The Returned, Part III Page 8

  His charge came with no warning. Indi gasped as Shintar Han came straight at Robin, whipping the knife back and forth so that she would be unable to stop it.

  Robin watched him carefully, timed the speed of the blade, and waited until he had committed himself to his blow. Then she stepped sideways, the thrust of the blade jabbing forward to where she had just been standing. Han lunged, his thrust overextended.

  She caught his arm and kept it rigid. He was unable to move in either direction because she had locked him in midstride. Their faces were extremely close, and she neither smiled nor frowned but simply stared into his eyes. There was coldness and cruelty in her expression.

  Then she twisted.

  An audible snap erupted in the room, and Shintar Han let out a high-pitched, agonized shriek. His hand went limp, and the knife fell out of his nerveless fingers. Pain ripped up and down his arm, and he howled so loudly that his ancestors may well have heard him and scowled at his weakness.

  His legs gave way and he started to sag, but he did not fall because Robin kept him standing. “Do we understand each other?” she asked in a harsh whisper. “Have I made myself clear?”

  “Yes! Yes! O Awesome, yes!”

  “Good,” she said, and she stepped back, throwing her hands wide and allowing Han to slip to the floor. He did so, landing heavily and groaning. He stared in horror at his right arm, which was now distended and hanging limply.

  To his astonishment, Robin now knelt next to him. She gripped his arm tightly and said, “I’ve dislocated your arm. I’m going to shove it back in. Relax.”

  “Are you joking?!”

  “No, I’m not. Take a deep breath and let it out slowly. On the count of three. One . . . two . . . three!”

  She shoved on his arm in just the right manner and the arm snapped back into his shoulder. Han screamed in agony, and the world seemed to swirl around him, transforming into streaks of black and white. He fell backward, and this time Robin made no effort to support him. He lay on his back, thrashing around, grabbing at his right shoulder with his left hand and continuing to moan for long seconds afterward.

  Robin got to her feet. She was still holding the knife, having tucked it into her belt. Now she tapped it on her open palm. “I could have killed you,” she said calmly. “Could have taken the knife and slashed it right across your throat. Instead I chose to let you live. I invite you to extend the same courtesy to me.”

  At which point Indi stepped forward, shaking her head. “But I suspect he won’t. He’ll probably go right on trying to come up with ways to dispatch you. If you have any care for your life or your son’s life, you’ll cut him down right now.”

  “That’s loyalty,” growled Shintar Han.

  “I owe you no loyalty,” Indi said to him, making no effort to keep the snarl out of her voice. “I stood by and watched as you planned to kill a woman and her child. But it seems the woman wasn’t as helpless as you thought, was she?”

  “It would seem not.” Han had managed to get to his feet and was now sitting on the edge of the couch, rubbing his shoulder. “I assume that was the point of this exercise? To show that you are not helpless.”

  “The point was to show that I could have slain you but chose not to. That is the entirety of it. Now, get out of my house.”

  Shintar Han simply nodded. He rose and headed for the door.

  “Try to kill me again,” Robin called after him, “and you will see that you have experienced the last of my mercy.”

  He walked out without saying another word, and the door slid shut behind him.

  Suddenly there was a burst of light, and an instant later McHenry was standing in the living room, looking extremely bewildered.

  “What’d I miss?” he asked.

  ii.

  SHINTAR HAN STUMBLED into his office and came around his desk to his chair. He sank into it and let out a deep and frustrated sigh.

  He had no idea what in the hell had just happened. He had walked in with a god covering his back, and suddenly the god had vanished and he had wound up in hand-to-hand combat with Robin Lefler, and she had easily demolished him. How in the world had he allowed himself to get dragged into a battle with her?

  Because of pride, that’s how. He knew that she had challenged him because she’d been sure that he wouldn’t have the nerve to launch an assault. He had thought that by acting contrary to her beliefs, he would catch her off guard and strike her down. Had he managed to accomplish that, he would easily have been able to dispose of the child. He doubted that Indi would have done anything to stop him from doing so. He knew that she was, at heart, a coward, and he would have been able to bully her aside.

  Instead Robin Lefler had handily disposed of him. He should have known that she had received battle training from Starfleet. He should have anticipated being outmatched. Instead he had gone into the fight convinced that he could take her down. He should have known that he was being set up to fail. He had no training in combat; he was a politician, not a warrior. Lefler had disposed of him easily because he had allowed himself to be manipulated into a situation where she could do so.

  Granted, she had no protector. McHenry had been taken away by the Awesome, or Q, or whatever he was calling himself. That left Robin and her son vulnerable to attack. But Han was reluctant to take any action against her. She had disposed of him handily enough. Who knew what she might do to anyone else who attacked her?

  Still . . .

  “I could do it,” he muttered. “I could find someone to go in and kill her. That failed before because McHenry was there. But he’s gone and—”

  “He’s back.”

  Shintar Han jumped and cried out in shock, gasping and clutching at his chest while simultaneously feeling humiliated that he had overreacted in that manner. Nevertheless it took him several moments to compose himself and realize what had just happened.

