back into position and
glared at the screen. On it, the debris from the
destroyed planets formed quarter circles around the
sun. The Federation ships looked small and evil
against that backdrop.
The Federation's trickery was suddenly very clear.
They had come here, tested their weapon, retrieved
what the information they needed from the test and then set the
superweapon to destroy the sun. And in the process
the weapon and all the evidence would also be destroyed.
Kirk had probably not beamed aboard
the weapon, but the data.
"Brilliant," KerDaq said to himself. This was
Federation trickery on an unparalleled scale.
And if they could destroy a remote star system like
Tautee in less than a week, then they could do the
same to the Klingon Empire[\*thorngg'or any
other system that offended them.
The Klingons needed the information on this weapon.
They needed to know how to defend 99
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
themselves, how to prevent any more
destruction of this kind.
"Inform the other commanders to follow my lead," he
said. "I want the Enterprise captured, not
destroyed."
"But Commander, they have[\*thorn]"
"They have information vital to the survival of the
Klingon Empire," KerDaq said. "We shall learn
it. All of it."
KobtaHave grinned.
The other officers growled their approval.
KerDaq gripped the arms of his chair and leaned
forward. "On my signal," he said, "we will
attack."
"Captain," Science Officer Richard Lee
said, his voice suddenly holding a bit of panic in
it. "The Klingons are powering up their weapons and
raising shields."
"Red alert," Bogle said. "Hail the
Enterprise."
As if Kirk wouldn't have noticed. Not likely,
but it was better to take no chances. He'd play this
one exactly by the book.
Bogle ran a hand through his thinning hair. Too
much had been happening too quickly. His bridge
crew, hunched over their consoles, could barely keep
track of things. He suspected Kirk's were the
same way.
Bogle believed in the Prime Directive,
believed in it more than he believed in any other
aspect of the Federation. Saving one hundred
survivors could be squeezed past the Prime
Directive, just barely.
But thousands, as Kirk had informed him might loo
TEIE RINGS OF TAUTEE
still be in those rocks, could not. And as much as it
bothered his conscience, he understood the reasons behind it.
Laws applied in difficult circumstances,
painful circumstances, as well as easy
ones. They could not save those survivors.
Yet Bogle knew Kirk. He knew Kirk
would search for a way around this. If Kirk found that
way, it had to be within Federation guidelines or
Bogle would not agree to it. In fact, he would be
forced to stop Kirk, and he didn't want that
situation to happen.
Then there was this business about the
expanding waves, expanding so far that they would threaten
the Federation's home systems. Bogle shook his
head. More than enough for any commander to consider.
He had been thinking about those things, not about the
Klingons.
"I have Captain Kirk, si r," Gustavus
said.
"Put him on screen." Bogle rested his arms
on his captain's chair and leaned toward the viewscreen. He wanted to look at ease, even though
he was not.
Kirk, on the other hand, looked tense. And as
if he were thriving on the increased adrenaline. Behind
him red lights flashed. The Enterprise was also on
red alert.
"Do you have any idea what they're up to?"
Bogle asked.
"Knowing the Klingons," Kirk said, "it could be
anything. And their timing is typical too. I've
been hailing them and they're not responding."
"Do you think I should try?" 101
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
Kirk shook his head. "If he's not responding
to me, he won't respond to you."
"What have we done?" Bogle asked.
"Maybe nothing," Kirk said. "Maybe we're
too close to something they're protecting."
"A weapon?" Bogle had hoped this
destruction wasn't caused by a superweapon.
He just didn't want to believe that was possible.
"Perhaps," Kirk said, "Or perhaps they've just
decided they don't like us anymore. We'll just have
to ride this one out."
Bogle nodded. "We'll guard your back."
"We'll do the same for you," Kirk said.
"Kirk out."
The screen went dark for half a second.
"Gustavus!" Bogle said. "I want to see
those Klingons."
"Aye, sir," she said. The screen came back
on, showing four grey Klingon battle
cruisers against the slowly growing Rings of Tautee.
"Sir," Lee said, "they're moving."
And as he spoke, the ships split apart from each
other, and moved into attack formation.
Bogle stood so quickly his chair spun. "Arm
photon torpedoes and phasers and stand ready."
Two of the cruisers peeled away and moved in a
quick arching circle high above the two starships.
"Those two are making a run at us," Lee said.
"Wait until they fire the first shot," Bogle
said. He didn't want to be accused of starting a
war between the Federation and the Klingons.
Even though his heart was racing, he felt quite
calm. Now that he knew what the
Klingons were up 102
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
to, he could counter. He might not have spent much
time with Klingons, but he knew how to fight them.
"Then return fire. Pattern Alpha."
He sat down in his command chair and
braced himself. The few long seconds before the
Klingon ships began firing seemed to
stretch into a lifetime. His lifetime and maybe many
others.
His ship rocked with the impact. His
officers, braced as they were, simply moved with the
ship. Hands moved so rapidly he could barely see
them. And then, across the darkened
screen, a volley of photon torpedoes
streaked red as they headed toward the two battle
cruisers.
The battle was engaged and Bogle didn't even
know what they were fighting about.
And he really doubted Jim Kirk did either.
All he knew was that if all the races and people in
this sector were to survive, including the Klingons, the
Federation had to win this fight.
And they had to win it fast.
PRESCOTT CLUNG T 0 the railing on the
balcony encircling the ship's command center. Her
fingers barely fit around the cool,
unfamiliar surface. Everything was big here, and
powerful, and noisy.
The pulsating red lights were accompanied by a
blare that the alien crew didn't seem to notice.
The ship rocked and bounced from
what she had first thought were subspace
waves, and gradually began to realize was
another ship firing upon them.
Her mind was overloaded, her body rigid with
shock. She was coasting along the surface of things
when actually everything she had ever believed was being
shattered, much as her own experiments had shattered her
home
She didn't doubt that now. Perhaps she could 104
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
accept it because she was here, in this magical place,
with these extraordinary aliens.
They looked Tauteean, but they were big like
giants from the ancient mythologies. The men had
twice the height and girth of Folle, but they
carried it well, with muscle not fat.
The women were large too, and muscular, as if they
could fight every bit as well as their men. And even though
they seemed to know her
language perfectly, they spoke it with varying
accents[\*thorn] some musical, as in the case
of the man who had brought them to the Enterprise, and some
harsh, like Dr. Leonard McCoy's.
Somehow she preferred Dr. Leonard
McCoy's accent.
He was standing on one side of her, clutching the
rail too. Only his long fingers wrapped
around it, and he moved with the rhythm of the ship as if he
had been born to it.
The others did as well, and she wondered where they
had been born, how they came here, and what they
were. They didn't seem to belong to the same race.
The rail-thin man with the greenish skin seemed
particularly unusual. His ears, his eyebrows, and
his skin tone marked him as different, but his attitude
was what made him seem especially alien. While
the other members of the crew rocked and worked and
muttered to themselves, he kept his balance and his
composure.
Prescott watched them all, feeling absurdly
detached. It was as if her mind had separated from her
body. After all the misery she had felt on the
destroyed moon, it felt odd not to feel anything
at 105
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
all. Her scientific brain told her that she
felt nothing because she had already given herself up for
dead. When that explanation felt lame, her brain
told her that she felt nothing because she was in shock.
But deep down, she actually believed she felt
nothing because she had already lost everything of
meaning. Losing her life was just a detail, and a
minor one at that.
Folle stood on her other side, looking as
numb as she felt. He was having trouble
keeping his balance. As the ship rocked, he
occasionally slammed into her, muttering an apology every
time. Finally she picked up one hand and placed it on
his. Dr. Leonard McCoy watched the movement
with interest.
No one else was looking at them.
Captain James Kirk had taken what
appeared to be his normal seat in the middle of the command
center, his attention never wavering from the huge screen
in front of his two crew.
The screen showed space. She recognized the
growing rings, the distant sun, and the remains of the
Tautee system. Her home. But smack in the
middle of the screen were two grey ships shaped like
Ne Lizards, with large heads, sleek backs, and
wings. These, apparently, were the enemy, the
Cling-Ons.
She wondered at the name, and hoped it
wasn't some type of attack. It would make them
even more like the Ne Lizards; once they
contacted the skin, they stuck.
Another ship was flanked by two grey vessels.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
The other ship, which looked like a saucer with a tail,
was apparently Captain James Kirk's ally,
Farragut.
So much information, so much was
happening, and she had no real way to make sense
of it all.
But she did know that the red streaks that appeared on
the screen were the weapons. She learned that by watching
one streak toward the screen. A second later, the
ship rocked with impact.
"Shields holding, sir," the large man with the
almost indecipherable accent said.
"Return fire, Mister Chekov," Captain
James Kirk said.
Streaks of light seemed to originate beyond the
screen. They grew smaller as they headed toward the
grey vessels, then exploded in orange balls
near the vessels' sides.
"Direct hit," Mister Chekov said, balling
his fist.
"Continue firing." Captain James Kirk
looked as if he were fighting the fight with his
bare hands. He moved constantly, leaning forward,
leaning back, watching each member of his crew. At
the moment, he swiveled his chair, and looked at the
greenish man. "How's the Farragut doing?
"They are firing upon two of the cruisers," the
greenish man said. He sounded as calm as he
looked. "They do not seem to have sustained any
damage."
"Good." Captain James Kirk stood and
stepped away from his chair. He stopped behind the
other large man, who had stared at the screen
continually. "Mister Sulu, take us directly at
KerDaq's ship."
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
"Aye, sir." Mister Sulu had a deep
soothing voice. Of all the alien crew, he was the
only one who sounded the most Tauteean.
Prescott could not feel the ship turn, but the
view on screen changed, sweeping away from the
grey vessels, and then suddenly toward one.
Bursts of red fire appeared against the darkness of
space.
Dr. Leonard McCoy's grip
tightened on the railing. He had been making small
snorting noises, disapproving noises, for some time
now. Finally, as the ship appeared to bear down on the
grey vessel, he muttered, "This is just plain
stupid."
Captain James K irk whirled. "You have an
opinion, Bones?"
"I always have an opinion, Jim," Dr.
Leonard McCoy said. "I think we're getting
a little sidetracked here."
"We didn't start this, Bones." Captain
James Kirk sounded testy.
"Well, I wish we'd hurry up and end it."
"So do I, Bones." the captain said. He
turned back to stare at the screen.
The two ships seemed to pass within touching distance of
each other on the screen, and again the Enterprise was
rocked as enemy fire
pounded it. Prescott could not imagine the force and
strength of these ships and these weapons. Races that could
travel between the stars like this must obviously have very, very
powerful weapons.
"Captain," Mister Chekov said, "the shields
are at eighty percent."
"Captain," the green-skinned man said
without 108
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
giving Captain James Kirk a chance
to respond to Mister Chekov, "we have a very strong
subspace wave in fifty seconds. With our
weakened shields, we will feel this blast more
intensely than we did the oth ers."
"Are we in danger, Mister Spock?"
Captain James Kirk asked.
"Are you referring to the shields, the
Klingons, the subspace wave, or all three,
Captain?"
"A simple yes or no would have done fine,
Spock," Dr. Leonard McCoy said.
"Doctor," the greenish
man[\*thorngg'Spock? one
name only"...[\*thorn)'sd, "in order to answer
an
inquiry precisely it is necessary
to understand[\*thorn]"
"The shields and the wave, Spock," Captain
James Kirk snapped. "Yes or no?"
"Of course, Captain," Spock said. "A
wave of that intensity combined with lower shields
would[\*thorn]"
"Shields at seventy percent," Mister
Chekov said, his voice holding an edge of worry
that even Prescott could hear. She thought it
ironic. Rescued from certain death only to be
killed with her rescuers in a war she didn't even
understand.
More blasts rocked the ship. It felt as if
Prescott's fingers had dug grooves into the odd
material of the rail.
"Spock." Captain James Kirk bounded up
the stairs, stopping just behind Prescott. "Is the
subspace wave coming directly out of the debris
from the ninth planet?"
"Yes, Captain," Spock said as if they were
dis109
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
cussing lunch. "I suggest we ride with the wave
again to reduce the strain on our weakened shields."
They were operating on a level that was so far above
Prescott that she felt like a child around adults. The
height difference didn't help. They thought they could
ride out these waves of destruction, survive them with
minimal damage. That concept alone startled her to the
very core of her being. These waves had
destroyed her homeworld and every planet in her system.
How could this ship just ride them and escape damage?
What amazing power these aliens had.
Captain James Kirk nodded. His energy was
infectious. Prescott could feel it beside her like a
barely contained fusion reaction.
""Let's do this as we did it in the debris
field," Captain James Kirk said. "Mister
Spock, send the coordinates to Sulu's screen.
But before you lay in Spock's course, Sulu, I
want you to plot a course directly at the ninth
planet and
immediately engage at one-sixth impulse. Be
prepared to reverse course and follow Mister
Spock's directions on my mark."
"Aye, sir," Mister Sulu said.
Prescott had no idea what Captain
James Kirk was planning, but obviously the crew
did and they followed his directions without question. The
man was clearly a very powerful and
trusted leader.
Dr. Leonard McCoy just stood beside her,
shaking his head. He hadn't let go of the railing either.
She wondered if part of his impatience was due to his
position in the command center. He had said he
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
only wanted to make a quick stop here on the way
to sickbay where, he said, more wounded waited for him.
Was that the sidetrack?
She wasn't sure. She wasn't even sure
why these people sometimes used three names and sometimes used
only one. She wasn't sure about anything
anymore.
"Mister Chekov?" Captain James Kirk
asked. Prescott didn't understand the question.
Mister Chekov nodded. "The Klingons are
turning and following us."
Captain James Kirk smiled and sank
into his command chair. He gripped the arms as if they
were an extension of his own body.
"Fifteen seconds," Spock said.
"On my mark, Mister Sulu."
Mister Sulu nodded.
It seemed to Prescott that the entire alien
crew was holding its breath.
The seconds stretched.
Even she found herself holding her breath, and she
didn't know what they were doing. Or why.
Folle glanced at her, his eyes
wide. His fingers were cold beneath hers.
"Now, Mister Sulu," Captain James
Kirk said. "Reverse course."
"Five seconds," Spock said.
"Brace yourselves," Captain James Kirk
shouted.
On the screen the two enemy ships Dashed past
just as the ship was hit with a rocking, tumbling, crashing
sound. Prescott lost her grip on the rail
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
and tumbled back against the wall. The jolt shuddered
through her spine. She rolled with the force and came up
sitting in time to see Folle slam against the wall
beside her. He grunted audibly and then turned
blue.
Two of the crew were also tossed from their seats, and in
the back of Prescott's mind she wondered why, with
such advance technology, they didn't have something as
simple as seat belts.
Then the shaking and roaring stopped.
McCoy, who had managed to remain
standing, quickly moved over and began
examining Folle, all the while
muttering to himself about all this being stupid.
"Damage reports on decks four, five, and
seven," the large woman in the tiny red dress said
as she held her hand to her ear. Her voice seemed
level and almost calm.
"Shields are down to fifty percent, but they are
still holding," Mister Chekov said.
"All stop," Captain James Kirk
ordered.
Prescott felt the ship stop moving. It jerked
noticeably, and she frowned. She hadn't thought such
maneuvers were possible in space.
Captain James Kirk turned to Spock.
"Did our friends make it?"
Spock stared into his scope for a moment, then
spoke without looking up. "Both vessels have
sustained heavy damage. KerDaq's ship has the
most amount of damage. The second ship has no
power."
"And Kelly's ship?"
Spock again spoke without looking up. "The 112
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Farragut, possibly combined with that last wave,
has inflicted heavy damage on a third ship.
The remaining Klingon ship is moving to aid
the other ship. All hostilities have stopped.
Captain . . ."
Spock's voice trailed off as if he were
studying his scope harder than normal. Then he
continued, his voice level. "KerDaq's ship will
sustain a core breach in less than a minute."
Without understanding what the words meant, even
Prescott understood the implications of Spock's
words. The crew on KerDaq's ship
would soon die. And if she had understood
correctly, none of the other enemy ships could help
them.
She pushed herself upright. Even though she had never
seen KerDaq, even though she knew nothing about his
people, her heart went out to him. She had been in that
position just a few hours ago.
Captain James Kirk punched a button on
his chair without hesitation. "Transporter room.
I want emergency beam-out of all personnel on
the Klingon flagship. Security to transporter
room on the double."
"Klingons, too, Jim?" Dr. Leonard
McCoy asked. "Don't you think the ship's a
bit crowded already?"
"Trust me, Bones." Captain
James Kirk stood. Prescott had never seen
such a restless man. He glanced at Spock and then
grinned. Spock remained stoic, but raised a
single eyebrow. The movement had the same effect as
a smile.
Captain James Kirk laughed and turned
back to the screen. Prescott followed his gaze.
The two green vessels floated at odd
angles,
obviously dambleaac
Dean Wesiey Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
aged. Suddenly the one on the right seemed
to collapse in on itself Then it exploded in a bright
flash of orange and red.
"We got them all, sir," said a tinny
disembodied voice.
Captain James Kirk punched the comm
button again. "Good work. Escort Commander
KerDaq to the bridge. We have a few matters
to discuss."
"Aye, sir," the tinny voice said.
Captain James Kirk then turned to Dr.
Leonard McCoy and smiled. "Well,
Bones, did I end that fast enough for you"?"
Prescott glanced at McCoy.
McCoy snorted and kept working on Folle.
"It would have been better not happening at all."
"I agree," Captain James Kirk said.
Then the captain turned and focused on
Prescott where she leaned against the wall. "It
seems we have a few minutes now," he said.
Beside her Folle moaned and McCoy helped him
sit up.
Quickly, under his intense gaze, she
scrambled to her feet and stepped forward. "I am
Prescott, the leader of the group you
rescued."
Kirk stood and bowed slightly. His gaze
perused her, all of her, as if he were trying
to assess all the differences between them in a single
glance. "Captain James T. Kirk of the
U.s.s. Enterprise," he said. "Pleased to have
you aboard."
She was stunned at how nice he seemed.
After just fighting two enemy ships, he suddenly
seemed warm and friendly.
1 1 4
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Beside her McCoy stood. "She
claims to be responsible for the destruction of this
system."
"I heard her earlier, Bones," Captain
James Kirk said, the warmth in his voice like a
caress. Prescott put her hands behind her back.
This man was as dangerous as he was unpredictable.
And powerful. Very powerful.
"I simply don't believe it," he said.
She straightened her back, wishing for the first time in
her life that she was taller. "Believe it," she
said. "I destroyed the system. And if you give me
a chance, I'll tell you how."
"And why," Captain James Kirk asked,
"would you destroy your own system?"
"It was an accident." Her voice trembled and
she forced herself to keep it level.
Everyone in the ship's command center
stared at her.
And for the longest time no one said a word.
1 1 5
KIRK FELT HIMSELF FREEZE.
All the energy and excitement of the last few
moments faded as he realized not just what the frail
Tauteean woman had said, but what it
meant.
