Enigma - Michael Jan Friedman [43]
Ben Zoma looked at him. “Sir?”
“I have no intention of hanging back in this shuttle, Commander. If you’re going to try this, you’re going to do it with the benefit of my experience.”
The first officer didn’t know how good an idea it was to include the admiral on the away team. Even if McAteer had once been a crack ship’s officer, it was a long time since he had put himself on a bull’s-eye. He might get into trouble and drag the rest of them down along with him.
“Sir,” said Ben Zoma, seizing on the first angle that came to mind, “this is going to be a pretty dangerous proposition. I’d be remiss in my duty if I put the life of a superior officer in jeopardy.”
McAteer smiled a sour smile. “Not if that superior officer insisted on it—which I do.”
There wasn’t much that Ben Zoma could say to that. The decision had been taken out of his hands.
“All right,” he said. He turned again to Paris, who had watched the exchange with interest. “You might as well come too. We can put the shuttle on autopilot.”
“Aye, sir,” said the ensign. But it was clear that he was glad to be going along.
And Ben Zoma was glad to have him. It would be helpful to have another capable officer at his disposal—especially when he would constantly have to keep one eye out for McAteer.
Picard stood in the engine room of the Antares, studying a vaguely hourglass-shaped warp core that was identical to that of the Stargazer right down to the last stem bolt. It was shimmering inside with a ghostly, blue light, looking every bit as vigorous as it should have.
“Well,” Picard observed with satisfaction, “it appears that you are back in business.”
“That it does,” said Captain Vayishra, who was standing beside him, his aquiline features softened by the glare. “But if you hadn’t come along, the Antares would have been as dead as the invaders left her.”
And you and your crew along with it, thought Picard. But he refrained from mentioning that unhappy detail.
“We were pleased that we could help,” he said instead.
Vayishra looked as if he meant to say something more. However, he was interrupted by the voice of his com officer, which Picard had by then heard often enough to recognize as easily as his own.
“Captain,” said the officer, “I have Admiral Mehdi. He wishes to speak with both you and Captain Picard.”
The two men exchanged glances. Vayishra seemed to be of the same opinion as Picard—that they wouldn’t appreciate what they were about to hear.
“Patch it through to the main engineering console,” said Vayishra.
“Aye, sir,” said the com officer.
Picard and Vayishra moved to the console in question. It was in the same place as the one used by Simenon on the Stargazer. A moment later, Mehdi’s image appeared on a monitor screen. He looked as if he hadn’t been sleeping very well.
“Good news?” Picard asked hopefully, despite the admiral’s appearance.
“I wish it were,” said Mehdi.
Do not tell me that something happened to the shuttle, Picard insisted silently. Please do not tell me that.
“Two more of our ships have been attacked,” Mehdi reported. “The Ojanju and the Gettysburg. Both of them managed to send out warnings to the fleet before they fell incommunicado.”
Picard absorbed the information.
“Judging by the coordinates of the attacks,” the admiral continued, “our adversaries are steadily moving toward the heart of the Federation. They’ll reach Earth in a matter of days if we don’t stop them.”
Picard understood the significance of Mehdi’s observation. However, it was Vayishra who expressed it out loud.
“It’s been more than a hundred years,” he said, “since an enemy has gotten within firing range of Earth.”
And back then, Picard noted, there was significantly less at stake—the fate of a single planet, not an entire union of worlds. If Starfleet Command were destroyed, the damage to the Federation would be incalculable.
“Command has decided that we’ll make a stand,” said Mehdi, “with all the firepower we can muster. The Antares, I understand, is in no shape to fight….”
“However,” Picard inferred, “the Stargazer is—and you want her to