STAR TREK

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

BY

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch Look for STAR TREK Fiction from

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star Trek

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

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THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Chapter One

THE GAS GIANT THESAU, the ninth planet

out from the star Tautee, expanded, then

contracted, as if it were cookie dough in the hands

of a huge, unseen child.

Egg-shaped.

Then round.

Then oblong.

The large planet went through wild

contortions as it fought to somehow retain its shape.

And for a moment it seemed to have won the fight,

settling into the round, swirling clouded shape it had

had for millions of years.

Then the unseen child started pulling on it again and the

gas giant expanded at its poles, then flattened

almost as fast.

Every video screen throughout the entire

system 1

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

was focused on those images. Millions of

Tauteean people watched, awestruck at the incredible

forces at work.

Half a kilometer below the surface of the

second moon of the fifth planet, the entire staff

of the Kanst Energy Center[*thorngg'thousands of

researchers and scientists[*thorngg'watched their

screens in growing dismay. Some people turned away.

Others sat on regulation chairs, no longer able

to stand. The remaining few stared at the screens as if

the sight betrayed them.

In the center of the fifty-thousand-kilometer

building, Subcommander Prescott stood in the

middle of the war room, watching the screens. Her

assistant Folle stood beside her. The rest of the

room was empty. No one else cared to see

destruction in three dimensions.

The war room was a round amphitheater, and she

stood at the focal point, in the bottom, below all

the workbenches, the computers, and the seats. The circular

screens showed her the Tautee system as if she were

on a ship in space. The system surrounded her and

covered the ceiling above her. Only the shiny steel

floor, which reflected the images in a blurry,

colorful fashion, showed that she was in the middle of

her creation.

The Kanst Energy Experiment.

She had hoped to provide unlimited power for

all her people. The studies had taken most of her

life. The research built on research that built

on research, some of it generations old. She had

hired ten thousand of the best minds in the system to 2

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

work on the project. Their analysis, the

computer charts, and the projections all showed

success.

How could it have gone this wrong?

"It's going to break up," Folle said. "Just like

Hancee did."

Hancee, the moon where the energy

experiment had taken place. Where she had lost

three hundred of the best minds in the system.

Prescott shook her head, the movement

making her head ache. Pain shot through her jaw.

She was grinding her teeth again. She had shattered a

tooth when Hancee broke up, but her pain had

seemed minor then compared with the loss of a moon and her

people. Her friends.

Her pain felt even more minor now.

The amphitheater was strangely silent. She

couldn't even hear the hum of the computers. The air was

cold[*thorngg'the center fought a constant battle

to keep the temperature steady within such a large

space[*thorngg'and she wore only her thin lab

uniform. Somewhere she had lost the extra sweater she

kept for the cold days, the days when the cold ate through

her thin skin, all the way to her bones.

That didn't matter either. She had a feeling she

would lose more than a sweater before the week was out.

The gas giant's shape changes took place

in that silence. She almost expected to hear

rips and tears as the planet changed shape. The

sounds of an earthquake, maybe, the grinding of

shifting rock under the unseen forces.

The silence was eerie.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

But the silence was better than the cries of dismay

she had heard two days ago, when this room had been

full of her staff, when all the scientists had

gathered to watch their success on Hancee.

A success that had quickly turned into a disaster of

untold proportions.

Hancee had been the largest moon orbiting the gas

giant. Two days after they started the experiment

inside Hancee, something had gone wrong. Nobody

knew exactly what had

happened. The project was generating the

expected power, and the transmission beam was being

put on line to bring the power into the population.

Suddenly the three hundred men and women on

Hancee no longer communicated with the Kanst

Cente r[*thorngg'or with anywhere else in the

Tautee system. They were just gone, along with the power

beam and the laboratories there.

Orbital photos showed nothing. The

base was obscured by clouds of debris or gas.

At least, her scientists thought it was debris or

gas. It could have been anything, or something new

created by the experiment. She had no way of knowing for

sure.

She still didn't.

Two frantic days later, the rescue mission

based out of the seventh planet finally received clearance

to head for Hancee. It would have taken almost a week

to get there, but the ships were still on the launchpad when the

entire moon broke apart, scattering itself in small

pieces in an expanding ring around the gas giant.

Now, less than a week later, the gas giant

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

shattering, torn apart by forces she couldn't even

imagine.

Prescott glanced over at Folle's strained

and tired face. Somewhere in the last two days, he

had stopped touching her, even casually, a squeeze

of the shoulder, a brush on the wrist, all those soft

unconscious signs of support. The others

refused to meet her eyes, but the loss of

Folle's trust hurt even more. He was her right

hand, her best friend, her second-in-command,

and her sometime lover.

And he blamed her for all of this.

Underneath it all, so did she.

Not only was she legally

responsible[*thorngg'she set up the center, the

team, and the research, and convinced the government the

project would work[*thorn] but she was morally

responsible. She had believed in the project with

all her might.

But no one could blame her for silencing the

doomsayers. There had been none. Everyone thought the

project would work.

Even Folle.

Prescott, her thin, tiny frame showing the wear

of the last week, sank down into a chair and closed

her eyes.

She had to think.

She so much wanted to believe that something else besides

the project had caused this

destruction, that some cosmic coincidence had led

to this.

She might be able to make herself believe that the

small forces they had been working with could destroy a

moon. That remote

possibility was the very reason the experiment

had been placed so far out, away from the populated

center of the system. 5

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

But the energy project couldn't have come close

to generating even one-millionth of the force needed to tear

apart a gas giant almost as big as their sun.

She hadn't caused this. She repeated the sen-

tence over and over again. She hadn't caused this.

She hadn't caused this. It just wasn't possible.

But something was tearing apart the biggest planet in their

solar system. And the destruction of the moon was damning

evidence that her project had triggered something.

What, she had no idea.

"You'd better watch this," Folle said.

She opened her eyes.

Folle was looking forward, at Thesau. The

orange-and-yellow clouded planet filled the

front screen. It seemed to have a large bubble forming

on one side. As she watched, the

bubble moved away from the center of the

planet, pulling more and more of Thesau with it.

She stood. "This just can't be happening," she said

to herself.

Folle placed his hand over hers.

She glanced at him in surprise. His anger

seemed to be gone, replaced by resignation. He

knew, as well as she did, what the bubble meant.

Strangely, it was his touch, his acceptance of the

crisis, that nearly cracked her resolve. It was

easier for her to watch when he blamed her. She could

close it off, observe as a scientist instead of as

a person.

Then he slipped his arm around her,

strengthening her. She put her arm around him, hoping

to give him strength in return. They would need it.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Because this was just the beginning. She knew that now. For the

next hour they watched as the largest planet in their

solar system spread out like jam on bread, forming the

beginning of a huge ring that would someday, years and years

in the future, fill the entire orbit around the

sun. The birth of the first Ring of Tautee. There were

fourteen more planets. There

would be fourteen more rings.

Chapter Two

Captain's log, Stardate 3871.6

The Enterprise has been ordered to the

Tautee system to investigate waves of

subspace interference coming from the

area. Long-range scans have shown that

some, if not all, of the planets of the

Tautee system have broken apart. Admiral

Hoffman believes that the Klingons might

be involved in the system's destruction,

although she doesn't rule out other

causes. The Tautee system fails under the

area covered by the Organian Peace

Treaty, and the Klingons are looking for

almost any reason to move into the

disputed area. We have also heard

rumors of the Klingons developing a new

superweapon. My personal hope is that

these rumors are false.

We have one other concern. A team

surveyed the 8

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Tautee system ten years ago, and found a

spacetraveling pre-warp culture

insufficiently developed to have contact with the

Federation. We are to arrive as quickly as we can, not

just to stop any problems with the Klingons but also to see

if the Tautee peoples were able to save themselves.

Admiral

Hoffman reminded me that the Prime

Directive is in effect in all matters

regarding the Tauteean people.

The U.s.s. Farragut, captained by Kelly

Bogle, has been ordered to the Tautee system

to give us backup if needed. Since I served with

Kelly Bogle on the Farragut, this should prove

to be an interesting reunion.

Captain Kirk tapped his captain's log off

and surveyed the bridge. Sometimes, in the middle of

long deep-space missions, the bridge seemed

small and crowded. The padding in his captain's

chair, usually comfortable, had grown thin. At

Starbase 11, they would have fixed that, as well as

done minor[*thorngg'albeit

unnec[*thorngg'tune-ups to justify the

Enterprise's stay.

But Admiral Hoffman had canceled their

routine maintenance. She knew that Scotty kept

the ship in tip-top condition, and she also knew that the

Enterprise hadn't been out as long as usual.

Only the last mission had been hard, on Kirk as

well as the crew, but had left the ship in good

physical condition. He had looked forward to a stay

on a starbase where he could eat food from

someone else's kitchen, and have the days to read the

antique real-paper copy of One Hundred

Years of 9

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

Solitude that he had been saving for a special

occasion.

Now it was beginning to look like he wouldn't even get

one day of solitude. He had a hunch this mission

would take as long as the last. Maybe even longer.

His mood seemed to be catching. The rest of the

crew appeared to be just as disgruntled. Uhura

leaned against the orange console, one booted leg

extended, her elbow resting near the controls. Her

long slender hand held her

earpiece in place as she monitored the

subspace communications, just as Kirk had

requested.

Ensign Chekov looked as if he hadn't

slept at all in the last week. His hair was

tousled, and deep shadows had formed under his dark

eyes. His fingers, tapping on the edge of the helm

controls, provided the only real noise in the

room.

Sulu was monitoring the navigation

controls with a bit more interest than was necessary. Just before the

orders came in for this mission, he had asked for time

off to practice his swordplay. He had been

planning to participate in a

tournament scheduled on Starbase ll during their

stay. He hadn't shown obvious

disappointment about the change in plans, but he did

ask that his time off be canceled.

Only Spock seemed unaffected. He sat

at his post in front of the science console, the blue

light of the computer screen making his

greenish-tinted skin an odd sort of gray.

