The Demon Book 2 Read online

  “That’s the Dutiful Burden.”

  Wong checked his readings one more time and then turned to look at Gold over his shoulder. “No, Captain. There is another ship besides the Dutiful Burden.”

  “What? Center the viewscreen on that location.” The forward screen changed to show a familiar-looking vessel at some distance.

  “Magnify.” The screen zoomed forward several times, and Carol’s was not the only gasp.

  The da Vinci floated before their eyes.

  “What’s going on? That can’t be right.”

  “Of course it can,” Tev said.

  Everyone looked toward him and for just a moment he felt irritated. Had they not been at the briefing? Did all humans have such short-term memory?

  He snuffled. “We are passing through the photon sphere. The very name should explain what we’re witnessing.” He paused and another wave of irritation swept through, like the gravimetric waves that continued to increase in severity and duration, at their blank faces.

  “Light. The photon sphere is the distance above the event horizon when the force of the black hole’s gravity bends light into a perfect circumference. Our ship is sensing our ship; the forward sensors are picking up the visible light bent around the perimeter of the black hole, showing us the rear of our own vessel. If you stood outside at this moment, you’d look forward and only see the back of your head.” A look of strangeness glazed most of the bridge crew’s faces.

  The ghost-image of the da Vinci disappeared. The stars continued to be eaten up from beneath by the encroaching black.

  “Aft screen,” Gold ordered. His voice was solid.

  The screen switched viewpoints. Above them, the visible universe filled a shrinking hole, with outer darkness stretching across the da Vinci’s side and in front. Tev turned back to his sensors.

  Magnificent.

  Most of the bridge crew only attempted to assimilate this experience with the weakest sensory input at their disposal. Vision would never scratch the surface of what he experienced. Looking down at several monitors, he could see the full glory.

  The gravimetric waves were pulled in from every direction, across unimaginable distances, to crash and thrash. He normally did not give in to such imagery, but Tev admitted that the rage of lines on his monitor reminded him of nothing so much as living tentacles, thrashing, stretching, attempting in a futile frenzy to save themselves from the inevitable plunge into the event horizon.

  Another screen glowed almost incandescent with a fountain of energy that shot millions of miles out into space from the direction of the black hole, cascading out in every direction. Hawking radiation blazed as though it desired to create a sun to compensate for the destruction occurring on such a fantastic level.

  Yet another screen showed the Einstein Rings, along with measurements depicting how much relative time occurred outside the photon sphere, compared with their current position; at each forward movement, the time dilation increased.

  Commander Gomez would appreciate the mathematical perfection of this event.

  That last thought troubled him for a moment. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and felt the pull of his uniform across his chest. Tev didn’t like emotions and thoughts he could not pinpoint. After a moment, however, it became painfully obvious. His irritation at the crew had nothing to do with their inability to grasp the splendor around them. Of course they’d be unable to. What irritated him was that he wished Commander Gomez were here. Not simply so that he could impress her, to show that “this” is what he’d done for her lately. No, he simply wished to share this moment with an equal.

  He startled. An equal.

  Bartholomew Faulwell slipped up near Tev. “I wish there was something I could do,” he said.

  Tev nodded. He had found himself thinking along similar lines in the last few hours, and he didn’t like the feeling of that one bit. “You shouldn’t be on the bridge,” he said, but low.

  “Yes. That’s likely true.” He was also just as obviously waiting for Tev to order him away.

  Tev shuffled awkwardly from one foot to the other. He honestly did not want Bartholomew to leave. At the last few briefings, Bartholomew was the only crew member to actively press for Tev’s friendship. Most of the crew did not seem to know how to approach the Tellarite, and Tev was equally stymied when it came to social relations. He wished Gomez were here as an equal. Bartholomew should be allowed to stay as a possible friend.

  “If you are going to stay,” Tev said, never taking his eyes from the screen, “you might find me one of those apple rancher candies you seem to enjoy carrying about.”

