Ring Around the Sky - Allyn Gibson [31]
Gomez nodded.
“Captain,” said Wong, “we are pulling the elevator shaft into orbit.”
Gold nodded. He looked at Grevesh and patted the back of his hand. “We’re saving your planet, First Minister.”
Grevesh smiled and nodded contentedly.
“Captain,” said Tev, “the lower portion of the elevator broke into three pieces. They have all landed in the ocean.”
Gomez looked up from the computer console at her side. “Captain, sensors show the Ring is stable in its geosynchronous orbit.”
“Good job, Gomez.”
“Captain,” said Wong, “we’re now passing two hundred thousand kilometers. If we disengage tractors, the elevator shaft will fall into Kharzh’ulla’s sun in about four months.”
Gold turned to Grevesh. “It’s your call, First Minister.”
Grevesh looked at the viewscreen. Kharzh’ulla had receded into the distance, and the Ring was prominent, but the elevators were invisible against the blackness of space. The elevator shaft—now twenty-five thousand kilometers long—trailed behind the da Vinci, the tractor beam an electric blue against space. “Let it drift,” he said, his voice suddenly strong.
Eevraith rushed to his side and stood between Grevesh and the viewscreen. “First Minister,” said Eevraith. “Don’t be hasty. We can use the elevator as the building block of its replacement. We needn’t toss it away.”
Grevesh looked up at Eevraith, a hard look in his eyes. “If we rebuild the elevator, we do it on our own terms. We rebuild because we can, because we have the knowledge and understanding to do so. For two centuries we rode on the back of a long-dead civilization. We used what they left behind and made it part of our culture, without understanding what it was and how it worked. The Ring and the elevators were a gift, but an unearned one.” He turned and looked at Tev standing near the tactical console. “If the Ring is to be our destiny, we must learn how to make it our destiny on our own terms. Not on history’s terms.”
Grevesh’s chair moved forward, and Eevraith stepped gingerly out of its path. The chair came around the bridge railing, and the eyes on the bridge followed. Around the tactical console Grevesh came, and he stopped before Tev. “I have shamed you, Mor glasch Tev. I accused you of not being a Kharzh’ullan, and I should not have done so. Your thinking saved our world. We can make a future together.”
Tev knelt at Grevesh’s knee and took Grevesh’s weak hands in his. “No forgiveness is needed, First Minister.”
Grevesh smiled. “Your father would be proud of you today, Tev.”
The chair backed away, and Tev rose. Grevesh stopped at the turbolift doors, took one last look at the sight on the viewscreen of the elevator shaft still under the da Vinci’s tractors, then turned and entered the turbolift car.
Gold thought he seemed content.
“Cut the tractor beam, Shabalala,” he said.
“Aye, sir,” the tactical officer said with a smile. “Tractor beam disengaged.”
The electric blue glow faded, and the elevator shaft drifted in space.
“Thank you, Captain Gold,” said Eevraith.
Gold jerked a thumb in Tev’s direction. “Tev’s the one you should be thanking, Minister.”
Eevraith’s brows knotted. Tev said nothing.
“We know whose plan it was that saved Kharzh’ulla, Minister,” said Gold slowly. “Perhaps the first minister doesn’t, and it doesn’t concern me especially whether he does or not. But on my bridge, we know. You can make that right, here and now, or you can’t. The choice is yours, and I won’t belabor it.”
Eevraith looked hard at Gold, then at Gomez. A scowl crossed his face. “I haven’t any idea what you’re talking about, Captain Gold. If you’re accusing me of something, I would expect something more than a vague threat.”
Gold leaned back in his chair and spread his hands wide. “I’m neither accusing nor threatening, Minister. Merely stating.”
Eevraith rose from his chair. His eyes narrowed, and he looked quickly to Tev standing next to Shabalala at the tactical console. Tev kept a neutral