Kirk couldn't stand the silence. He stood and

walked to the science console, placing a hand on 10

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

the back of Spock's chair. "Do we have any more

information?"

"Very little, Captain," Spock said. He pushed

a button and then swiveled his chair so that he faced

Kirk. "Our long-range scans show that every

planet in the system has been destroyed."

"Every planet?" Kirk asked. He couldn't

make himself believe that much destruction had oc-

curred in one system without the sun going nova.

"Fifteen major planets," Spock

said, folding his hands together. "We will not know how many

minor ones were destroyed until we are closer."

"How? How could fifteen planets disappear so

quickly?" Kirk asked.

"They did not "disappear,"" Spock said.

"Sen- sors show large debris fields in the areas

of each planet, slowly expanding to form rings.

Intense waves of subspace interference are surging

out of the system. The closer we get, the more intense the

disturbance."

"Could this interference destroy planets, Mister

Spock?"

"I do not know if the interference is the result of the

destruction or the cause," Spock said. "tilde

When we arrive at the system I may be able to get

more accurate readings."

"Spock?" he said softly, not really sure he

wanted to know the answer to this question. "How many

humanoids inhabited this system?"

"From the last survey results," Spock said,

"I would estimate there to have been two billion,

six hundred million spread out over the four

inhabitable planets of the system."

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine

Kathryn

Rusch

"Two billion?" Probably all dead.

Kirk

couldn't let himself think about all those lives. He

couldn't.

He moved over beside his command chair

and stood facing the front screen, which showed the stars

streaking past. Two hours until the Enterprise

arrived. Two hours of waiting and wondering what had

become of the billions of humanoids who lived in

the Tautee system.

If all fifteen planets were destroyed, he

knew what had happened to those people.

He dropped into the captain's chair and winced at

the thinness of the padding against his back.

This would be a long two hours.

Dr. Leonard McCoy strode down the

corridor toward cargo bay five. He was hardly

ever on this deck, and the on-duty personnel were

watching him as if they had never seen a

medical officer before. They skittered out of his

way, avoiding eye contact, and hurried to their

posts. Ensigns, most of them, newly assigned,

probably, with drudge duty that he

didn't even want to think about doing.

They probably had been looking forward to the

maintenance stop as much as he had.

No stopover on Starbase 11. He hated the

thought of that. He had some experiments

growing in his lab that needed the considered opinion of

Dr. Beth Jones, one of the most brilliant

scientific minds he had ever come across. Dr.

Jones was on Starbase 1 1.

And McCoy wasn't.

Nor was he likely to be for some time. Even when

this new mission, whatever the hell it was, 12

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

was over, the ship would probably dry-dock at

some other starbase.

Dr. Jones had expressed interest in his

research, and she had also mentioned an

interesting test that could be done with a medical

tricorder. A modified medical tricorder. But

McCoy was a doctor, not an engineer, and he

didn't even know how to take the damn

things apart, let alone how to operate on them

to change their function and readings.

So he contacted a real engineer, only to discover

from the computer that Chief Engineer

Montgomery Scott was in a cargo

bay[*thorngg'and had been in the cargo bay since

some time that night. He had left orders that he was not

to be interrupted unless there was an emergency.

McCoy hesitated only a second before

entering the cargo bay. Scotty obviously

wasn't working on anything ship-related. If he

had been, the order not to interrupt would have come from the

captain. Which made, in

McCoy's mind, the emergency qualification

invalid. Especially to him.

The cargo-bay door slid open with a

pneumatic hiss.

"I said I didna want to be disturbed."

Scotty's voice sounded oddly dampened, as if it

should echo but didn't.

For a moment, McCoy was too stunned to

reply. In front of him were two of the biggest,

ugliest machines he had ever seen. And

between them was a large monitor, on which blue sky

stretched for what seemed like miles over carefully

trimmed green grass.

"What in Hanna's world . . . ?" McCoy

said, 13

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine

Kathryn

Rusch

stopping just inside the door as it hissed closed.

The two machines seemed to take up a large

percentage of the cargo bay. Mister Scott was on

his hands and knees, his head halfway inside one of the

machines, making some sort of

adjustments. McCoy could hear him talking to the

machine.

After a moment the chief engineer pulled his head out,

put his hands on his hips, and glared at McCoy.

"Well, Doctor, now that you've seen it, do you like

it?"

McCoy didn't really know what to make of it.

He had no idea what it was. Or what it was for.

"I take that as a yes," Scotty said.

All McCoy could do was nod and stare into the big

screen at the blue sky and green grass. He

really needed a vacation. He knew that now. And from the

looks of it, so did Scotty.

Scotty stood and brushed off his pants, then

moved over beside McCoy. He stopped, hands on

hips, smiling at the scene on the monitor as if

it was a newborn babe.

"What is it?" McCoy finally managed

to say.

"Why, it's a golf course," Scott said. His

voice sounded almost sad that McCoy hadn't

recognized what he was working on. "What else

would it be?"

"A golf course?" McCoy asked. "What's

the point?"

"Escape, lad," Scotty said. "Here, try

this on."

He handed McCoy the large helmet with the wires

hooked to the large machines.

"I don't think[*thorn]"

"Do it," Scotty said. "It won't hurt you."

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Doubting his own sanity, McCoy stared at the

rubber padded helmet for a moment, then

slipped it over his head. The glasses came

down over his face and suddenly, instead of staring at the

green grass and blue sky through a monitor, he

almost felt as if he were there. And for a moment he thought

he could hear the wind

blowing over the open fields.

Almost reluctantly, he pulled off the helmet

and handed it to Scotty. "What is it?"

"Holographic projectors working in tandem,"

Scotty said, beaming, and pointing at the two

machines. "I think I have them finally tuned. Now,

if they'd just stay that way."

McCoy snorted in disgust. "Holograms. The

future, they call it."

"That they are, lad. Maybe someday you won't

need the helmet."

"Humph," McCoy said in response. "They

keep saying holograms will be doing everything we

do. As if they could replace me with one."

Scotty laughed and patted the doctor on the

shoulder. "Doctor, no one could replace the

likes of you."

The illusion of grass on the large monitor

started to shimmer slightly and Scotty quickly ducked

to the machine on the right, muttering to himself as he went.

After a moment, the picture stopped

shimmering. Scotty slid out of the machine,

grinning, a long dark streak running from his right eye

to his chin. "Now, what's so important it couldn't

wait until I finished the eighteenth green?"

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

"Eighteen? You did eighteen scenes like that?"

McCoy pointed at the monitor.

"Aye," Scotty said. "Including the

fairways and teeing areas. A golf course needs

eighteen holes, ya know."

McCoy shook his head, then glanced down at the

tricorder in his hand. Suddenly his lack of engineering

skills seemed painfully obvious. Scotty could

create something out of nothing. McCoy needed help

modifying his tricorder.

"Mister Scott, since we're not going to Star

Base Eleven, I[*thorn]"

He didn't get the rest of his sentence out of his

mouth. Suddenly the light in the room dimmed and then

came back up. The grass and blue sky both

suddenly looked as if they were a lake surface being

blown by a stiff wind; then the picture went out.

McCoy could smell the distinct odor of overheating

equipment.

Scotty dove for the machine on the right but was too

late. Something exploded and sparks flew everywhere.

"Mister Scott," the captain's voice came

over the intercom. "We have a power drain."

"Aye," The word held a mixture of sadness,

regret, and loss. Scott took a step

back from the smoking machines. He shook his head.

"Mister Scott?" The captain's voice did

not sound happy and McCoy smiled.

"Give me five minutes," Scott said, "and

I'll fix your power drain."

"Then I'd like a report," the captain said.

"Kirk out."

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

The smoke was thick and smelled of electrical

cables. McCoy suppressed both a cough and his

smile. He held out the tricorder.

"Is it broken?" Scott asked.

McCoy shook his head. "I need some

modifications."

"Ach, so do these poor beasties. I'll clean

up this mess and then come to sickbay."

McCoy slung the tricorder over his shoulder.

"Thanks." He opened the bay door, thankful for the

fresh air of the corridor. He coughed once, then

stopped outside the door. "One more

thing, Mister Scott."

"Aye, sir?"

"Why are you building a golf course?"

Scatty rose to his full height, as

he often did when his pride was assaulted. "I am

a Scotsman, lad. We invented the game."

McCoy nodded.

And then waited until he was in the turbolift

before he started laughing.

Chapter Three

PRESCOTT SAT in her chair in the dimly

lit amphitheater. The screens had been dead for

hours now. The environmental controls were running on

emergency power, and the gravity had gone from normal

to low.

The chair was bolted into the floor for just this sort of

emergency, and she wore the

restraining bands on her ankles and thighs, roping

her in place. The idea had been to bolt everything

down in case the gravity controls failed. That way

the researchers could continue their work even under the

lowgrav conditions of the moon. She doubted that the

designers ever thought the bands would come in handy in the

almost zero gravity of the remaining hunk of the moon.

The center's planners had thought that the gravi18

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

ty controls would break down monthly. Instead, this

was the first time anyone had had to use the

system. Yet another miscalculation in a whole,

disastrous series of them.

The room shook slightly, stirring the dust. Every

few minutes the base rattled. It was already

unstable. With each shake, she assumed the containment

would break, and the cold darkness of space would rush in

and take them all to a very quick but very painful death.

She licked her lips. They were dry and caked with

grit. Dust, dirt, and debris floated around

her, unhampered by bolts.

A computer had broken through one of the screens and was

at the moment floating near the ceiling, sent there by that

last moonquake. In a few minutes it would

settle slowly back to the floor somewhere.

She had thought she was going to die in this room, but so

far it hadn't worked out that way. Somehow, by some

miracle, the base had held together when the moon

broke apart.

All the ripping and tearing and screaming and shaking she

had expected to hear, but couldn't, as she watched the

fifteen planets in the Tautee system silently

blow apart had happened when the moon shattered. But,

apparently, a large chunk of the moon had held

together.

Within that large chunk resided the center.