  The Awesome had appeared in his office. He had done so in a most casual fashion and was now seated in the chair opposite the desk. He seemed rather amused that Han was visibly startled by his unexpected return. “Are you all right?” he asked, in a tone that was meant to be conciliatory but mostly sounded sarcastic. “You seem a bit discommoded.”

  “Where did you go?!”

  “You raise your voice to your god?” asked the Awesome. He sounded entertained by the idea rather than angry.

  Nevertheless Han reined in his frustration, aware of the fact that Q could erase him from existence with but a casual thought. “I was just wondering where you had disappeared to.”

  Q seemed to give his answer some thought. “Heaven,” he said finally. “You would call it heaven. I brought McHenry there to discuss the current situation with him.”

  “And you didn’t leave him there?”

  “I suppose I could have,” said Q with a shrug. “I could have whipped up some manner of prison that would have kept him immobilized. But where would the fun be in that?”

  “Fun?” Han was having a great deal of trouble maintaining his calm. He stopped, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “Your Awesomeness, with all respect, this is not supposed to be about fun. This is supposed to be about removing a threat to the ongoing peace of New Thallon.”

  “The child presents no threat to the peace. He presents a threat to your ongoing power. We both know that, so kindly do not attempt to insult me by presenting any other opinion.”

  “Yes, of course, the child presents a threat, but to much more than my power . . .”

  Q stared at him. That was all. Just stared at him. Han realized that he could not continue to meet that level gaze, and he lowered his eyes.

  “Now that we understand each other,” said Q, “we can focus on the situation that has to be dealt with. I need to dispose of Mark McHenry. But that is not easily done. He has a considerable amount of power.”

  “More than yo
u?” asked a stunned Han.

  Q snorted derisively. “Of course not. I can get rid of him with a thought.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” said Q, who appeared to be anything but. “But I believe that we must deal with this matter in a manner that will be satisfying for all.”

  “And that would be?”

  “A contest,” Q said. “A contest that McHenry cannot possibly win. When he loses the contest, he will voluntarily take himself out of the mix and leave Robin Lefler and her child to me. In doing so, we crush not only his power but his spirit. That is how you triumph over someone who can present problems.”

  “All right,” said Han, starting to feel better about the entire situation. “And what will the nature of this contest be?”

  “Why, combat,” Q assured him. “Something in the spirit and style of ancient Rome, I would think.”

  “Ancient what?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about,” Q said dismissively. “You needn’t concern yourself. I will arrange everything.”

  “How do you know that McHenry will be willing to cooperate in this contest?”

  “Oh, believe me,” Q said with a smile, “he’ll have no choice whatsoever. I can assure you of that.”

  Excalibur

  BURGOYNE WAS ON hir feet in an instant, eyes wide in shock. “Where is he? Where did he go?” S/he whirled to face Tobias. “Tania—”

  “It’s the Dayan! It has to be,” said Tania, fighting to keep her voice even and professional. “They beamed him right off the bridge.”

  “Yes, I can see that. Can we beam him back?”

  She shook her head in frustration. “I’m trying to scan their ship, but I’m not getting any readings. They’re scrambling our sensors somehow.” Then she turned and looked back at Burgoyne. “We’re getting a transmission from them.”

  “I’m sure we are,” said Burgoyne. “Put them on audio.”

  Nyos’s voice crackled over the comm unit. “Greetings, Excalibur. As I’m sure you’ve surmised, we have your captain. Listen to us very carefully: you are to turn off your cloaking device and reveal yourself to us immediately. If you do not do so, we will kill your captain. We cannot make your situation more simple or self-evident than that. We will give you one minute to comply.” The channel closed, leaving silence on the bridge.

  All eyes were on Burgoyne. S/he had not taken hir place in the command chair. Instead s/he was still in the first officer’s spot, and s/he was stroking hir chin slowly, clearly processing the situation. “They can’t see us,” s/he said slowly. “If they could, they wouldn’t require us to drop the shield.”

  “But those things they said before . . .” said Tobias. “About being able to lock onto our engines.”

  “A bluff,” said Xy. “It has to be. Things they made up in order to make us believe that they could fire on us at any time. They were trying to trick us.”

  “Well, it worked,” admitted Tobias. “I thought they had us.”

  “What they have is the captain,” said Burgoyne. “If we drop the cloak and let them know where we are, we’re as good as surrendering the ship to them.”

  “And if we don’t,” said Kebron, “then we’re signing the captain’s death warrant.”

  “We don’t know that for sure,” said Burgoyne. “What would be the point of it?”

  “It’s a threat,” said Kebron. “The point of it is pretty much implicit in the saying of it.”

  “No, seriously,” Burgoyne said thoughtfully. “What would be the point of killing Captain Calhoun? If they do that, then he’s of no use to them anymore. The Dayan don’t strike me as a race that’s inclined to just toss aside chips that easily.”

  “You’re saying it’s a bluff?” said Kebron.

  “I’m saying that makes more sense than just killing him.”

  “And if they’re not bluffing?”

  “Then they kill him,” said Burgoyne.

