String Theory_ Fusion (Book 2) - Kirsten Beyer [114]
“The one who tried to lead you?”
Phoebe nodded.
“Kind of ironic name, isn’t it?” Janeway mused.
Ignoring her, Phoebe went on, “The form he gave them is a vague reflection of the oneness they knew in Exosia. And only in that form can they continue to exert any kind of will. Through that power, they choose their owner. They first chose a Monorhan called Dagan. They did not understand that their choice would kill him. The Monorhans feared the Key, and locked it away. By refusing to touch it, they also denied the Key the right to choose its next owner.”
“Why is it necessary for the Key to have an owner?”
“So that there will always be one with the power to open the conduit. Without that, there is no hope for any of us.”
“What happened to the Light?” Janeway asked.
“I do not know,” Phoebe said almost sadly. “He has been lost to us for longer than I can remember. Some believe he died. Some believe now that he never really existed, that this memory of us is some kind of hopeful illusion. All I know for certain is that I cannot sense him or his power among those of us who are left.”
Phoebe paused to let this sink in, then pleaded, “Do what I ask, willingly, and I promise no further harm will come to any other life-form that inhabits this space and time. Help me open the conduit.”
Janeway was about to agree. But one final disturbing question remained.
“Are you ready to return home?” she asked. “Have you solved the problem?”
As she waited, breathless for Phoebe to respond, she thought of the array, the technological miracle that she knew the Nacene who had remained behind could only be responsible for. She thought of the power structure, the adaptive life-support system, and the computer core capable of holding every fragment of data about the entire universe in one place and hoped silently that Phoebe would say yes.
But as she watched this face, a face whose subtlest thought had been plainly read by her since the day her sister had been born, she knew that she wasn’t going to get the answer she was hoping for.
“We have not,” she replied. “But it no longer matters. Your actions here brought me to the gateway. I have called the exiles and we must use the Key now. If we do not, the Others will return.”
“How do you know that?” Janeway demanded.
“When you destabilized the gateway, they were drawn here as we were. I told them I would destroy the Key. They gave me three days to do so. In less than twenty-seven hours they will be back to make sure I have upheld my side of our agreement. If we do not use the Key and return to Exosia before that time, we will not even be allowed to choose to remain exiled in this dimension. The Others will destroy us, Kathryn, and all that you and I both hold dear, just as they did once before.”
“But you said the gateway was closed. How can the Others come back, if you cannot pass through it without the Key?” Janeway asked.
“The will of the Others in Exosia keeps the gateway closed. They are the only beings who can enter or leave as they please, though to my knowledge they have never chosen to do so until now.”
Janeway looked again at the field. She shuddered at its barrenness. Even the masses of “dead” had been somehow more comforting than the wasteland that stretched as far as she could see. There were ancient lessons of war which were still taught at Starfleet Academy. The one that came to Janeway’s mind now was first taught by one of the earliest races of humans in recorded history to successfully civilize their small corner of the planet Earth.
“They made a desert and called it peace,” Janeway said softly.
“And will do so again,” Phoebe added. “Even we, sometimes, fail to learn.”
Janeway sighed deeply, raised