Maker - Michael Jan Friedman [5]
Gently, he removed the helm officer from his station, which was wet with the drip from a stalactite directly above it, and laid him on the floor. Having already begun to stiffen, the fellow lay grotesquely on his side, with his head laid across his outthrust arms.
Nikolas forced himself to ignore the helmsman’s corpse and concentrate instead on the helm controls. They weren’t all that different from those he had manipulated in his Starfleet training sessions.
A small screen in the upper right corner showed him their course as a red line on a black-and-yellow grid. Sure enough, it had changed since the attack.
The Iktoj’ni wasn’t heading for the trading world called Djillika any longer. She was on a course that would take her into the portion of space occupied by the Ubarrak.
And she was doing so at full speed. Nikolas felt his throat go dry.
Ubarrak territory was the last sector he or any other Federation citizen would be advised to visit. Though the Federation wasn’t officially at war with the Ubarrak, the possibility of an armed conflict was always implicit in their strained and often hostile relations.
Slipping behind the helm console, Nikolas slowed the cargo hauler to a crawl. Then he punched in a new heading—one that would take the vessel back to the heart of Federation space—and engaged the thrusters.
When he looked up at the viewscreen, he saw the stars scrolling from one side to the other, reflecting his course change. Much better, he thought.
Suddenly, Nikolas heard footfalls. Heavy ones, too heavy to belong to one of his crewmates.
Swiveling in his seat, he saw the alien looming over him, his eyes glowing feverishly. But he wasn’t returning the human’s scrutiny. His head was tilted to one side, as if he were listening to something Nikolas couldn’t hear.
What’s going on? Nikolas wondered. Giving in to an impulse, he turned back to the viewscreen—and saw that the stars had begun moving back the other way again. Glancing at his helm console, he noticed that his course change had been nullified. Once again, they were heading for Ubarrak territory.
What the hell…?
Behind him, the alien stood gazing at the screen. He looked pleased with what he saw.
“We have resumed course,” he said in that strange, discordant voice of his.
A part of Nikolas couldn’t believe the invader had reset the helm controls without touching an instrument panel, or that he could stop a moving turbolift or make a cavern out of a ship’s corridor. But another part of him was starting to believe that it was possible—and that if the alien had done those things, he could drain the life from Nikolas’s comrades as well.
It seemed crazy. And yet, the evidence was starting to pile up. The invader possessed abilities far beyond anything Nikolas had ever seen.
But that didn’t mean the alien was a match for the Ubarrak. Not all by himself, in a lightly armed cargo vessel.
“You don’t want to go where we’re headed,” Nikolas said reasonably. “The Ubarrak don’t like outsiders.”
“I know,” said the alien, his voice every bit as harsh and ringing as before. “I noticed that when I reached into your mind to find a destination.”
Ignoring Nikolas, he turned to Rejjerin and raised a four-fingered hand—and the captain ascended from her station. With a horizontal gesture, the alien slid her through the air to another part of the bridge. Then he dropped his hand, and Rejjerin plummeted to the deck with a thud.
With the captain’s chair vacated, the alien settled his bulk into it. Then he turned to the viewscreen, where the stars were streaming by, and took on a look of contentment.
“I don’t think you understand,” said Nikolas. “The Ubarrak will destroy us on sight.”
“I understand perfectly,” said the alien, his mouth spreading again in a smile.
Nikolas thought about trying to incapacitate the bastard, but he knew that he would fail. And then there would be one more pale, shriveled corpse on the Iktoj’ni.
No, he thought, I’ll bide my time. Eventually, he’ll let his guard down. He