Lucky her. Lucky all of them. They had a

few extra days to think about dying.

Folle was pleased; he somehow thought they 19

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

might survive. He was scavenging, seeing how

bad the damage was in the rest of the center.

And who else was alive.

She estimated that a few hundred had lived. The

computer terminal in front of her had shown her a

schematic of the center just before a power surge shut the

machine down. Several sections appeared to have

collapsed. But several had survived.

A few hundred tired, injured, homeless

Tau- teeans to carry on until their air ran out,

or their containment cracked and let in the cold of

deep space.

For days after her home planet broke apart,

killing over a billion, she didn't much care if

she lived or died. All she kept seeing was the

blue-green meadow surrounding her parents" home,

the stream with the silver fish, and her old pet

Sandpine. They were now all gone, destroyed by something

she had headed.

Destroyed by her "project."

""I don't know that for sure," she said aloud.

Folle had said that to her fifty times as he tried

to help her regain some strength. We don't know for

sure, he had said. We can't know.

He had meant that they couldn't know

because the equipment couldn't tell them. But she knew

the real truth behind Folle's

statement.

They couldn't know because not knowing kept them sane.

If she knew for certain that the Kanst Energy

Experiment was responsible for the breakup of the

Tautee system, she'd never be able to take another

breath. She and her fellow workers would be the 20

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

greatest mass murderers of all time. She would have

killed all her people.

Her mind couldn't embrace that idea.

Refused it outright.

Even though she knew that everyone was

dead, she could still see her parents" faces when

she closed her eyes. It seemed no different from

living the rest of her days in this destroyed facility,

far from home.

Except that her heart ached. Literally ached, as

if someone had stabbed her there.

She took a deep breath and glanced around at the

empty room and the debris just now settling back

toward the floor in the weak gravity.

Folle had been gone a long time. He had

tried to take her out of this room, this place where she

watched her entire race die, but she had refused

to leave. For the past two days, he had brought her

food and news of the two

hundred people in the nearby command center.

He had told her of the blocked corridors and

twisting steel beams. He had said that the others had

hope of survival. And he had asked why she

hadn't.

He knew the answer. He was as good a

scientist as she was. The bit of moon that held

them together wouldn't remain in one piece forever. If it

didn't shake itself apart, it would hit other space

debris and shatter.

There were a thousand other possibilities. Every

scenario she ran ended with their deaths.

The main door clanged. She took a deep

breath 21

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

of the dusty air, trying to brace herself for

Folle's energy. He was trying to keep her

alive. He was trying to keep all of them alive,

for what she didn't know.

They had no right to live.

Even if they hadn't caused the destruction.

Everyone else was dead. They had no right

to survive.

She turned to watch him. He was still a beautiful

man, thinner than he had ever been, but beautiful.

He jumped offthe top step, and half-floated

toward her.

He grabbed her shoulder to stop his

momentum, then held the chair as he braced himself

against the desk beside her.

"I have a crew patching leaks in the A

Section," he said.

She shrugged. "Busy work. We both know it

won't last long."

"Long enough to be rescued," he said.

He had never said that word before. She bit back a

sarcastic comment[*thorngg'How could anyone save

you? We killed everyone in the

universe[*thorngg'and instead asked, as

reasonably as she could, "Do you really believe that

some of the big ships from Tautee orbital

labs survived?"

He nodded, glancing around at the empty, blank

screens and the destroyed control panels. "We just

need to let them know we're still down here."

Maybe if she talked to him, she could get him

to abandon this new delusion. She stared at the hole in

the screen before her, the one made by the floating

computer. But what was the point of 22

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

destroying his illusions now? So that he could die as

miserably as she would?

"Prescott?" he asked softly.

She turned her gaze to him, smiled at him, and

ran her knuckles along the soft skin of his face.

One of them deserved to hope. If he kept busy,

then maybe he wouldn't be frightened when the end came.

"Are any of the shafts to the surface still open?"

she asked.

"No," he said, as if it didn't bother him.

"They're all blocked. But we might be able

to clear one. Twenty-zee-one seems to be blocked

in only four places."

She shook her head sadly and turned to the blank

screens. The moon base had never been designed

to withstand the moon breaking up. Who could have

foreseen such an event? It was a marvel that they were

even still alive.

She punched a few dead buttons that before would have

let her see the incoming ships. Sometimes it

frustrated her more that

everything was broken, that nothing worked. It seemed like

such a metaphor for the

experiment itself.

"You know, Folle," she said, "I just wish I

could get one more glimpse of the stars."

"You want me to send a crew here to try to get a

camera up and running?"

She shook her head. It would just be more busy work.

She knew that seeing the surface wasn't going to be

possible. The moon's

breakup must have destroyed all the cameras on the

surface. And severed the connections

between here and there. 23

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

No, the only chance she had of getting out of this

grave was to put on a surface suit and somehow

dig her way through a kilometer of collapsed

tunnels to what remained of the surface. And at the

moment she just didn't have that much energy.

"You don't think we'll be able to repair that

tunnel, do you?" he asked.

"I think this section of moon is staying together with

spit, string, and a massive amount of luck," she

said. "And I'm afraid that if we mess with it,

we'll make matters worse."

He frowned, caught a chunk of floating steel,

and shoved it in his pocket. His pockets were bulging.

He must have been doing that

everywhere he went. She wondered what he did with the

steel when his pockets were full.

"Can we at least try rigging up an emergency

signal?" he asked.

She swung her chair around and looked him in the

eye, being careful in the light gravity not to move

too fast. He needed her permission. He was acting

as if they still had a mission, as if she were still in charge

of something

important.

She signed. "Go ahead if it'll make you

happy. Gather up a crew and I'll come to the

communications room to check on the

progress."

Folle grinned, the dirt on his face showing

lines she had never seen before. "Thanks.

Give us an hour," he said. He turned and

jumped carefully toward the entrance.

"Take your time," she said.

She turned back to face the blank screens.

Sending an emergency signal was as useful as

pressing 24

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

the buttons on the control panel before her. She

let her fingers dance over the dead

buttons. Try as she might, she couldn't make

the surface cameras work.

And no matter how strong the signal, Folle

would be shouting into emptiness. Except for a few

hundred people trapped in the remains of a moon, the

universe was dead.

No one would rescue them, because no one was out there.

Chapter Four

AS PER SPOCK S RECOMMENDATION,

the Enterprise came out of warp farther away from the

Tautee system than normal. Spock's point,

which was extremely valid, was that if all fifteen

planets had been destroyed, then there might be a

great deal of debris, and the

Enterprise didn't want to come out of

warp in the center of it.

They had missed the main debris fields, but not

by very much.

Kirk leaned forward in his chair, one booted

foot pressed against the chair itself, the other braced

beneath him. He had seen schematics of the Tautee

system. It had looked like a

thousand other systems[*thorngg'a yellow sun and

fifteen major planets, three of which were gas

giants.

The only remarkable thing was that four of the

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

inner planets were in the band of life and had

atmospheres capable of sustaining life. Two of the

planets were class-M planets, very similar

to Earth. Usually a solar system had one or two

such planets at the most, but this system was blessed with

four.

The last report from ten years ago was that the

Tautee system supported a humanoid

population that had started on the fifth planet and

spread through the system. The report stated that they were

at least fifty to one hundred years from discovering

warp drive and leaving their system.

In other words, there had been nothing

remarkable about the Tauteeans. They were evolving just

as hundreds of other young

cultures were doing throughout the sector, slowly

making their way up and out into the stars.

Until now.

"All stop," he said

Slowly he pushed himself out of his chair, his gaze

never leaving the screen. This wasn't possible.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sulu and

Chekov staring as he did, mouths open.

He had only seen something like this once be- fore.

When the Planet Killer had swept through the

galaxy, chomping planets. And even then, it

hadn't left this kind of debris.

All fifteen major planets orbiting the

Tautee sun had broken apart, leaving nothing more

than chunks of floating rock and debris in ever-

expanding rings. The screen couldn't begin to encompass

al l the damage.

The outer rings from the destruction of the larger, gas

giants were already awe-inspiring, and 27

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

horribly, horribly beautiful. If

he had come upon this without knowing about the way the system

had been, he would have stopped the ship and studied

everything, just because the sight was so incredible.

But he did know what had been here before. An

entire civilisation had been here, spread across four

of those planets. Billions of lives that were now

vapor in the growing rings.

What had happened here?

What had gone wrong?

"Mister Spock," he said, his voice not at

all steady. He turned toward his science officer,

hoping that Spock's inscrutable Vulcan features

showed a hint of what he was thinking. "Are there any

survivors?"

But Spock had his head down, eyes pressed

against the scanning device. Kirk understood. It was

Spock's way of covering his own shock at the

devastation.

"Mister Spock?"

"I am sorry, sir. I was double-checking my

readings." Spock swiveled his chair and faced the

captain. Although somber, Spock's

expression was no different than it had been before

they left warp. Maybe he wasn't covering

anything at all.

"It would seem unlikely that there would be any

survivors," Spock said. "Although the society

had space travel, it was pre-warp. Ships that

primitive could not survive this type of

devastation."

"Billions of people, Spock. Could anyone have

survived?"

Spock shook his head. "If they did not know this

was coming, they would not have survived. The 28

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Tauteeans lived mainly on the two

class-M planets. When the planets broke

apart, their atmospheres were scattered into space. People

on the surface would no longer have air to breathe or

sufficient gravity to hold them against that surface."

Kirk's fists clenched. Billions of lives

lost.

Billions.

He had seen destruction before and knew that the

numbers didn't tell half the story. Each of

those lives had had loves and hates, goals and

dreams, successes and failures. All rendered

meaningless in the space of a few days.

What awful days they must have been.

There was a loud groaning sound, as if a

billion ghosts had moaned at the same moment; then

suddenly the Enterprise was rocked as if something

huge had collided with it.

Kirk went sprawling to the right. He quickly

tucked his shoulder and rolled with the fall.

Ensign York rolled past him and slammed into the

wall.

