The Devil's Heart - Carmen Carter [1]
Ko N’ya.
Yes, that was the Gem’s name in her language … and that language was Vulcan.
I am T’Sara.
Even lying still on her cot, T’Sara’s body felt limp, drained by the ordeal that had been Jiak’s and her own blurred together. True sleep would help restore her strength, but she begrudged the waste of time. She wanted to explore the lives of all who had held this stone before her, and that quest could take many years to complete.
Tonight, in this dream, T’Sara had seen her homeworld through the eyes of an alien being, felt the heavy pull of its gravity on a body that was not her own. Most important of all, however, she had discovered another bridge in the meandering path of the Ko N’ya. The leap from far-distant Iconia to Vulcan would have eluded her otherwise.
Any thought of embarking on another search was suspended by the sound of movement in the compound outside. The other archaeologists had cleared the rubble from around their shared habitations, but T’Sara had no patience for such domestic touches. She could hear the scuffle of boots climbing over mounds of fallen stonework and crumbling walls.
By her count, at least four Vulcans were headed toward her tent.
The visitors came to a stop just outside the domed enclosure. Someone’s hands brushed lightly across the fabric wall until probing fingers found purchase on the ridged seams marking the entrance. A shaft of moonlight slipped through the widening breach.
“T’Sara?”
Because it was Sorren, she said, “Enter.”
The young man slipped inside, then resealed the portal with more care than she had taken. Each day she was less and less concerned with the basic necessities of survival. If not for Sorren’s prodding, she would forget even to eat.
She made no move to activate a lantern, and he did not ask for light. The darkness made it easier for him to ignore the Ko N’ya when they talked.
“T’Sara, your cries have awakened everyone in the camp … again.”
The others who had kept him company remained huddled outside. She could hear them taking shallow breaths of the frigid air. “I was restless.”
“These spells of unrest are becoming more frequent.”
“I have slept away too much of my life,” said the woman. “I intend to make better use of my remaining years.”
“I am still young, however; and I will never reach your august age if I am robbed of my sleep now.” There was a hint of wry humor in Sorren’s remark, a rare self-indulgence from such an earnest young Vulcan.
“Then go back to bed, my child, and I promise not to wake you again.” Her position as leader of the expedition invested her words with the authority of a direct command.
“Very well,” he said. She heard the rustle of the seals parting, felt a cool draft of air, then saw Sorren’s willowy silhouette as he stepped through the opening. “I will bring you some tea in the morning.”
He closed the entrance, plunging her back into darkness and warmth, yet T’Sara could hear him whisper to his waiting companions. “It was only a bad dream.”
“That is what you said last night,” said Sohle. His gruff voice merely roughened when he tried to speak quietly.
“It is no less true for having happened a second time.”
“How many disturbances does it take to convince you, Sorren?” asked T’Challo. “T’Sara is ill.”
“My last medical scan did not confirm any ill health.”
“You are no doctor,” said T’Challo. “And it is time we …”
The voices faded away before T’Sara could overhear any more of their discussion, but she had no interest in their bickering. Morning was still a few hours away.
She had just enough time to fall into another dream.
CHAPTER 1
Captain Jean-Luc Picard slept with the same air of authority he carried with him on the bridge of the Enterprise. Even in the privacy of his darkened cabin and the haven of unconsciousness, he maintained a commander’s demeanor. The silken blue pajamas he wore only emphasized the hard contours of his body he lay flat on his back, his lean frame held at attention except