  Bartholomew smiled, reached into a pocket, and pulled out two twists of clear cellophane. Inside was a hard, green candy. He set one carefully on the edge of Tev’s panel, where the Tellarite could reach it when he wanted, when he could. He unwrapped the other for himself.

  Tev reached for the candy, but then stopped when a screen lit with red tones and an incessant beeping warned of a drastic change in status. Tev’s mammoth eyebrows rose alarmingly.

  “Captain?”

  “Yes, Tev?” His voiced sounded as though he were not really paying attention; the Demon simply held too much power. That would change fast.

  “The Resaurian vessel has unlatched its tractor beam from the da Vinci.”

  “Why is that a problem?”

  “Because it’s latched on to the gravity anchor.” Tev looked up to find Gold’s full attention focused on him.

  “But that means—”

  He nodded. Why did events conspire against his every plan? “The anchor will self-destruct even faster.”

  Faulwell paled. The cryptographer shook his head in denial. “But…but do they realize that?” It was a good question, and Captain Gold nodded that Tev should answer.

  “I do not know.”

  “They just might,” Abramowitz said. Tev looked to find the cultural specialist’s composure had returned. Only a slight wildness to the eyes indicated she stood on the bridge of a ship inside the photon sphere of a black hole.

  “Remember how traditionalist they are. From what you told me, Captain, it looked as though this Captain S’linth may have been deposed by the councilman and the overseer.” Another wave caused everyone to stumble. Abramowitz grabbed on to a seat and immediately continued.

  “With such a desire to keep this knowledge from the general populace, they might just sacrifice the entire space station, perhaps themselves as well, to see that secret kept. How many centuries have they kept it till now? Quite easy to take it to the next level.”

  Tev hated it when politics intruded upon the beauty of his scientific universe, but he could not fault Abramowitz’s logic. It made all too much sense.

  “Tev, how quickly will we reach the station?” Gold said.

  “Not quickly enough, Captain.” He turned to verify with his monitor, his hands grasping the edge of the monitor as though he could pressure it into giving a different answer. Commander Gomez was on that ship.

  “Wong, ahead one-half impulse.”

  “Captain!” Tev interrupted, rising to his feet in alarm. “You cannot do that.”

  Gold turned stormy eyes on Tev; one did not countermand the captain’s orders.

  “The gravimetric waves are too strong. Right now, at a quarter impulse, we are pushing the limits of our shields.” Tev thought furiously, trying to find an analogue the captain would understand. “Imagine a boat pushing full forward through a heavy water storm. The hull would smash into the wall of the waves, instead of flowing with the movement; the hull will shatter.”

  Gold continued to stare angrily at him for a moment and then shook his head. “Then we’ve lost.”

  “No. I believe there is a way we can actually reach the station even faster. However, there is inherent risk—not as much as pushing forward with impulse engines, but more than what we risk now.”

  Gold chuckled and leaned back in his seat. How had he amused the captain?

 
; “Tev, we’re in a black hole. Everything we do is a risk. What is it?”

  “Currently we are using the impulse engines to move forward, but it also keeps us at a set speed; a velocity we can manipulate. If we cast ourselves adrift, we will ride the gravimetric waves. This will create a jarring ride, but one that we should survive. One that should get us to the station before the gravity anchor disintegrates.”

  “Flotsam, eh?” Gold said. He looked speculative for a moment and then nodded his head. “After everything we’ve done, this is no crazier. Wong, I believe you heard the man.”

  “Yes, sir. And, Captain—I never thought I’d be trying to grab a good wave with a starship.”

  “I don’t think any of us did, Wong. Not at all.”

  Chapter

  9

  This part of the station was the best kept, Sonya noticed right away. Clean and in good repair. Corridors painted in bright and cheerful yellows, soothing greens, and sky blues. Branching corridors ran off to either side, with the doors to living quarters standing open in warm invitation to neighbors, to friends. A warm, spiced-meat aroma filled one passage, and she knew that someone was cooking a meal nearby. Actually cooking—no replicators here.

