Jetanien sighed. Klingon stubbornness. How many times has Diego warned me about it?
For a moment, his thoughts turned to his friend, still held prisoner in the station’s brig. Commodore Reyes had refused most visitors’ attempts to see him, and intellectually, Jetanien knew it was an appropriate stance to take. With a court-martial looming, the less anyone spoke to Reyes directly, the better off those people would be if and when they were summoned to testify.
None of that made Jetanien feel any better. Though there was precious little he could do for Reyes at this point, it had not saved him from the many sleepless nights he had spent in contemplation, examining the situation from every angle and hoping he might stumble across something previously overlooked.
He could not dwell on that now, he reminded himself. For the moment, he had far more pressing matters to address.
7
The disc sailed through the air, arcing over the heads of the children running to catch it. As it fell back toward the ground, it was caught by a girl with long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, who snagged the disc with one hand while sprinting across the grass. She pulled up, arresting her forward motion as she looked for a teammate. The other kids had closed the distance now, the other six members of her team vying for position on the field against the seven children acting as their opponents. Members of the girl’s team, wearing white shirts, bobbed and weaved around the kids wearing black shirts and trying to block or defend against any of them catching the disc. The field of play had shrunk now that the white team was nearing the goal line. One more throw would be enough to secure a score.
“Here! Over here! I’m open!”
From where she sat on the grass to one side of the area marked off for the playing field, Carol Marcus watched as her son, David, broke free of the boy trying to cover him and sprinted for the end zone, waving his hands above his head. Tall for his age, he stood nearly a head above his playmates. His blond curls were matted with sweat, and his face was flushed with exertion, but the boy—like his companions on the field—seemed not to care. All that mattered at the moment was the game.
Youth,Carol mused, watching with pride as David feinted right before darting to his left, avoiding his defender and leaving himself wide open as the brown-haired girl hurled the disc in his direction. It was low, but David compensated, diving toward the ground and catching the disc in both hands before sliding across the grass, well inside the end zone.
“Bravo!” Carol called out. Rising to her feet and allowing the book resting in her lap to fall to the grass, she applauded as David and his team celebrated their score. Their shouts of joy and excitement carried across the open expanse of park lawn making up this section of Fontana Meadow. For a brief moment, Carol could almost forget that they were not in a real park on Earth but instead taking advantage of Starbase 47’s terrestrial enclosure.
She smiled, watching as the defending team walked the length of the field toward the opposite end zone, the teams preparing to put the disc back into play. Some of the kids had been throwing the disc around to one another when she and David arrived at the park, and David had accepted their invitation to join in. Once enough children had shown up, they divided into teams and commenced playing, one team trying to advance up the field by passing the disc, with the other team defending by trying to intercept or knock down the disc. Though Carol had been watching the game for ten minutes, she had no idea what it was the kids actually were playing.
“They seem to be having a good time out there.”
Recognizing the voice, she turned to see Ezekiel Fisher standing behind her, dressed in beige trousers and an oversized maroon shirt. His hands were in his pockets, and his attention was focused on the playing field as David’s team threw the disc down the field to their opponents. Once again, the game was on.
“Dr. Fisher,” she said, turning toward him.
“Zeke,” replied the station’s CMO. “That’s what my friends call me, anyway.”
Marcus nodded. “Zeke, how is it that kids can run at full speed all afternoon and never seem to get tired?” she asked as Fisher stepped forward. “I can’t remember the last time I had that kind of energy.”
“The power of youth,” Fisher said, chuckling as the disc flew across the field with kids chasing after it. “If you don’t mind my asking, Doctor, how old is your son?”
“Please, call me Carol,” Marcus replied as she bent to retrieve her fallen book. “He’ll be six in a few weeks.”
Fisher nodded. “Tall for his age.”
“He’s growing like a weed, and he’s got a bottomless pit for a stomach,” Marcus said. “Do you have kids?”
“Oh, my, yes,” the physician replied. “Two sons and a daughter. They all have children of their own, all of them older than young David over there.” He paused, his gaze shifting to look somewhere across the meadow. “Saying that out loud just made me realize how old I really am.”
Marcus laughed, enjoying the conversation and how at ease she felt around the doctor. After a moment, she asked, “Was it hard for them, following you around as you moved from one duty assignment to another?”
“A lot of the time,” Fisher replied, “they and my wife stayed at home on Mars while I was doing the Starfleet shuffle. I think a stable home life worked better for the kids, rather than being uprooted every couple of years. Doesn’t mean I don’t regret not being around more when they were growing up.” He nodded toward the field. “How’s David adjusting to life here?”
Shrugging, Marcus said, “He seems to be doing okay. Leaving friends and a school he liked back on Earth was hard, and he sulked a bit the first couple of weeks we were here, but he’s been making friends.” She looked about the park. “It doesn’t hurt to have all of this to take advantage of. It’s not Earth, but at least it’s roomy. I think the last space station I was on would fit in a closet here.” She could sense where Fisher’s questions might be leading. “It’s probably harder on him, following me all over the place, without his father around. Unfortunately, that’s not an option.”
Fisher seemed satisfied not to pursue the discussion in that direction. Instead, he said, “Well, he looks as if he’s adjusting well enough. If he’s got half your strength, he’ll do just fine.” Turning to her, he asked, “So, what about you? How are youadjusting?”
“I feel like a first-year intern all over again,” Marcus said, releasing another laugh. Glancing around to be sure that her words would not carry to unwelcome listeners, she said, “I thought I had at least a decent idea of what I was getting into when I signed up for this, but boy, was I wrong.” Her original assignment had been to review all of the data and materials pertaining to the Shedai and their technology as collected by Lieutenant Ming Xiong and his team of research scientists, debrief Xiong and his people, and then take copies of all of that information and establish a second, secure facility. The result would be two independent groups, continuing the work begun here in parallel, as an added measure of security over all of Operation Vanguard.
Her ramp-up period was taking longer than she had expected, owing mostly to the incredible progress made by Xiong and his team. Despite the obstacles they faced as they worked to decipher the secrets of the Shedai, the information they had gathered was as staggering as the potential it represented. The Shedai’s apparent ability to control matter and energy in flawless harmony—manipulating and shaping it into any desired form or configuration—carried with it the possibility of advancing current knowledge across every field of science and technology. Whoever unlocked the mysteries surrounding that power and those who once wielded it might single-handedly affect the destiny of the galaxy for centuries to come.