Myriad Universes 02_ Echoes and Refractions - Keith R. A. DeCandido [31]
“You weren’t expecting anyone else?” Thelin asked.
“Not tonight, no.” Kirk reached the door and pressed the control near the frame to slide it open.
At the door stood Carol Marcus. Though she was smartly dressed in an attractive blouse and slacks, her clothes appeared unkempt, and her hair was similarly disheveled. Her swollen eyes were red with irritation and dried tears left streaks down her unblemished complexion. “Oh, Jim, I came as quickly as I could,” she said in a shaky voice, then stepped through the doorway and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder.
Though Thelin could not see his face, the bewilderment in Kirk’s voice was apparent as he tried to calm the distraught woman. “Carol? What’s wrong? Tell me what happened!”
She lifted her head and sniffed, looking into his eyes with her own confused expression. “You haven’t heard? You’re not monitoring the subspace feeds?”
“Well, I…No, I’m not. I mean, I saw that I had a message to contact Morrow, but I hadn’t…”
“Jim!” Carol cried out, pounding her fists into his chest. “We lost David!”
Kirk stiffened and dropped his arms. He quickly swung his head round to look at Thelin, who still sat observing, mirroring his own dumbfounded expression, then turned back to the mother of his son. “Lost? What…Carol, what are you saying?”
Carol pushed past him into the apartment. She sniffed again, wiping her nose with her hand, and then letting out a quiet wail as she threw her arms back down to her sides. “The Grissom was destroyed,” she said.
“Destroyed?” Kirk said incredulously, walking up from behind to stand next to her. “How?”
“I don’t know,” Carol replied. “Attacked maybe…the last transmission said something about an artificial disturbance and an energy surge.”
“Artificial? What does that mean?”
“Goddammit, Jim, I don’t know!”
Kirk grabbed her arm, spinning her around, away from Thelin. “Carol,” he implored her, “they were on a mission to explore the Genesis Planet. It’s possible that they weren’t aboard the ship.”
Carol’s voice dropped to a dull monotone as she had now drained her last reserves of emotion. “There is no more Genesis Planet. It’s gone.”
Kirk opened his mouth, agape, then shook his head before speaking. “I don’t understand.”
“Destroyed itself,” she deadpanned. “Blew up. It’s gone. It’s all gone.”
Her knees buckled and she fell into Kirk, this time planting her face into his chest, while her own chest heaved with pained moans of despair. Kirk wrapped his arms around her, and his eyes peered out over the top of her hair. And as Thelin looked into those eyes, he saw only an emptiness as vast as the deepest reaches of space.
3
The hard metal floor of the brig rushed up to meet David with all the gentleness of a shuttle accident. He heard the buzz and faint crackle as the forcefield was reengaged at the entrance to his cell. The impact caused blood to start dripping again from his nose, which was almost assuredly broken.
For the time being, he lacked the will, and most likely the strength, to move from his prone position. The harsh coldness of the ground was actually refreshing as the sweat continued to roll from his overheated brow. He found comfort in the sound of his own breathing, and in the sensation of his own pulse throbbing throughout his body, reminding him that he remained alive, at least for now.
The feel of a touch upon his shoulder pierced his trancelike state, and suddenly he found the strength to shriek and pull away. But then a soothing voice brought forth a sense of peace, and gently pulled him back from the brink of panic. “David, it’s me. It’s Saavik. Try to relax. You’re having an acute stress reaction.”
He turned his head toward the sound and struggled to bring the image into focus. The sight of her face and the firm gaze beneath her arched eyebrows instantly calmed him, and he reached out with his right hand to touch her cheek. “Saavik?” he said, and suddenly burst into uncontrolled