Myriad Universes 02_ Echoes and Refractions - Keith R. A. DeCandido [56]
“Indeed, your logic was flawed,” Saavik agreed. “David…This hospital offers excellent outpatient counseling. Your physical wounds have been cured, yes. But the full healing process will take much more time.”
David nodded in agreement. He wasn’t sure how the grief would ever subside, but he was willing to try to overcome it. Saavik touched his hand again and they sat together in silence for a while.
“So…” David said, looking to change the subject. “How goes the plan to fix Earth?”
“The plan goes well,” she replied. “Your mother sends her regards, and promises that she will visit you again as soon as the mission is complete. I understand that Starfleet is granting her request to let Captain Thelin lead the mission.”
“That’s terrific,” he said, but his dispirited voice still betrayed his regrets. He stared up at the ceiling. “You know…the whole time we were held by the Klingons, I kept thinking about what they might do to the Earth if they ever got their hands on Genesis. And yet after all that, after everything I did to resist, some unknown force comes along and destroys the damn planet anyway.” He looked into Saavik’s eyes, pleading for some kind of explanation-something that would make sense in his life. “What kind of twisted universe allows that to happen?”
Saavik had no reply.
Three hundred kilometers beneath the orbiting U.S.S. Copernicus, the wounded Earth writhed in throes of misery. The sparkling blue oceans, the fruitful multicolored landmasses, and the twinkling lights of civilization on the night side-all were en-shrouded by the swirling, stormy masses of cloud cover that enveloped the planet, ensnaring the world within a trap of its own making.
Aboard the vessel, which had just departed the orbiting spacedock under the command of Captain Thelin, Carol Marcus stood on the bridge, staring at the violence of the planet’s ruined atmosphere on the viewscreen; despite her lack of credentials as a medical doctor, today billions had placed their faith in her power to heal a world.
Thelin looked about at the hastily assembled crew. Some of the men and women he knew by reputation as respected science officers, but only Lieutenant Croy at the operations console-recently granted a full commission in the wake of the destruction of Starfleet Academy-had served under him previously. All of them were human, he couldn’t help but notice…but that made sense. As Earth natives, they would have a vested interest in the mission’s success.
“Well, Doctor Marcus,” Thelin said. “The patient is waiting. Are you prepared to administer the remedy?”
Carol walked back around the captain’s chair to the science consoles at the rear of the bridge, smiling at the Andorian’s clumsy metaphor. “Yes, Captain, the trajectory is laid in. We can deploy the first torpedo at your command.”
“Lieutenant Croy, fire at your leisure.”
“Yes, sir!” said the young officer. He eagerly pressed the firing control on his console, and the concussive discharge of a torpedo vibrated through the deck. A moment later, the object came into view on the screen, streaking down toward the planet’s upper atmosphere at a very slight angle of descent.
“Tracking…” Croy called out as the data began rolling onto his display. “Device is on projected course, descending at five kilometers per second.”
“Telemetry confirmed,” Carol reported from her station. “Device is online, status ready.”
“Crossing the Karman line,” Croy said. “On track for detonation at the stratopause boundary. Discharge in five seconds…three, two, one…”
A flash erupted near the horizon, producing a ripple that diffused throughout the upper atmosphere. Many kilometers below the point of the explosion, a clearing opened up in the cloud cover and pushed back the storm systems in a radial pattern. The effect decreased as it propagated farther outward, and gradually wispy cirrus clouds spread back over the hole in the canopy as the effect dispersed. But the net