At least I got to kiss him good-bye.
It was all too much. An overwhelming sense of exhaustion caught up with her, and she swayed unsteadily in her seat. Despite the lack of gravity, her limbs felt as if they were growing heavier by the moment. Her arms drifted limply at her sides. Bottled-up emotions bubbled up inside her, spilling out into the cockpit.
“Oh, Marcus! I’m not sure I can handle this. What if he’s really gone for good?”
“Don’t worry,” he said in a comforting tone. Capturing her hand, he patted it gently. “It’s all right. It will all be over soon.”
Huh? What did he mean by that?
“Maarcusss…?” She slurred his name, suddenly finding it hard to speak. Her tongue felt as if it was wrapped in foil, like one of the snacks on the meal tray. The tea bottle slipped free of her fingers. She felt groggy and light-headed. A jolt of panic briefly dispelled the fog enveloping her mind. She watched the loose bottle drift away.
The tea, she realized in shock. It was doped.
O’Herlihy had drugged her.
She tried to ask him why, but all she could manage was a single mumbled syllable. “Whyyy…”
“I’m sorry, Alice. I truly am.” His mournful face blurred before her eyes. He plucked the tainted bottle from the air and returned it to the tray. His deep, sepulchral voice seemed to be coming from light-years away. “I’m proud to have served beside you and Shaun. You have to believe me.”
The flight deck seemed to be spinning around her. Creeping shadows, as black as space, encroached on her field of vision. Her eyelids drooped.
“It’s better this way,” he said. “You won’t feel a thing.”
The darkness swallowed her up.
Twenty-one
2270
“Skagway approaching the inner rings, sir.”
Chekov once again manned his post on the bridge. Unfortunately, the situation had only worsened since his earlier attempts to defend the colony. As the errant moon neared the fringe of the rings, it came under assault from multiple vectors. There was no clear line of demarcation between the gap and the inner rings, so Skagway was already crossing into the path of orbiting debris. The potential for collisions increased, even as the barrage from the outer rings accelerated. Ice and dilithium crystals of varying sizes battered the lunar colony and the surrounding terrain. On the viewer, geysers of pulverized rock and ice erupted from the moon whenever a sizable meteor struck home. The dome’s fading shields flickered ominously.
“I can see that, Ensign,” Spock replied from the captain’s chair. He spoke a bit more sharply than he intended; he had not slept in days, and fatigue was taking its toll on his Vulcan reserve. He frowned at the screen. The crisis had escalated even faster than he had calculated. The evacuation was not yet complete. “Maintain defensive fire.”
Targeted widespread phaser salvos broke apart the boulder-sized ice balls into smaller particles that continued to slam into the moon and the vulnerable colony. Despite the crew’s best efforts, an ever-increasing number of meteors made it past the phasers to hit the moon. The dome shuddered visibly under the assault. Hairline cracks began to show on its surface. Spock assumed that repair crews were frantically attempting to shore up the failing dome from the inside.
Nor was Skagway alone under siege. Although the Enterprise was cruising above the rings, it was still being buffeted by random debris escaping their orbits. The bridge rocked beneath Spock. Repeated impacts tested their deflectors. A blow to the port side of the saucer jarred him, almost throwing him from his seat. Over by the turbolift entrance, a yeoman stumbled against a rail. Her data slate clattered onto the floor.
“Shields at seventy-two percent,” Chekov reported.
That was less than ideal, Spock noted, but his primary concern remained the colony, which was in a far more precarious situation than the Enterprise. He calculated that the dome had at most ninety minutes before it was breached beyond repair. While there were limited emergency shelters beneath the moon’s surface, he suspected that few colonists, if any, would still be alive by the time Skagway made it through the inner rings to spiral into the turbulent atmosphere and crushing pressure of Klondike VI. In any event, the moon itself would soon be lost in the gas giant’s swirling depths.
“Evacuation status?” he asked.
“Still under way,” Qat Zaldana reported from the science station. She had volunteered to act as their liaison with the colony during the evacuation efforts. “Four hundred seventy-eight colonists are aboard, but there are still thirty-two more en route and waiting down on Skagway.” She looked away from her monitors. “We’re going as fast as we can, but this is a huge job. And that storm out there isn’t making it any easier.”
Spock appreciated the challenges involved. Shuttles had been employed around the clock to ferry the evacuees from Skagway to the Enterprise, but each shuttle could carry only twenty passengers at most. Tearful farewells at the spaceport had slowed the process, too, or so he was informed. Under the circumstances, however, he could hardly begrudge the colonists their emotions. He could only imagine what it would be like to lose one’s home and family to a cosmic disaster. Not even a Vulcan could be unmoved by such a catastrophe.
“If only we could just beam those people aboard,” Qat Zaldana lamented. “We’d be done by now.”
“That would require lowering the colony’s shields, as well as our own,” Spock reminded her, “which is hardly advisable under the circumstances. Even leaving the shuttlebay doors unshielded during landings and departures constitutes a significant risk.”
“I know,” she said. “It’s just so frustrating. We can’t even take everybody as it is.”
Per the governor’s orders, children and adolescents had been evacuated first, followed by rank-and-file miners, assayers, technicians, clerks, and others who were not required to keep the colony functioning. Governor Dawson, her staff, emergency crews, and other essential personnel had chosen to remain at their posts until the end.
Spock was impressed by their courage and dedication in the face of certain death. There were those on Vulcan who did not understand why he chose to serve aboard a starship crewed primarily by humans. Many of his fellow Vulcans, he knew, regarded humans as regrettably illogical and questioned his willingness to live among them. Moments like this reminded him that there was more to the human race than their often flagrant emotionality and made him quietly proud of his human half.
“Continue evacuation procedures,” he instructed. “Save as many as we can.”
“Aye, sir,” Uhura said. “Columbus reports that it is taking off from Skagway now with a fresh load of evacuees. Galileo is preparing to head back to the colony.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Spock replied. “Urge them to exercise all necessary caution.”
With the barrage of high-velocity particles increasing in intensity, the shuttle flights were growing steadily riskier. Already, the shuttles had been forced to blast their way through the hailstorm with their shields on full.
Qat Zaldana turned the science station over to Lieutenant Kwan, who had been standing by to assist her. She crossed the shaking bridge to the command module, holding on to the safety rails to keep from losing her balance. Tremors rocked the floor beneath her feet.
“Mr. Spock,” she said quietly. “The moment has come. With your permission, I would like to board the last shuttle down to Skagway. Somebody else can take my place aboard the Enterprise.”