Myriad Universes 02_ Echoes and Refractions - Keith R. A. DeCandido [74]
“Admiral,” Uhura said. “I’m monitoring communications…from Praxis.”
Still standing directly behind the helm, Thelin spun round to face Uhura. “Communications…from the surface?”
“Stand by,” she replied, squinting and looking down as she struggled to make sense of what she was hearing. “There’s a lot of overlap, sir, and it’s breaking up…the translator isn’t able to do much with it. But I believe most of these are distress calls originating from subterranean sources.”
“Underground mining settlements?” Thelin asked.
“I think so, sir,” Uhura replied. She looked away, and Thelin noticed her eyes beginning to widen with shock.
Thelin turned back toward the viewer. The initial effect of the wave had passed, though the landscape of Praxis had become a maelstrom of both geological and biological activity. No surface settlements could possibly have survived the ravages of the wave, but there was no way to know what sort of changes the Genesis matrix could be working beneath the ground, where mining operations delved deep toward the moon’s core. “Commander Uhura,” Thelin said tentatively. “Speakers on.”
The ship’s intercom flared to life with a burst of white noise, which quickly died away, revealing the frenzied voices beneath the interference.
“Perimeter…forcefields holding… baQa’...!...kind of energy wave…no response from the surface…read us? Qo’noS command…”
Intense static momentarily overwhelmed the transmission. At the helm, Sulu and Chekov exchanged glances, seeming not to know how to react.
“...believed to be dead! Is anyone listening? Secondary wave impact…” Then shouts, followed by shrieks of alarm, or possibly pain.
“...families are trapped! We cannot…” A female voice interjected. “Molgoth? Come in…east barriers have been compromised! Can we still beam out the children? Molgoth…? qeylIS…Qoy wIj tlhobtaHghach!”
Additional shrieks were heard, and screams…
Then the speakers throughout the bridge produced nothing but a cold, empty hiss.
“Speakers off,” Thelin whispered.
The noise ceased, and a stifling silence enveloped the bridge, punctuated only by the beeps and whirrs of the computer consoles that busily charted courses and analyzed data, morally oblivious to the event that had just occurred.
Thelin stepped back onto the platform at the center of the bridge and walked to the chair, but did not sit, instead facing the chair and gripping the armrests, leaning on it for support. “My God…What have we done?”
A beat passed. At the communication station, Uhura removed her earpiece, rose from her chair, and stood at attention. “We followed our orders, sir…. We did what was necessary for the sake of the Federation.” And although her composure was unflappable, a single tear ran down the length of her left cheek.
Thelin did not move, even to turn his head in acknowledgment. “Yes, for the Federation…” he whispered. “But have we destroyed it in order to save it?”
The rest of the bridge crew stared ahead in silence. On the screen before them, retreating into the distance, shone a shining sphere of blue-green paradise, spawned in the depths of Hell.
7
Praetor Aratenik stood up from his chair at the head of the Romulan Senate, his ceremonial robes billowing about his tall, lanky form. His troubled expression foreshadowed the acrimony that would undoubtedly plague this session. The events of the past week were unprecedented on a galactic scale, and what happened today could chart a course for generations to come.
“The Senate calls to the floor Saavik of Vulcan,” Aratenik announced, “the honorable ambassador from the United Federation of Planets.”
Saavik rose from her seat in the front row of the gallery and stepped forward into the large round area in the center