“Aye,” Mr. Scott agreed. “There are radiation burns, microfractures in the hull, fused circuits, even traces of extreme phase changes on the quantum level.” He whistled at the extent of the damage. “This thing was built to last, you can tell that even now, but it’s taken a heap of punishment over who knows how long. We’re talking a couple of level-twelve ion storms at the very least, disruptor fire, solar flares, maybe even a brush with a black star or two.”
“I see.”
Spock did not find the engineer’s report encouraging. He had hoped that the combined efforts of Mr. Scott and Qat Zaldana would yield some insights into the probe’s mission and origins, as well as some clue to its connection to the current crisis.
“Did you learn anything of use?” he inquired.
“Not really,” Qat Zaldana confessed. “To be honest, even if its internal workings were still intact, I’m not sure I’d be able to make head or tail of it. I’m no engineer like Mr. Scott here, but even I can tell that we’re dealing with technology that’s way beyond anything the Federation or its peers have come up with yet.” A rueful chuckle escaped her veil. “I feel like a medieval astrologer trying to make sense of a crashed Romulan bird-of-prey that was burned to a crisp on its way down.”
Spock sympathized with the challenge. He was tempted to examine the probe himself but doubted that he would find anything that Qat Zaldana or Mr. Scott had missed. Perhaps later, he mused, when the time comes to investigate the captain’s fate. At the moment, however, he had more pressing matters to attend to.
“We can take the bloody thing apart piece by piece,” Mr. Scott volunteered, “but I canna guarantee it will do any good. Not in time to help those poor souls on Skagway, at any rate.”
Spock nodded. “Very well. It appears that the probe will not provide an answer to our present dilemma. Let us put it aside for future study while we prepare the Enterprise to take on as many evacuees as possible. Mr. Scott, please see to it that all available cargo areas and recreational facilities are converted to temporary living quarters and that the ship’s life-support capabilities are operating at peak efficiency. We have a long way to go and a good many refugees to accommodate.”
The nearest starbase was more than three weeks away. Spock mentally calculated how many extra passengers the ship could support for that period of time, depending on various controllable factors. The numbers were not encouraging.
“What about the others?” Qat Zaldana asked. “The ones you can’t evacuate?”
“The Enterprise will remain to protect the colony for as long as it endures,” he promised her. “You, of course, are welcome to remain aboard until we reach a safer harbor.”
“Thank you,” she said somberly, “but I’ll have to think about that. It’s a hard decision, like being a passenger on the Titanic or the Solar Queen. Do you take a spot in the lifeboats or not? And if you do, how do you live with yourself afterward?”
“That is an emotional question. I cannot help you answer it,” Spock said. “I can only say that it would be a great loss if your intellect and scientific expertise were not preserved.”
“That’s nice of you to say, Mr. Spock, but… let me think about it. I’ll give you my answer when the time comes.”
Spock respected her wishes. There was still time, although not as much as he would have preferred. They now had twenty hours before Skagway entered the inner rings; he hoped to have all of the evacuees aboard by then. He wondered briefly what he would do in her place. Would it be logical to sacrifice himself to save another?
Possibly, depending on the circumstances. He had faced that choice before, as when he and Kirk and McCoy had been subjected to the Vians’ experiments in the Minervan system or when he had piloted a shuttle into the nucleus of a destructive space amoeba, but those had been matters of duty to the ship and his fellow officers. The needs of the many had outweighed the needs of the one. That did not necessarily apply in the case of Qat Zaldana and her fellow colonists.
He could only hope that she would choose to save herself.
Eighteen
2020
“Okay. It’s decided, then. We’re going home.”
Less than twenty-four hours after the fire, Kirk presided over a meeting on the flight deck. The mid-deck below had been meticulously scrubbed, but a smoky odor still wafted up from the scorched wreckage. Kirk and Fontana were strapped into the pilots’ seats, while O’Herlihy drifted restlessly around the compartment. Zoe was locked up in the airlock at the other end of the ship. Kirk hoped she was comfortable. He still wasn’t convinced that she was responsible for the fire.
“No surprise there,” Fontana said. “We probably should have turned back days ago.”
The nearly catastrophic fire had been the last straw as far as Houston was concerned. The decision had been made to cut the mission short, seven days early, and head back to Earth. Mission Control had already worked out a new flight plan, which had been uploaded to the ship’s computers. Granted, Earth was still three months away, but Houston wanted the ship back as soon as possible, before anything else could go wrong. From what Kirk gathered, NASA was still working overtime to keep all of the unexpected complications out of the press.
No wonder I’ve never heard of them, he thought. It was all covered up.
“The hell with that!” O’Herlihy swore. “It’s not fair! We haven’t finished our studies yet. What with all the commotion, we’ve barely even begun our surveys of Saturn’s magnetosphere, not to mention Titan and Enceladus and the other moons.” He turned toward the pilots, frustration written all over his face. “Are we sure we can’t get NASA to reconsider? Even with the loss of all that equipment in the mid-deck, there is still plenty to be done out here. Just think of all we could accomplish if we complete our mission!”
Kirk sympathized with the scientist’s disappointment. This had been a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for him. “I know how you feel, Marcus, but we’ve taken an important first step here. Future missions will carry on in our footsteps, count on it.”
He wished he could tell the other man that this was hardly the end of humanity’s exploration of Saturn and its moons and that someday there would be thriving colonies out this way. Kirk had recently spent an enjoyable layover on Titan during his most recent visit to Earth. The outer solar system was home to millions of intelligent beings in his time, not all of them human. The historic voyage of the Lewis & Clark had been just the beginning.
Fontana stared at him. “You’re taking this pretty philosophically,” she said. “Frankly, I expected you to make more of a fuss, instead of waxing eloquent about the future like this.” Her eyes narrowed. “It’s not like you.”
Kirk winced inwardly. Not for the first time, he wished that she hadn’t known the real Shaun Christopher quite so intimately. It wasn’t making his imposture any easier.
“Look, I’m not happy about this, either, but I can see Houston’s point of view.” He ticked off the reasons on his fingers. “The stowaway, the alien probe, the unexpected changes in Saturn’s rings and weather patterns, the fire, the possibility of arson. I can’t blame them for wanting to play it safe and cut their losses. If I was in charge, I’d probably feel the same way.”
In truth, he had profoundly mixed feelings about NASA’s decision. While this mission was definitely proving more perilous than anyone could have possibly anticipated, he was in no hurry to be reunited with Shaun’s friends and family. Trying to fool just his fellow astronauts, and especially Fontana, had been tricky enough. How on Earth, literally, was he going to face Shaun’s kids? Not to mention John Christopher.