Kirk rolled once more and then caught

himself quickly. He came up on one knee,

holding on to the engineering console. "What's

happening?"

"I am uncertain, Captain," Spock shouted

over the rumbling and moaning as he held on to his

science console with one hand while punching in commands with the

other.

Sulu had been knocked from his chair, but had

quickly regained it. His fingers were flying over the board

in front of him, trying to stabilise the ship.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

Chekov had managed to stay in place and was

studying his instruments while holding on.

The shaking and all the noise subsided and Kirk

stood slowly, straightening his shirt and

brushing off the dust on his arm. Ensign York

shook himself and stood carefully. Uhura

picked up her chair, tugged on her skirt, and

sat down, replacing the receiver in her ear as she bent

over her console.

"It seems," Mr. Spock said slowly, "that the

Enterprise was hit by an intense subspace distur-

bance."

"The same kind as the ones we picked up be-

fore?" Kirk kept a hand on his chair as he made

his way to the science console. Two-dimensional

oscillations showed up on the science computer screen.

They obviously meant something to Spock, but Kirk

had not seen them before.

"The very same, sir," Spock said, "Only this

is a thousand times more intense.

"Where's it coming from?" Kirk understood the

oscillations on the screen now. They were a

representation of the disturbance, moving like ocean waves

in space in ever-expanding rings from the Tautee

system.

Spock never took his eyes off the instruments in

front of him. "I have yet to discover the origin of the

disturbance." His voice had a troubled sound to it.

"Well, find it," Kirk said. He

stepped back toward his chair, and tapped the comm

button for engineering. "Mister Scott. Any

damage?"

"Nothing to speak of, sir." Scotty's voice

came back strong.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"Keep me posted. Kirk out." He looked up

at the screen, at the damage floating in

ever-widening rings where planets used to be.

Whatever happened here was still happening. There was no

doubt at all about that.

"Sir, I am picking up a very faint radio

distress signal," Uhura said.

Radio? Ancient technology. "Pinpoint it,

Lieu- tenant," Kirk said. He leaned against the

arm of his chair. A distress signal. To what

point? The survey team had said this was a pre-warp

culture. Who was the distress signal meant for?

"Mister Spock, I thought you said there was no chance

of survivors."

"On the contrary, Captain," Spock said, "I

be- lieve I said that it was unlikely there would be

many survivors."

"Do you care to explain the distinction?"

"The term "unlikely" means that there is a

chance someone did survive. However, an entire

series of circumstances would have had to occur. The

chances of those circumstances happening at this

opportune time would be[*thorn]"

"Unlikely, yes, I know, Mister Spock."

Kirk shook his head and turned back to Uhura.

"Can you pinpoint the signal?"

"The distress signal is coming from a large

asteroid in the debris of the fifth planet,"

Uhura said.

"Mister Spock, are you finding any signs of

survivors in that area?"

"I find it impossible to determine at this dis-

tance, Captain. But the asteroid is large enough to

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

sustain a significant number of people. I am quite

certain we have survivors there."

"Quite certain, Mister Spock?" Kirk didn't

want to hope without any reason. "And what is this

certainty based on?"

"The fact that the distress signal just started."

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him.

Kirk got the uncanny feeling that Spock was

making An of him.

Kirk rounded his chair and was about to order Sulu

to take the Enterprise to that asteroid when Spock

added, "However, I do not believe we should approach

the asteroid. The subspace disturbances that appear

to have broken these planets apart may possibly be more

intense in that region. With that much planetary

debris, the ship would not survive."

Kirk glanced at Spock, who was again

monitoring the oscillations on his screen. "What

do you suggest, Mister Spock?"

"Holding on," Spock said. "We are about to be

hit by another subspace wave."

Almost before Kirk could grab his captain's chair,

the ship rocked and shuddered. As the lights Dickered,

he glanced around. This time, with Spock's warning, the

bridge crew were staying at their stations.

As the wave passed and the lights came back up,

McCoy's voice came over the intercom. "You

want to tell me what in blazes is going on? I

have patients bouncing all over down here."

Kirk punched the comm button. "We'll tell

you just as soon as we know. For now, just hang on.

Kirk out."

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Mr. Chekov turned around. "Captain, we

have company."

"On screen, Mister."

Kirk let go of the command chair and turned to face

the main screen as the view of the destroyed planets

disappeared and was replaced by four Klingon cruisers.

They floated there as if they owned the space.

"Red alert," he ordered.

As if they didn't have enough problems already.

Chapter Five

CAPTAIN KELLY BOGLE stood in front

of

the main viewscreen on the U.s.s.

Farragut. He had come out of warp at the edge of the

Tautee system to find himself with two separate

problems. The strange destruction of fifteen

planets, and his sister ship, the U.s.s.

Enterprise, surrounded by four Klingon

cruisers.

Bogle knew that Kirk could handle the four

Klingon ships[*thorngg'he'd seen Kirk handle

bigger problems[*thorngg'b Bogle

didn't like the

implications. Four ships to one Federation

vessel, a destroyed star system all around them.

That special Klingon weapon he'd heard

about must have been a doozy.

He turned. His bridge crew was at their

profes34

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

signal best, which meant they had been startled by the

sudden turn of events just as he was.

His helmsman, Diego Rodriguez, watched

their course as if they were flying through an asteroid

belt.

The communications officer, Julie Gustavus,

kept one hand to her ear as she monitored the intership

communications.

Several ensigns read nearby computer screens with

great focus, as if their entire careers depended on

it.

While Kelly Bogle could match Jim Kirk

drink for drink in any officer's lounge in the

galaxy, while he could play poker with equal

skill, and while he could tell tall tales as

well as any officer in the fleet, he did one thing

differently he dominated his ship. Bogle

didn't believe in the camaraderie that Kirk used

to bind his people. Bogle did it with sheer

determination, a quest for perfection, and rigid

discipline.

And it had worked for years.

He would need all of that discipline right now.

Bogle sat back and studied the situation for a

moment. His main focus had to be the

Enterprise. The systemwide disaster had

developed over the course of days and possibly

weeks. The Enterprise had only been in the

sector a few minutes before the Farragut.

That meant that the Klingons had been there first. They

would have to deal with the Klingons first in return.

"Any sign of hostilities?" Bogle asked.

Dean Wesley Smith and K ristine Kathryn

Rusch

Commander Richard Lee glanced up from his science

console. A shock of red hair fell over his

forehead. Lee's haircut was always too long, and his

uniform always needed just a little extra attention, all

items he'd been cited for many times before. But

Bogle didn't dare discipline him too hard.

Lee was the best science officer that Bogle

had ever worked with. The last thing he wanted to do was

chase him away.

"No hostilities yet, sir,", Lee said.

"However, the Enterprise is at full alert."

Lee glanced back down at his scope, then continued

without looking back up. "So are the Klingons.

I'd say something is going to happen any minute

now."

Bogle nodded and turned to Rodriguez.

"Move us into position right behind the

Enterprise. Let's let the Klingons know

we're here."

"Aye, sir," he said.

The rest of the crew continued their monitoring.

Bogle sat in the captain's chair, extending his

long legs outward. Within a few moments, the

Enterprise filled the screen with the four Klingon

vessels beyond and above it.

"Nice work, Ensign," Bogle said.

"We're being hailed by the Enterprise, was

Gustavus said.

"On screen," Bogle said, leaning back.

Captain Kirk's face filled the screen.

He looked pale, and his hair was ruffled, as if

he'd been running his hands through it. Not at

all the smiling, relaxed Jim Kirk that Bogle

was used to.

Was it the Klingons?

Or the system destruction itself? Bogle really

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

hadn't had time to absorb the system's

destruction or its meaning yet. He suspected

he would have to do that in private.

Then Kirk grinned, and Bogle saw the friend he

had spent many a satisfying shore leave with.

'Kelly, nice to have you with us."

"Good to be here, Jim," Bogle said. He'd

worked with Jim Kirk a number of times in the past and

it had always been successful despite their different

command methods. Kirk seemed to have an ability to come

out on top. As far as Bogle was concerned, that was a

great trait for a teammate to have.

Someone spoke behind Kirk and his grin

faded. "Tell your crew to hang on to

something." His voice was serious and very cold.

"Now."

Bogle didn't hesitate or even ask why.

He grabbed the arms of his own captain's chair, and

then punched his intercom. "This is the

captain. Find yourself something solid and hang on

to it. We[*thorn]"

The ship moaned and then jolted backward.

Bogle's finger flew off the button,

effectively ending the communications.

The ship rattled and moaned like a sick teenager,

first to one side and then the other. His officers twisted

and leaned, but didn't lose their places.

He had only felt something like this once

bef[*thorngg'in a battle with the Bnez when he was

an ensign. The Bnez had rammed his ship.

Sparks flew from Commander Lee's panel, but he

just fanned the smoke away and

continued working.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

Another hard jolt sent an ensign sprawling.

"Intense subspacewave, sir," Lee shouted

over the rumbling and moaning. "It should be passing right

about . . . now."

As Lee spoke, the shaking diminished and stopped.

Silence descended over the bridge like a heavy

blanket.

Bogle tapped his comm button and hailed

his chief engineer, ProjeffEllis. Ellis could

lead a team of engineers through a desert and come out the

other side with a pool full of water and a blonde

swimming in it. "Pro, what's the damage?"

"None, sir." The chief's voice came back

strong. "Just a few bruises and some wounded

pride."

"Thanks," Bogle said. He turned

to Gustavus. She still clutched her console, her

knuckles white with the strain. "Hail the

Enterprise for me."

"There's no need, sir," she said. "They're still

on-screen."

Kirk's hair looked even more tousled, and his

cheeks were red, as if he'd been exerting himself.

Bogle suspected he didn't look much better.

"That was some welcome," Bogle said.

"Thanks," Kirk said, smiling. "Expect it

every five-point-four minutes. This is a charming

section of space."

"I'm gathering that," Bogle said. He glanced

at Lee, who nodded. Apparently his science offi-

cer's assessment of the sector was the same as

Kirk's.