She believed she had destroyed her entire
race.
A shiver ran down his back. Whether or not she
was right, he had to listen to her.
Spock had swiveled in his chair and was staring at
her. Uhura took her hand away from her ear, her
wide brown eyes soft with
compassion. Sulu turned, mouth open. McCoy
took a step forward, reached for the
woman[\*thorngg'Prescott[\*thorngg'b
let his hand fall a few inches away from her.
The Tauteean on the floor was breathin g in deep
shuddery breaths. He put a hand on the wall, and
1 1 6
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
propelled himself upward, as if her words meant more
than his pain.
"Prescott," he said, his voice shadowy with
lack of oxygen.
"It's all right, Folle," she said, without even
turning around.
Kirk frowned. He had been so convinced that the
Klingons had caused this with a
superweapon[\*thorn] and he still
wasn't willing to rule that possibility out. But the
possibility had diminished greatly, and he didn't
need Spock's gift with percentages to tell him just
how much.
But that didn't solve the problem from the other
side. The Klingons had accused him of using a
special weapon. He had thought it a cover for their
own behavior, but what if they were both wrong, and this
Prescott was right?
Kirk couldn't examine her evidence alone. He
needed the Klingons here as well.
"Captain James Kirk," she said. "I will
give you the answers you've been seeking."
He nodded, feeling a bit offbalance from the new
direction the conversation had gone.
"Before you tell me," he said, "there's someone
else who needs to hear this story. Let's wait
until he gets here."
As if on cue the door to the turbolift whisked
open and KerDaq emerged, flanked on both
sides by security men. Next to the Tauteeans,
KerDaq looked like a giant. He towered over
Kirk. Prescott only came to his beltline.
KerDaq brushed her aside as he strode across
the bridge, his gaze, fierce under his
abnormally pronounced brow ridges, only on
Kirk.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
Kirk held KerDaq's gaze. Klingons
bullied anyone weaker and they respected strength.
Kirk could play the game, better than KerDaq
would ever know.
"Why didn't you let us die in battle, like
warriors?" KerDaq demanded, his voice full
and angry. It rumbled through the bridge as if the
Enterprise were too small to hold a Klingon
presence.
Kirk noticed that Prescott stepped back,
shocked, and almost afraid at the appearance of the
huge, rough Klingon. Tauteean features were very
similar to human features. She had been staring at
Spock as if she had never seen anything like him. A
Klingon must have seemed like something out of a nightmare.
"Your death would have served no purpose," Kirk
said, keeping his voice loud and firm and strong. "I
would have loved to blow your ship from space, but this time I
can't claim credit for the explosion. The subspace
wave destroyed your ship, not the
Enterprise."
"I know that, Kirk." KerDaq moved one step
closer to Kirk. "You lured us into a trap."
KerDaq spat out the words.
Kirk resisted the urge to wipe the saliva from his
face. Instead Kirk laughed. The laugh sounded
forced and calculated to him, but KerDaq wouldn't know
the difference.
KerDaq glowered.
Kirk's laugh became real. He had never
induced that disgruntled an expression in a
Klingon before. "You may be right about that."
He pushed past KerDaq, brushing hard against
KerDaq's shoulder, 118
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
spinning the Klingon slightly around. Kirk knew
KerDaq wouldn't attack him, at least not at the
moment. Klingons were brutal and fearless warriors,
but they were also smart. KerDaq would listen.
He had no other choice.
"This is Prescott," Kirk said, stopping near
the small, thin woman, yet turning to face the
Klingon. "She is a member of the race that
inhabited this system."
"I do not care, Kirk. What has
happened is between you and me."
"No," Kirk said, glaring at KerDaq. "It
is not."
He put his hand on Prescott's shoulder and was
surprised to feel her flinch. Her bones were
fragile and his hand heavy. He hoped he hadn't
hurt her. Then she smiled at him, bravely, as
if she was trying to overcome fear.
"Kirk," KerDaq said.
Kirk held up his free hand for silence.
KerDaq remained quiet and for the first time Kirk was
thankful for a reasonable Klingon.
Then Kirk bent toward Prescott. "I want
Ker-Daq to hear what you have to say. Please,
tell us what you said earlier, and explain how it all
happened."
Prescott licked her thin lips. Her gaze
darted from Kirk to the Klingon to McCoy before
resting on Kirk again. She looked almost
frightened, as if she were in a situation her brain
couldn't completely fathom. Kirk couldn't even
imagine being in her shoes.
She took a deep breath, then glanced around at
Folle, who nodded. When she turned back
to Kirk, 1 1 9
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
she seemed stronger and there was a light in her
eyes.
"We had hoped to supply all our people with
unlimited power," she said. "Our experiment was
based on the largest moon of the ninth planet. It was
the first to break up."
"This means nothing," KerDaq said, almost spitting
on the floor in disgust.
"You are on my ship, KerDaq. You will listen
to Prescott."
KerDaq crossed his meaty arms over his
chest, but he said nothing more.
Spock, however, hadn't taken his gaze off
Prescott. He stood slowly and approached her,
as if she had said something that resonated for him.
"What type of energy experiments were you conducting?"
A slight tremble ran through Prescott. Kirk
could feel it underneath his palm. Spock made her
uncomfortable, but she gave no outward sign of it.
Instead she met his gaze like an equal. "We
created a fusion reaction in the center of the moon,
contained by a magnetic shield and the moon's
natural crust."
Spock glanced at Kirk and then back at
Prescott. Kirk knew exactly what he was
thinking. Such an idea had been tried
successfully in hundreds of systems throughout known
space. It would not have had the power to break apart the
moon, let alone the entire system.
KerDaq snorted in disgust and then said, "We
tried such things a thousand years ago and we did not
destroy our system."
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"Yes," Spock said, ignoring KerDaq.
"Fusion power is a tried and reliable power source
for many pre-warp cultures."
"Pre-warp?" Prescott's friend, Folle,
asked.
"It's a term for cultures at your level of
advancement," McCoy said. Then he raised his head
slightly, giving the Klingon a sideways glance,
of a kind that always made Kirk wary. "So you think,
Prescott, that your experiments had something to do with this
destruction."
She shook her head. "I don't think it, Dr.
Leonard McCoy. I know it."
"A runaway fusion reaction could not
cause this kind of destruction." KerDaq said.
"Any child knows that is not possible."
"Let her finish, KerDaq," Kirk snapped.
Prescott moved out from under Kirk's hand. She
moved into the center of the upper deck, as far from the
others as she could get. It was as if this subject was
so painful, she could not take in anyone else's
presence, anyone else's warmth.
Kirk let her move away. "Prescott,"
he said softly, carefully, unwilling to let the
moment pass. "A runaway fusion reaction might
have destroyed the moon, but nothing more. There was no
method that could have spread a fusion reaction through
space."
Prescott wrapped her arms around herself as if
she didn't hear him. Folle walked up behind her.
She stepped away from him. "Prescott," he said,
"we didn't do it. Just like I told you."
She shook her head.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
Spock's attention hadn't wavered from her. "The
destruction is, however, centered on the location of the
ninth planet. We rescued you from a base
inside the moon of the fifth planet. What were you
doing there?"
"Our base was the control central," Prescott
said. "The first energy was to be projected to our moon.
From there it would have been
distributed throughout the system."
"Projected?" Kirk repeated. Suddenly he
knew what had happened. He glanced at Spock,
who looked almost visibly shaken. Spock knew
too.
KerDaq took a step toward Prescott. "You
pros jected it?" Even KerDaq had guessed
what was coming next.
Kirk put up a hand for KerDaq to stop and he
did.
Prescott held her ground, even though her
eyes looked like those of a stunned deer. Color
rose in her cheeks. Folle stood behind her like a
pillar, giving her support.
Kirk swallowed. "What method," he asked
slowly, "were you planning to use to project the
energy?"
Prescott turned to Folle, who stepped
forward. Kirk knew instantly that it had been
Prescott who was behind the fusion power
idea. But it was Folle who championed the method
of transportation to get the energy to the inner
planets.
"A form of microwave transmission," he said.
He held his head high and there was no
evidence of shame in his posture. He still didn't
understand what had gone wrong. Nor did he accept
the blame. 122
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
What had he said a moment ago? Prescott,
we didn't do it. Just like I told you.
Just like I told you.
She had known all along and believed she had
caused the death of all her people.
Kirk felt a wave of compassion run through him,
despite all the destruction. She had lived for
weeks with the knowledge that she had destroyed her people, and everyone
around her had denied it. Denied it all.
"Microwave transmissions cannot carry or
contain the power you would have received from such a fusion
reaction," Spock said. "How did you solve the
problem of containment?"
Folle frowned as if something in the tone of
Spock's question bothered him. "We created a
feedback loop, using part of the power of the
beam itself to contain it."
KerDaq spit out, "Fools!"
Two dots of color appeared on Folle's
cheek, but if Kirk were to wager on the cause, he
would guess that Folle was angry at the
accusation, not at feeling as if he were the cause.
But Prescott's gaze met Kirk's. "I
know something went wrong. What was it?"
"Spock," Kirk said, indicating that he should
exp lain.
"Your idea for energy was sound, but your delivery
system was flawed," Spock said. "A microwave
carrier beam is not a container. It is a strainer
filled with water. Instead of carrying the water from one
place to another, it runs out through the thousand holes that
compose the strainer. Or in your case, 123
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
your beam dripped power. It lost more power than it
carried."
Folle's frown deepened. But Prescott
looked vaguely relieved, as if knowing what had
gone wrong helped her somehow.
"And that caused the destruction?" she asked.
"By creating a feedback wave from the lost
power, you created a loop within the
containment field." Spock was still explaining. He
seemed to believe she needed the in-depth understanding as
well as the short answers. "The loop became far
more powerful than the energy it contained."
"We knew that would happen," Folle said. "We
had a method of draining the containment field at the
receiving end."
KerDaq snorted. "Such stupidity should be re-warded with death."
"It has been," McCoy said softly.
Kirk shivered.
And for a moment the bridge was deadly silent.
Kirk was getting a clear picture of the problem.
It was nice to know the cause, but that wasn't enough.
The magnitude of the
destruction terrified him, and he still didn't
understand why it was increasing.
Spock ignored KerDaq and McCoy and went
on. "The containment field would never reach the
destination. It would instantaneously feed back down
into the power source itself the moment the beam was turned
on."
"Setting up a feedback loop inside a fusion
reaction," Kirk said.
TFIE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"In essence," Spock said, "melting a hole
through known space and into subspace."
"A hole that sends out destructive waves of
subspace interference," KerDaq said. "Waves that
destroyed my ship."
"A hole," Kirk said, "that we somehow have
to close."
THE EMERGENCY BACKUP SYSTEMS
had kicked in.
Captain Bogle liked the darkness. It
reinforced the sense of urgency, and his crew always
worked well when things were tough. He had diverted the
main power to the shields in the last skirmish with the
Klingons, but even that was failing.
The red-alert lights were blinking in the background, bathing the bridge in rotating red. The eerie
color made his officers look as if they were
bleeding, something that no one seemed to notice but him.
Bogle would have disconnected the red-alert lights
if he could have.
But he couldn't. It seemed they were as
essential to a starship as air.
On the screen before him the remaining
opera
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
tional Klingon ship hung silent and deadly,
its green looking sick and pale against the livid red
of the bridge.
"Our shields are at forty percent," Science
Officer Lee said. "Not enough to withstand the coming subspace
wave."
Bogle clenched his fists. The Klingons had
targeted his shields. They had recognised that
weakness and had gone for it. If he couldn't get more
power to the shields, the Klingons would succeed in
destroying the Farragut.
"How long do we have?" Bogle demanded.
"Two minutes," Lee said.
Bogle punched his intercom button to get his
chief of engineering. "Projeff, we need more power
to the shields."
"I've already diverted everything I can think of."
Bogle could tell from Pro's voice that he knew
the importance of the problem.
"Well, divert everything else.
Including the damn red-alert lights."
"Aye, sir." Bogle thought he heard a
chuckle in Projeff's voice. Pro knew how
much Bogle hated those lights.
"Good," Bogle said. "Boyle out."
Four members of his bridge crew were
attempting to divert power as well. Those shields
were crucial, especially since the wave strength was
increasing for reasons none of them could yet figure
out.
And, beneath it all, he was worried that the Klingons
would attack again just as the wave hit, when the
Farragut would be at her most vulnerable.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
Bogle swiveled his chair.
Lee was hunched over his science console,
monitoring everything. He didn't know what he'd do
without Lee.
"What's the status of the Enterprise?" Bogle
asked.
"They seem to have taken very little damage," Lee
said, shaking his head in disbelief.
Bogle shook his head, too. He
didn't know how Kirk managed it. If Bogle
were to lay odds, he would guess that Kirk would be the
only officer in the fleet to retire without losing a
ship. If he didn't get tossed out first for
breaking rules.
The red-alert lights shut off, leaving the bridge
in near darkness. Bogle blinked, grinning to himself.
Nice going, Proje
"Sir," Gustavus said, "the Enterprise is
hailing us."
"And sir," Lee said, "that Klingon ship off our
bow is powering up."
"Wonderful," Bogle said. Just as he had predicted. The Klingons would attack when the wave
hit. He hoped Pro repaired those shields in
time. "Put the Enterprise on screen."
The screen flickered and then an image filled
it. Bogle resisted the urge to rub his eyes. The
Klingon commander stood beside Kirk, looking as at
ease on the bridge of the Enterprise as her own
captain did. A tiny woman stood beside them. The
men dwarfed her and yet she seemed to belong in their
company.
"Captain," Kirk said, a slight smile
crossing his face. He knew what
impact he was having and it 128
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
was clear he was enjoying it. "I'd like to introduce
you to Commander KerDaq." Kirk
indicated the Klingon standing beside him on-screen.
KerDaq nodded, but said nothing.
Kirk's smile disappeared. Bogle saw the
determination in Kirk's eyes. Even though
Kirk gave the appearance of enjoying things, he
knew how serious the situation was.
For all of them.
"I understand you're having shield problems,"
Kirk said. "Mister Spock is sending a heading and
timing so that you will be able to run with the coming subspace
wave to reduce its impact."
"Understood," Bogle said.
"As do I," KerDaq said. "Now I must warn
my ships."
Kirk nodded. "Kirk out."
The screen went dark and then came back
with the picture of the Klingon battle cruiser off
their bow.
Bogle sat staring, not totally understanding what he'd
just seen. Kirk and the Klingons working together. And behind
them a woman had been standing silently.
An alien woman.
An obvious Tauteean survivor.
"I have the heading and coordinates," Lee said.
"We have fifty seconds."
"Transfer them to navigation and be ready
to initiate on the correct timing." Bogle
turned to Lee. "Mister, I want a double check
on those calculations within twenty seconds or
we're going to jump to warp to outrun the subspace
wave. I 129
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
won't take any chances with this crew and this ship."
"Working, sir," Lee said.
Fifty seconds to repair the shields and
to hold on. Bogle let out his breath. At least the
Klingon attack he had been expecting probably
wouldn't come. Not if KerDaq was on the
bridge of the Enterprise.
"They are correct, sir," Lee said, and he
actually sounded confident. Bogle couldn't see his
face in the dimness, and didn't know if Lee's
tone was a sign of true confidence or not.
"Explain," Bogle said.
"If we follow the course and speed
given to us by the Enterprise, the impact of the
subspace wave will be reduced by almost sixty
percent. With our shields at sixty percent, we will
sustain no damage."
"Understood," Bogle said. "Stand by."
"Captain," Rodriguez said. "Our shields
are now at seventy percent."
Bogle grinned to himself in the darkness of the bridge.
He knew those red-alert lights were wasted energy.
"Good work, Pro," he muttered.
"Follow the Enterprise instructions, Mister
Lee."
"Yes, sir," Lee said. "Mister
Rodriguez, I want you to go to one-fifth
impulse on my mark."
On the screen the Klingon ship was turning and
aiming itself in the same direction they were heading.
Bogle shook his head. How Kirk did it,
Bogle would never know.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"Now, Rodriguez!" Lee said. "Impact in
five seconds."
Bogle held on as his starship surfed a
destructive wave.
Off the port side of the Farragut a Klingon
battle cruiser did the same thing.
McCoally WAS STARTING to measure time
with the Enterprise's collisions with the shock waves.
After Prescott made her revelation, he had
left the bridge. He had arrived in sickbay when
the next shock wave hit. Then a complement of
crew members arrived, sporting minor bruises.
He had Nurse Chapel tend to them while he
mended the broken Tauteean bones, and
cleaned the gangrenous wounds.
Then the next shock wave hit. He didn't
really notice it, only its effects. He
treated all the minor bruises and had time to help the
Klingon doctor treat a seriously injured
Klingon who had been burned in the fight.
The only benefit he could see to the waves was that
the influx of battered crew members always 132
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
brought new information The Farragut and the Klingon
vessels made it through the waves; Captain Kirk
and the Klingon were working side by side; Mr. Spock,
in what seemed like
exasperation, asked that the Farragut's science
officer join them in an attempt to close the rift.
The ensign who had imparted the last bit of information
had seemed surprised that Spock would be
exasperated. McCoy, on the other hand, felt no
such surprise. He had known Spock for years, and
it had always seemed as if their relationship had been
based on
exasperation[\*thorngg'on both sides.
The waves continued, but the crew was finally catching
on. During the last wave, only a few bruises
had arrived. Nurse Chapel could ha ndle them.
McCoy wanted to be on the bridge. He told
himself he wanted to contribute to the discussions, to see
if he could provide some solution to closing the
rift. But the truth was that he wanted to see
Prescott.
He arrived to find the bridge crowded.
Kirk, Scotty, and KerDaq circled the
science station behind Spock.
Uhura was monitoring communications, Sulu and
Chekov were conferring on ways to better "surf" the
wave, but Prescott was nowhere to be seen.
McCoy walked closer to the duster of people around the
science station. Prescott was seated beside
Spock, her tiny hands stretched over the console.
Another science officer, recognisable by his blue
uniform, sat on Spock's other side.
Appar133
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch entry the Farragut's science of
ficer[\*thorngg'Lee, if McCoy
remembered his name
correctly[\*thorngg'was a big redheaded
man who had a joviality that made Spock seem
positively morose.
It was very clear to McCoy that they had made no
headway at all.
McCoy stopped beside Kirk. The captain
moved aside for him, and McCoy stared down at
the computer screens, the scope, and the buttons that
marked the tools of Spock's trade. Prescott
glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled. It was
an absent smile[\*thorngg'her mind was clearly
elsewhere[\*thorn] but it warmed him all the same.
Spock looked up from his scope. "The
subspace waves are gaining in intensity, and the
rift is widening."
"How long do we have?" Kirk asked.
"Not long," Lee said. His voice was
deep. McCoy glanced at him in surprise.
Spock would never have been satisfied with such a
vague answer.
