Last Full Measure - Michael A. Martin [37]
“Do you really think we’d cross fifty light-years and start scouring a forsaken waste like the Delphic Expanse as some sort of prank?” Archer said, the impatience beneath his words becoming clearly audible.
“I truly don’t know what you would do, if you really believed it to be necessary,” Trahve said, shaking his head. “Or if you were desperate enough. But I do know that my Xindi employers won’t be very happy with me if I start leading perfect strangers to their secret construction sites.”
Reed sighed. Just as he had surmised would happen, Trahve’s easy cooperation seemed to be coming to an abrupt dead end. Sometimes I really, really hate being right so much of the time, he thought.
“You’ll notice that the Xindi aren’t the ones standing here with their weapons locked and loaded,” Hayes said, raising the barrel of his own phase rifle for emphasis. Kemper did likewise, taking steady, pitiless aim at Trahve’s head. Since both MACOs stood only a little more than a meter from their target, the likelihood of their shots going astray was negligible.
In spite of himself, Reed was impressed by Trahve’s coolness under pressure, though he could have done without the courier’s infuriatingly insouciant smile.
“Shooting me won’t help you find what you’re looking for, gentlemen,” Trahve said. “Even if your weapons have a stun setting. Besides, even stunner fire might damage the flight-control console, or compromise one of the forward windows and space us all. Then where would you be?”
He’s right, Reed thought, his own sense of frustration steadily rising. If he won’t cooperate, there won’t be a lot of good options open to us.
“The Xindi slaughtered millions of innocent people on my planet,” Archer said, his eyes narrowed, his body as taut as a bowstring. He gripped the headrest of a nearby chair so hard that Reed thought it might snap in half. “And they’re planning to wipe out billions more. Even as we speak.”
“I have only your word on that, Captain,” Trahve said, recoiling slightly from the captain’s barely constrained rage.
“Everything you’ve told us about the Xindi so far supports our story,” Reed said. “Do you really think we’ve been lying to you?”
Trahve shrugged. “Whether your story is true or not, it has nothing to do with me.”
“Really?” Archer said. “Even if the work you do for the Xindi makes you their accomplice in an act of mass murder?”
Trahve’s composure wavered momentarily; his winsome smile reappeared almost instantly, however, though Reed thought it looked more than a little forced.
“I’m just a courier trying to make a living in a quite nasty part of the galaxy, Captain,” he said at length. “I don’t know anything about any attack.”
“Then you’re about to get a crash course,” Hayes said curtly. His rifle barrel remained pointed squarely at Trahve’s head, as were the weapons of Kemper and Money.
“Talk to us, Trahve,” Archer said. “Tell us whatever you know about the location of the Xindi weapon.”
Trahve’s smile crumbled again. Now he looked almost pitiful, a man who had been cornered and now faced a truly untenable Hobson’s choice. “I can’t, Captain. At best, the Xindi would never hire me again. At worst, they’d get annoyed enough with me to vaporize my ship, and me along with it.”
Hayes raised his weapon so that the butt faced Trahve, and loomed menacingly over him. Reed realized all at once that the MACO was about to smash the alien across the face with it.
“Stand down, Major,” Archer said a split second before the surprised Reed managed to find his voice.
Hayes lowered the weapon stock, but with clearly evident reluctance. Reed considered the instant dislike he had felt for this man from the moment he and the rest of the MACO force had first come aboard Enterprise months ago. He felt a curious blending of satisfaction and disappointment as he realized that his initial instincts had been correct. Being from a family with a centuries-old naval tradition, Reed understood