  Several Resaurians stood around talking, seemingly oblivious to the danger they were in. They evidenced little surprise seeing a pair of humanoids under escort through their living area. Only when the station shook with a new tremor did they glance around self-consciously. As if wondering what they should be doing to help.

  “They don’t know how bad it is, do they?” she asked Es’a.

  “They know. But we’ve lived with the fear of this day all our lives. Panic will help no one.” He gestured to an open double-wide archway. “In here.”

  They passed from the corridor, stepping out onto grassy lawns, looking up into an ochre sky. Fruit-laden trees spread thick branches overhead, offering rest to a number of brightly feathered birds and shade from the blazing orange sun to the Resaurian young who slither-ran and played on the pale grasses. Sonya stopped in amazement. This was the largest space-born arboretum she could remember seeing in her career, obviously coupled with holographic technology to complete the illusion of a true outdoor park.

  Rennan Konya found his voice first.

  “Dozens. Hundreds.” He counted the smaller Resaurians with their blue-green scales and slender upper bodies. Nearby a larger youth picked at the beginnings of his shedding. Beneath a dull, waxy peel of skin, his scales were coming in dark and coral red. Rennan watched with fascination. The full implications were just beginning to hit. “There are no survivors from the original prisoners, are there?”

  Sonya knew the answer, but let Es’a take it. “No,” the Resaurian admitted. “Finding a way to lessen the time dilation was one of our first priorities. It gave our forebears a chance to escape before too much real time passed on our homeworld.”

  Ulsah slithered up and nestled against him. He wrapped an arm around her. “We solved our infertility problem not long after.”

  And then dealt with overpopulation concerns, diminishing resources, and the very real stress of raising families in such a contained environment. Sonya glanced over to a picnic spread where two youngsters ate food while playing atonal music from a small portable device. It looked so normal, it tempted her to smile. “You’ve kept everyone conditioned for an indoor-out-door life, in case escape ever happened.” She approved.

  “So what is the issue?” Rennan asked her. “We get back in touch with the da Vinci, and you engineers work your miracles and get everyone out of the Demon.” He looked to Es’a. “You tell your people not to sabotage the attempt this time, and we get you home.”

  Sonya shook her head. “For a Betazoid, you can be fairly dense at times, Rennan. Es’a’s faction did not sabotage our escape efforts. S’eth’s faction did. For the same reason they originally resisted the attempt to use the station’s anchoring shields to attempt an escape. They will not endanger their children, no matter how strong their drive for personal freedom.”

  “It is worse than that,” Es’a explained. “Our forebears were the forward-thinkers of their generation. Many of us—most of us—remain true to that predisposition. But some traditionalist behavior creeps back into our culture here. S’eth fights to preserve what he has known his entire life.”

  “And there is a real danger,” Sonya admitted. “S’eth’s father discovered it. The power distribution system is set up in a carefully calibrated manner that any radical change in gravitational pull outside the shielding will cause harmonic fluctuations and force a feedback surge into the fusion reactors.”

  Rennan looked at Sonya. “Let me guess. Boom?”

  “More like a fizzle. Lights out.” Which meant shields dropping that suddenly exposed the entire station to the full gravitational effects of the black hole. “The tidal forces would rip the station to pieces. That’s what I’ve been working on for the past few hours.”

  “About done?” he asked with a wry smile.

  Not asking for much, was he? Sonya felt a sudden urge to punch the man. She did smile this time, when Rennan stepped back into a wary stance. She also liked the way his hand came up to protect his gut, where she had earlier slipped in an elbow. Served him right.

  “Just about. I’m using an application developed by La Forge and Brahms. I think it will hold up.”

  “You think?”

  She nodded. The station shook again. Was it her imagination, or were the tremors getting worse?