"I agree," Spock said. And then he gave the
correction McCoy had been expecting. "If we
do not find a solution within two hours and ten
minutes, no starship will be able to approach the rift.
We will be unable to close it."
Prescott leaned back. McCoy could feel the
warmth of her skin against his leg. "I don't understand.
There has to be a source for all this power causing the
waves. Can't we just shut down the source? Maybe
destroy it?"
KerDaq snorted and rolled his eyes. McCoy
never realized that the Klingons could be so expressive
without saying a single word.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
of the rift that Spock had called up earlier.
"We could easily work toward the center of the rift,
closing and[\*thorn]"
"I have to concur with Commander KerDaq," Spock
said. "The moment the warp signatures expanded
to cover the tear in the universe, both ships would be
destroyed. We would, in
essence, be creating a feedback loop similar
to the original."
"At least the Vulcan has some sense,"
KerDaq said.
But the others ignored him. Prescott studied the
diagram of the rift as if it could expand her
scientific knowledge overnight. Lee and Scotty
looked at each other, their minds obviously
whirling. Then Scotty grabbed a chair and slid it
beside the engineering console.
"There has to be a way," he said.
"The doctor might have had the right metaphor,"
Spock said. "But this is a wound caused by a burning
hole in space. It would seem to me that instead of
stitching the wound closed, we would need to cauterise
it."
"You don't cauterise burns, Spock,"
McCoy said.
"We are speaking in metaphors, Doctor,"
Spock said. "We would be closing the wound in the
same manner in which it was created."
McCoy was about to protest when he noticed the
others around him. Lee and Scotty were frowning,
deep in thought. KerDaq no longer looked so
disgruntled either.
"It might work," Lee said, softly.
"Aye, lad," Scotty said. "It just might."
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
McCoy shook his head. It was as if both men were
reading each other's mind.
"Would someone please explain the idea to me?"
Kirk said, moving around the rail and back down near
his chair.
"Captain," Spock said, "if we, along with the
Farrag"...lt and two of the Klingon vessels, were
to fire full phasers at the rift as a wave
began, we would set up a feedback loop between the
wave and the ships."
"Increasing the power of the wave," Scotty said.
"And turning the wave back on itself," Lee
finished.
Spock nodded. "Effectively closing the rift
in space."
"Electively, Mister Spock?" Kirk
asked.
"I don't think it matters how we do it,
Jim," McCoy said, not sure if he understood the
concept either, "just that the rift gets
closed."
"My ships will help with such a solution," KerDaq said, his voice full and firm, as if the
decision was now made.
McCoy glanced at the Klingon. His arms were still
crossed over his chest, but he looked less threatening
suddenly, as if the solution had calmed something within
him.
"Captain," Spock said, swiveling on his
chair, and nearly knocking Prescott aside.
McCoy put a hand on her back to steady her.
"There is a problem."
"Of course," Kirk said, taking a deep
breath. "Isn't there always?"
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Rather like human teenagers.
Science Officer Lee shook his head as if he
couldn't believe her stupidity. Spock ignored
her.
But Scotty looked at her with compassion.
"There is a source, lass," he said. "The
universe is like a person's body. A
person[\*thorn]" He glanced at KerDaq.
"[\*thorngg'well, a human at any
rate, has a heart that is the main source of power
within the body. The universe has a heart, for lack
of a better word, an energy source that keeps the
universe running. Your fusion reaction tapped that
source of universal power. The problem you gave us,
though, is that there is now a hole between universes,
allowing the power of Universe A to spill over
into Universe B at an ever-increasing rate. We
just happen to be in Universe B."
The analogy wasn't as precise as Scotty
had thought it was, but it still set mental bells ringing
for McCoy. He had never pictured the universe
like a being, with a heart and lungs, and all. If he
tried to stretch the analogy, it failed. But when he
first pictured it, he got an image.
And an idea.
"Jim," McCoy said, stepping forward. "What
Scotty is saying, if I hear this right, is that this
hole in space is very much like a bleeding cut on a
human?"
"The analogy is, in fact, faulty,"
Spock said, "because a human does not bleed into
another[\*thorn]"
"Give him a minute, Spock," Kirk said.
"You have an idea, Bones?"
McCoy nodded. He could feel the excitement
of a new[\*thorngg'correct[\*thorn)'.covery
welling within him. 135
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
"When a patient has a cut, you don't close
the entire thing at once. You work from the sides,
stopping the expansion and closing it slowly."
Spock tilted his head, and gazed at a spot
between all of them. McCoy knew that look.
Spock was deep in thought.
"You close it from the ends," Scotty said.
"Not from the middle," Lee said almost
simultaneously.
"We could be[\*thorn]"
"[\*thorngg'farther away[\*thorn]"
"[\*thorngg'and still close[\*thorn]"
"Gentlemen?" Kirk said, obviously hoping
to stop the cacophony. The two men were clearly
speaking the same language, but no one else could
understand the subtext. They had an idea and it seemed
to match.
"Captain," Scotty said, his dark eyes
alight with the beauty of his idea. "If we can get
close enough we could expand our warp shields
out over a corner of the rip."
"The Farragut could do the same," Lee said,
"on the other side, at the same time."
Spock tilted his head the other way, as if he
were picturing it all. Then his gaze met Kirk's.
"That would effectively let the covered area seal
itself," Spock said.
"And both ships would implode," KerDaq
said, from behind them, making McCoy jump. "I will
not participate in such a foolhardy mission with
Klingon ships."
Scotty leaned forward, put his hand on the
console, and touched the two-dimensional
image 136
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
McCoy almost laughed. Kirk was right. Solu-tions never seemed to come easy with this crew. If the
time wasn't short, then the solution was impossible.
He couldn't begin to remember how many times this crew
had made the impossible happen.
Spock continued as if Kirk hadn't even
spoken. "The resulting closure of the rift will be
sudden. It will send out a final subspace wave of
approximately two hundred times the
destructive power we are currently
experiencing."
"That's not a problem, Mister Spock,"
Scotty said. "The ships can simply jump to warp
ahead of the wave."
Spock nodded. "Agreed, Mister Scott. The
ships can jump to safety." Spock folded his hands
together. McCoy noticed that Spock
always made that gesture when he was about to impart bad
news. "The problem I was referring to has nothing to do
with the starships. The resulting wave would pulverize the
rest of the large asteroids in this system. There is a
sixteen percent chance the wave would collapse the
Tauteean sun."
Suddenly McCoy understood Spock's point.
His stomach clamped tightly, almost painfully. He
could tell that Prescott didn't yet
understand. She was staring at Spock.
Kirk's face went white and he dropped down
into his chair. KerDaq frowned. Science Officer
Lee glanced at Spock.
"I don't see the problem," Lee said. "Will the
wave be powerful enough to destroy a
neighboring system? By my calculations, even a
wave of that 139
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine
Kathryn Rusch
intensity wouldn't have a destructive power beyond three light-years. And there are no systems
within that radius."
Spock shook his head. "That is correct.
Three point one light-years. Neighboring
systems will feel it, but it would not be strong enough
to cause damage at their distances."
Kirk sat staring ahead. McCoy knew he had
no choice, and he obviously knew it. Unless they
could come up wit h one more creative solution. The
probability of that, McCoy knew, was next
to nothing.
"Spock," McCoy asked, knowing the kind of
chain reaction he was going to cause in Prescott,
but knowing he had no way to stop it. He kept his hand
on her back, supporting her. Her body was like a
high-tension wire. Her subconscious knew what
this was about, even if her conscious brain didn't.
"How many Tauteean survivors did you estimate
to remain in those asteroids?"
"Thousands, Doctor."
"More survivors?" Prescott moved so fast that
her chair nearly fell over. McCoy caught it.
She was in the center of the bridge in a
heartbeat, confronting Kirk. "There are more
survivors?"
Kirk only nodded.
"They'll be killed."
"Yes, they will," Spock said. He was watching
her closely. McCoy took a step toward her,
then stopped. He could do nothing more. He had
to acknowledge the survivors, had to get the others
searching for a solution, but that was all he could do.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"Your people created this problem. Such stupidity
deserves death," KerDaq said.
Prescott spun and advanced on the Klingon.
She was half his height and one-quarter his weight, but
something in her eyes made the Klingon lean
backward.
McCoy stepped into her path and she
stopped. He was glad she did. He didn't
doubt she was much more powerful than she looked. She
shot a glare at the Klingon, then returned her
attention to Kirk.
"Captain," Prescott said. "You can't kill
the rest of my people."
"If he doesn't, lass," Scotty
said, "hundreds of billions more will die."
McCoy stared at Captain Kirk, who sat
staring at the main screen, not saying a word, faced
with a decision that wasn't really a decision.
Faced with the fact that he would have to order the last
few thousand survivors of a race to their death.
KIRK TURNED HIS BACK on his officers
and stared at the screen before him. The rings were still
expanding, grey and gold and white against the darkness of
space. Sometimes
beauty and destruction went hand in hand. That's what
made destruction so seductive, because it could be
beautiful.
Thousands and thousands of possible
survivors. Even if he had a full day, he
couldn't rescue them all. This was like those games that
philosophers played[\*thorngg'if you had to lose
a friend to save a thousand unknown people, would you save the
friend? Or let him die? Those
philosophers never realized that
people[\*thorngg'real people[\*thorngg'had
to make these decisions all the time.
He had already made this decision once,
and it still haunted him. He always dreamed about Edith
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Keeler's face. In his dreams, he heard that
scream cut off, followed by the thud. He felt the
warmth of Bones in his arms, and saw the
muddy brown building behind them, smelled the
chemical stink of combustion engines in the air.
Let me go, Jim.
I could have saved her.
For the want of a nail, a shoe was lost. For the
want of a shoe, a horse was lost. For the . . .
He shook himself, realising that only seconds had
gone by when it felt like lifetimes.
A thousand lifetimes.
If he could go back and tell the boy from Iowa that
leadership meant sending people to their deaths, if he could
prevent that boy from succeeding at the Academy, from
rising in the ranks[\*thorn]
He still wouldn't do it. Even though he had
inadvertently sent several people to their deaths over the
years as part of his role as captain, he would go through
it all again.
Even Edith.
Especially Edith.
Because someone else might have made the other choice.
The wrong choice.
She would have understood the need to block Hitler,
to let Kirk's history come to pass instead of hers.
She had been ahead of her time, Edith had, and that had
been her doom.
All the kindness, all the good intentions in the world,
couldn't change that.
She would understand this decision too, but she would rail
against it. She would ask if there was 143
Dean Wesley Smithristine Kathryn Rusch
some other way. And if there wasn't, she would say
that even making a small difference was better than
making no difference at all.
The bridge around him had grown deathly
quiet.
He turned around and stared at Spock. "How much
time do we have?"
"We must close the rift within the next one
hundred twenty-one minutes," Spock said.
A small difference. . .
Kirk felt as if the decision were being made for
him. He turned to the Farragut science officer,
Richard Lee. "Have you informed
Captain Bogle?"
. . . was better. . .
Lee nodded. "Yes, sir. He is waiting for
your decision."
Kirk felt a surprised chuckle escape his
lips. Smart man, that Bogle. Since the
solution had been worked out on the Enterprise
bridge, Bogle was not going to second-guess
Kirk. But that left the decision about the survivors
on Kirk's shoulders. And Bogle would take no
responsibility.
. . . than no difference at all.
And there really wasn't a decision to make. But
there had to be another way.
"Spock," he said, "can we slow down the growth
of the rift long enough to get more ships here?"
"Negative, Captain."
"How about getting us a few more hours, long enough
to rescue as many survivors as we can fit on both
ships?"
"Captain," Spock said, using that tone. Kirk
hated that tone. The tone that implied he didn't
get it.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
The problem was, he didn't. Not
really. Why did the universe keep giving him these
impossible choices?
"If we fire randomly into the rift," Spock
was saying, "we would make matters worse. Instead
of creating our own feedback loop, we would augment
the existing loop and increase the size of the subspace
waves. The only way we can close the rift is
to fire an exactly timed burst of energy at the
moment a wave emerges. We will still get one more
wave, the destructive wave we've been
discussing."
No choice. He had no choice at all.
Prescott pushed her way past Bones. Her
tiny features contained a mountain of emotion. She
made the Klingon look tame. "Captain, you can't
let the rest of my people die."
He opened his mouth, closed it again. She didn't
understand. It was too theoretical for her. She
didn't know that other peoples existed in the
universe until a few hours ago. She couldn't
make the leap[\*thorngg'no one could make the
leap[\*thorngg'f the thousand people she knew to the
billions she didn't.
He knew that from vast, painful personal
experience.
"I have to," he said, even though he knew
convincing her was impossible. Her face would haunt
him, her pleading, along with Edith's scream.
A small difference . . .
The idea he had been groping for hit him.
He leapt out of his chair, and moved quickly to
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
the rail, energizedag. "But with your help we can
save a large number of your people."
"You're crazy, Kirk," KerDaq said.
"How?" McCoy asked, his face lighting up.
Kirk turned to Spock. "We have two hours?
Correct?"
"One hour and fifty-eight minutes," Spock
said.
Kirk nodded, not caring about the missing two
minutes. "With your help, Prescott, and with the help
of the rest of your people on board, we should be able
to pinpoint the most likely places for survivors.
Moon bases, sealed bases, spaceports. We
have two ships. We can cram a large number of people
in here if we have to." He smiled at
Prescott. "At least enough to give your
race a fighting chance to start over in another
system."
Prescott's mouth opened. For a moment, he
didn't think she would accept the proposal. Then
she staggered slightly forward as stunned by his words.
"A chance is all we need,
Captain."
"We have three ships," KerDaq said. "And a
fourth will be operational within the hour."
Kirk felt his own eyebrows rise. He
couldn't trust this, any more than KerDaq could trust
him. Kirk moved over and stopped in front of the
Klingon. Kirk said nothing, just stared at him.
After a moment KerDaq laughed. "We have to watch
you," he said. "In case you pick up your
superweapon. If we happen to pick up a few
survivors in the process, so much the better."
Kirk laughed with him. "It seems Starfleet will
allow us to help survivors destroyed by your
superweapon."
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
KerDaq nodded, still half laughing. Then his eyes
froze on Kirk. "No tricks, Kirk."
"No tricks. Have my science officer
explain how to surf those subspace waves
to reduce damage to your ships. We can't have one of
your ships being destroyed by an asteroid. We need
all four ships to close the rift."
KerDaq grunted. "We need no explanation.
You just be sure to survive."
"Deal," Kirk said.
Kirk turned to Prescott as KerDaq headed
for the lift with Science Officer Lee. "We need
locations fast."
Prescott, her eyes alive, her face
beaming, jumped to Spock's side and began giving
him directions.
THE BRIDGE OF THE Farragut was still dark.
Projeff hadn't gotten all the systems back
on line. But the shields were operating at ninety
percent of maximum capacity.
For what good that would do them.
Bogle sat in his command chair, his fingers tapping
on the arm, thinking back to the days when both he and
Kirk had served on this very ship. Somehow, mostly
due to Kirk's brashness and ability to bend rules
without breaking them all the way, he had been
promoted. Bogle didn't totally understand how or
why it had worked that way, but it had.
In those early days on the Farragut, they really
hadn't been that close of friends. They'd played
poker a lot together, but not much else. As officers
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
they had come aboard at the same time,
starting their careers as equals. But it hadn't
remained that way. It had bothered Bogle for years
that Kirk had been promoted to captain ahead of
him. In fact, Kirk had become the youngest
Starfleet officer ever to be promoted to that rank.
And no matter how much Bogle tried to put that
fact away, he had always held that against Kirk.
And he most likely always would.
Now, here he was, captain of the Farragut,
Kirk's old ship. And what was he doing? He was
letting decisions be made by Kirk, of all people.
Sitting here, now, Bogle felt that by deferring
to Kirk regarding what to do with the
Tauteeans he was putting himself and his career at a
personal risk.
Kirk wasn't going to set back Bogle's
career. He would make sure of that.
His science officer, Richard Lee, hadn't been
back two minutes before Bogle realized what
Kirk had set them all up for.
"We're supposed to do what?" Bogle asked.
Lee was standing beside him, a flush on his light
skin. He obviously had agreed with the decision and
he had known what his captain's reaction would be.
The other members of the bridge crew watched in
wonder.
"We're going to rescue as many survivors as
possible in the next one hour and forty-eight
minutes," Lee repeated. "Then we close the
rift and get out of here."
Bogle closed his eyes and leaned his head back.
The edge of the seat felt hard. He had just had his
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
chair recushioned and it still felt hard. "Has
Kirk ever heard of the Prime Directive?"
"It came under consideration," Lee said cautiously.
"That's good to hear," Bogle said, unable to keep
the sarcasm out of his voice. He should have expected
this. That was what kept running through his mind.
He should have expected Kirk to throw all the rules
out the window.
The thing of it was, Bogle's heart agreed with
him. It was Bogle's mind[\*thorngg'and his
dedication to Starfleet[\*thorngg't was having the
trouble. The Prime Directive should be the most
important rule the Federation had. It should be much,
much stronger than Kirk and the others treated it. But
at the moment that was only his opinion. Starfleet
seemed to take a much more relaxed attitude toward
it.
"Get me Kirk," Bogle said. He gave
Lee a hard stare and then turned his back on his
science of ficer.
"Aye, sir," Gustavson replied quickly.
Then after just a moment she said, "On screen, sir."
Bogle stood and stepped toward the screen as the
flushed face of Kirk appeared. Before Kirk could
even say a word, Bogle said, "The Prime
Directive won't let you do this, Captain."
Kirk had started to smile and suddenly the smile
was gone. "What are you saying, Kelly?"
Kirk was trying to pull friendship now and all that
did was make Bogle even angrier. This wasn't
a matter for friendship, as if they were ever
friends. i50
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Kirk might treat his crew like a bunch of friends,
but Bogle believed in maintaining discipline and
following the rules. And right now one of those rules was
being broken[\*thorngg'in his opinion.
"Captain," Bogle said, forcing his voice to remain clear and level. "It is clearly against the
intent of the Prime Directive to rescue any more
of these survivors."
Kirk took a deep breath and squared his
shoulders. "They sent out a distress signal. We
responded and will continue to respond."
"And so you intend to use that to get around the Prime
Directive?"
Kirk frowned at Bogle. "I plan on using
whatever means I can to rescue as many lives as I
can."
Bogle stared at Kirk. Until that moment he
hadn't realized just how much he hated Kirk for
moving ahead of him so fast. But he couldn't let the
hate get in the way of doing his job. And Kirk
did have a point. The Tauteeans had sent out a
distress call. It was a clear way of getting around
the Prime Directive, at least the way
it was being interpreted at the moment by
Starfteet and James Kirk.
But he couldn't let his opinion of how the Prime
Directive should be followed go so easily.
Inside he knew he would help with the rescue, but
he also knew it was against the true focus of the
Prime Directive.
"You may be court-martialed," Bogle said.