  “Burgy—”

  “What would you have me do, Zak?” Burgoyne demanded. “Give up the lives of everyone on this ship in exchange for the captain? How do you think Mac would feel about that? Do you think he’d approve? Because I sure as hell don’t. If it came down to a choice of his life against you, or me, or any other single individual on this ship versus his own, we both know what he’d say. He’d say that he’d kick my ass across this bridge before seeing me surrender to an enemy. And that’s who they are.” He pointed at the immense Dayan vessel on the screen. “They are here for one reason and one reason only: to conquer. They’ve kidnapped our captain to help facilitate that. We know what they want. They’re going to want us to give them targets. Orient them to our galaxy. Tell them whom to hit first. They’ll likely want to strip-mine our computer data. Do you want to stand by while they do that? Do any of you?”

  There was a slow shaking of heads.

  “What do we do?” said Tobias.

  “We wait and watch,” said Burgoyne. “We don’t go anywhere. We don’t activate our engines. We just remain exactly where we are. Don’t open fire on them. Don’t do anything. Let’s see what they do.”

  “So it’s a waiting game?” said Tobias.

  “That’s exactly right.”

  “And what if, while we’re waiting here, we see them dump the captain’s body out one of their torpedo chutes?”

  “We mourn him and take solace in the fact that he would rather die than see any of us die.” Burgoyne checked the chronometer. “It’s been more than a minute. So we’ve either called their bluff or doomed the captain. I guess we’re going to find out which.”

  The Dayan Vessel

  NYOS CHECKED HIS chronometer and nodded grimly. “It’s been over a minute, and we’ve heard nothing from your crew.” He turned to face Calhoun. “It appears that your crew has abandoned you.”

  Calhoun was locked into a mechanism that clearly was used for alien races, because it was designed for someone much smaller than the average Dayan. There were solid manacles that were holding his arms upright, and they were strapped around his feet as well. He had initially tried pulling at them, but there was no slack whatsoever. He was solidly trapped.

  He was in a relatively small room and was easily able to discern what its purpose was. It was there for questioning captives. Which mildly surprised Calhoun, since the Dayan did not strike him as individuals who were especially big on captives. They seemed more the search-and-destroy type.

  He wanted to say, Good. You did exactly what I wanted you to do. Because I’ll be damned if my crew does anything to cooperate with you, you murdering bastards. I would rather die a hundred deaths than have my life spared so that you can go tearing across my galaxy, bringing death and destruction to billions of innocent individuals.

  But he said nothing. Instead he simply hung there and stared impassively at Nyos. He allowed no anger to play across his face, no emotion of any kind. He just stared.

  “So now I am supposed to kill you,” said Nyos when Calhoun didn’t reply. “I said I would. What would they think of me if I failed to follow through on a threat?”

  Still nothing.

  “Is this your plan, Calhoun? To simply stare at me and wait for me to dispose of you? While your ship floats nearby?”

  That was something that Calhoun could not resist asking about. “You said you could track us.”

  “And you believed me? Am I to be held accountable for your stupidity?”

  “So it was a lie?”

  “Of course it was a lie,” said Nyos. He even chuckled, which was a low and distressing sound. “That is just fundamental gamesmanship. Always convince an opponent that you have an advantage, even if you have none.” He slowly circled Calhoun. “I see that you’re speaking now.”

  “Seemed polite.”

  “And you’re all about being polite.” He laughed softly once
more. “I knew from the moment I met you that we were going to get along.”

  “Get along?” Calhoun glanced at the manacles on his wrists. “Is this how you define ‘getting along’? By chaining me up?”

  “I could have stripped you naked and beaten you to within an inch of your life. I would show some measure of gratitude for my restraint if I were you.”

  “Thanks,” said Calhoun drily.

  “Your crewmates obviously don’t think enough of you to rescue you from our clutches.”

  “No, they know me well enough to know that I would not approve of them sacrificing anything on my behalf. They know I would rather die than surrender to the demands of a terrorist.”

  “Terrorist? Us?” He touched his chest and managed to look genuinely astonished. “On what basis do you make that judgment?”

  “We have reliable authority that tells us your intention is to destroy our galaxy.”

  “Really? And who told you that? The D’myurj?”

  “Yes.”

  “And they convinced you of that?”

  “You convinced us of that,” said Calhoun. “We saw what you did to their world. To their race.”

  “Actions that you approved of.”

  “Yes,” said Calhoun. “I did. But I was wrong to. I should never have assisted you. And you should never have done it.”

  “It seems to me,” said Nyos, “that your true issue is not with us but with your own actions. I do not see how that should be our concern.”

  “It shouldn’t. But that doesn’t explain why you felt the need to kidnap me from my ship.”

  “We require leverage, obviously,” said Nyos. “It is clear that you do not trust us.”

  “And you believe that the best way to encourage us to trust you is to engage in kidnapping? I’m sorry, I’m not quite following your thought process.”

  “We thought that by kidnapping you, we could get your vessel to cooperate with us.”

  “What manner of cooperation are you seeking?”

  “Information, Captain!” said Nyos, as if it were the most absurd question in the world. “We simply want information about this place. About the various races that are residing here.”