  Rennan shifted uneasily, then shrugged. “Good enough for me,” he decided. Reaching out slowly, he rubbed a thumb against the outside of her ear. It came away dark with grease. “Since you’re going to play the diplomat,” he said, “you should look the part. What’s your plan?”

  Sonya rubbed the flat of her palm against the same ear, making certain the last of the smudge was gone, and helping hide her flush of embarrassment. Turning to business, she looked to Es’a, who waited patiently with his mate and a growing number of Resaurian adults.

  “I think,” she said slowly, her plans forming even as she spoke, “we should arrange for a reunion.”

  Chapter

  10

  A wild ride. That was all you could call it.

  Captain Gold, clinging to his chair to avoid being dumped to the ground once more, enjoyed it. He could admit that. He’d never been surfing before, but after this, he just might take it up.

  “Engineering to bridge.”

  Gold reached up and tapped his combadge. “Gold here. Go ahead, Conlon.”

  “Captain, we’ve almost got full power restored. This ride has actually given us the time to take the warp core off-line momentarily, recalibrate, and restart. That did the trick for most of the systems. The rest, unfortunately, are burned out and will likely need to be replaced at the source.”

  “Good. Keep me posted.”

  “Yes, sir. Conlon out.”

  Gold turned toward Tev. “Tev, how we looking?”

  “We are closing in on the station even now; estimated contact in five-point-four-five minutes.”

  “And the gravity anchor?”

  “I cannot be certain when it will fail, but its density is fracturing. There can be no doubt failure is imminent.”

  “I understand, Tev.”

  The Resaurian station now filled the forward viewscreen: an insignificant piece of flotsam desperately clinging to existence above God’s drainpipe. Just over a thousand meters long, the station was a large one indeed. Two cylindrical objects rose perpendicular (above and below) toward its stern, while several large extensions thrust down from amidships. A particularly large extension sat amidships on the starboard side.

  “Captain, we’re now within fifty-five seconds of the station.”

  “Wong,” Gold said in response to Tev’s warning, “prepare to engage impulse power upon my mark.” Gold leaned back, rubbed his hands on his face, and then roughed his hair. How many hours had he been without real sleep?
/>   After all they’d been through, it looked as though they just might be on the verge of saving the ship from falling farther. Of course the problem he’d been ignoring for some time now would no longer be kept in abeyance. He sighed and glanced over at Tev again.

  “Tev, when we latch on to the station, we can keep it from falling farther toward the event horizon, correct?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “But how do we get out again?”

  He noticed Tev straighten slightly, a small smile creasing his porcine face. “The previous plan I had for saving the gravity anchor will be able to pull us back out of the gravity well and past the photon sphere. I’m confident the twin dekyon beams—the bootstrapping you called it—will be more than adequate for the task.”

  “You say it will be adequate to rescue the da Vinci. But will it rescue our vessel and that mammoth station?”

  Tev’s eyebrows lowered until he almost couldn’t see the Tellarite’s coal black eyes. Obviously he hadn’t made considerations for that, and it irked him. “No, Captain, it will not.”

  “I know you’ll come up with something.”

  If possible, Tev became even more stiff. “Back to the drawing board, Captain.”

  Gold nodded, keeping his emotions tightly leashed. The worry that had plagued him as a nightmare from the start of this whole mess reared its ugly head once more. He’d lost so many people at Galvan VI. Now, it appeared as though those events might repeat themselves, with much more dire effect. The team he’d ordered onto the station had to be rescued. Had to be. But at the cost of the rest of the crew? Had he been determining his course of action based upon those dead ghosts that called to him? Had he put himself, and more importantly his ship and crew, in danger to try to make up for what had gone before?

  The sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach warned him that that might be exactly what had occurred.

  And in his next thought, he felt the right of it.

  “Captain,” Tev interrupted his reverie, “the gravity anchor has torn away. Both the station and the alien vessel have begun a freefall.”