"Didn't you hear a word I said? This is against the
intent of our number-one rule. Neither one of our
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
ships should rescue any more survivors. They
destroyed themselves and that is the natural way of things
for some races."
Kirk snorted and his face got red. He
stepped closer to the screen. "Listen to me,
Captain Bogle. I may very well be
court-martialed. But I have over an hour to rescue
survivors and I'm going to pull every one I can out of
those rocks. If I pay the price, fine. At
least I'll be able to sleep at night."
Bogle nodded. It was time to let the argument
re/gg\*thorngg'until a later time.
"All right, Captain. You win . . . this time. We
will do our best to help."
Kirk looked as if he was about to say
something more, then realised what Bogle had said and
nodded. "Good. Kirk out."
The screen went blank and then quickly came back
up. The destruction of the Tauteean
system spread out before Bogle. Three Klingon
battle cruisers now grouped near the Enterprise.
Bogle turned slowly and sat down. The silence
on the bridge was almost stifling. Kirk was going to go
ahead and attempt a rescue and there was nothing
Bogle was going to be able to do to stop him. So he
might as well join him. As Kirk had said, they
had asked for help. It was all the loophole he
needed.
Then when they were done, they would close the rift and
head for Starbase l like. And there he would begin work
to make sure the letter of the Prime Directive was
followed in the future.
And if Captain Kirk broke it again, he would
be the youngest captain ever to lose his post.
KIRK TURNED FROM the screen and
clenched his fists. Bogle had always been a
stickler for rules. Always.
Bogle of all people should have known that rules weren't
the answer to everything.
Sometimes they made the problem worse.
Like in this case.
The Prime Directive no longer applied.
The culture no longer existed.
Of all the damn shortsighted egotistical times
to have a philosophical discussion.
Kirk swung around and sat down. Around
him the other crew members pretended that whatever was
going on at their station required their full and immediate
attention. Even
Prescott had the com1s3
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
mon sense to remain quiet as she stood near the
science station.
"Captain," Spock said, breaking into the deadly
silence of the bridge as he stepped down to his
accustomed place beside Kirk. "Captain Bogle
is right. Our rescue mission is in direct
conflict with the intent of the Prime Directive."
Kirk's fists became so tight that the
skin on the back of his fingers pulled. Spock
knew better. This argument was wrong.
On the main screen the scene of complete destruction spread out in front of Kirk.
"Spock," he said, pointing at the screen. "You
don't really believe any Tauteeans could
survive after the rift is closed."
""There is no chance, sir, that their civilisation
will continue here. But that has no bearing on the Prime
Directive. This race caused its own
destruction. The Prime Directive expressly
forbids us from rescuing a race that destroys itself. The
theory is that such a race could never become
civilised."
"I know the theory, Spock." Kirk just didn't
like it. He didn't like it at all.
"Not civilised?" Prescott asked. Her
voice carried over the entire bridge. Kirk
did not turn to face her. He couldn't look at
her at the
moment. "Who are you to judge whether or not we are
civilised?"
"I was merely stating the main directive that we
operate under, madam," Spock said,
sounding like a polite schoolboy. "The
Prime Directive forbids us from interfering with a
culture that has not reached a certain level of
technical sophistication. 154
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
We are even forbidden from preventing such a race from
destroying itself."
"Why?" she demanded. "To keep the
population down in the universe? So that you people can
control more of it?"
"No," Spock said. "It is not that simple.
It[\*thorn]"
"Every race," Kirk said, staring at the growing rings
on the screen, "that has joined the Federation went through
a self-destructive period. My people did so in the
twentieth century, and nearly destroyed themselves
hundreds of times. We survived it, on our
own, and gained wisdom in doing so. Without that
wisdom, we would not be here."
Staring at that[\*thorngg'the destruction
Prescott and her theories caused.
She was suddenly beside him. He could feel a stir
of wind caused by her arrival. She leaned over the
arm of his captain's chair, and he finally understood
how she had forced a
Klingon to back down. "You would let the
rest of my people die and doom my race simply
because of a rule?"
Kirk's mouth was dry. He couldn't answer her.
But Spock could. "The Prime Directive
leaves us no choice, at least as we understand this
situation at the moment."
Kirk broke his gaze away from Prescott and
frowned at Spock. Even Spock disliked this.
Spock was trying to give him an out, in his own
Spock-like fashion.
"However, Captain," Spock said, "I would
recommend that we not follow the Prime
Directive."
"What?" Kirk asked, actually surprised.
Spock nodded. "In this instance, the Tauteeans
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
did send us a distress signal. They did ask
for our help."
"I understand," Kirk said. It was technically a
legal way to get those survivors. But it wasn't
really enough.
"Captain, I[\*thorn]" Prescott
snapped, but Kirk help up his hand and
stopped her from saying any more. He didn't need her
badgering him at thi s moment. He had to think. He
got out of his chair and approached the screen. The
debris field's slowly forming rings were stupendous in
size, and in the amount of destruction it took to form
them. In just over an hour and a half the Enterprise,
the Farragut, and two of the Klingon ships would
close the subspace rift caused by these Tauteean
people. And in so closing the rift would send out one more
huge, destructive wave that would completely wipe
out any
chance of the Tauteean people's rebuilding or rescuing
themselves.
But by rescuing the Tauteean survivors, he was
not only technically violating the Prime
Directive, but putting every man, woman, and child in
the Federation at risk. If something happened to the
Enterprise during such a rescue operation, there
wouldn't be enough firepower in the remaining ships to close
the rift in time.
No matter how Kirk looked at it, Bogle
was right. Rescuing more survivors was wrong. But why
did he have to be the one actually killing them by closing
the rift?
Then he heard himself say that out loud.
"I'm killing them."
He turned around and faced Spock, who had
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
moved back up to the science station. "Spock,
by closing the rift, we are actually killing the
remaining survivors. Right?"
"That is correct, Captain," Spock said.
"They would not survive such a wave."
"So follow me on this," Kirk said. "We are
not allowed by regulation to kill other races. That's
genocide, Spock. Earth outlawed genocide in the
Geneva Conventions of the twentieth
century. Genocide is something so hideous, so
unthinkable that every member of the
Federation outlawed it centuries ago."
He could feel the excitement starting to return.
He knew he'd found the solution, the justification
he could live with. He didn't know if it would hold
up at a court-martial, but it would hold up in his
own mind.
Spock frowned, clearly thinking. "If we do not
close the rift, the Tauteean survivors will
eventually die over the next five days," Spock
said, "as the subspace waves increase in
intensity."
"We must close the rift to save the lives of the
rest of this quadrant," Kirk said. "But our
actions, without a rescue operation, will kill the
Tauteean race."
"That is correct, Captain," Spock said.
"Therefore our actions would be killing the
Tauteeans, not their actions."
Spock raised an eyebrow and tempted his
fingers. "Technically we would be killing them," he
said.
"It would therefore seem logical that we must
rescue as many Tauteean survivors as
possible," Kirk said, letting his voice rise in
triumph.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
"Actually, Captain, it makes no difference
if our actions kill them or theirs do. The results
are the same. They will die[\*thorn]"
"But it does make a difference, Spock."
Kirk was leaning forward. He could feel the
excitement course through him. This was right. He
knew it. "If with their own actions, they
destroy themselves, the Prime Directive
applies. If our actions destroy them, we have a
duty[\*thorngg'a legal
responsibility[\*thorn)'ffmake certain they are
provided for."
"He is right, Mister Spock," Sulu said from
his console. "We have a duty."
"Technically, Mister Sulu, he is
correct. But legal technicalities are often
twists of a phrase, small games made to keep
scholars happy...."
"Am I to understand, then, Mister Spock, that you do
not want to rescue the survivors?" Kirk asked.
Spock tilted his head back, then rested his
folded hands across his stomach. "Captain, all
life is precious."
Kirk grinned. He turned to Prescott, whose
face held a mixture of anger and puzzlement.
"Can you give Mister Spock possible locations of
survivors?"
She almost beamed, she was smiling so hard. "I
most certainly can," she said.
Kirk turned and sat down again. "Mister
Sulu, lay in a course to the first location given to you
by Mister Spock. We have survivors
to fmd in a very short time."
"Yes, sir," Sulu said.
"And send Captain Bogle alternate
locations," Kirk said. He'd played poker with
Kelly Bogle 158
TEIE RINGS OF TAUTEE
before. He knew that underneath that rough, bythe-book
exterior lay a huge heart. Captain Bogle
would do his best to help, now that he had decided to go
along.
Kirk dropped back into his command chair. "And
Mister Spock. . . relay the outcome of the
discussion we just had to Captain Bogle and
Starfleet. We may as well cover ourselves."
"Yes, sir," Spock said.
In front of him was a screen full of a
destroyed system. They were going back in there
to find survivors and the decision felt right.
"Ready when you are," he said.
IT FELT LIKE DROWNING, only there was
no water around her. Ergi lay on her back on
the cool rock. The air had a thick feeling to it,
stuffy. Breathing was hard. It felt better
to take small breaths than large ones.
Sleeping would feel good too.
But she knew if she slept she would die.
Around her lay her family[\*thorngg'her mother,
her daughter, and her mate[\*thorngg'z well as
their friends and colleagues. Some had passed out against
dark rock. Others had fallen asleep normally,
their chests still rising and falling, but the breaths
obviously shallow.
She sat, her arms wrapped around her knees, and
watched them, guarding the only light that still 160
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
worked. She wasn't sure if they would die first
or if the light's reserve power would fail.
It had seemed like such a good idea a week ago.
They had seen the destruction of the ninth planet. The
waves rippled out from it, and she had projected,
using the figures she could get from the government and her
own calculations, that her planet, the sixth, would
suffer the same effect.
Unless she found a way to survive.
Chunks of the ninth planet had floated off. People
who were underground would survive until rescue teams
found them. That's what she told her mate. He had
told others, and they had crowded into the Er
Mineral Mine near their home. They had stored
food and other supplies, and sealed the entrance,
thinking a week's worth of air would be enough.
It wasn't.
She hadn't believed, hadn't counted on the
fact, that this crisis was bigger than her people. Even as
her family crawled into the mine shaft, she believed
that the scientists would find a way to solve the
crisis.
A week, tops.
But a week hadn't been long enough. And one of the
men, who had brought a portable computer with him,
reported that the other planets and moons were going as
well.
She knew what that meant Even if they
found a solution, it might be months, years before
anyone found her.
And she simply hadn't prepared for that.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
She put her hand on her daughter's head and
smoothed back her hair. The girl's skin was
clammy. Her lips were blue. She would be dead
soon, and it was probably a merciful thing.
Then[\*thorn)'suddenly tilde the entire room
glowed.
Ergi rubbed her eyes, but froze in
midmovement.
No one had told her that when all the oxygen
disappeared, she would see multicolored lights.
But she did.
What a beautiful way to die.
Tijer stood at the window, staring out into space.
He had been here for nearly a week now, his stomach
twisting as he watched Space
Station Alpha spin away from its own system. The
planets were gone now, forming rings
around the sun. The waves continued, but
somehow the station held together. When he wasn't in the
medical unit, he was here, in the corridor, staring
out the windows at the
destruction beyond.
He thought he would never feel terror again after that
day the seventh planet exploded, hurling the space
station out of its orbit and into deep space. He had
managed to keep busy through much of it[\*thorn)'s
many injuries to attend to, so much sudden
nausea[\*thorngg't he wasn't able to watch the
spin, and he was glad of that.
By the time it ended, and he realized that he had
lived, he had thought the terror would fade.
But it didn't. It existed beneath his placid
surface like a tumor, growing and feeding on his
system. The station's one hundred and fifty crew
members 162
Ti1Every RINGS OF TAUTEE
were alone in space. No one would rescue
them. No one could.
Isi, their botanist, believed that she would be able
to grow enough food for them, using
recycled wastes. Their food supplies were
vast. They had just begun their mission on the
station when the destruction happened.
Tijer worried about the waves. They seemed to be
growing stronger, and Buk, the engineer, had mentioned that
if a wave caught them
wrong it would torque the entire station, shattering it
in a single blow.
Instant death.
Tijer squinted at the darkness. The sun's light
seemed dimmer, but something was reflecting. A new
rock, hurtling toward them. Another threat. Larger
rocks could shatter the protective shield.
Then he frowned. That wasn't a rock.
A rock never had such a straight trajectory.
He was watching a ship.
He pressed his face against the cool triple
pane. He didn't remember any ship design
like that. Tauteean ships were oblong, not round. And they
certainly didn't have odd tail sections.
He backed away and shook his head. He was
hallucinating.
The terror had gotten too much for him.
He hurried down the corridor and reached the
medical unit in time to see all his patients turn
into multicolored light. He blinked, trying
to clear his eyes, but his patients were fading.
He held up an arm. It wasn't solid
anymore. 163
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
He was fading too.
A ship? he wondered as his body evaporated.
Someone else's ship? Could the stories he'd read
as a boy have been right?
Could some one else have been out there after all?
The bubble seal was cracked. Brug stood below it,
wearing an oxygen mask. His
companion, Docr, was putting a
sealant on the bubble, but that was only temporary.
A few more of those waves, and the bubble colony would
collapse the way the moon had days
before.
Two hundred people would die. Finally. They would
die as everyone else had.
They had thought they had been lucky. They had thought
that, since the moon split up and their bubble colony
had survived on a tiny chunk of asteroid, their
trials were over. But the trials were only beginning.
Brug hadn't counted on the waves continuing.
And getting worse.
This section of the colony was sealed off, protected since the bubble overhead was cracked. The
crack would spread along the dome until it reached
the inhabited areas. Then there would be nothing to hold in
the atmosphere. Their oxygen helmets would only
last a day or two.
"What's that?" Docr said, her voice sounding
tinny in the helmet's microphone. She was pointing
a gloved hand at a grey speck.
"Dirt?" Brug asked. He wasn't sure
if going through all this work was worth it. Especially
since they were going to die shortly anyway.
164
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"No," she said. "It's growing."
He glanced again. He could have sworn, a moment
ago, that the grey thing had been the size of a speck.
Now it was the size of Docr's finger.
"I don't know," he said, suddenly interested.
"Brug," another voice said through his
intercom. "You're not going to believe this."
"Try me," Brug said, squinting through the crack
at the growing grey creature.
"I think a ship is heading toward this asteroid."
"I think you're wrong," Brug said. "We
don't have grey ships."
"I know."
Docr looked at him. He glanced at her.
Her eyes were wide. "That's impossible."
He nodded. "Mass hallucination. It was only
a matter of time."
"True enough," she said, "but none of us have gone
crazy yet. Control," she said to Operations, "do you
have stats on that thing?"
"It's big," Control said. Brug couldn't
identify the voice. "And it seems to be moving at
an impossible speed. I think that[\*thorn]"
Control's voice stopped. It didn't
get cut off, it didn't fade. It just stopped.
"Control?" Docr said. "Control? Someone?
Pick up?"
There was no static on the line. The line was still
open. Brug turned his dial, tried to bring in
Mess, then Living. Nothing. Open lines but no
voices.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"I don't know," Docr said. Then she looked
up. The grey creature was over their dome, larger
than 165
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
the asteroid, longer than anything Brug had ever
seen before.
Brug heard a faint buzzing. He turned
to see Docr fade into bits of light. He faded
as well, only to reappear in a room filled with
tall monsters.
"I can't believe things could get worse," he
said to himself, and fainted.
THIS TIME, the noise was deafening. Voices
talking, crying, and laughing. Some yelling in
recognition. McCoy fought the urge to put his hands
over his ears as he moved through the corridors.
Or over his nose. The smell was
overwhelming. Nearly a thousand refugees, most
of whom had not bathed since the disaster began, were shoved
like cattle into the
hallways, dining areas, and cargo bays of the
Enterprise.
All the living quarters were filled, all the
lounge areas, and all the maintenance closets.
McCoy got the sense of hundreds of frail
filthy people with little more strength than it took to moan at
him each time he touched one of them.
They were all bruised, all exhausted, and all
terrified. A few seemed to think they had died and
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
gone to the Tautee version of hell. McCoy
couldn't say as he blamed them. He was
beginning to wonder the same thing himself.
He had started out in sickbay, but emergency after
emergency brought him deeper into the ship. He was
lucky he'd been trained in field medicine or
he would have been as
overwhelmed as his nose and ears.
First rule of field medicine Treat the most
seriously injured.
Second rule Don't attempt miracles.
Third rule Attempt miracles.
And so on.
Mostly he had been working with crushed bones and
collapsed lungs. These Tauteeans were so
fragile, and so many of them had
survived on very little oxygen. If he had had an
entire field team, he would have been able to keep
all the survivors alive. Now he would be lucky
if he only lost a few.
McCoy found himself in the shuttle bay. The
trip there had been a succession of pink and bluish
blood, broken femurs and tibias, and shattered
ball-and-socket joints. He only knew he was
in the shuttle bay because of the shuttles parked on their
spots, doors open to reveal even more Tauteeans
inside.
The Tauteean he was working on was Iying on one of
Scotty's cabinets. It had once been
spotless. Now it was covered with dirt and smudges from
a hundred filthy fingers.
The Tauteean was male, young as
Tauteeans went, and in a lot of pain. A gash
ran across his forehead, just over his eyebrows, and when
McCoy 168
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
first bent over him, he had seen a bit of
greyish brain matter.
A quick medical scan showed the gash to be
superficial and the brain uninjured, and the man's
vital signs were strong.
Rule Four Save the minor wounds for later.
"He'll live," McCoy said to the Tauteean
assistant named Nutri whom he had drafted
to assist him. Nutri seemed to have some medical knowledge and
had dug right in and helped. Nurse Chapel had also
taken an assistant and was also checking patients.
Anyone on the Enterprise with even a slight bit
of medical knowledge had been drafted to do the same.
At least two Tauteean doctors were among the
survivors. McCoy had given them a minute
lesson on how to read a medical tricorder, how
to close a skin wound, and how to mend a
broken bone. Then he sent them deep into the
bowels of the ship. He expected they'd make a
number of mistakes, but it was better than nothing for
most of these people.
McCoy stepped over a Tauteean with a black-and-blue eye who claimed nothing else was wrong, and
bent over the next patient. This one was a young
girl, who was half the size of Prescott. A child
then. She was unconscious. McCoy scanned her
and found that one leg had been crushed. Finesse
surgery, which he just didn't have time for at the moment.
He could do the major repairs now and save the
minor ones for later. If he had had more time, he
would have done it all at once. Instead he would have to go
back in, cause her extra pain, in order
to save her leg and her life.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
He would be working on these people until he died.
Eighty years from now.
To make matters worse, the ship shook every five
minutes. He kept losing track of the time, and so it
seemed that each time he was about to do something delicate,
the ship hit one of those waves.
For a while survivors poured in. As he
mended that bone, and inflated this lung, he heard
stories that made him marvel at the ingenuity of the
Tautee people.
And made his hair curl.
He had survived some terrifying things in his day,
but nothing like what these people had gone through.
