The Brave and the Bold Book Two - Keith R. A. DeCandido [2]
You can do better.
Tharia whirled around. “What?”
You can do better. You don’t need to settle for this. You can destroy them once and for all.
The tricorder had now completely lost power, but Tharia’s antennae were now quivering with a purpose. The voice was coming from under one of the gray rocks.
He knew this mainly because the voice didn’t sound in his ears or in his antennae, but in his mind.
Deducing that telepathy was at work, Tharia stopped walking. Only when he stopped did he realize that he’d been moving in the first place. He had been going toward the rock from which the telepathic voice had emanated, almost against his will. Tharia hated telepaths.
“What do you want with me?”
I want to help you achieve your goal.
“Really? Show yourself—and speak! I will not converse with a telepath who hides.”
I am no telepath, and I’m not hiding. I’m but a tool that can give you what you desire.
Tharia made a derisive noise. “Can you bring my three mates back to me?”
No.
“Then you lie.”
You misunderstand my purpose and my words, Tharia ch’Ren.
“Do I?” He didn’t bother to question how the voice knew his name. Telepaths loved to show off how much they knew that was unspoken.
Yes. Getting your family back is a wish, not a goal. Items that can grant wishes are the purview of stories and myths. As I said, I’m a tool—and I can help you get—
“What I desire, yes, I see.” Tharia felt foolish standing in the middle of the gray rocks talking to nothing, so he sat down. “So you can help me get rid of the Cardassians? Aid me in destroying them? Assist me in driving them from my home forever?”
Yes.
“And what do you get in return?”
I have lain unused on this miserable rock for thousands of lifetimes, Tharia ch’Ren. What good is a tool that gets no use?
Tharia leaned back, supporting himself on the rock with his arms. He could feel the emissions from this whatever-it-was more precisely now in his antennae. It was wedged in between two rocks amid the underbrush of a bush that stuck out between them.
“I will not be coerced. I can feel you trying to convince me with your mind games.”
You are a wise man, Tharia ch’Ren. You are also a man with a mission. I can be a valuable aid on that mission. All you must do is hold me in your grasp.
Tharia stood up. “No. I refuse.”
Images appeared in Tharia’s head then.
He saw a humanoid of some kind, holding a small black box that glowed with an odd green hue.
He saw other humanoid figures kneeling before the figure holding the box.
He saw the figure walk outside into a day that was filled with sunlight, a sky with no clouds.
He saw the figure hold up the box.
He saw clouds appear seemingly out of nowhere, saw winds start to gust where the air had been still.
He saw the people cheer as rain came pouring down from the sky.
Then the vista changed: he saw the figure again—older this time—using the black box to start a blizzard. Then using it to melt a snow-filled region with intense, desertlike heat. Then causing a hurricane to tear through a residential area.
“Get out of my head!” Tharia was now screaming as he unholstered his phaser, his dead tricorder long since dropped to the rocky ground. He didn’t even check to see what setting the phaser was on, he just activated it and fired.
The images continued to pour into his mind as he fired. As the amber phaser beam tore into the leaves of the bush, he saw the figure use the black box to wipe out a village with a tornado. As the phaser pulverized the branches, rain was brought to the desert. As the rocks blew apart, a fog rolled into a sky filled with air traffic, causing massive slow-ups and collisions.
“Enough!