Behind Kirk, Bogle heard a woman

say, "Cap- tain, we are being hailed by the

Klingons."

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Kirk nodded to Bogle. "I'll patch this

through to you. It should be interesting."

Bogle laughed. "Thanks." The screen went

blank.

Everything with Kirk was always interesting. Never by the

book, but always interesting.

Chapter Six

PUT THE KLINGONS on screen, Kirk said

after Captain Bogle's face disappeared. "And

patch this through to the Farragut."

"Aye, sir," Uhura said.

Kirk rose so that he would face the Klingons

head-on. He spread his feet slightly, his hands

on his hips. He would let Bogle, an old friend,

see the shock Kirk felt at the destruction of the

entire section, but he would let the Klingons only

see his anger.

His very deep anger.

But he did have to handle this well. There were possible

survivors to think of.

The rescue would be delicate at best.

Impossible at worst.

After a moment, Klingon Supreme Commander 40

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

KerDaq appeared on the screen. He wore the

standard Klingon military uniform, with two

insignias near his right shoulder Kirk had never seen

before. The lines and ridges in KerDaq's face were

more pronounced than those of most Klingons Kirk had

met. He and KerDaq had

crossed each other's path only once before, without

problems, at a Federation/klingon conference. For a

Klingon, KerDaq was

reasonable. If he belonged to any other

species, he would be considered truculent.

Unfortunately, KerDaq was as good as

Klingons got.

"Captain Kirk," KerDaq said, his speech

slow and slightly accented. It was also tinged with

sarcasm. "I should have known you'd be

involved with this."

"A pleasure, as always, Commander," Kirk said,

not letting himself be baited. He knew Klingons.

They always came on strong and

didn't respect weakness of any kind.

"Save your pleasantries," KerDaq said.

"I do not discuss small things with people who would destroy

an entire star system."

For a moment Kirk didn't totally register what

KerDaq had just said. Then it sunk in. KerDaq

was blaming the Federation for this destruction. Kirk

couldn't let that stand.

"If you believe that the Federation had some- thing to do

with the destruction of this system," Kirk said, "you are

wrong. Check your own re- cords. We just

arrived."

"A ploy," KerDaq said.

"Is it?" Kirk asked. "Or is this all a

ploy on your 41

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

part to cover your use of that secret weapon we've

heard so much about?"

KerDaq looked stunned for a moment; then his face

colored. Before he could say anything, Mr. Spock

said, "Another wave, Captain. Five

seconds."

"I would suggest," Kirk said to KerDaq, "that you

hang on to something solid."

The subspace wave struck the

Enterprise as Kirk sat down in his command chair and

held on. The thin padding bounced against his

already bruised back. He'd been on an old

roller coaster back near San Francisco on

Earth. This felt a lot like it, only with grinding and

tearing sounds. For just a moment the lights dimmed, then

they came back up strong.

"Hold it together, Scotty," Kirk said too

softly for anyone to hear.

On the screen Kirk saw KerDaq stumble as the

wave hit, then grab on to one of the huge support

pillars running through the Klingon bridge. He

held on there, sneering at Kirk until the wave

had passed, then let go.

"Kirk," he said, moving a step closer to the

camera so that his face filled the screen. "If you and

your Federation destroyed this system, you will pay. I will

be watching."

With that the screen went blank.

Kirk tilted his head slightly, a bit bemused

that he had ever thought KerDaq reasonable. Then he

turned to Spock. "I don't think that went very

well."

"Obviously," Spock said. 42

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"The Klingons have moved a short distance away,"

Chekov said. "They are holding

positions."

The screen once again showed the destruction throughout the

Tautee system. The rings were expanding slowly, the

rocks and asteroids spreading in an ever-lengthening band

that would eventually encircle the sun.

Kirk clenched a fist. It was time to get on with

what they were here for. The Klingons could watch all they

wanted, as long as they stayed out of the way.

"Mister Spock," Kirk said. "I need to know

what's causing those subspace waves. And I need

a way to rescue those survivors."

Mr. Spock glanced at him. "That will take some

time, sir."

"We don't have time, Mister Spock." Kirk

glanced at the destruction spread out in front of

him. "And I doubt those survivors do either."

Chapter Seven

FOLLE DIDN T COME BACK.

Prescott released the restraints on her

chair, but kept a grip on one arm. She had sat

in the semidarkness for hours waiting for him. She had

expected him to return, telling her that the

signal wouldn't work, or that the attempt was in vain.

Instead, he was gone.

On a deep level, one she didn't want

to examine, she was afraid that something had happened

to him. Strange that the thought of his death disturbed her so

personally. He would be one more body, one more corpse

on her

head.

Nothing more.

But he was Folle, and he was still alive when the

moon shattered, and he had supported her.

She hadn't supported him.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

She had ridiculed his attempts to survive.

What had her biology instructor in early

children's class said? The basic instinct of all

creatures is survival.

Even for her.

She let go of the chair arm. The extremely low

gravity felt odd. Moving was like swimming, only

without the weight of the water around her. The air

supported her[*thorngg'or at least that was what it

felt like[*thorngg'z she pushed off from her

chair, buoyed her up when she jumped, and

almost made her feel as if she could fly.

It took her no time at all to reach the doors

to the amphitheater.

Then she stopped. She hadn't been outside this

room since the moon shattered. Folle had been

her window into the rest of the center. She had hidden from

her colleagues and staff like a child expecting

discipline from a parent.

Time to face the world again.

Or what was left of it.

She took a deep breath of the dry, stale air

and pulled open the big door.

The dim lights made the corridor seem

narrower than she remembered. Some chunks of

steel had fallen out of the ceiling. Long cracks

ran alongside the walls. Dust and debris

floated here, too, like they did inside, only here

they bounced off the walls, and had odd

trajectories. The air seemed thicker, harder

to breathe. The low ceiling now felt like a threat instead

of a comfort.

At any minute, it might topple on her.

But she faced that same threat inside the

amphitheater.

45

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

It was time for her to move. Time for her to go

to Folle.

If he still lived.

She took another deep breath of the

dust-caked air. Her throat was dry. Folle

had brought her food and water the last two days.

She had done nothing to survive. And now he

wasn't thinking of her at all.

She would go to the communications center. If he

wasn't there, working on the

signal[*thorngg'well, she would worry about that

then.

At first, as she made her way down the

corridor, she tried to pretend to walk. But that

was like walking in neck-deep water. Her body

wanted to float. It was hard to stay on the ground.

The designers had built railings for the times when the

gravity ran out, but most of the railings had been

dislodged in the destruction.

Finally, she gave in, jumped forward, and kept

one hand above her so that she didn't rise too high

and hit her head on the ceiling.

The trip went quickly.

Most of the doors were closed or off their hinges, the

emergency lighting obscured by clouds of dust that

followed her. She was starting to understand why Folle had

been picking small metal objects out of the air and

putting them in his pockets. She had dodged more than

one piece of metal. Another

slammed her in the head. She hadn't been

traveling very fast and the piece of metal had been

coming at her at an even slower speed, but the combination

of her speed and the metal's speed caused a

collision that left a cut on her scalp.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

A few small droplets of blood floated

away as she quickly ripped a small piece of

cloth off her pants leg and held it against the wound.

It didn't really hurt. It was just annoying, because it

functioned as a reminder that she was still alive when so

many others weren't.

She was almost to the communications room when the station

started vibrating. The railing beside her banged against the

wall, sending a clanging through the narrow passage.

More debris floated by, this time at quicker speeds.

She wedged herself into a corner, hoping that nothing would

fall on her, nothing would hit her.

Then the vibrating stopped.

As it always did.

She knew some time soon it wouldn't stop.

She clung to the steel walls for a moment, shaken,

her eyes so dry that they hurt. She felt different

from the way she had before, and she wasn't sure why.

Until she realised.

She had protected herself.

For the first time since she watched the first planet

shatter, she had taken care of herself. In- stead of

acquiescing to her death, she had actually tried

to prevent it.

She wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not.

She pushed a loose strand of hair off her

face, and wiped the dust from her nose. Her skin was

caked in dirt. Her hair was probably silver with

debris. Her clothing was in shreds.

And there was nothing she could do to

change any of it.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

She continued to make her way toward the

communications room. The corridor widened near it.

The door was open, and the light from inside

seemed brighter.

Maybe that was because she knew there were people inside.

She used the door to lever herself inside.

Three of her officers crowded around one lone

console panel. The other consoles were on their

sides, shattered, or ripped open for parts. Some

of the bolted chairs remained in place. Others were

shoved against the consoles, braced so that they wouldn't

float free in the low gravity.

Folle had his thin frame in the only chair in

front of the console, and beside him Carad and Rogaur

floated, watching. Both still wore their white lab

coats, now stained with dust and black streaks.

Carad's bald head had a nasty cut across the top

that made her remember her own. She again tapped it

with the scrap of cloth. It seemed the wound was clotting

or filling with dust. For the moment either would work.

The communications panel in front of the three men

was the only panel in the room

showing any power. Folle was typing something on the

panel.

"Did you have some luck?" she asked, floating up

to the back of Folle's chair and pulling herself down

into a standing position.

Folle started as if he had heard a

ghost. He glanced over his shoulder at her. And then

he smiled, the look full of warmth and welcome.

"We think we're sending on ten different bands,"

he said, as if her presence was not unusual, "but we

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

have no way of knowing for sure. But we have

to constantly keep inputting the data to keep it

running."

"How long did it take you to get the signal

running?"

"A while," Folle said. "I'm sorry I

forgot to bring you supplies. I lost track of the

time."

"That's fine," she said. Carad glanced at her as

if surprised that Folle had been taking care of

her. "I'm out now. I'll manage just fine."

"I knew you would," Folle said. He had

returned his attention to the console. Somehow, it had

become more important than she was. She wondered

when that had happened.

"You really think this will work?" she asked, hearing and

wincing at the hope in her own voice.

"In order for people to find us, they have to know we're

here."