Over five hundred Tauteeans on the fifth
planet[\*thorngg'the original source of the
Tautee
people[\*thorn] had gone below ground
into ancient bunkers built for some war fought and won
centuries before. They survived on dried food
stored for people long dead, and were
attempting to repair the aircirculation systems
when the Enterprise found them. A few of those
survivors had lost family to botulism and other
diseases McCoy had thought completely
eradicated.
Fifty Tauteeans on a moon of the ninth
planet, near the source of the destruction, saw the
readings on their computers, guessed
something awful was going to happen, and took a
spaceship away from the planet. They
accidentally surfed the first wave, and managed
to float, helpless, in space until the
Enterprise spotted them. Many of the collapsedlung
cases came from there. McCoy also suspected
170
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
he had one case of reversible brain damage from
that ship.
Another hundred had holed up in a sealed
laboratory on the moon of the third planet. They
continued with their daily business as if nothing were
wrong, and were, in McCoy's
opinion, his toughest patients. They didn't
want to believe he existed, didn't want his
help, and wanted to return to their work. He had never
seen so many cases of mass denial in his entire
life.
Now the problem was where to put all the people. The cargo
bays were full, the shuttle bays, including the
shuttles, were jammed.
McCoy had sent the less injured, the ones who
didn't need to lie down, out into the corridors
to sit along the walls. But even the corridors were
filling up.
"Dr. McCoy?" Captain Kirk's voice
barely broke through the noise of the crowded shuttle
bay.
McCoy glanced at the girl with the crushed leg.
She would have to wait a moment. He
moved toward the comm unit on the
bulkhead, indicating that his assistant should stay beside
the girl.
"Go ahead," McCoy said, tapping the intercom
line open.
"Bones," Kirk said. "We are beaming another
two hundred aboard."
"Damned if I know where we're going to put
them," Bones said. And he didn't. There just
didn't seem to be much room left.
"Doesn't matter," Kirk said. "Put them in
the crew's quarters. My cabin will hold a dozen
or so."
"Your cabin's full."
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
"It is?" Kirk seemed shocked. "Well, just
find room. We're running out of time. Kirk out."
"Find room, find room, as if I'm in charge
of housekeeping. What does he think I'm doing
down here? Napping?" McCoy gingerly made
his way back to the injured girl. His assistant
was running a tricorder over her.
"She's oxygen-starved," Nutri said. "I think
that's why she's unconscious."
The ship suddenly began to shake and rock, and the
moans and panicked voices filling the shuttle
bay increased. McCoy leaned against the bulkhead for
support, and closed his eyes, not wanting to see more
bones get broken, more Tauteeans get injured.
Even after an hour of these shakes, every one scared
him. Every time he could imagine the Enterprise being
tossed against a huge asteroid.
He had a vivid imagination at times. Too
vivid.
When the shaking finally passed, he leaned over the
girl. Nutri shook her head. "I don't think
she's going to make it," Nutri said.
McCoy did a quick scan. The girl's signs
were weak, but she was in no danger. And she had been
without oxygen for a while, but not long enough to do any
damage. She was unconscious because of the pain. And a
good thing too. He wouldn't want to stay awake with that
kind of injury.
McCoy made a rough splint to keep the leg
straight, made certain it was clean and no bones had
pierced the skin. Then he glanced at his assistant.
"Find two people to carry this girl into the cargo bay.
I'll fix her leg there later."
172
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Nutri nodded and dashed off over the
sprawling figures of her injured people.
McCoy watched her go. He didn't know if
he'd get to the girl later. He didn't know
if there would be a later. For any of them. But he had
trusted Jim Kirk before. He had to trust him again.
Then, suddenly, right-brace liSo fears got
worse as the lights flickered, dimmed, and then went
out.
AT LEAST the bridge wasn't crowded.
Scatty had asked permission to beam survivors
onto the bridge and Kirk had denied him. They
needed open spaces here, and the ability to think without
explaining each action.
Or who they were.
Or how they came to be here.
Talking to Prescott was enough.
The bridge was a place of action.
It had to remain so.
Besides, Kirk needed the space to pace. He
stopped beside the science station. He didn't know how
Spock could remain so calm.
And motionless.
"How much time do we have before we
need to close that hole?" Kirk asked. 174
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"Twenty-six minutes, Captain." Spock
didn't even glance into his scope. Instead he
kept scanning surrounding space for more survivors.
Kirk nodded and sat down in his chair. Its
ruined pad felt almost welcome. He tapped his
comm button. "Mister Scott. Are the last
survivors out of that mine?"
They had been pulling two hundred more
Tauteean survivors from a deep mine on an
asteroid in the remains of the sixth planet. From
Mister Spock's last count, they had
rescued nine hundred and sixty Tauteeans.
They had no idea how many the two Klingon ships
or the Farragut had found.
"Aye, sir. We've got the last few and are
awaiting coordinates for more," Scotty said.
"Although I don't know where we'll put 'em."
More survivors. There wouldn't be any more. Even
though he wanted there to be. He shook his head,
marveling at the choices before him. A thousand was
simply not enough.
A small difference . . .
"dis . . is better than no difference at all,"
he muttered.
"Captain?" Uhura asked. She had turned,
hand to her ear, as if she had heard him in the
intercom.
He shook his head again. "Just muttering,
Lieutenant."
He punched the intercom button again to the
transporter room. "Good work, Mister Scott.
Stand by."
"Aye, sir," Scotty said.
Kirk was running out of the time or the luxury
to worry about all the Tauteeans he couldn't
rescue. 175
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
All he could do now, when he had quiet
time[\*thorngg'if he ever had quiet time
ag[\*thorngg'was
hope that Spock's estimates were wrong, that they
had found every last survivor.
That was a possibility, wasn't it?
But he knew better than to ask.
"Captain," Spock said, glancing up
from his scope. "I have found a large group of
survivors in a deep, underground mining area on the
fourth planet."
"How large?" Kirk wasn't really sure he
wanted to know the answer.
"I would estimate there to be over eight hundred, sir."
"Eight hundred. We can't[\*thorn]"
Suddenly the lights flickered and then went out. In
the half second of total darkness, Kirk stood.
This was too much. Then the emergency lights came
on-line. The display screens and the instrumentation
panels provided most of the light. The crew
looked ghostly, but they had all retained their
positions.
"We have had a full power loss, Captain,"
Spock said. "All of the sensors are down."
"Communications are out," Uhura said.
"The helm is not responding," Sulu said.
Kirk glanced around, not really believing what was
happening. Suddenly they were completely dead and blind in
the middle of the most
dangerous debris field this side of Earth.
Quickly he slammed his fist onto the comm button.
"Scatty! What's going on?"
There was a moment of silence; then a quavering 176
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
voice said, "Mister Scott is in the
transporter room."
Kirk knew that. He had hit engineering by force of
habit. He hit the comm button for the transporter
room. "Mister Scott! Status!"
This time, Scotty's voice responded immediately. "Well, Captain, from what I can tell
here, all this shaking and rattling around caused a short
somewhere in the main circuits. The short caused a
power spike large enough to knock out the main power
couplings. Most of the systems are off-line."
"We noticed,"" Kirk said. "We can't run
like this, Scotty. We need power. Now."
"I know, sir. I'll do what I can. But at the
moment, I canna get you more power."
Kirk leaned toward the arm of his seat. "How long
will it take to get the power back on-line?"
"I'm heading for engineering now," Scotty said.
"It shouldn't be very long."
"How long, Mister Scott?"
"Ach, five minutes, maybe six," Scotty
said.
"Captain," Spock said, without turning
around, "the next subspace wave will hit us in
exactly two minutes and eight seconds."
"Mister Scott, you have two minutes."
"Aye, sir," Scotty said.
Kirk hoped two minutes was enough time. Because if it
wasn't, the Enterprise and the thousand Tauteean
survivors on board would be smashed to a pulp against
the nearest asteroid.
"CAPTAIN," Science Officer Lee said,
glancing up from his scope. His voice seemed
to shake and his face looked pale in the blue light
from his panel. "The Enterprise is in trouble."
"What?" Bogle jumped up from his command chair.
He'd spent most of the last hour there in silence,
riding out the bumps of the subspace waves, and
thinking, letting his crew handle the few rescue
operations. Kirk's last communique before the
Enterprise went into the rings on a rescue operation
had been addressed to both him and Admiral
Hoffman at Starfleet. Kirk had reasoned that
without the Federation and Klingons closing the rift, the
Tauteean race might have a chance of survival.
A small
chance, but chance nonetheless. Therefore, since the
Federation was causing the 178
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
final destruction of the Tauteean system to save
itself, a rescue operation was justified. The Prime
Directive no longer applied.
Kirk had a good argument, but it was nothing more than
that. Hoffman might buy it. She wasn't here.
She hadn't seen the rings, or the destruction. She
didn't know just how
devastating it was.
But Bogle did. And he wasn't convinced. The
Tauteeans would have died if the Federation didn't
exist. They would have died if no one had come into their
sector. They would die five days sooner because of
Federation interference, but no race could save itself in
only five days.
Not in circumstances like these.
Not with this kind of rift, in these kind of waves,
with the Tauteeans' level of technology.
Jim Kirk knew that, and Kelly Bogle
knew that.
Bogle respected Kirk enough not to argue the point
at this time. But that was it. If he was called
to testify, he knew what he would say.
"Sir?" Lee said.
Bogle stood and moved over to the science station.
"Can you tell what's happening?" Bogle asked.
"They seem to have suddenly lost all power and
engines."
Behind him Bogle heard a few gasps from his
bridge crew. Without power or engines, the
Enterprise would not survive in those waves. Damn
Kirk.
Bogle turned to Gustavus. "Hail them."
"Yes, sir," she said. "Farragut
to Enterprise. Come in, Enterprise."
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
Bogle waited in silence.
"Farragut to Enterprise. Come in,
Enterprise."
Nothing. Bogle rubbed his thumb and
forefinger together, an old nervous habit he thought
he'd lost.
"Farragut to Enterprise. Come in,
Enterprise."
Kirk had caused this. Kirk had gone in with no
regard for Federation dictates, and now
Kirk and his ship had become Bogle's
responsibility.
"They may have lost communication in the power
outage," Lee said. "It appears to be a
shipwide failure. If that is the case, they
probably also have lost sensors."
Bogle glanced at the front screen, which showed the
huge debris fields slowly forming rings around the
Tauteean sun. A ship stranded in there, without power,
had no chance of survival.
Bogle didn't want to know the answer to the next
question, but he had to ask it. "How long until the
next subspace wave hits them?"
Lee studied his scope for a moment, his fingers
dancing on his control board. Finally he said,
"Less than two minutes, sir."
Bogle stood frozen for a moment. Not enough time
to get there and help. Not enough time at all.
But he could at least try.
He turned to Rodriguez. "Take us in to the
position of the Enterprise at the safest and fastest
possible course."
After just a second Rodriguez said, "The
course is plotted."
"Do it," Bogle said. Then he turned
to Lee. "Keep an eye on that wave and make
sure it doesn't slam us into a damn rock."
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"Understood, sir."
Bogle sat down and watched the big screen.
There was little he could do now. He had to trust the
skill of his navigator and his science officer. He
had no other choice.
The Farragut and the Enterprise were his
responsibility. He had to risk his own ship to go
after James Kirk.
He hated that.
And right now he hated Jim Kirk more than
anything.
BEIND, DEAF, TRAPPED in a lifeless ship
in the middle of a debris field. With a subspace
wave on the way.
Kirk glanced at Prescott. She had gone very
pale.
She knew what was happening.
It had happened to her before. All of her people had
been in this situation before.
He had risked his ship and his life to save as many
of them as he could. He wouldn't let this stop him.
He would succeed, at any cost.
"One minute until the wave hits,
Captain," Spock said.
Kirk pressed the comm button so hard his finger
hurt. "Mister Scott, I need power, at least
to the impulse engines and the sensors."
"I'm working on it, sir," Scotty said. His
voice 182
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
sounded strained and breathless, as if he'd been
running.
Kirk took a deep breath and forced himself to glance
around, away from the totally blank main screen.
Prescott stood, her hands grasping the rail as
if she'd fall off a cliff were she to let go.
Kirk didn't blame her. He couldn't imagine
going through what she had experienced the past few
weeks.
Sulu continued to work the helm as if he could get
control from his seat. Uhura was beneath the communications
board, apparently trying to patch things. Chekov was
beside her, offering his advice softly.
But Kirk's gaze kept coming back to the
blank screen. He felt as if it were a curtain
on the rest of the world, hiding but not preventing danger.
Outside the thin hull of this ship, hundreds of
huge rocks and asteroids Doated. When the wave
hit, the Enterprise would be in for the ride of her
life.
Kirk took his finger off the comm button.
"What's our status, Mister Spock?"
"We have full shields, Captain," Spock
said, his face intent on the panel before him, "but no
sensors or impulse power. Warp drive is still
available to us, as are the docking thrusters."
"What's our chance of surviving this next wave?"
"Without impulse power and sensors," Spock
said, "we have a ninety-nine-percent chance of being
smashed into an asteroid too large for our shields.
There is an eighty-seven-percent chance there will be no
survivors from such a collision."
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
"Oh, no," Prescott said into the silence of the
bridge. "This can't be happening."
"Sensors are back," Sulu said, his voice
almost breaking in the excitement.
Kirk whirled as the main screen lit up, showing
them the debris field around them.
"Thirty seconds until the wave hits,"
Spock said.
That last minute and a half had been the longest of
Kirk's life.
"Mister Spock," Kirk asked, still staring at the
screen, "can we move quickly enough with
docking thrusters to avoid collisions?"
"No, sir," Spock said.
"Scotty?" Kirk said, holding his finger down
on the comm button. "There's no time left. We
need impulse power."
He didn't expect Scotty to answer.
"Mister Spock, give Sulu the course just in
case."
"I have already done so, Captain," Spock said.
Chekov made his way back down the bridge,
returning to his position. Uhura had climbed
back into her chair. Apparently the rewiring hadn't
worked.
Kirk stepped forward and patted Sulu on the
shoulder. "If we don't have impulse when the wave
hits, do your best with the docking
thrusters. Avoid what you can."
"Aye, sir," Sulu said.
"Ten seconds," Spock said.
Kirk retreated and sat down in his command chair.
"Nine seconds," Spock said. 184
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
His voice almost sounded calmer than the computer's.
"Eight."
Kirk grimaced. It seemed like his entire life
had been lived with countdowns.
"Seven."
Maybe he did prefer the computer's voice.
He was used to it counting the seconds of his life
away.
"six."
"Scatty," he said softly, not bothering to punch
the comm button.
"Five."
"Hold on, everyone," Kirk said, making
certain he sounded calm.
"Four."
"Captain," Scotty's voice cut through the
bridge. "You got your power."
"Three."
Kirk took a deep breath. "It's all yours,
Mister Sulu."
"Two."
The ship moved forward.
"One.",
The moaning started and the wave hit with the force of an
angry child pounding on an unwanted toy.
To Kirk this wave felt more intense than any of the
others. He didn't know if it really was, or if
it just seemed to be because they had come so close to dying with
this one.
He managed to maintain his seat. Everyone on the
bridge stayed at their stations and Prescott 185
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
remained standing as the pounding shook the ship. It was
amazing they hadn't had something fail before now.
Then the wave passed.
And they were still alive.
Every face on the bridge, except for
Spock's, had an ear-to-ear smile. Kirk could
feel himself smiling as well.
"Nice work, Mister Scott," Kirk said into the
intercom.
"My poor girl will need every nut and bolt
tightened after this ride," Scotty said.
"At Starbase Eleven, Mister
Scott. I promise."
"I'll hold you to that, Captain."
"The Farragut is approaching," Chekov said.
"And they're hailing us," Uhura said.
Kirk's grin widened. He had an idea that just
might work, now that Bogle had come charging to their
rescue. He turned to Mister Spock. "Do we
still have time to rescue those survivors you spotted?"
"Barely, sir," Spock said. "We have twenty
minutes until we need to close the rift."
"That's enough time," Kirk said.
"Eight hundred people, sir," Chekov said.
"They'll be hanging off the rafters."
Kirk shook his head. "No, they won't,
Ensign."
"But sir, we're already filled[\*thorn]"
"Yes, we are, Mister Chekov. We'll need
to find somewhere new to put them all." Kirk leaned
back in his chair. The main screen showed the
Farragut, a small but growing ship against the
debris field. 186
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"And I think I just might know just the place. And
I'll wager they have room."
Kirk stood.
"Answer the hail, Lieutenant, and put this on
screen," Kirk said. "Let's see just how good a
poker player my old friend Bogle
really is."
THE SHAKING FROM the last wave passed.
Bogle's crew had learned to ride the waves
out. No one had lost his seat, no one had even
moved a finger except for balance.
And no one said a word.
Bogle stared at the screen, but it didn't tell
him much. Kirk, the Enterprise, and even the
survivors worried him.
Even the survivors.
Bogle shook his head, and turned. Lee was staring
into his scope. His long body was tense, and his hands
were gripping the science
console.
His knuckles were white.
"Mr. Lee?" Bogle asked, not really wanting
the answer. Without power, no ship would have survived that
wave.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Lee stood slowly. "They made it. Looks like
they got their impulse engines back on line at the
last second."
Bogle let out the breath he hadn't realized he
was holding. This system was disaster enough for all of them.
They didn't need to lose the Enterprise too.
At least, not on his watch.
"Hail them," he said as he turned back to the
screen.
"Aye, sir," Gustavus said. "Farragut
to Enterprise, come in, Enterprise."
Outlined against the debris, the Enterprise was
moving slowly toward them. She had a battered
look, some of her lights were off, but she looked
sleek and powerful, like the flagship she was.
After a moment, Gustavus said, "I have the
Enterprise, sir."
"On screen," Bogle said. He moved
closer. He forced himself to show his most calm face.
Right now he was relieved. Underneath, though, he was
furious. Kirk had put four hundred of his people in
danger while he broke the Prime Directive.
And then he had put Bogle's ship at risk.
The image on the screen shifted from the exterior
of the Enterprise to the interior. Kirk
smiled as the picture cleared. He looked even more
beat-up and tousled than he had an hour before.
Bogle imagined he didn't look much better.
"Thanks for coming to help," Kirk said. "That was a
close one."
Bogle nodded. "I know. Do you still need
assistance?"
Kirk glanced around and then looked back at
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
Bogle. "Actually, we do. My chief engineer
informs me that the Enterprise is still having problems.
He needs to shut down the
environmental controls on some of the lower decks.
The problem is that we are stuffed to the gills with
survivors. How many have you picked up? I'd like
to beam some over to you."
Bogle glanced back at Lee who answered
softly, "We have found a little over three
hundred."
Bogle nodded and turned back to Kirk. "We
have over three hundred," Bogle said. "I doubt
we could take too many more."
Kirk laughed. "We're almost at a
thousand. And if the environmental controls go, then I
hurt them. We might even lose some of the injured
ones."
