The Good That Men Do - Andy Mangels [4]
Steadying himself against the neutronium-reinforced concrete wall into which the window was set, Ehrehin turned to face his associates, all of whom were busy either running or monitoring several semicircular rows of consoles. Despite his recurrent misgivings about the military-enforced pace of his team’s research, he realized that he was waging a losing battle against the triumphant grin that was already beginning to spread across his lined, weathered face.
Standing beside his console, Cunaehr ran his fingers through his perpetually tousled, jet-black hair in yet another vain attempt to tame it. He cleared his throat loudly, quickly capturing the attention of the science outpost’s thirteen other research personnel. All of the project’s staffers now stood alert at their stations, the staccato rhythm of their professional conversations momentarily halted, their usually busy hands now stilled above their consoles, their eyes turned toward Doctor Ehrehin in silent anticipation of his words.
“Thank you, my friends, for all the labor and sacrifice you have given this effort so far in order to realize our collective dream,” Ehrehin said, raising his thin voice slightly. “The time has arrived for us to make history. Now we shall light the torch that soon will bring near the farthest reaches of the heavens. At last we will achieve avaihh lli vastam.
“The warp-seven stardrive.” And there can be no margin for error this time, he added silently, wondering yet again whether the Romulan Star Empire’s military was right to worry that Coridan Prime- or perhaps even one of the other recently Terran-aligned worlds- had already equaled or even surpassed the painstaking work of Ehrehin’s team.
Cunaehr began slowly applauding, and the rest of the staff immediately joined in until the hand claps escalated into a torrent. Ehrehin’s smile broadened as he held up a single wizened hand to call for silence.
“Shall we?” he said once the room had quieted.
At Cunaehr’s deliberate gesture, the team members resumed their vigilant poses behind their respective consoles, leaving Ehrehin with little to do other than to watch and wait as orders were exchanged and relayed, and a countdown began, reinforced by an emotionless synthetic voice generated by one of the computers. No one appeared to be breathing for the duration. Ehrehin suppressed a tremor in his left hand as the machine crisply pronounced the numerals that represented the last five ewa in the countdown sequence.
“Rhi.
“Mne.
“Sei.
“Kre.
“Hwi.”
A low rumble came a moment after the computer reached “Lliu.” Ehrehin rather likened it to thunder, except that he felt it deep in his bones rather than hearing it directly, as he did the crisp, businesslike voices that were ringing out across the small control center.
“Power output rising along predicted curves,” Cunaehr said. “Holding steady.”
The man behind Cunaehr nodded, adding, “Power output consistent with a velocity of warp three.”
“Confirmed,” chimed a woman’s voice from a nearby console. Others made noises of agreement. Ehrehin heard several jubilant shouts as the first dilated moments passed and everyone in the room appeared to resume their regular breathing patterns. The monitors continued showing orange and amber as the subaural rumbling continued and intensified.
Cunaehr smiled elatedly in Ehrehin’s direction. “Warp three already from a standing start.”
But Ehrehin felt that a victory celebration might be a bit premature. “Gradually reduce the containment field diameter, Cunaehr, and reinforce it. Increase the power yield incrementally.”
“Warp four,” Cunaehr said after relaying Ehrehin’s orders, his eyes riveted to his monitor. “Five. Six.”
“Continue until we reach maximum yield,” Ehrehin said, grinning in