What people? she wanted to ask, but she didn't.

They were busy. They weren't brooding. They would

spend their last few days well, instead of feeling

sorry for themselves like she was.

Like she was.

Oh, hell. It was time she started taking care of

herself as well. Death wasn't coming as quickly or as

easily as she would like. It was her philosophy

professor at the Studies Center who had said it

was better for a person to live in perfect understanding of

his crime than to die for that crime in complete

ignorance.

She finally understood what the professor had

meant.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

He had meant there were times when living was a greater

torture than dying.

It was time to accept her fate.

"I'm going back to the observation room. Maybe

I can get something working there. If there's someone out

there, maybe I'll find them." She let go of

Folle's chair. "Keep me posted."

The men knew she had no chance of getting

any of the observation equipment running

again, just as she knew their signal had no hope.

But like her they didn't say anything.

"Good luck," Folle said without turning away from

his work.

"You too." She pushed off slowly for the door.

Better to keep busy than to brood. The only

difference was Folle had himself convinced that some

mythical rescuer would appear.

She knew rescue was impossible.

The only people left alive in the entire universe

were in this station, as trapped as she was.

And when the center broke open, as it

inevitably would, they would all die.

Together.

Chapter Eight

CAPTAIN BOGLE remained in his captain's

chair, fingers gripping the arms. These subspace

waves disturbed him, in more ways than one. If they

could destroy a planet, they could destroy a ship.

And he didn't like putting his ship and crew in

unnecessary danger at any time.

He was having his officers monitor the waves

to see if they were growing in intensity. And also

to discover any other information they could about them.

Kirk's interaction with the Klingons bothered him

too. Something about the interchange

hadn't seemed right. Kirk had done fine

considering the Klingon's hostility, but it seemed as

if Kirk's ego had gotten in the way.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

"The Enterprise is hailing us, sir," Ensign

Gus- tavus said.

"Put it on screen," Bogle said.

He stood as Kirk's face filled the screen.

Kirk looked just as tousled as he had the last time

they'd talked. Bogle imagined he didn't look

much better since they'd ridden out three of the

subspace waves now.

"Nice job with the Klingons," Bogle said, not

smiling.

Kirk smiled and half laughed. "They always

love my charm." Then Kirk's smile faded.

"My science officer and chief engineer have a way

to get us inside the system. Fo where that signal is

coming from."

"Do they have a way back out?" Bogle

said.

"We'll get out." Kirk sounded impatient.

He clearly had a plan and wanted to tell

Bogle about it.

Bogle motioned for his science officer, Lee,

to join him. "You think we should respond to that

emergency signal we've been picking up?"

"The signal started after we appeared," Kirk

said.

"It could have been triggered by one of those waves,"

Bogle said.

"It could have," Kirk said. "Or survivors

might have triggered the signal themselves. We don't

know. But we need to find ou t."

Bogle glanced at Lee. Lee was frowning.

Rodriguez was monitoring the EU-INGON ships on

his navigational computer. Klingons,

subspace waves, and an emergency beacon.

Kirk was well known for 52

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

his tendency to rush in, to solve the problem no

matter how difficult. Bogle had gotten his

com- mand by being more cautious. And this seemed like a very

logical time to be very, very cautious.

"Maybe we should see if we can verify

the distress signal. It might be a Klingon trap

of some sort."

Kirk waved his hand in the air as if brushing

aside Bogle's worries. "My science officer

tells me that asteroid could shatter in any of these

waves. If there are survivors, they'll be

killed. The faster we move the better."

"He's right, Captain," Lee said softly.

"If there are survivors, we have to get them out.

Quickly."

Bogle glanced sharply at Lee and then turned

back to Kirk. He didn't like the idea of risking

his ship in those waves. He would rather face Klingons

than lose the Farragut to some

unknown weapons system.

He sighed. Kirk arrived first.

Kirk had already assessed the situation.

Kirk had a phenomenal success rate.

And Kirk was right this time.

The survivors, if there were any, might be the

last of their destroyed race.

"All right," Bogle said, doing his best to keep

the irritation out of his voice. "What's your plan?"

As he asked the question, he wondered if they should have

been scrambling the message. The Klingons

were probably listening. But, then, what harm would that

do? All they would learn would be about the rescue

mission.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

"We try the old two-steps-forward-one-back

routine," Kirk said.

Bogle felt like that maneuver had been left out

of his playbook.was Kirk using a code after

all? He knew Starfleet procedure for letting

another commander know that the message was going to be

encoded. This wasn't it.

"Run that by me again."

Lee cleared his throat beside Bogle and then, without

waiting for permission to speak, said, "I understand it,

sir. We go in between waves and then to reduce the

effect of the wave we ride it outward for a short

distance. Surfing the wave. It's brilliant. And

I think it might work."

"Exactly," Kirk said. "The waves might be

more intense the closer we get into the system, and so

we'll be in them longer, riding with them, but it should work

just long enough to see if there are survivors."

"I'm still lost here," Bogle said. Now

he made no pretence in hiding his irritation.

"Explain this scheme to me one more time."

Lee broke in before Kirk could say anything.

He'd have to talk to Lee about this later.

"Imagine," Lee said, "that you are standing in

shallow water on the beach and a five-foot wave is

coming at you. If you stand there it will probably knock

you down. However, if you turn and float with it,

surf with it toward the shore, you won't feel its

force as much."

"And a starship will hold together through all this?"

Bogle asked Kirk, not looking at his first 54

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

officer. The Farragut had gone through a

number of difficult, stressful maneuvers, but

nothing quite like the one Lee described.

Kirk laughed, but there was no real joy in his

voice. "My chief engineer, Mister Scott,

assures me she will and so far he's never let me

down."

Bogle wished he had time to check with his own

engineer, Projeff, while this conversation was happening.

And he would, before the ship went anywhere near those

debris fields.

Lee was leaning forward beside Bogle,

caught up in the idea. "It would be better to go in

over the plane of the system," Lee said, "and come

down from on top of the debris field left by the

destruction of the planets. Less chance of collision

that way."

Kirk glanced off screen for a moment, then nodded.

"We'll do that. But Kelly, you'll be out here alone

with the Klingons."

"You don't think both ships should go in?"

Bogle asked, trying to ignore the thread of

relief running up his spine.

"No," Kirk said. "I think two ships might

con- fuse the matter. And besides, no point in

risking two ships at this point."

"I can handle the Klingons," Bogle said.

That much, anyway, was for the better, as far as he was

concerned.

Kirk ran a hand through his hair. It only made

the tousling worse. "I'll tell the Klingons what

we're going to do, and I'll ask them to help in the

rescue."

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

Whatever Bogle had expected Kirk

to say next, it wasn't that. The joke around

Starfleet command was that the word "help" wasn't even

in the Klingon lexicon[*thorngg'at least when it

came to nonKlingons who needed the help.

"Help?" Bogle asked. "Are you kidding?"

Kirk shrugged. "What could it hurt?"

Now Bogle knew that Kirk was completely

crazy. He'd always half thought so, but now he

knew. Shaking his head, he said, "I guess it

won't hurt to ask. If they decide to join you,

it'll keep them busy for a while."

"And if they don't, you'll be out here with four

Klingon vessels."

Bogle snorted without meaning to. "Don't

worry about us, Jim. We can hold our own just

fine."

Kirk's grin was sudden and mischievous. "I

know," he said. "I've played cards with you. Re-

member? Stand by. I'll link you into the

conversation with the Klingons."

The screen went dead. Bogle sat in the

captain's chair, still shaking his head.

The circular bridge of the Klingon cruiser was

filled with activity. No one spoke. The green

walls and the dim lights made the bridge

seem wartime dark. That was probably

appropriate. War was as close as the tip of an

enemy's dagger.

KerDaq's second-in-command, and his closest

ally on the ship, KobtaHave, searched for the center

of the rift. KerDaq could trust none of his other 56

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

officers to find it and report the result to him in

a timely fashion. Several of his bridge crew had

recently arrived, and all needed to prove them-

selves before he trusted them. His commander's chair was

too precious to lose to a zealous young Klingon with a

name to make.

The other bridge officers were monitoring the

situation as well. They all knew this was the kind of

encounter that could go very badly for all of them, or

extremely well.

KerDaq intended to make it go well.

But they had done nothing except talk to the

Federation starships since they arrived. And they could do

nothing else.

Yet.

They had to wait.

KerDaq hated waiting. He was a warrior, not

someone who sat and waited. But he knew

every warrior had to have patience, had to know when to fight

and when not to fight.

This was not yet the time to fight.

The Federation ships first had to show him where their

secret superweapon was hidden.

He had a plan.

The Federation would have to retrieve their weapon.

KerDaq and his officers had studied the subspace

waves. Their ship could go into the waves and survive

if they moved with the waves as they passed. It would be

risky, but it would be worthwhile.

Then, when the Federation ships had the weapon, he

would take it from them.

KerDaq would have the Federation weapon. He 57

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

would personally take the weapon to the High

Council. Then he would be a hero.

"Commander," KjaHave, his science officer, said, his

voice rumbling through the silence, "we are still unable

to pinpoint the origin of the subspace waves."

KerDaq swung around in his high-backed

command chair and glared at his science officer.

"What can be so hard?"

"Sir, our position does not allow us a

good reading. If we could move . . ."

"We will not move," KerDaq said. He spoke

firmly. "Find the center, for at that center is the

Federation superweapon."

"Yes, sir," KjaHave said, snapping his heels

smartly on the fioor. He turned back to his

panel.

KerDaq nodded and swung back to face the main

screen, which showed the two Federation ships and the

destroyed system beyond. He tugged at the edge of his

gloves, making certain their steel points rested

across his knuckles. His science officer knew when

to back down and when to fight. That was the sign of a good

warrior. He would have to keep a sharp eye on him.

"Sir," Communications Officer KenIqu said.

"The Enterprise hails us."

"On screen," KerDaq said loudly. Then

to himself he added, "Let us see what kind of

treachery they are up to now."