Bogle glanced at Lee. Lee shrugged and
mouthed, his controls look fine. Kirk was
bluffing. He was trying to manipulate Bogle, and the
manipulation wouldn't wor k.
"Take the risk, Jim," Bogle said. "I
get the ploy and I think we have enough for now."
The smile le\* Jim Kirk's face.
"Kelly, I'm the one who takes the
responsibility here. You're going to make certain
I'm court-martialed when we get back, if my
guess is correct. Take some more of the evidence with
you. I'd hate to be court-martialed for saving
lives I later lost."
Bogle laughed. He couldn't believe Kirk was
even asking this. What was his reason? It made no
sense.
"Kelly," Kirk said. "I'll go on record
that you had no part in the rescue and it was my
decision completely."
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"I rescued survivors, also,"
Bogle reminded him. "I am perfectly capable
of standing for my own decisions."
"Are you, Kelly?" Kirk asked. "Are you
really? Or are you just using the Prime Directive
as a shield to hide behind? You're afraid to take
risks. Afraid to do anything that would
jeopardise this marvelous career of yours. But being
a starship captain is all about taking risks,
Kelly, and if you don't have the guts to do so, then
you'll always be one step behind the rest of us."
That stung. Bogle felt his face go red, even
though he didn't want it to. Bogle hated
Kirk for his fast promotions and now Kirk was
tossing the fact at him like a weapon. How could
Kirk have known how he felt?
Bogle forced himself to take a deep breath. "You
just don't understand, do you, Jim? Rules such as the
Prime Directive were made for reasons. Damn
good reasons. Not just so you could go running around the
sector breaking them."
"I don't run around the sector breaking them,"
Kirk said. "'But I do know when taking a risk
is important." He motioned behind him. A tiny
humanoid woman climbed into view. She had a
bruise on her forehead, and her wide
eyes held a strain that Bogle couldn't even begin
to understand. "Right now, I doubt our rules would carry
much weight with Prescott and her people below."
Across the distance between the two
starships, the woman held Kelly's gaze
until he finally had to look away. Kirk played
dirty. Putting a face instead of just a rule on
these people made it harder.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
"Your environmental controls aren't really going, are they, Jim?"
Kirk put a hand on Prescott's shoulder.
"They're strained to the breaking point, Kelly, and
anything else I might do would strain them further.
Let's give these people the best chance we can. You've
got the room."
The woman didn't say anything. She didn't
have to. Her wide eyes said it all. Even if
Kirk was Iying, even if he was scheming, Bogle
now had a face that would haunt his dreams.
And if something did happen to the
Enterprise, it would be his nightmares.
He glanced at Lee. "How long would
it take to beam a large number of survivors
aboard?"
"With all the transporters," Lee said,
"including cargo transporters of both ships, not
long. Maybe five minutes."
"Four point eight minutes for six hundred,"
Bogle heard someone say behind Kirk.
Bogle faced Kirk. "Do it. Get them over
here. Then let's go close that rift and get out of
here."
Kirk broke into a smile. "We'll do it.
And, Kelly, thanks."
The screen went blank.
Bogle turned to Lee and said, "Give the order
to get the evacuation started and let me know the moment
we have them all. I want to get out of here."
"Yes sir," Lee said and turned to his
panel. Bogle couldn't tell if he was smiling
or not.
"And watch out for the next wave."
"Yes sir," Lee said again. 192
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Bogle dropped down into his command chair.
Bogle had watched Kirk play poker. Kirk
bluffed, a lot.
Bogle also knew that the environmental
controls on the Enterprise weren't reason enough
to ship the survivors over to the
Farragut. No, Kirk had a plan. A
clear plan which he wasn't going to share with Bogle.
There was sixteen minutes left until they had
to close that rift. Sixteen long minutes. That
gave Kirk a lot of extra time. The question was,
what was he going to do with it?
BOGLE HAD GivENOUGH IN. Prescott
had done it. Bogle hadn't been able to argue the
rules while Prescott was staring him in the face.
Kirk should have skipped the entire business of the
environmental controls. While it was true, on an
odd sort of level[\*thorngg'the Enterprise
wouldn't have been able to support all the new
survivors and the old[\*thorngg'x hadn't been
nearly as convincing as Prescott herself.
Kirk squeezed her shoulder, then spun and hit
his comm button. "Scatty, we're emergency-beaming seven hundred Tauteean survivors over
to the Farragut. Coordinate with them, and do it
fast."
"But, Captain, I need to work on the
Enterprise 194
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
herself. She's not in top shape yet and we still have
some business here in this rift."
Kirk grinned. Scotty always wanted to work on
his ship over everything else. "I know that, Mr.
Scott. Keep it together as best you can. But unload
the survivors. Fast. Kirk out."
Kirk punched the comm button again. "Dr.
McCoy, to the bridge at once."
"On my way," McCoy's voice came
back.
Kirk smiled at Spock. "He's not going to like
this one at all."
Spock looked puzzled. "I do not understand what
Dr. McCoy's enjoyment of a situation has to do
with the rescue of more survivors."
Kirk laughed and waved his hand from side to side.
"Never mind. Just tell me how long it will take us
to get to those survivors you found, get them aboard,
and get to the rift."
"The new group of survivors number, at my
latest count, approximately nine hundred and
eighty. They are under a very thin layer of
rock, which will allow us to bring them aboard in eight
point six minutes."
Kirk nodded. They could do that, if
everything kept working. "Will it give us enough time to get
to the rift?"
"Yes, Captain. We will have almost two
minutes to spare."
"Two minutes," Kirk said. Two minutes.
For the Tauteean people, those two minutes might be an
entire future. "Spock, I want you to keep
me informed the second we fall behind
schedule. If we 195
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
fall behind. Getting that rift closed is much more
important than the last few hundred
survivors."
He glanced at Prescott, who was frowning from his
last statement. "I'm sorry, but it is."
She nodded, but the frown didn't leave her
face.
Behind her, the lift doors burst open and Dr.
McCoy came out, looking dirty, tired, and
angry. "Jim, just what in blazes is going on?
I had a roomful of Tauteean
survivors beamed right out from under my nose."
"We're putting them back on the rocks,"
Kirk said. Then, before Dr. McCoy could have a
brain hemorrhage, he laughed. "We're moving
them all to the Farragut."
McCoy seemed to stammer for a minute as Chekov
and Sulu both chuckled at the joke. Then he said,
"For heaven's sake, why?"
Kirk let himself drop down into his chair before
he answered. "Because there are nine hundred more we're
going to bring aboard." He swung so he could see the
doctor's face. "So be ready."
McCoy opened his mouth, then closed it, then
opened it again. But not one word came out. "How long?"
Kirk glanced at Spock. "The last of the
survivors we have aboard are just being
transported to the Farragut. I would say the
new survivors will start arriving in about two
minutes."
Kirk swung back around to face the front
screen. He'd better say something to Bogle before
they left. No point in having him too angry.
"Give me the Farragut. his
After a moment Uhura said, "On screen,
sir."
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Kirk stood as Bogle's face came
into view. "Thanks, Kelly," Kirk said.
"See you at the rift?" Bogle said.
"We're on our way," Kirk said, and then cut
the screen.
Then he said to the air in front of him, "We just
have a few passengers to pick up first."
THE ENVIRONMENTAL CONTROLS were
strained. Spock's estimate had been off.
Instead of nine hundred and eighty survivors on
the surface below, there had been nine hundred and
eighty on the first level. Another five hundred
had been on the level below.
The Enterprise had beamed them all aboard, and
Scotty said they were crammed like
breeding gophers under an island green,
something Kirk hadn't understood. Sulu had said
Scotty was using a golf metaphor, and Kirk
didn't ask any more.
He had tried golf once, in Iowa as a boy.
He preferred chess.
Or basketball. Either all cerebral
activity or none.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
And here he was, in the middle of a crisis,
pondering a golf analogy.
"Captain"[\*thorngg'Scotty's voice
sounded harried over the comm[\*thorn)'"...I do think
we should move
some of these poor folks to the bridge."
"No, Mister Scott." Kirk sat on his
chair, then winced and stood abruptly. The pad was
completely gone now. "They stay beldecks."
Kirk still needed the thinking room. Even if the
survivors were packed below. He was glad Bogle
had taken the rest. The Enterprise was strained almost
beyond her capacity, and they weren't done yet.
"Captain," Prescott said. "Do you think we
have time to find one more group?"
And one more, and one more. She would
keep asking, and they would miss their
opportunity. Kirk looked into her exhausted,
bruised face. This was the face that even the good
tightass Captain Kelly Bogle couldn't
refuse.
But Kirk had to.
"We're out of time, Prescott," he said.
"I'm sorry." Then he turned to Sulu.
"Take us to the rendezvous point near the rift."
"Aye, sir," Sulu said. His fingers moved
across the board. "Course laid in. We're on
our way."
He sounded almost relieved. Maybe he was.
The sooner they got to the rendezvous point, the
sooner this would all be over.
He hit the comm button. "Mister Scott.
Return to engineering. We'll need you there."
"Aye, sir," Scotty said. He sounded
relieved too. 199
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
Kirk sat down despite the ruined pad. "Are
the other ships in position?" he asked.
"The Farragut and the Klingon ship QuaQa
carrying KerDaq are in position," Spock said.
"The Klingon ship SorDaq is headed in that
direction and will arrive in one minute."
"Good," Kirk said, leaning back and watching as the
Enterprise moved above the plane of the destroyed
solar system and headed for the debris field
of the ninth planet. "What's our estimated arrival
time, Mister Sulu?"
"We'll be there in two minutes, sir," Sulu
said.
"So fast," a voice said from behind Kirk.
He swiveled his chair. Prescott was standing at
the rail, her arms resting on it, staring at the
screen. She was so short that she looked like a little
girl peering over a fence. Her face had that look
of awe and wonder that he had seen on others, and
felt a few times himself.
"What took us weeks to travel you do in minutes," Prescott said. "And you travel between the
stars? Not one of my people dared dream of such a thing.
We always just assumed it was impossible."
"Sometimes dreaming is the only way to find ways
to do the impossible," Kirk said.
Prescott pulled her gaze from the screen and
met his. Here, he knew, was a woman who
would continue to lead her people. She had nearly
destroyed them, but she had also helped rescue them.
Sometimes that culpability, that guilt, made
survivors try even harder.
They all had a long road ahead of them.
"I see now that you are right, Captain.
Our 200
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
problem was that we were too cautious, our dreams
too small," she said.
"It seems to me," Spock said, "that the dream of
unlimited energy for your people is not small."
"Yes it is," she said, "when we could have had the
stars." And then she smiled.
"Captain," Spock said. "We have reached the
designated point. All four ships are in
place. The third Klingon ship, Suqlaw, is
waiting outside the system."
"Understood," Kirk said. "Lieutenant
Uhura, patch me in to the other three ship
captains. Make sure they can also see each
other."
"Yes, sir," she said. The picture of the other
ships on the main screen dissolved and was replaced
by a divided screen showing three faces, one human
and two Klingon. Captain Bogle, a streak of
dirt across his chin, nodded to Kirk.
KerDaq glowered. Kirk could see survivors
behind him.
The unknown Klingon captain squinted at
Kirk. Kirk squinted back.
"I am Commander Kutpon," the new Klingon
said, in what was obviously the most menacing tone he
could manage.
"Captain Kirk," Kirk said, deciding not
to play that game. KerDaq could explain to Kutpon
that relations with the Federation were cordial, for the moment.
"I hope the hunting went well for everyone."
"We have gathered over two hundred
survivors," Kutpon said.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
"We also have two hundred crammed
aboard," KerDaq said.
"The Tauteean people will hold you in great honor for
your bravery," Kirk said before Bogle could say
anything. There was no point in getting into a useless
numbers game over who rescued the most.
Bogle clearly understood. "You crammed us
full, Jim. And I see you made another stop
on the way."
Kirk shrugged. "We found we had the room."
Bogle just shook his head in obvious disgust.
Kirk wasn't sure if Kelly was mad at him,
or himself. "And how are your environmental
controls?"
"Strained to the breaking point," Kirk said, and
suppressed a grin.
Bogle nodded. "I suspect you're right. If
we hadn't had our rendezvous, you would have lost your
environmental controls. Funny how that works,
isn't it? Too many bodies in too small a
space."
Kirk shrugged. "Just planning ahead, Kelly."
"Obviously," Bogle said.
"We have two minutes, Captain," Spock
said.
Kirk took a deep breath and felt his grin
fade. The serious work had begun. He faced the
other three captains. "Are we all clear on
what we're going to attempt?"
KerDaq snorted. ""Of course we are,
Captain. A single blast from each ship timed together
will close the hole."
Kirk could see the other captains nodding in
unison. It seemed that everyone had been
briefed. 202
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"Mister Spock will count down to the firing time. The
moment after you have fired your full burst,
jump to warp. You will have only thirty seconds
to get out of the subspace wave's path."
All three captains nodded again.
The Klingons and the Federation might be enemies, but
that didn't stop them from
respecting each other. KerDaq was an
excellent captain. Kirk had no doubt that
Kutpon was the same. They knew the risks they would
place their ships under, the possible damage that could
occur.
Of course, if this didn't work, the damage
wouldn't matter. This rift in space would destroy this
entire sector of the galaxy and no one would live
through it.
"The nearest starbase, Starbase Eleven, is
only a half day away," Bogle said. "We can
dock there. With the survivors." He said the last with a
touch of sarcasm.
"Understood," KerDaq said. "We will be there."
His third of the screen went blank.
"And so will we," Kutpon said,
His section of the screen went dark as well.
Bogle said. "And good luck. We'll talk when
we reach the starbase his
"I am looking forward to it," Kirk
said. "And good luck to you, too. We're all going
to need it. Kirk out."
The screen went back to showing the four ships
spaced in a square formation above the debris field
of the ninth planet.
"We have one minute, Captain," Spock said.
Kirk glanced around. Uhura was still monitoring
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
communications. Sulu was staring at the screen.
Chekov was double-checking the coordinates.
Prescott leaned against the railing, her feet
barely touching the ground. Her slender face was lined
with tension. Spock was bent over his scope, looking
as unruffled as ever. Only the ensigns sitting off
to the sides seemed
frightened. And even they were working.
They were the only sign that this moment was different from
any other, that they faced more danger than they ever had.
Kirk's crew was the best in the galaxy.
He only hoped they would be good enough.
"Course laid in for Starbase Eleven,"
Sulu said.
"Lasers armed and ready, sir,"
Chekov said.
"Good," Kirk said. "On Mister Spock's
mark."
"Thirty seconds," Spock said.
"Are all four ships' weapons powered up?"
Kirk asked.
"They are, sir," Chekov said.
Thirty seconds seemed like an eternity.
Kirk resisted the urge to stand and pace. He needed
to focus all his concentration on that shot.
Because it was the only one they would ever have. The only
one, or the last one, depending on whether they hit
their target or not.
"Ten seconds," Spock said.
Kirk gripped the armrest.
"Nine."
Another countdown. Someday he would have to count down
how many countdowns he'd been in.
"Eight."
He watched the other ships get into position.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"Seven."
Chekov checked the coordinates again.
"six."
Prescott braced herself against the rail.
"Five."
Uhura swiveled so that she could see the
screen. "Four."
Kirk leaned forward, his stomach in knots.
"Three."
The ensigns stopped working and watched, their
expressions guarded.
"Two."
Spock raised his head out of the scope.
"One."
Kirk clenched his fist.
"Fires" Spock said.
On the screen Kirk could see the other three
ships firing and the beam from the Enterprise joining theirs
at a point below in the
destruction.
A long red line grew wide and powerful, like a
stream of water poured from a pitcher. Kirk felt that
if he tilted the Enterprise slightly, he could
see through the debris hole into the next universe.
Then, as a unit, all four beams from the ships
cut off.
"We hit our target," Spock said with an
amazing lack of excitement. Sometimes
Kirk wondered how he managed that flat tone in
life-threatening situations. "The feedback loop is
building as planned."
"Get us out of here, Mister Sulu," Kirk
snapped. "Warp four."
"Aye, sir," Sum said. He ran his hand up
the board as he said, "Engaging."
Dean Wesiey Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing happened.
The screen remained focused on the asteroids
below. None of the other three ships remained. All
had jumped to warp. Kirk couldn't see the huge
destructive subspace wave building up below, but
he knew it was coming.
"Mister Sulu!" Kirk said.
"The warp drive is off-line!" Sulu said, his
voice suddenly on the edge and rising.
Kirk punched the comm button. "Mister
Scott, we lost warp."
"I know, sir," the voice came right back.
"All this shaking and rattling knocked the coils out of
alignment. I warned you this might happen."
"The wave will hit in twenty seconds,"
Spock said with annoying calm.
"Oh, no," Prescott said behind Kirk. "This
can't be happening."
"Fix it, Scotty. Now!"
"I canna fix her in twenty seconds,
sir," Scotty said.
"I can't hold off that wave."
"I know, sir. If we had a minute, maybe.
But a minute might as well be forever."
Forever. Way too long. They had less than
twenty seconds to figure out a way to survive.
Twenty very short seconds.
LESS THAN lWENTY SECONDS.
They had to do something.
Kirk opened his eyes. All he saw was
Prescott, her hands pressed to her face.
He saved her people only to lose them again.
"Scotty!" Kirk shouted into the comm line.
"Get those warp drives up! And put any extra
power you can to the shields. No w."
"Aye, sir," Scott said.
"The rift is closing," Spock said.
"We have fifteen seconds until the subspace
wave
reaches this location."
Kirk couldn't believe this was happening. There had
been no warning.
Of course, there might have been, but he had 207
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch assigned Scotty to the transporter
room. Scotty usually always babied that warp
engine. He'd have noticed if anything were going
wrong.
But he hadn't been there.
Kirk had thought he needed Scotty to
supervise the tricky transports.
And he had.
He needed a dozen Scotties.
Right now.
"Mister Sulu," he snapped. "Take us
directly away from that rift at full impulse'"
"Aye, sir," Sulu said.
The screen showed the destroyed system
angling away out of view, then a starfield.
"At this speed," Spock said, "the subspace
wave will reach and overtake us in fifty-one
seconds."
He had bought some time.
Scotty, do your magic.
Now.
Kirk turned to Spock. "What are the odds we
can surf this one out and survive?"
Spock shook his head. "There are too many
factors. I could not give you an accurate
estima-tion."
"Guess, Spock," Kirk said, his hands doubled
into fists.
Spock leaned back. "I believe there is a
less than zero-point-one-percent chance shields will
hold and the hull will not breach."
"Nice guess," Kirk said.
"I do my best," Spock said.
"Are we going to die?" Prescott asked.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"Not if I can help it," Kirk said. "But
I'd hang on to something real tight in the meantime."
lIe punched the comm link. "Scotty? Warp?"
"The engine's on-line, Captain, but she's not
responding."
"I thought you said we had a minute, Scotty.
You should have had plenty of time."
