With the shuttle no longer outside the Enterprise’s shields, it was now possible to beam its endangered human cargo aboard. Unfortunately, this entailed abandoning Columbus and the last several evacuees waiting back on Skagway, but that could not be helped. The evacuation was over now. All that remained was to stand guard over Skagway until it reached its inevitable end. Spock hoped that those left behind would make good use of what little time they had left.
“Transporter rooms reporting, sir.” Uhura was visibly relieved by the news. “The shuttle crew and passengers have been beamed aboard.”
On the viewer, Columbus veered away from the Enterprise. Spock assumed that Lieutenant Schneider had set an automatic course that would reduce the chance of any unwanted collisions. The tugs and scouts that had been shadowing the shuttle broke away from it to stay close to the starship instead. Spock watched as Columbus headed away from both Skagway and the Enterprise before slowing to a stop against the force-field barrier. In time, it, too, would be sucked in by the planet’s fluctuating gravity. A minor loss, compared with the epic tragedy facing the lunar colony.
“Shall I keep the shields extended, sir?” Chekov asked. “Now that our people have been beamed aboard?”
An excellent question, Spock mused. He was reluctant to abandon the refugee flotilla to its fate but wondered how long the Enterprise could be expected to shelter the fragile craft beneath its metaphorical wings. “Shield status?”
“Twenty-eight percent,” Chekov said dolefully. “Eighty-five percent of generator output diverted to deflectors. Other systems operating below capacity.”
The shields were consuming an excessive share of the ship’s energy and resources. Spock decided to issue one final warning to the hijacked vessels swarming the Enterprise.
“Lieutenant Uhura, inform the refugees that no further evacuees will be brought aboard the Enterprise. Alert them, as well, that we will be withdrawing the protection of our shields in exactly ten minutes. They are strongly advised to return to the safety of the colony.”
“Such as it is,” Qat Zaldana said sadly.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “Such as it is.”
He hoped none of the ships would attempt to ram its way through the Enterprise’s space doors into the landing deck. “Mr. Chekov, be on the alert for boarders. Fire on any vessel on an approach track for the shuttlebay.”
“Aye, sir.”
Proximity alarms sounded on the bridge.
“Mr. Spock!” Sulu called out. “I’m tracking a huge iceball… heading straight for us!”
He relayed the threat’s coordinates to the main viewer. An immense white object filled the screen, dwarfing the other missiles around it. At first, Spock thought that Sulu might have accidentally ordered full magnification, but a quick glance at the viewer settings, as displayed on his chair readouts, invalidated that theory.
“Bozhe moi!” Chekov blurted in his native tongue. “It’s as big as a house!”
“Distance two hundred meters and closing,” Sulu reported. “Azimuth twenty-one-point-six. Collision in one minute.”
“One minute, forty-eight seconds,” Spock corrected him. “Evasive action.”
“But there are ships all around us!” Sulu protested.
“And precisely nine hundred thirteen individuals aboard the Enterprise,” Spock stated. With their shields at less than thirty percent, they could not risk a collision of such magnitude. “Evasive maneuvers.”
“Aye, sir!” Sulu fought his control panel. “The helm’s not responding! It’s sluggish!”
The extended shields, Spock realized. They were consuming too many generators and subroutines at the expense of other systems, helm control among them. “Mr. Scott,” he ordered Engineering. “More power to the helm.”
On the viewer, the ice ball came at them like a mountain. Spock realized that they could not evade it. Nor were the diminished shields enough to deflect it.
“All hands and passengers! Brace for impact!”
Twenty-two
2020
The airlock was damp and uncomfortable. Free moisture had condensed on the bulkheads. Empty spacesuits were stowed on the walls. Rolled-up sleeping bags had been jammed into one corner. The cramped compartment had never been intended to house one prisoner, let alone two. Kirk found himself pining for the relative luxury of Shaun’s personal living quarters. It was hard to imagine spending the next three months there.
“So, Fontana really thinks you’re an impostor?” Zoe asked. She seemed bemused to find him sharing her cell.
He shrugged. “A minor misunderstanding.”
“Boy, I knew she was paranoid, but this takes the cake.”
He felt obliged to defend Fontana, who was just trying to protect her ship from an apparent intruder. He would have acted the same way as he had whenever an alien intelligence had possessed a member of his crew. The safety of the ship and other crew members always came first.
“She seems to think that I’ve changed since my encounter with the probe.”
“Well, duh,” Zoe said, floating freely around the compartment. “You had a close encounter with a genuine alien artifact and nearly got fried in the process. An experience like that is bound to have an impact on somebody. How couldn’t it?”
Kirk wished he had thought of that argument, not that it explained his memory lapses. “Did you notice a difference, too?”
“Absolutely. You seemed more… mysterious somehow, like you were hiding something important. It made you more interesting, to be honest, not to mention a good deal sexier.” She winked at him. “You know me, I love a mystery.”
So I gather. He remembered Zoe coming on to him shortly after he found himself aboard the Lewis & Clark. Had she picked up on the fact that he was guarding forbidden secrets? No doubt that would be catnip to an inquisitive journalist like her. Apparently, the real Shaun had not been nearly so tempting an enigma.
“I’m not sure Fontana feels the same way. I don’t suppose you’d care to explain that to her?”
“Talk sense to that green-eyed monster?” Zoe snorted at the notion. “Like she would ever listen to me, especially now.”
He had to agree. “Then it seems I’m here for the duration.”
“Sucks for you,” she said. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I appreciate the company… and how.”
She pushed off from the ceiling, launching herself toward him.
Kirk made no effort to avoid her but nodded at the closed-circuit camera monitoring the interior of the airlock. “Don’t forget. We have an audience.”
“No problem.” She peeled off her tank top and draped it over the lens of the camera. “Let them get their cheap thrills elsewhere.” She held her arms out, inviting him in. “C’mon, Skipper. I don’t know about you, but I could use a little human warmth right now.”
Kirk gazed at her enticing face and figure. Fontana had been right about another thing: he did find Zoe extremely attractive. He still wasn’t sure what Shaun would do right then, but maybe that didn’t matter so much anymore. He was already under arrest on suspicion of being an alien body snatcher; perhaps he might as well take advantage of the situation and Zoe’s generous charms.
“You know,” he said, “they’re going to notice that the video feed has been obstructed.”
“Then let’s not waste time.”