Kirk's sneering face filled the screen.

KerDaq growled to himself. This Kirk was quickly

becoming one of the most hated and feared 58

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

officers in the Federation. KerDaq could see no

reason for the fear at the moment. Kirk had

no more strength than any other Federation weak- ling.

"Commander," Kirk said, nodding slightly.

At least, KerDaq thought, the man knows how to show

respect.

"We're going into the debris fields in the sys-

tem," Kirk said. "We think we may have found

survivors there. We're going to attempt a

rescue of them. And[*thorn]" He paused for

obvious

dramatic effect. "[*thorngg'we could use

your help."

Kirk's words so surprised KerDaq that he

laughed, a full belly laugh as if a warrior

had just told a humorous story over a strong

drink.

Kirk's ugly human eyes narrowed. "What

is so funny, KerDaq?" he asked.

KerDaq leaned forward so that Kirk could see his

insignias, the badges of his house and his honor.

This Kirk thought him an idiot, easily tricked.

KerDaq would prove that wrong

immediately.

"You cannot fool us with your rescue ploy. You are

going in to retrieve your weapon."

This time it was Kirk's turn to look

shocked. KerDaq knew he had caught him in a

lie.

Human captains hid their emotions,

unsuccessfully, but valiantly. This wide-eyed

shock, this obvio us reaction, was part of the trick,

inexpertly done.

Kirk shook his head. "I told you, KerDaq,

we don't have a weapon. But we have received a

distress call, and we will not ignore it. We're

going in. We would like you to come with us."

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

"You have another ship," KerDaq said. "You do not

need us."

"We don't know how many survivors there are,"

Kirk said. "The more ships we have, the more space we

have to beam survivors aboard."

"You are quite inventive," KerDaq said. "But we

have done our own scans of your waves. Any ship that

ventures into that system would be destroyed. Unless, of

course, it understood the weapon, and had a way

to shield itself from the weapon's effect."

"We don't have any special shield," Kirk

said. "But we do have a plan.

If[*thorn]"

"Enough, Kirk." KerDaq swept his arm in the

general direction of the ruined system. "Do as you

please. But we will be watching and

waiting. Do not think you can leave this area with that

weapon."

KerDaq pounded the button on his chair and cut

Kirk's answer off. There was no use

listening to any more lies. He would not let Kirk

lead one single Klingon warrior to his death. He

would watch where Kirk went,

shielded, into the center of the destruction.

And he would watch Kirk remove his weapon.

He would let Kirk's actions prove his

guilt.

"Commander," KenIqu said, "the Enterprise is

moving."

KerDaq nodded. "Inform the QuaQa that we will be

following the Enterprise. The other two ships are

to remain close to the second

Federation vessel."

"Yes, sir," KenIqu said.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"Subspace wave approaching,"

KobtaHave said.

KerDaq sat back, smiling, holding on to his

chair while he watched the Enterprise move

slowly off.

Soon the great Captain Kirk would be

caught and disgraced. And the weapon that could do this

destruction would be where it belonged in the hands of the

Empire.

Chapter Nine

THE ENTERPRISE BROKE AWAY from the

Farragut and flew above the plane of the solar

system, staying a safe distance from the remains of the

planets. The bridge crew's expressions were

tight, focused. They knew there was a high risk in

this rescue operation, especially since there might not

be anyone left to rescue.

They were willing to take the chance. They trusted

Kirk. They always had.

And he trusted them as well.

"Full shields," he said. "Keep her steady,

Mr. Sulu."

"Aye, sir." Sulu's gaze was focused on

the screen.

"Captain," Chekov said. "Two

Klingon ships are following us." He glanced over

his shoulder, his eyes wide with surprise and tension.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Kirk smiled. So, KerDaq had decided

to tag along after all. He wouldn't come down into the

debris fields, but he would stand watch. Well, as

far as Kirk was concerned they could watch all they

want. There was no superweapon, and he doubted the

Federation would ever work on one.

"Captain?" Chekov's accent got thicker when

he grew nervous.

"Monitor them, Ensign," Kirk said.

"But Captain[*thorn]"

"Monitor them," Kirk said, his smile growing.

KerDaq knew how to get through those waves as much as

they did. Perhaps he was worried that in saving the

survivors, Kirk would discover the Klingon's

weapon. Always, Kirk had

learned, always listen to your enemies"

professed fears, because often they were talking about

what they would do[*thorngg'or what they had

done[*thorngg'themvs.

Chekov was sputtering. He bent over his

console.

"Oh, and Ensign," Kirk said, enjoying

Chekov's consternation a bit more than he should,

"put the ship on yellow alert. Shields up and

extra power to the forward shield. I want the crew

to be prepared for anything."

"Aye, sir!" Chekov said with such relieved

fervor that Kirk had to stifle a laugh.

"Entering the debris field of the remains of the

fifth planet," Sulu said.

Kirk gripped the arms of his chair, even though the

ship hit no bumps. "Keep her

steady, Sulu," Kirk said.

Huge asteroids drifted past the screen. Between

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

the huge chunks of what was left of the fifth

planet were millions of tiny rocks and dust. They

bounced off the shields like stones

skipping over water. Kirk wasn't bothered much

by the small ones at this speed. The fear was running

into one too large for the shields to deflect.

Sulu didn't answer. He was obviously

concen- trating on keeping the ship on a course through

the large rocks.

"Dead ahead," Spock said.

"Full stop," Kirk said. The huge asteroid

looked barren from this distance. Kirk couldn't believe

life could have survived there.

"I believe we will need to move closer if we

are going to attempt the rescue," Spock said.

Kirk hated it when Spock used the word "at-

tempt." He was so precise that he meant each word

he said. Words like "attempt" meant

Spock had doubts as to whether or not the project

would succeed.

Kirk pushed himself out of the captain's chair.

No sense hesitating.

Or dwelling on the word "attempt."

They would succeed or die trying.

"Mister Sulu," Kirk said. "Take us in as

close as you can to that hunk of rock."

"Aye, sir." Sulu looked somber as he

punched in the coordinates. He would manually

maneuver the close-in work. It was too

sensitive for the computers.

In times like this Kirk sometimes ached to pilot the

ship himself. But Sulu was one of the best. Sulu would

bring them in safely.

64

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"Mister Sulu," Spock said, "we face our

first subspace wave in the debris field. It shall

arrive in one minute. I have fed a course into your

computer. On my mark, follow that course at

one-tenth impulse for exactly three seconds."

"Course laid in and waiting for your

command, Mister Spock," Sulu said.

Kirk glanced at Spock, who had his face

buried in his viewfinder. He had trusted his life

to Spock more times than he could remember. This time

he was trusting the entire ship to him. One slip and the

subspace wave would shake them apart, or slam them

into a huge piece of the planet.

"Captain," Uhura said, "the distress signal

is coming from inside the asteroid."

"Magnify screen, Mister Chekov."

A gray, jagged-surfaced rock filled the

screen, slowly rotating to the right.

"Fifteen seconds until my mark, Mister

Sulu," Spock said.

Kirk turned to IJ-HURA. "Can you get an

exact fix on the location, Lieutenant?"

"It's too deep underground, sir." She

swiveled toward him, her brow furrowed,

almost as if she didn't believe the readings. "At

least a

kilometer deep."

Kirk punched his comm button to

engineering. "Scotty," he said, "can you rig the

transporters to work through a kilometer of rock?"'

"I wouldn't want to beam in there," Scotty said,

his voice sounding far away. "But if it's the

survivors you'll be trying to beam out, we can do it.

If I can get a fix on them, that is."

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

"Now, Mister Sulu!" Spock said.

The Enterprise surged forward, leaving the jag-

ged hunk of rock behind.

Then the subspace wave hit.

Far worse than before.

The ship bumped and rocked like a boat on a

stormy ocean. Kirk gripped his chair, but that

didn't steady him. His body bumped in and out of the

chair as if it were a malfunctioning ejection seat.

Sulu braced his feet against the console in front

of him, but kept himself in place. Chekov bounced out

of his chair. Spock tumbled

backward, caught himself, but was unable to stand.

Giant hunks of the destroyed planet flashed

past the screen, and the shield howled and grew red with the

impacts of small rocks and dust.

Then the wave had passed.

Spock stood, dusted himself off, and returned to the

science station as if nothing had

happened. Chekov shook his head once as if he

were clearing it, then climbed back into his chair.

"Mister Sulu," Kirk said, "get us back

to that asteroid."

"Aye, sir."

The Enterprise wove her way through a maze of

rocks. The light vibrating continued from the pounding of

rocks against the shield.

"How are our friends the Klingons, Mister

Chekov?"

"The fleas are still with us, sir. But they are staying

safely above the debris field."

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Kirk nodded. The Enterprise continued to wind her

way through the debris cloud. The movement didn't

take very long, but it felt like forever.

Finally the huge asteroid filled the

screen again. The asteroid was vaguely triangular,

with large chunks of rock hanging off its side like

knives.

"Captain," Spock said, "we are now close

enough that I have been able to get more

precise readings from the asteroid. It was a part of the

fifth planet's moon, and is now the largest

remaining chunk of that moon. There is some sort of

base a kilometer underground. Most of the base has

been destroyed. But the signal does originate from

there."

"Survivors, Spock?" Kirk asked. He

could sud- denly feel his heart pounding against his chest.

So far they had been acting under supposition. Now

they might be able to get confirmation.

"I have very faint readings, Captain," Spock

said. "There seem to be ninety-two separate life

signs, all clustered in the same general area."

"Send the information to the transporter room."

Kirk punched the comm button so hard that he bent his

index finger backward. "Scatty, there are people

inside that asteroid. Get them out of there."

"Aye, sir!"

"Kirk to sickbay. McCoy, we have

survivors beaming aboard. I would imagine

many are in- jured."

McCoy's voice came back strong.

"Understood." 67

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

"Mister Sulu," Spock said, "we shall encounter

another wave in one minute and forty-six

seconds. I have sent new coordina tes to your

screen. On my mark, follow that course at

one-ninth impulse."