"A minute to get her back on-line,
Captain. But I didna say she was going to work."
"Well, keep trying." Kirk punched the
intercom off.
Spock stood and clasped his hands behind his back,
as if he were going to make an important
pronouncement. "The rift has closed."
They had succeeded, but they could not celebrate.
The first time, he had saved the galaxy by sacrificing
Edith. This time, he was saving the galaxy
by sacrificing himself and his crew.
And fourteen hundred and eighty Tauteean
survivors.
He would not lose to the galaxy twice.
He.
Would.
N.
He turned to Spock. "Is there any way
to get any more impulse power?"
"No," Spock said. "Not enough power, anyway.
But I do have an idea."
"Make it quick," Kirk said.
Spock bowed his head once. Then he stepped
forward, and all the repressed emotion, the excitement
and the fear, was in his eyes. But not his 209
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
voice. "We must apply Dr. McCoy's
theory
again. We cannot defeat the entire wave. But we can
modify a small section of it."
"How, Spock?"
"At the precise moment that the wave
overtakes us, we use a photon-torpedo
blast to cut down the intensity of that small section
of the wave."
Kirk frowned. "Like cutting a hole through it for us
to ride in?"
"Precisely," Spock said.
"Would ten photon torpedoes be better?"
"If they are concentrated," Spock said, "at the
exact point and time that the wave would hit us."
"Spock, you're brilliant," Kirk said.
He leapt out of his chair. "Chekov, arm ten
photon torpedoes and wait for Mister Spock's
mark."
"Armed and ready, sir," Chekov said.
Spock had returned to his chair. He was
peering into the scope again, his fingers flying over the
keys in front of him. "We have twenty
seconds," he said.
Kirk paced the area behind the helm. Twenty
seconds suddenly felt like an eternity. A moment
ago they had seemed like nothing. He stopped beside his
chair and punched the
intercom.
"Scotty?"
"She's a stubborn wee beastie, Captain."
"I'll take that as a no." He had hoped the
warp would come back, but now that it wasn't, he had
to do something else.
He hit the shipwide comm button. "This is the
captain speaking. Brace yourselves. This last wave will
be greater than anything we've
experienced. 210
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Hold on tight and do not move until the
bumping ends. Captain out."
"The wave will hit in ten seconds," Spock
said.
Prescott slid wider the nearest console.
Uhura wrapped her boots around the base of her
chair. Chekov gripped the sides of his console.
"Scatty?" Kirk said into his intercom.
"I'm sorry, sir," Scotty said,
the exasperation clear in his voice. "but I canna do
it. She's taken too great a beating."
"Five seconds," Spock said. His chair was
all the way against the console. But he hadn't grabbed
anything yet.
Neither had Kirk.
Kirk returned to his chair and gripped the
arms. He would rather have joined Prescott under the
console, but he had to stay here to monitor everything.
"On my mark, Mister Chekov," Spock said.
Some crewmen had also crawled under the consoles.
Kirk almost reprimanded them, but then decided against
it. He didn't really need them at the moment
anyway. Sulu followed
Uhura's example, and wrapped his legs around
his chair.
"Fire!" Spock said.
The ship rocked as the photon torpedoes fired.
Then the wave hit.
It felt as if the Enterprise had slammed
into an interstellar wall. The ship rocked forward,
then stopped, before propelling backward and bouncing
along the surface of something Kirk couldn't see.
The lights went off, the computer began reciting
211
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
damage statistics, and the screen went dead.
Sparks flew from the consoles and someone screamed.
Kirk hung on to the chair as hard as he could, but
he didn't stand much of a chance of staying in it.
Chekov flew past him, twirling in the air like a
top.
The ship felt like a bucking horse. Kirk
rode his chair for the first few major jolts and then it
moved down when he was moving up.
He lost his grip on the arms and soared through the
air, as he had done as a boy on his second
riding lesson.
Time seemed to stop, yet the bridge was a blur
of noise and darkness and sparks around him.
He slammed into the navigation console, and felt a
pain so deep that his body couldn't encompass it
all.
Something was wrong.
His mind wanted to leave.
But it couldn't.
He'd fallen before and remained conscious.
He reached for the console, in an attempt to stand
up.
Then everything went black.
McCoally WAS IN the cargo bay.
The elderly man in front of him seemed to have
suffered the Tauteean form of a heart attack.
McCoy had somehow kept the man
from dying, but he wasn't sure how long that would
continue. He was still clueless about Tauteean internal
physiology. He had sent for one of the Tauteean
doctors, and hoped she would know what to do.
A young Tauteean woman named Dicnar was
preparing the next patient, quizzing her about the
various pains, seeing if the emergency could wait.
She wasn't as good as Nutri had been, but she was
working out just fine.
The noise and stench here was as
overpowering as it had been everywhere else. Only
here, the noise 213
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch came from the moans of the injured, and the stench
was that of damaged and rotting flesh.
Some of these wounds had suppurated for over a
week. McCoy shuddered to think of it.
He had made the cargo bay an
emergency
facility. He hadn't been able to work in the
shuttle bay, where a large number of this new group
had arrived. And there was no way he could make it
to sickbay. The patients in here were seriously ill,
and might not even survive until the next day.
He had to tend to them first.
Back to rule number one of emergency care.
But he wasn't thinking about his patients at the
moment. He was worrying. The captain's voice had
just come over the intercom, telling everyone to hold on.
Something had gone
terribly wrong. They should have jumped to warp and
been away from the subspace waves of destruction.
But obviously they hadn't.
And except for his assistant, McCoy was the
only mobile person in the entire bay. He
couldn't secure these people. There wasn't even a
place to secure himself.
Earlier, security guards had tied off the
barrels that Scotty kept down here, but McCoy
wasn't even certain those ties would hold. He
needed a good old-fashioned forcefield, but since the
lights had just flickered and dimmed down here, he
doubted there was enough power for that, either.
He glanced around. He needed something to hang on
to.
"The support beam, Dicnar," he said, and
hurried over the supine patients to the middle of the
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
bay. Dicnar was right behind him. They clung to the
support beam like prisoners tied to a sailing mast.
Then the deck came alive under his feet.
A huge rumbling shook everything, and the deck
bucked like a blanket being flapped out over a bed.
Up.
Down.
Up.
Then down hard again.
His patients flew like leaves in a violent
wind-storm. Dicnar was screaming, and McCoy
watched in horror as the fragile, horribly
ill Tauteeans slammed into each other, into walls,
and onto the floor.
He would lose them.
He would lose them all.
Then the floor bucked particularly hard, yanking
him loose and tossing him into the air. He tried
to regain his balance, but the effort was
futile. He wrapped his arms around his head, brought
his knees up to protect his chest, and watched the
ground careen toward him.
He landed on top of a Tauteean who had a
severed leg. McCoy could feel the man's bones
breaking. Or maybe they were McCoy's bones.
He didn't want to think about that.
Two more hard, sharp shakes that sent him into the air
again and then the deck became a solid place again under
him.
He waited for the next shock, but it didn't come.
Slowly, making sure he still had all his bones
intact, he stood. He was going to be sore for
days, 215
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
but at least he was alive. He wagered that was a
great deal more than he could say for some of his patients
around him.
The man he landed on had gone white with pain. His
remaining leg was twisted and
flattened.
But he wasn't the only one.
What had once been neat rows of the
desperately sick Tauteeans was now
a jumble of flesh and bedding and clothes. He couldn't
tell in many places where one patient started and
another left off.
A few feet in front of him, Dicnar pulled
herself to her feet andwitha dazed look, glanced around.
"Dicnar," McCoy said over the slowly growing
moaning sounds filling the room. "Are you all right?"
She nodded, turning to face him. She had hit
her head. Above her right eye a large purple
knot was welling up.
"Stay right there," he said. He quickly glanced
around until he saw his medical tricorder near the
pillar he had been originally holding. He grabbed
the tricorder, and by stepping over a few
unconscious Tauteeans, he was at Dicnar's
side.
"You'll live," he said, shutting off his scanner
after just a moment. "Although you may regret it when the
headache hits. Think you can help me here?"
She nodded, then put her hand to the side of her
face. The movement must have hurt.
McCoy had to take her mind off it, just as he
had to take his mind off the throbbing in his knees.
2 tilde 6
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"Good." McCoy glanced around. A few more of the
Tauteeans were getting to their feet. They all
glanced at him as if asking him what they should do. It
was so overwhelming. He knew how bad this room
looked, and this room was just one of many.
Now, instead of all the old injuries, there were a
series of new ones as well.
And the lights were still dim.
The ship was in trouble, too.
The barrels had remained in place. The
bodies had piled on the left side of the cargo
bay, just beneath the barrels, leading McCoy to think that
the ship had tilted somehow, had lost part of her
internal stabiliser. The right side of the room was
bare.
"Dicnar," he said, "let's start up in the right
corner and straighten this mess out. Let's see what
we have here."
Now.
Now that things had gotten worse.
He would be at this for days. Why didn't
Starfleet listen to him? Why weren't there more medical
personnel on starships? It wasn't as if a
trip into space was a walk in the park.
"Dr. McCoy to the bridge," the
intercom said, barely audible as the moaning in the
room grew. It sounded like Sulu's voice, but he
couldn't tell.
He glared at the faraway voice. He was
needed here. Here, dammit.
"Go," Dicnar said. "I'll start here."
Even she understood Starfleet protocol, even
though she'd only been on the ship for a few 2 1
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
minutes. The doctor had to treat the bridge
staff first. If he didn't, the ship's most
important personnel might die and leave them
all
stranded.
"I'll be back as soon as I can," he said.
But she had already turned and bent over the
survivor closest to the right corner.
He headed for the bridge, stepping over moaning people
as he went.
This was impossible. If it was this bad here, no
telling what the rest of the ship looked like.
And who was injured or dying on the bridge. He
didn't want to think about those
possibilities at all.
The door from the cargo bay opened onto a scene
of total destruction. Ceiling tiles had fallen
all over and the hundreds of Tauteean survivors
who had littered the halls had been tossed everywhere.
Many were getting back to their feet and trying to help
their friends, but others weren't so lucky.
He slowly worked his way up the hall, helping
those he could help quickly. Whoever was hurt on the
bridge was just going to have to wait a little longer. This
situation was impossible.
Just impossible.
THE FARRAGUT FELT like a refugee leaving
the site of a thousand-year war. It wouldn't have been
so bad, Bogle thought, if it weren't for that last
group of survivors. Kirk had sent over more than
Bogle expected, and there'd been no room for them
in the lower decks.
He had to put them on the bridge.
He had forgotten how badly people smelled when
they'd been locked up together in a small research
station with no running water. He had
surreptitiously ordered the
air-filtration system on high, but it hadn't
helped much.
No wonder Kirk had been concerned about his
environmental systems. Even if an extra thousand
people could have breathed the air, the systems wouldn't have been
able to handle the stench.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
Bogle gripped the arms of his command chair,
alternately cursing Kirk and feeling
half-relieved that he had helped the man. Not
helping would have haunted Bogle's sleep for years.
The difference between him and Kirk was
that Bogle followed the rules, even when they
gave him nightmares.
Kirk didn't.
But in this case, Kirk had an argument that
Starfleet would probably buy. And Kirk had
made the decision. Bogle hadn't. But he would, in
his private logs and in his off-the-record
communications with the admirals, make it clear that he
never wanted to work with James Kirk again.
Their styles were too different.
And the next time, Bogle might end up
fighting Kirk instead of solving whatever problem was
at hand.
"Captain," Richard Lee said, standing up from his
scope. Bogle hated it when Lee used that tone.
It meant something else had gone wrong. "The
Enterprise didn't jump to warp."
"What?" Bogle asked. He swiveled his
chair and nearly hit an elderly Tauteean
woman in the head. Of all the stupid things to do.
Kirk should have known better. No one could surf that
wave, not even that damn James T. Kirk.
What was Kirk thinking?
Bogle swiveled his chair so that his feet were
nowhere near the woman's head. She, for her part,
moved closer to the railing, and looked at him with
terror.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"Are we far enough out to be safe for the moment?"
Bogle asked.
"Yes, sir," Lee said. "At this distance it will
take the wave almost a day to reach us. And its
intensity will have decreased by almost fifty percent."
"All stop," Bogle said. He got out of his
chair, and stepped past three survivors.
They gathered their legs up close, and watched him as
if he were some lumbering giant[\*thorngg'wh, from their
perspective, he probably was.
He stopped beside Lee, who was again
looking into his scope.
"Do you know what happened?"
"They've gone to full impulse power," Lee
said. "It seems they're trying to outrun the wave."
"They can't do that at impulse," Bogle said.
"Why didn't they jump to warp?"
"Maybe something broke down," Lee said,
glancing up at the captain. "It does happen, and
usually at the worst times. And their ship took quite a
beating doing that rescue operation."
Bogle nodded. That would seem more logical.
Kirk might take risks that Bogle didn't
agree with, but he never seemed to take unreasonable
risks.
At least, not with people's lives.
With people's careers, maybe, but not their lives.
"How long do they have?" Bogle asked.
"Ten seconds to impact," Lee said.
Ten seconds.
Ten seconds wasn't even long enough to
make a decision, let alone figure
out a way to assist them.
Come on, Jim.
He didn't dare die now. Bogle didn't
think he 221
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
could be nearly as convincing as Kirk in
discussing the reasons behind all the Tauteean
survivors aboard.
Besides, if the Enterprise was destroyed, the
fleet would lose one of its best ships.
"Sir, they're powering up photon torpedoes."
Bogle laughed in spite of the situation. "Kirk
just won't say die. He's going to blast a hole
in the wave."
Lee stood, but kept his face pressed to the
scope. "They fired ten torpedoes at
point-blank range!"
"Well?" Bogle said, almost fearing the news.
"Did they make it?"
Lee didn't respond. He shifted from foot
to foot, staring into the screen.
The rest of the bridge crew leaned forward.
The survivors merely looked confused.
Bogle resisted the urge to rub his hands
together nervously.
This last was one strain too many in an
unbelievable day. The second time they had stood
on the sidelines and watched the
Enterprise in a scrape.
Come on, Jim.
Finally Lee straightened away from the scope.
He was grinning.
"The wave is past them," he said. "They seem
dead in space, but they are still in one piece."
"Yessss!" Bogle said, clenching a fist and
shaking it. The rest of the crew grinned too. Bogle
cleared his throat, tugged his shirt into place, and
resumed his dignified-captain pose as if he
hadn't just acted like a schoolboy whose team had won
the championship.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"Hail the Enterprise, Gustavus."
"Aye, sir," she said. She moved her hand across
the communications board. "I'm getting no
response."
"Two Klingon vessels are dropping out of warp
near us, sir," Rodriguez said.
Bogle turned to Lee. "Can we get
back to the Enterprise?"
Lee shook his head. "No, sir, not for a few
days at least. They're inside that expanding sphere
of the subspace wave. The same thing would happen to us
if we tried to go back that just happened to them. We have
to wait until the intensity of the wave has diminished
by a factor of fifty at least."
"We're being hailed by the Klingons,"
Gustavus said.
"On screen," Bogle said. He turned,
narrowly missing the feet of a Tauteean infant.
The child squalled and crawled back toward its mother.
Bogle barely managed to face the screen before
KerDaq's image appeared.
"It seems your friend Kirk has gotten himself in
trouble again," KerDaq said.
Bogle nodded. "It seems that way."
"Are you foolish enough to try to return?" KerDaq
asked.
"There is nothing we can do at the moment," Bogle
said. "We need to proceed to the starbase and unload
these survivors."
"I agree," KerDaq said. "Then we shall
return to help Kirk."
""We"?" Bogle blurted out the word
in spite of himself. He couldn't really believe what
he had just 223
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
heard. But he was facing a Klingon who was
temporarily his ally. He should have been more
tactful.
KerDaq snorted. "Kirk saved my life when
the wave smashed my ship. Returning is the
honorable thing to do."
It was, but Bogle hadn't realized the
Klingons would feel that way. There was so little that he
really knew about them. "We'll rendezvous after we
drop off the survivors on Starbase Eleven,"
Bogle said.
"I shall leave you a time and place," KerDaq
said. His image winked off the screen.
"I was supposed to say that," Bogle muttered.
But it didn't matter. They had agreed. And if
KerDaq understood the word "honor" the way Bogle
did, they would set up a rendezvous and return for the
Enterprise.
"Mr. Rodriguez," Bogle said. "Full
speed to Starbase Eleven. Engage when ready."
Then Bogle returned to his chair and
sank into it heavily. Lee stepped past a group of
survivors to stand beside Bogle. "Well, Mister
Lee," Bogle said, "when Kirk's involved, the
universe is never a dull place."
Lee laughed. "I think that's an
understatement, Captain."
"You know, Mr. Lee," Bogle said, smiling
to himself, "I believe you're right."
PRESCOTT WAS TUCKED under the
console, her knees against her chin and her arms
trapped at her sides. She had braced herself as
well as she could, but even that was not well enough. She
was nauseated and
terrified and angry at herself for the first two
emotions, and for causing this mess in the first place.
The ship was rocking like a Tauteean Silksail
in a hurricane. People were being tossed all over the
ship. Lieutenant Uhura fell against
Prescott's console. Mister Sulu tumbled off
his chair. Mister Chekov flew through the air like a
ball thrown by a child.
Only Mister Spock held his ground, as if
by magic.
The clang and clatter was terrifying, and beneath 225
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
it was the rumble of the ship herself, as if she were
screaming in protest.
Even the moon's breakup had not been this
violent. They had said this would be worse, but she
hadn't imagined anything this bad.
Apparently her imagination hadn't been good enough.
Then Captain James Kirk flew out of his
chair. He looked graceful for a moment,
tumbling feet over forehead, as if he had
intended to fall all along. The illusion was
shattered, though, when he slammed into Mister
Chekov's console. He brought a hand up,
moaned, and collapsed.
The shaking stopped.
All except the shaking inside.
Lieutenant Uhura stood first. She staggered as
if she couldn't quite get her balance, then made her
way back to her chair. Mister Chekov moaned and
grabbed his arm. Mister Spock
helped one of the crewmen out from under a nearby
console.
No one, apparently, had noticed
Captain James Kirk.
Prescott crawled quickly on hands and knees
under the rail and down to where Captain
James Kirk lay sprawled beside the navigation
console. He had a massive cut along the top of
his head which seemed to be bleeding a river of dark red
blood.
Mister Chekov, still clutching his arm, hurried
down the stairs beside her. He knelt near the
console, let go of his arm, and pressed his hand against
Captain James Kirk's neck.
"He's alive," Mister Chekov said. ""But
I don't know for how long."
Tl1Every RINGS OF TAUTEE
Mister Sulu punched a comm-link button
while Prescott and Mister Chekov worked to stop
the blood from flowing. "Dr. McCoy to the
bridge," Mister Sulu said.
Behind her Prescott heard Spock say,
"Mister Scott, I need a status report."
