Planet X - Michael Jan Friedman [2]
They began to glow with a pale, hazy light. Erid studied them, wondering what would happen next. He wasn’t left wondering for long.
A brilliant white beam shot out suddenly from one of his fingertips and struck a nearby stack of rocks—shattering it with explosive force. He stared at the stunted pile that remained.
Did I really do that? he asked himself.
Then, before the fragments created by the first beam could stop rolling, a beam projected from another finger and hit the ground. It pulverized the rocky surface and sent a blinding spray of pebbles into his face.
Erid got up and staggered backward, eyes watering, trying to hold his hands as far away as possible—but a third beam shot over his shoulder, missing his ear by only a few inches. Then another shot out, and another and another after that, all of them losing themselves in the blue-green heavens.
But what if one of them hits me? he wondered. If these beams can shatter rocks, what will they do to flesh and blood?
Unfortunately, there was nowhere Erid could run where the beams wouldn’t follow. They were coming from parts of his body, after all—or, anyway, the wretched thing his body had become.
The beams began to manifest themselves faster and faster, like a pair of fireworks wheels on Tala Day. One after another, the surrounding rock piles burst apart and littered the landscape with their gravel. But as terrified as Erid was, as shaken to his bones, he couldn’t help but be fascinated by the sight as well.
Where is all this power coming from? he asked helplessly. How could it have gotten inside me?
He had barely completed the thought when there was a burst of white-hot splendor, beams jumping from all ten of his fingers with a fury that dwarfed anything that had gone before. He stumbled backwards, hit a rock with his heel, and sprawled on the ground.
But when Erid looked at his hands again, the beams were gone. His fingers had stopped glowing. They were normal again.
It was as if the nightmare had passed—as if it had never happened in the first place. Then he looked at his arms, with their huge, purple blood vessels, and knew in his heart that the nightmare was just beginning.
Chapter One
SECURITY OFFICER MARCO PALMIERI shone his palm light down the long, dimly lit corridor, one of a multitude of corridors he had patrolled since his arrival at Starbase 88.
Palmieri didn’t see anyone attempting to break into one of the cargo bays. He didn’t see anyone sabotaging any of the internal sensor nodes. He didn’t see anyone, period.
No surprise, he thought. There was never anyone there to see.
Palmieri had shipped out from Earth several months earlier, propelled by an academy graduate’s dreams of excitement and adventure. After all, these were dangerous times, with the Dominion an ever-present threat and the Cardassians again at odds with the Federation.
But somehow, none of those dangers seemed to materialize on Starbase 88. Instead of finding excitement and adventure, Palmieri had managed to draw the most routine assignment he could imagine, in one of the least inspiring places in the galaxy.
Naturally, he had mentioned his problem to Security Chief Clark, his superior. But she had been less than sympathetic.
After all, Clark had reminded him, Starbase 88 received just as many potential troublemakers as any other Federation space station. If it didn’t experience the turmoil other stations did, that was a good thing—a sign that Palmieri and his colleagues were doing their jobs.
At the time, Palmieri had found it difficult to argue with the woman’s logic—and it was no easier now. But that didn’t make his inactivity any easier to take.
Coming to the end of the corridor, he turned right and illuminated another walkway with his palm light. Like all the others, the passage was orderly and unpopulated, devoid of anything that might make a security officer’s heart beat faster.
Palmieri sighed. Maybe it was time to ask for a transfer. He knew that berths on starships