Three - Michael Jan Friedman [77]
The navigator didn’t even have time to curse. The beam punched her in the stomach and slammed her into the bulkhead behind her, almost knocking her senseless.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Gerda Idun crossing the room, headed for Simenon. As Gerda watched, her counterpart grabbed the engineer by his armpits and dragged him back toward the transporter pad.
“No,” the navigator groaned.
Nikolas, who had gotten as far as the middle of the room, raised his arm and pointed to her. “Your badge,” he croaked.
Gerda understood. He wanted her to contact the bridge and have them cut power to the transporter.
But that would take time—several seconds, at least. And she could already see the studs on the transporter console lighting up, indicating that a transport was imminent.
Gathering what remained of her resolve, Gerda launched herself at her counterpart. This time, she didn’t [233] have the strength for a flying kick. All she could do was drive her shoulder into Gerda Idun’s ribs, making her release Simenon and stagger back from the transporter platform.
And before Gerda Idun could strike back, the energizing coils above the pad began to glow.
Gerda knew what that meant. Judging by the expression on Gerda Idun’s face, she knew as well.
The transport process had begun. In slightly more than a second, the coils would lock on to whatever matter was directly beneath them and begin breaking it down into its component molecules.
It would be disastrous for any living thing to mount the platform after that point. If Gerda Idun was going to return to her universe, she couldn’t delay.
Gerda saw the glint of panic in her counterpart’s eyes—the kind of desperation one might see in a cornered animal. Then she watched as Gerda Idun abandoned Simenon, leaped onto the transporter platform, and was bathed in a column of light.
Gerda Idun’s eyes were drawn to Nikolas—as if he were the last thing she wished to see in this universe. Then she faded into the light and was gone.
And a moment later, the column of light vanished as well—just as a couple of security officers rushed into the room, their phasers drawn to answer a threat that no longer existed.
Gerda gritted her teeth and forced herself to get up off the floor. As the two security officers went to Nikolas’s aid, she touched her combadge with the unburned heel of one hand.
[234] “Captain Picard,” she said, “this is Gerda. The transport is complete. We may leave.”
“Thank you,” said the captain, sounding eminently relieved.
It was nothing, Gerda thought. Then, determined to proceed under her own power, she walked out of the transporter room and headed for sickbay.
Picard didn’t know how his injured navigator had wound up in Transporter Room One, but he knew he could rely on the information she gave him.
Turning to his helm officer, he said, “Idun, take us out of here.”
“Aye, sir,” she returned, executing the command on her control console.
As the drastically shrunken anomaly and the Independent slipped off the viewscreen together in favor of an open starfield, Picard wondered if the Balduk would let them go or take one last shot at them.
He got his answer when Paxton said, “Sir, the Independent is releasing a full spread of photon torpedoes.”
Abruptly, the stars ahead of them turned into streaks of light, signifying a jump to warp speed. Picard moved to Idun’s seat and gripped the back of her chair.
“Aft view,” he commanded.
It showed him that they had left the Balduk behind, but they had yet to outrun the enemy’s torpedo barrage.
Picard addressed Idun. “Can we go any faster?”
She glanced at him. “We suffered a great deal of damage, sir. I’m pushing it as it is.”
“Push it a little harder,” he told her.
[235] “Aye, sir,” said the helm officer, and took them up to warp eight.
The captain could feel an unsettling shudder in the deckplates. Still, it was preferable to the jerk of photon-torpedo impacts.
And a moment later, the Balduk’s barrage began to diminish as it fell behind them.