“We got what we need,” one of the Cyrians said with some reluctance. “Let’s go.”
The others grumbled, but that one seemed to be in charge, and they finally indicated their assent. They all dropped what they held and made their way to the door, trying to give Kyle as wide a berth as they could. He knew they’d destroy him in a fight, of course—he was just one man, and although he was strong and athletic and driven by fury, Cyrians in general were bigger and more powerfully built than even the biggest humans. But he figured anyone who’d loot the homes of people driven out by invasion wasn’t the bravest guy on the block, and even with numbers on their side, these looters would rather have easy pickings in uninhabited apartments than risk injury or worse at his hands.
When they were gone, he went to the hiding place where he had stashed his money and false identification papers, under a loose floorboard concealed by his bed. He shoved the bed aside and pried up the board, and everything was still where he’d left it, wrapped in a cloth bag. He scooped it all up and pocketed it, then did a quick scan to see if there was anything else he needed. Clothing and toiletries would be nice, but he could always acquire more, and he didn’t want to look like a man who was traveling. He ended up grabbing a holoimage of Michelle and stuffing it into a pocket, and then he left the rest for the looters.
The first barrage hit the building while he was still running down the stairway. The whole structure shook under the assault. Plaster flew, and a wall opposite him imploded into dust. The staircase groaned and swayed. Kyle gripped the banister to steady himself and continued down, hurtling five and six steps at a time. He heard screams and shouts from elsewhere in the building—probably the looters, he suspected, since he hadn’t seen any of the residents around. At least, he hoped it was them—poetic justice if they were trapped inside the building when it came down.
Another wave hit and this time more walls blew in. Dust and debris rained down on Kyle. Above, he saw powerful energy beams lance through the walls, leaving further destruction in their wake. He leapt the last flight of stairs and landed awkwardly on the lobby floor, his feet slipping out from beneath him on the slick, dust-coated tiles. But he caught himself on his palms, righted himself and sprinted for the door.
Outside, he saw machines of war rolling toward the building, already loosing another fusillade against it. Infantry troops supported the tanks. They spotted Kyle running from the building, but ignored him; just another homeless refugee. When he was almost a block away he heard another, still louder boom, and glanced back to see most of his building collapse in a massive cloud.
The rest of the day had passed, like the building, in the cloud of dust and smoke—mostly obscured, always uncertain, never far from danger. He worked his way out of The End, joining the throngs of other refugees trying to escape the morning assault. Once beyond the boundaries of the neighborhood, the castaways scattered into every direction. The Cyrian authorities didn’t seem to have developed any kind of a plan except for the attack. There was no one except the soldiers to provide any direction for the refugees, and they didn’t seem to have a clue, which meant no order to the evacuation. The newly homeless drifted wherever they chose. Some keened or wailed in their sadness, but most simply wept quietly or were silent, faces caked and streaked with tears, eyes wide and haunted. Most didn’t seem to have any plan or goal, which was the main thing that set them apart from Kyle.
He very definitely did. Much as he’d done more than a year ago back on Earth, he made his way to the nearest shuttle port. Security was tight because of all the military activity at The End, but it was nothing that some carefully applied bribery couldn’t overcome. He wound up booking passage on the next departure from the planet—traveling, in fact, with the families of some of Cyre’s richest inhabitants, being sent off-world until things calmed down there. That ship took him to an orbital spaceport where he was able, after a couple of days’ wait, to find a berth on a passenger and trading ship headed for Tau Ceti. From there, he knew, he could catch a ride back to Earth.
The journey had taken weeks, and put Kyle back in the uncomfortable position of having to tell a brand new set of lies to everyone he met. But his return, he knew, probably wouldn’t be quite as discreet as his departure had been. He was pretty sure that enough time had passed that Starfleet Security wouldn’t be combing every incoming ship for him, and that his fake identification was good enough to get him back to San Francisco safely. From there, though, he’d have to come up with a new plan—he couldn’t afford to believe that whatever plot had forced him away had simply collapsed on its own. But he had also come to understand that working out his troubles from such a great distance just wasn’t going to be effective.
He had combed through all the records on his padd. He had examined every interaction he could remember ever having had with another individual—and that had been painful indeed, at times. He had even recalled as much as he could about his family’s history, in case this was some ancient grudge rearing its head. None of that had proven particularly helpful. Kyle came from a long line of soldiers, all of whom, by definition, had enemies. He also came from a long line, he realized, of taciturn men who kept their own confidences. Riker men weren’t the type to share their feelings or their fears with others. If any of them had made an enemy who hated them enough to chase down their descendants, they would have tried to battle it themselves, but they would not have talked about it.
As a result, Kyle had come up empty, and he felt that emptiness tug at him with new urgency. Earth blossomed below, closer with every passing minute. As it did, he felt his stomach tighten with anxiety. He had, for a long while, escaped his problems, even though he had found new ones along the journey. But now he was returning to the root of it all, no better off than he had been before.
With one exception. Now, he felt ready to face it. No more Tholian flashbacks, no post-traumatic stress disorder, no more physical or mental weakness relating to Starbase 311. He was as fit as he’d ever been. He was still in mourning over Michelle, but that just made him madder, sharpened his edge. Kyle Riker was walking into unknown trouble, but he would be ready for it when it came.
Chapter 30
Captain Erik Pressman cut a commanding figure on the bridge of his ship, the U.S.S. Pegasus.Will realized that it might have just been because he was still feeling slightly awed by even being on board a starship—being posted to a starship as an officer, that was, rather than simply visiting as a cadet. But the captain seemed to feel so comfortable there. He gave the impression of a man who knew his way around the ship, and his crew was appropriately deferential to him. The man stood straight and though he was not a conventionally handsome man, he radiated command and authority. His uniform hung nicely on his slender but powerful frame. He had a broad, gleaming forehead, and his mouth and jaw were set and determined. All in all, he looked every bit the military man that Will had hoped to serve under.
Pressman was standing behind the captain’s chair looking toward the turbolift doors when Will, in the company of First Officer Barry Chamish, stepped onto the bridge of the Pegasusfor the first time. He looked at Will appraisingly, just the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his wide mouth.
“Captain Pressman,” Commander Chamish said, “I’d like to introduce your new helm officer. This is Ensign William T. Riker.”
Will saluted. Captain Pressman returned the salute, and then extended his hand. Will stepped forward and took it. “Welcome aboard, Ensign,” the captain said, shaking Will’s hand firmly and then releasing it. “Outstanding Academy record. I look forward to having you on the team.”
“I look forward to being part of it, sir,” Will said, with all sincerity.