Broken Bow - Diane Carey [8]
The debate was over. Forrest had found what might be his last tidbit of resolve and made a decision. Archer tried not to puff up too much. Not too much.
The female was watching him. Well, maybe puff a little more.
Oh—there they went. The renowned ultrasophisticated civilized nonprimitive Vulcan turn-and-stalk-in-a-huff. Archer almost smiled, but managed to bury it. Score one for the amoebas.
Forrest waited until they were gone, then winked at Leonard and spoke to Archer. “I had a feeling their approach wouldn’t sit too well with you, John. Don’t screw this up.”
Archer restrained his comment. The last part must be meant as a joke, because nobody would say it to a captain and be serious. Maybe Forrest had invited him here just to provoke this very outcome. Possible? Was there some deck officer in the old boy yet? Better give him the benefit of all doubts and not fiddle with success.
Archer just smiled and pretended to get all messages.
As Forrest, Leonard, and the rather bewildered Williams exited the ICU window chamber, muttering a discreet continuation of the whole argument, Archer moved to the glass partition and rapped a knuckle on the window. The alien physician and a couple of nurses flinched, looked at the equipment, then noticed Archer motioning.
He gestured to the alien. Psst. Come here.
The young alien paused. Me?
The labyrinth glowed dimly with mysteries and technology provided by even more mysterious presences. The room was bisected by a huge archway that contained unexplained energies, a rippling barrier between here and elsewhere, unidentified, a crossroads between the concrete here and the vague there.
Silik stood on one side, in the here, at the podium that sent pulses of energy through the archway to identify him. He was Suliban, a senior of the Cabal, here reduced to childhood by the being who floated on the other side of the archway. The creature there was as unidentified as the place from which he broadcast himself. They were a mere arm’s length away, but they were separated by the ages. Silik felt the privilege of his position eaten up by the smallness of his power.
“Where’s Klaang?” the milky being in the portal spoke. There was a preecho that obscured the creature’s words. Even his form was obscure, though he had a head and arms and legs like Silik, like most of the creatures who had achieved intelligence in this galaxy. But perhaps that creature wasn’t in this galaxy. Anything could be true, and Silik was at this person’s disposal for facts or deceptions. As he stood here, a lifetime’s achievements in the Suliban Helix were subordinated to this glowing individual beyond the archway.
“The humans have him,” Silik provided bluntly.
“Did you lose anyone else?”
“Two of my soldiers were killed.” His jaw grated tight at this report. “One of them was a friend. Can you prevent it?”
Coldly, the creature said, “Our agreement doesn’t provide for correcting mistakes. Recover the evidence.”
The preecho was both intoxicating and maddening. These ghostlike creatures had all the advantages. They had technology, which they dangled before the Suliban, a chance for enhancements far beyond the foreseeable future of technology. They wanted to tamper with things. The Suliban were their conduit. Silik wanted what they could give, but he disliked catering so much to them without any return of respect.
What choice did he have? They had all the power, and all of time on their side.
“I will,” Silik said. “I promise you. When will we speak again?”
The figure beyond the archway seemed to enjoy this part of their conversation whenever it came. He liked speaking of time as a plaything, as his pet. Silik could only stand by and be told yet again what he had heard before.
“Don’t be concerned with when,” the ghost said.
And the creature vanished, without the slightest hint of ceremony. The radiant energy subsided to a simple haze. The archway disappeared.
Once again Silik was alone in the labyrinth, thinking about losses and gains, and wondering which the Suliban would have in the end.