Obviously this crew was well trained. Even with their
leader injured, they went on.
Captain James Kirk moaned, but didn't
regain consciousness. She carefully
eased his head into her lap and used her sleeve to stop
the blood flow from the gash on his head. She had
reached an understanding with this man. They had communicated
one leader to another. He had helped her. She would
be able to move forward because of him.
He couldn't die.
Not here, not now.
Not after they'd been through so much.
Mister Sulu dropped down beside them with what
appeared to be a device similar to the one Dr.
Leonard McCoy used. Mister Sulu ran it
quickly over Captain James Kirk, then used
another setting on the device to stop the blood
flow. The cut stopped bleeding and then closed as if
by miracle.
Then Mister Sulu turned to Spock. "He's
got a slight concussion. I don't know how serious
it is, but he'll live." Then Mister Sulu
smiled. "I'm just glad I'm not going to have the
headache."
Prescott felt relief run through her. These people
were like magicians. Their technology was so advanced
that it was beyond her.
Everything they did was a miracle.
Including saving their leader as if his
injury were 227
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
routine instead of life-threatening. A Tauteean
who had suffered that much blood loss away from a
medical facility would probably have died.
"Return to your posts," Spock said. "I need
a ship's status report, since Mister Scott
is not responding."
Just then the comm line buzzed. "Scott
to bridge."
"Go ahead, Mister Scott," Spock said.
Prescott marveled at the man's calm even in the
face of this disaster. Didn't he have any emotions?
"The old girl took quite a pounding, Mister
Spock," Mister Scott said. Mister Scott's
voice sounded excited and he seemed winded. "All
engines are off-line and will be for some time. She's
suffered so much damage, I doubt I can fix her in
a week. But she made it, Mister Spock. She
survived just fine. She's a marvelous lassie,
she is."
"Yes, she is," Spock said dryly, as if
he were humoring Mister Scott. "What is the
status of lifesupport? Our bridge
lights are still dim."
"Well, sir, the bridge lights and
lifesupport are two separate systems, even
though they're part of the environmental controls."
"I realise this, Mister Scott," Spock
said. "That is why I specifically asked about
lifesupport."
"All decks have full lifesupport,"
Mister Scott said, as if it were obvious.
Prescott grinned, and put her head down so that no
one could see her. "And structurally the Enterprise
is fine. We're just stuck here for a while."
"Thank you, Mister Scott," Spock said.
He 228
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
punched the intercom button as if it had
annoyed him.
That was the first hint of emotion that Prescott had
seen him display.
"It seems," Spock said, turning and glancing
down at Captain James Kirk in
Prescott's arms, "that we beat the odds again."
Prescott looked up at Spock. "I think
beating the odds would be an understatement for me and my
people."
Spock's eyebrow lifted, as he were actually
calculating the odds she had just mentioned. For all she
knew, he was.
She didn't want to know what they were.
And she wasn't sure she ever wanted to.
THE BLACKNESS SLOWLY EASED,
replaced by light and a stabbing pain in the side of his
head.
Kirk moaned, then blinked[\*thorngg'or
attempted to. His eyes felt gummed shut.
His ribs ached. He was still sprawled on the
deck[\*thorngg'he recognised its hardness against
his back[\*thorngg'b someone was holding his head.
Cra-dling it, in fact. The fingers on the side of
his face were as light as feathers.
He wanted to stay in the darkness, but he couldn't.
He had things to do. He couldn't quite remember what,
but he knew he would when he opened his eyes.
He moaned again, and blinked. This time his eyelids
fluttered.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
Blurry faces hovered above him, and
behind them light. Painful light.
He blinked again and his eyes focused on
Prescott's tiny features. She smiled.
"Welcome back, Captain James Kirk."
"About time you woke up." McCoy's loud,
grating voice seemed to echo around the pain inside his
head.
"Ow," Kirk said.
McCoy laughed. That sound was even more
unpleasant than his voice. Why hadn't Kirk
noticed that before?
"The headache will go away shortly," McCoy
said.
"Could you please lower your voice, Doctor?"
Kirk asked.
Above him Prescott laughed. Maybe the
doctor hadn't really been talking that loud.
The headache receded a bit. The rest of his
memory gathered together. He remembered the
subspace wave. "Am I the only one who was
injured?" he asked.
"I wish," McCoy said.
Kirk pushed himself into a sitting position with the
help of Prescott. "The wave. Did it
damage the ship?"
He barely got the words out before the room spun and
he had to close his eyes against the pain. Then, after a
moment it eased and he opened them again. Now the room
was only
spinning slowly. And as he focused, it stopped.
He had been Iying on the floor near the
naviga231
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
lion station. Prescott was sitting beside him, and
McCoy knelt above him.
"We survived the wave, Captain," Spock
said from somewhere beyond Kirk's range of vision.
"Well, if he's asking about the ship, he's
fine," McCoy said. He peered at Kirk. "I
have about five hundred patients who need me and it's
clear you don't anymore." He stood and headed
for the lift door. He stopped just inside a nd stuck his
head back out. "Captain, I'd tell you
to report to sickbay, but I don't have room for you.
And I'd tell you to rest in your quarters, but we
don't have room for you there either. So against doctor's
best judgment, you can stay on duty."
McCoy stepped back and the turbolift doors
whooshed closed over the sound of light
laughter.
Prescott and Sulu both helped Kirk to his
feet and to his command chair. Sitting on the hard
padding hurt even worse this time. He had to have
bruises over half his body.
"How long was I out?" he asked, bringing a hand
to his forehead. A lump had grown there.
"About an hour, sir," Sulu said. "It took
Dr. McCoy that long to reach the bridge."
Kirk raised his head gingerly. He remembered
the tossing and bucking.
Barely.
"Is it that bad below?"
Sulu nodded. "Yes, sir."
Kirk forced himself to take two deep breaths, then
swiveled slowly to face Spock. Might as well
get back to work.
Doctor's orders.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"What's our status, Mister Spock?"
Spock nodded at him, and Kirk thought he saw
the ghost of a smile flit across Spock's lips.
Then Spock clasped his hands behind his back and
looked as serious as ever.
"Lifesupport is fully functional,
Captain. The hull came through the event without
major damage. All shields are at forty
percent. Both the warp engines and impulse power are
off-line."
"For how long?)"'
"To quote Chief Engineer Scott, sir,
"We ain't going nowhere fast." I believe those
were his exact words."
For a moment Kirk couldn't believe what he had
just heard. Then he started laughing. "I would hope
so, Mr. Spock."
And the rest of the bridge crew laughed too. Their
laughter made Kirk laugh harder. And the more he
laughed, the more his head hurt. But it was a good hurt
this time.
Captain's log, supplemental
The Enterprise has remained in this position for
almost two days while Chief Engineer Scott and
his crew effect repairs. The ship was damaged in
a huge subspace wave created
when the Enterprise, the Farragut, and two
Klingon vessels destroyed the rift in the
Tautee system.
The Klingons, led by KerDaq, rescued
survivors of
the Tautee disaster and, following the
suggestion of Captain Kelly Bogle of the
U.s.s. Farragut, took them to Starbase
11. Then the Klingon ships and the Farragut, now
empty, returned to the Enterprise. 233
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
Bogle tells me this was KerDaq's idea.
If I had heard that from anyone but Bogle, I would
think it hyperbole. But Bogle does
not exaggerate, especially when it comes
to Klingons.
I do not expect a friendly interaction with
KerDaq, but I am surprised at the amount
of courtesy the Klingons have shown so
far. If this incident is any indication of the
future, the Federation and the Klingons
may well be able to work together
someday.
The damage sustained during that last
wave affected the warp engines most
severely. Chief Engineer Scott is working
to bring the warp drive back up on-line.
The Farragut's science officer,
Richard
Lee, is assisting in the final stages of
getting the warp drive on-line. I am also
transferring half the Tauteean refugees to the
Farragut to give us more room on the
return to Starbase 11.
Between the four ships, we managed to
rescue over two thousand survivors. Most
of those beamed up to the Enterprise
were wounded. Several more were injured
in the impact with the final subspace
wave. It should be noted that Dr. Leonard
McCoy and his staff have done an
outstanding job over the last forty-eight hours.
Working in primitive conditions,
with limited resources, McCoy and his
team saved almost every life in their care. I
recommend that a special
commendation be attached to McCoy's
file.
Prescott, the leader of one group of
Tauteean survivors, was instrumental in
helping us close the rift in space. She and the
remaining Tautee survivors 234
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
will be treated on Starbase 11 and then will be sent
with supplies and Eederation personnel to settle a
new world. I expect in a few hundred years
the
Tauteeans will be full and proud members of the
Federation.
"Captain." Uhura's voice broke through
Kirk's concentration on his log. He punched the
Off button and turned to her.
She sat in her usual position, hand to her ear,
legs tucked behind her chair. Her eyes were wide,
as if the message had startled her. "KerDaq is
hailing you."
"Put it on screen," Kirk said. He
swiveled his chair so that he faced the screen
directly.
KerDaq sat in his own command chair, arms
crossed, steel bracelets glinting in the odd
green light. "Kirk, I see you have found a way
to survive yet again."
Kirk laughed. "I do my best." Then he let
the smile ease off his face. He had to handle this
next carefully. But he had to say it, even if he
did not know the Klingon way. "I am glad that you
returned to help us. Thank you."
KerDaq spit in disgust on the floor. "You
saved my crew when the subspace wave
destroyed our ship. I did not return out of
kindness. I owed you, Kirk. Now the debt is
paid." He smiled "Besides, I would not give you the
honor of dying to save thousands. Only a Klingon
deserves such honor."
"Understood," Kirk said, smiling.
KerDaq smiled, too.
Dean Wesiey Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
Prescott stepped forward beside Kirk and looked
up for permission to speak. He glanced at her and
nodded.
"KerDaq," Prescott said, "my people thank you,
too."
KerDaq leaned forward until his face filled the
screen. "You are sentimental fools. You will fit
well with the Federation. It too is full of
sentimental fools."
Then the screen went dark.
"He cut off communication, sir," Uhura said.
"I gathered that, Lieutenant."
The screen flickered back to life to show
the two Klingon cruisers turning and jumping to warp.
"What did I say wrong?" Prescott said.
"I hope I didn't[\*thorn]"
Kirk laughed and touched her thin, frail shoulder.
"You did nothing wrong. It was just the Klingon way of
saying, "You're welcome.""
Prescott shook her head. "This is a strange
universe we live in. It will take some getting
used to it."
"Yes," Kirk said, dropping down into his
chair. "Yes, it will."
THE CARGO HOLD would never be the same
for McCoy and he half wished he'd never have
to return to it. The Tauteean survivors had been
off the Enterprise now for three days and the ship had
been undergoing repairs at
Starbase Eleven. And he had been spending most
of the last three days working on the Starbase with the
medical staff, tending to what seemed to be thousands of
wounded survivors. He hadn't realised he could be
so tired and still move. Somehow his body wasn't quite
ready to rest yet.
As he approached the cargo bay he could
hear laughing. The last time he'd been in this
corridor it had been littered with the injured
survivors. He tried to force that picture out of his
mind, but didn't have much luck.
That picture would be with him for a long, long time.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
The door to the cargo bay were locked open in
front of him and he stepped inside. Since the
survivors had left, the bay had been cleaned and
he couldn't even tell it had been used for a huge
sickbay just a few short days before. There was no
blood and no smell of rotting flesh.
No injured bodies.
No ruined legs.
No gangrene.
The cargo bay as it had been before McCoy had
even heard of Tautee.
A large monitor was in place between two huge
machines again and an ensign wore the helmet.
Scatty had his projectors working again. And it
looked as if, even with all the time spent getting the
Enterprise back in shape, he'd also managed
to find the time to get his projectors working
right. How that man did it, McCoy would never know.
"Come in, Doctor," Kirk yelled from across the
bay, smiling and motioning for McCoy to join the party.
"We're celebrating a mission wellcompleted."
"Actually, Captain," Spock said from a
position halfway between Kirk and McCoy,
"there are still many items of business that must be
attended to."
Kirk waved Spock's statement away.
"Mister Spock, there must always be a point where a
mission is declared finished."
Spock frowned, obviously from the illogic of
Kirk's statement and McCoy found his spirits
suddenly starting to lift. Anything that would annoy
Mister Spock and break through that stone-like exterior was
fine by him.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
About twenty people filled the area where the cargo deck
left off end Scotty's huge machines took
up. Sulu and Chekov were laughing about something with two
women ensigns from the starbase. Scatty was complaining
about a table someone had set too close to one of his
machines. On the table sat a large cake and a
vast supply of wine. Someone had spared
no expense for this party, that was for sure.
Kirk was standing near the table. He laughed at
Spock's reaction, then turned back to a discussion
he had obviously been having with Captain Bogle
of the Farragut. McCoy was
amazed Bogle was even speaking to Kirk after
Kirk dumped all those extra survivors on
him. Kirk and Bogle had exchanged harsh words
about gambling with lives and being too caught up in
rules. But Admiral Hoffman had pointed out that
both sides were important.
And had to work together.
Then she had settled it all by siding with Kirk
on the Prime Directive issue, but giving
Bogle a commendation for staying within Starfleet
guidelines.
So both men shook hands, buried the hatchet and
participated in all other cliches. Then they had
played an all-night game of poker, with Kirk
bluffing and Bogle playing strictly by the rules.
Then, from what McCoy understood, Bogle had
gone in the next day and asked to be
assigned to the vacant seat on Starileet's
Plans and Policy commission. If his transfer was
accepted, McCoy knew Bogle would work
hard to tighten up the Prime 239
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
Directive. In fact, McCoy bet that after
this incident, it would be Bogle's main focus.
Who knew how tight the rule would be in eighty or
so years.
But, for the moment, Kirk and Bogle seemed to be
friends again. As much as those two very different men could be
friends.
McCoy had heard all of this while he had been
working with the survivors. If he never saw an
infected wound again he would be extremely happy.
He was glad that the starbaseshad more medical
personnel than a starship, or else he would never
have gotten any sleep.
But the most important thing was that the Tauteean
race survived with enough people to start over on a new
planet.
McCoy took a drink offered by the science
officer of the Farragut, Mister Lee.
"Mister Spock," Scotty said, loud enough for
everyone to hear. "How would you like to be the very first to try
my new course?"
"Golf is not a logical game,
Mister Scott," Spock said.
"It is if you're from Scotland, laddy,"
Scott said and everyone laughed.
For a moment the buzz of conversation filled the cargo
deck. McCoy moved over to where Chief Engineer
Scott stood beside one of his machines like a father
watching over a young child.
"Doctor," Scotty said. "What do ya think
now?" He waved his hand at the beautiful green showing
on the monitor. There were even a few white clouds
floating in the deep blue sky.
THE RINGS OF TAUTEE
"Wonderful," McCoy said, really meaning it.
"But how'd you get it to work?"
Scotty pointed to a brown-haired man
standing twenty feet away beside the other
projector. "Mister Projeff Ellis, the
chief engineer of the Farragut, helped me. With him
on one machine and me on the other, we got the
lassies to finally balance. And ya know, he agrees
that someday this might be possible without a helmet."
"Great," McCoy said, staring at the monitor
full of an expanse of green grass and trees and
blue sky. Maybe Scotty had a
point. Maybe this new invention would be good to have around.
As long as people didn't take it too seriously.
"And you know, Doctor," Scott went on.
"Projeff loves golf as much as I do.
Says he plays every time he gets a chance. He
must have Scotsman in his blood."
"That he must, Scotty," McCoy said.
"All right, everyone," Kirk's voice drowned
out the background buzz of talking and
laughing. "It's time for a toast." He held up
his glass and waited until everyone found one and was
quiet.
Lieutenant Uhura handed McCoy a fresh
glass of wine and McCoy held it aloft,
waiting for the toast.
"To Captain Bogle and his fine crew," Kirk
said, his voice ringing through the room. "To my wonderful
crew. To the Klingons for helping. And most of all
to the Tauteean survivors. May they flourish in
their new home."
With that he and Captain Bogle touched
glasses and drank.
Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn
Rusch
"Hear! Hear!" the crowd shouted, raising their
glasses together in toast.
With that sip of smooth-tasting wine, McCoy could
feel the ghosts of the injured and dead survivors being
pushed back into the past where they belonged. He could
feel his body relaxing and the exhaustion creeping
up. Billions of lives had been lost in the
Tautee system, but
somehow, he found a sense of fulfillment in the
fact that the Enterprise, the Farragut, and the
Klingon ships had saved enough lives for the Tautee
race to continue. He felt good that he was a part of
such a rescue.
But it was now time to do as Scotty had done with the
cargo bay. McCoy had to clear the decks and
move on. Besides, he had a medical experiment he
needed to finish. Right after he took a very long nap.
McCoy glanced out over at the golf course on
the monitor between the machines. What a
peaceful place it seemed. He felt as if he
wanted to just walk out there and keep walking. Maybe,
when he took his next leave, he'd play a round
of golf.
"Now," Kirk said, his voice carrying over the
talking. "I expect this party to last all
night."
Spock gave the captain a sour look and
McCoy laughed. The longer it lasted, the better.
That sounded perfect. Even Spock's doleful
expression was perfect.
Especially Spock's doleful expression.
McCoy grinned. This was the best party he could
remember attending in a long, long time.
242 When Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine
Kathryn Rusch met at a writing workshop in
New Mexico, they already had a few publishing
credentials to their names. Dean had sold over a
hundred poems and short stories to The Twilight
Zone, Night Cry, and Writers of the Future,
Vol. 1. Kris had sold more nonfiction than
she could count and stories to Aboriginal SF and
Amazing Stories. Their writing careers flourished
after their romance started. Dean has sold over
sixty short stories and seven novels, including
Carnage in New York and Laying the Music
to Rest. Kris doesn't count the short-story
sales any more than she-counted the nonfiction, but she
has sold eleven novels. The most recent are
The Fey Sacrifice (bantam) and The
Devil's Churn (dell).
Dean and Kris collaborated on a publishing
company, Pulphouse Publishing. That joint
venture has brought them one World Fantasy
Award, another nomination, a Hugo nomination, and a
house full of books (including numerous copies
of The Best of Pulphouse, from St. Martin's
Press). Kris has stopped editing for
Pulphouse, and now edits The Magazine of
Fantasy and Science Fiction (for which she won the
Hugo award in 1994). Dean publishes all the
Pulphouse products and edits Pulphouse A
Fiction Magazine.
In 1991, they started to collaborate on
fiction. "Model Lover," their first attempt,
appeared in Ghosttide. Another collaborative
story appeared in the Twilight Zone Anthology
from DAW. Their most recent collaboration is in the
Star Trek. Deep Space Nine series The
Long Night. Pocket Books also published their
collaborative novels The Escape (in the
Voyager series) and, under the pen name Sandy
Schofield, The Big Game (in the Deep
Space Nine series). They, under their own names and
under Sandy's name, have several more novels in the works.
tilde - -- -- B- -- -- tilde
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