Distant Shores - Marco Palmieri [121]
He returned the kiss, passionately, desperately. It was almost a goodbye, but he wasn’t quite there yet. “But I wanted to know everything about you,” he sighed.
“The Borg knew everything about me,” Marika said. “I was a puzzle they’d solved completely, so they’d had no reason to be curious, to give me a second thought. It’s what we don’t know that excites us, captivates us. Sense of wonder, Harry. That’s what you’ve given me. Keep wondering about me, and you’ll keep me alive.” Their lips met for several more moments, and for a moment, it felt like eternity.
Harry wanted nothing more than to hide in his quarters, bury his head under the pillows and try to forget what was about to happen. Marika had given him leave to do so. But he realized that he couldn’t. He loved her-so he had to be with her to the end.
When she stepped into the Delta Flyer and saw Harry at the controls, Marika paused for a moment, staring wordlessly, and then embraced him in silent gratitude. After that, they were all business, though their hands often met as they flew toward the rift. They couldn’t do much more, since they were both in spacesuits for maximum radiation protection. And they’d already said their goodbyes in private.
Harry brought the Flyer as close to the rift as he could manage, and then Marika stroked his cheek one last time before heading aft to the exit. Harry turned the ship to watch as she fired her jets and vanished into the searing Cerenkov light pouring out of the rift. “I’m insi… ift,” he heard her say through the static. “Looking fo… robe… see it!” A pause. “Having to adjust… istortion in here mak… rd to navigate… compensating.” Harry occupied himself with trying to clean up the signal. Finally her voice came again. “I’ve reached the probe. I’m going…” This pause had nothing to do with static.
“Are you all right?” he called.
“Feeling weak… nauseous… vision starting to blur. Have to work fast.” Harry winced in pain, then tried to steel himself. “Okay, the panel’s open. Entering self-destruct code… there, it’s done. Counting down from sixty.”
“Karah…”
“Wait-as long as I’m here, I’m going to… to upload what’s left of the data core to you. Maybe… there’s still some data you can use. Maybe I can hand the Voth one more defeat-and help you get home.”
“You’ve already done more than enough, Karah,” Harry told her, his voice unsteady.
“So, what, I should rest now? Save my energy? For what? Carpe diem, young Mr. Kim!” Her breathing was growing ragged. “There. Upload complete. Did you get it? Is it any good?”
Harry examined the data readout on the console before him. There was nothing there but noise. “It’s-it’s great, Karah. This will really help us. You’ve given us… something precious.”
“Thank you,” she sighed. “Maybe… you can walk on the beach at Rennekal… and remember me.”
“I’ll never forget you, Karah. Never.”
“You’d better get some distance, love-because I’m about to go out with a bang you’ll never forget. Ten… nine…”
Harry put the thrusters in reverse. He didn’t want to look away. His eyes were filled with tears, blurring his view, but he would look, he would witness, he would remember Marika Willkarah. “I love you,” he told her quietly.
“Always.”
The light exploded outward, blinding, furious, the multispectral scream of wounded spacetime. Infinite colors blazed across the sky, bursting outward in concentric rings and spikes and streamers. It was the most beautiful thing Harry had ever seen. The eruption itself would die down in minutes, but Harry knew that light would continue traveling outward, a pyre so radiant it would be seen on distant worlds for hundreds of light-years around-a monument that would endure long after Harry and everyone he knew was gone. Harry smiled with transcendent joy, even as he grieved. “Marika Willkarah was here,” he declared to the universe. “And we will remember.”
Eighteen Minutes
Terri Osborne
This tale is set during the sixth-season episode “Blink of an Eye.”
Terri Osborne
Terri Osborne is a writer, award-winning costumer, and unrepentant