"Course laid in, Mister Spock."

"Come on, Scotty," Kirk said to himself.

He'd rather not ride another subspace wave through this

debris field.

"Captain," Spock said, keeping his face

buried in the viewfinder. His voice rose with

fascination. "Owing to our new location, I have finally

located the source of the subspace waves. They

originate from what appears to be a rift in space

in the area where the ninth planet used to be."

"A rift?" Kirk asked. The Klingons had a

weapon strong enough to create a rift in space?

How was that possible?

Kirk punched the comm button. "Scotty.

How's it going?"

"One minute, Mister Sulu," Spock said.

"We're getting them, sir," Scotty's

voice replied.

Kirk sat staring at the huge chunk of a moon

filling the screen. Hard to believe it had saved

ninety lives by staying together. Sometimes the universe

did strange things.

Spock held up his hand. "Five seconds,

Mister Sulu."

"Scotty!" Kirk barked into the comm. "Are you

finished?"

"No, sir. Beaming ninety-two people through a

kilometer of rock is precision work. If

I[*thorn]"

"Then we'll come back for the rest," Kirk said.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"Now, Mister Sulu." Spock's arm went

down as he spoke as if were starting a race.

And again the Enterprise flashed away from the

asteroid, riding the crest of the subspace wave like a

surfer headed for the beach.

A very rocky beach that Kirk hoped they'd never

hit.

69

Chapter Ten

THE TINY NOISES she made seemed

overwhelming in the cavernous room.

Prescott had crawled underneath the main- screen

control panel. She had portable lights at-

tached to her wrists[*thorngg'she couldn't find any

helmet lamps[*thorngg'and she had been working for

some time. She had discovered that Pollers

philosophy was right; it was better to be busy. That

way, she didn't have time to dwell on the hopelessness

of their situation.

Or on its cause.

When she had crawled under the panel, she had been

surprised. Despite the shaking and dust, the panel

appeared to be in fine shape. The problem was with the

lack of power (how ironic), the shattered connections

to the surface, and the 70

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

aboveground cameras, as she had expected. Still,

she double-checked every circuit, every system, and every

chip.

"Any success?" Folle's voice rang to her

from above. She hadn't even heard him enter. That

pleased her. She had been concentrating hard.

She shut off her wrist lights, pushed

herself free of the access panel, and half-floated

into an upright position. Her hands were covered with dust,

and she knew the sweat on her face was also making

black lines in the layers of dirt.

"Everything here is fine," she said. "I was about

to check to see if I could draw enough power from the

emergency field to connect to an outside camera,

if any are still out there."

Folle had turned and was holding on to the back of

her chair. "Good idea," he said. "Let

me[*thorn]" He started to push off from the chair

to move to the emergency power panel on the far wall

when suddenly his entire body started to shimmer.

The shocked look on his face told Prescott

that she wasn't imagining the effect. His entire

body really was shimmering, as if she were looking at

him through a layer of water and someone was stirring the

water up.

Then he was gone.

No noise.

No pop.

Nothing.

Gone.

One moment he was there and the next

moment he wasn't.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

"Folle?" she said, starting toward his last posi-

tion out of instinct.

He was gone.

She stopped, holding on to the back of her chair.

Maybe her mind was gone as well. The guilt and

stress of the last few weeks would have driven anyone

insane. Why would she

think she'd be any different?

"Folle?" she called out once more, only to have

her voice echo through the empty

chamber. Was this what happened when people died? Did

the billions of people who were alive when the waves hit

remain in place for a few moments, a few days, and

then shimmer into nothingness?

Or had she imagined him in the first place?

Maybe he hadn't come at all.

"You're starting to lose it," she said to the

emptiness. "Hang in there just a little longer."

Long enough to find him. He had to be on the station

somewhere. And if he wasn't, well, then maybe she

would have to examine his

disappearance as a death.

Another death caused by the experiment.

She gripped her chair, about to push herself toward the

door, when the station started to rumble and shake.

Several chunks of steel fell from the ceiling.

Dust floated around her. The emergency lights

flickered.

And she knew she was going to die.

She swung around into her chair and held on. Every

since she had followed Folle's advice, her

survival instincts had kicked in. She didn't

want to die.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Not anymore.

Even though she really didn't deserve to live.

Then the rumbling stopped and the dust

began to settle again, coating her and

everything in the room with another fine layer of

gray.

In front of her the blank screens taunted

her, laughed at her, told her by their very emptiness that

she wasn't dead. Yet.

Inside, she was still shaking. Folle's disappear-

ance terrified her more than she wanted to admit.

She had spent the last five years with him

on this research facility. They had been together most

of that time.

He was helping her through this, and she had thought they would

die together.

She brushed a strand of hair out of her face with

her wrist lamp, its plastic cool against her

forehead, and forced herself to take a deep breath. She

didn't know he was dead yet. She had to search first.

She was a scientist. Scientists waited for

evi- dence.

She hadn't touched him when he was here the last time.

She had been working. She had been under a lot of

strain. People who were under stress imagined things.

Like that odd feeling all over her body, as if

something very small were breathing on her skin.

All of her skin.

She brought her arm down, and stared at it. It was

composed of multicolored light. And it was shimmering.

She opened her mouth to call for help

when[*thorn]

[*thorngg'everything went black. 73

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

Then almost instantly, she was in bright light. She

blinked. The air was clear here, and it

smelled fresh.

"Captain," said a strange voice with an even

stranger accent. "I've got one more set to go."

She blinked again. Red and green spots

danced in her vision.

"Excellent, Scotty. Do it quickly. I'd like

to be out of here as soon as possible." The second

voice had a tinny quality and a completely

different accent, another one she had never heard before.

Slowly the glare eased and she could see. She was

standing on a platform with several circles on it.

Directly across from her a man in a red uniform

stood behind a console. He grinned at her, an

infectious twinkle in his eyes. His skin was pale,

and his hair was a shade of black she had never seen

before.

Two other red-uniformed people stood beside an open

door. Beyond it was a yellow corridor.

She swallowed and glanced at her arm[*thorn]

surreptitiously, she hoped. It was normal,

as dustcovered as it had been in the main control

room. Then she saw movement beside her. On the

platform, three other members of her staff stood.

She could have sworn they weren't there when she first

arrived.

"And that's the last of them," the man said. He

spoke loudly, as if he were addressing someone

else. But the people at the door were staring straight

ahead, like guards, and no one else appeared to be in

the room.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Except Folle, standing in the shadows to her

left.

"Folle," she said, breathing his name like a

lifeline.

Scatty grinned, stepped forward, and held out his

hand to help her down from the

platform. "Welcome to the Starship Enterprise,

was he said.

Chapter Eleven

THE ENTERPRISE SWUNG out of the debris

field left from the breakup of the fifth planet and

its moon. Kirk let his grip on his chair

relax slightly. Taking a starship twisting and

weaving in through a thousand floating

mountains, all moving in different directions at

different speeds, was not his idea of excitement.

However, he couldn't contain his elation.

They had rescued the survivors. Scotty had

pulled them from their asteroid tomb, and they would be able

to go on with their lives.

Very different lives from the ones they had before, but

lives just the same.

Still, he couldn't let the elation overtake him. The

Enterprise wasn't out of this mess yet.

The slowly forming rings surrounding the

Tautee

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

sun stretched out on the viewscreen. Kirk

felt like he was staring out over the top of a desert

wasteland. Such devastation, and it had

happened so quickly.

"Take us back to the Farragut's position,

Mister Sulu. As quickly as you safely can."

"Aye, sir." The strain of manually

maneuvering around the huge asteroids had formed tiny

exhaustion lines around Sulu's eyes. Still, his

concentration never seemed to waver. At moments like this

Kirk was very proud of his crew.

"Both Klingon vessels are still following us,"

Chekov said, almost sneering in disgust.

"Let them," Kirk said. The Klingon

shadows annoyed him, too. "As long as they stay out

of the way."

"Captain?" Spock said. He had an odd

note in his voice.

Kirk glanced at him. Spock never showed

elation[*thorngg'he rarely showed any emotion at

all[*thorngg'b Kirk had learned to read the

subtle nuances in Spock's inflections.

Kirk didn't like the sound of this one.

He swiveled his ch air to make sure he could

see his science officer clearly. For a moment he

almost thought he saw a troubled expression on

Spock's face, then dismissed the idea. Spock

looked as impassive as always.

"I have been scanning a few of the larger asteroids

in the rings created after the breakup of the four inhabited

planets."

"Looking for survivors," Kirk said, feeling

an odd fluttering sensation in his stomach. He

wanted 77

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

to find more survivors, wanted the destruction to be

less serious than it seemed.

But he also knew that the Enterprise and the

Farragut had serious limitations in the rescue

effort, and if more survivors were out there, they would need

to be pulled off those asteroids immediately.

"I have found six other possible pockets of

survivors," Spock said. "The survivors would

seem to be in underground bunkers on larger

asteroids. Based on these observations, I believe

there may be as many as a dozen more bunkers and

cavities filled with survivors among the

asteroids."

A dozen more. They had rescued almost one hundred

people off this one. The Enterprise barely had room for

them.

Kirk pushed himself out of his chair, and hurried

toward the science station. He leaned over the console,

but saw no numbers. As usual, Spock had done

the calculations in his head.

"Are you sure?" Kirk asked.

Spock's long face suddenly seemed even

longer. He raised one eyebrow as if he

couldn't believe that the captain had questioned him.

"Absolutely, Captain," Spock said.

"But at these distances, Mister Spock, how can you

get accurate readings?" Chekov asked the question from his

post near the screen.

Uhura was watching them.

Sulu had his head cocked, so that he could keep

an eye on his work while monitoring the conversation.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

They all understood the risks behind finding new

survivors.

"At these distances," Spock said, in his slow,

pedantic,

I-cannot-believe-anyone-would-ask-thisquestion voice,

"and with these subspace disturbances, I cannot get

actual readings of humanoid forms9"

"Oh," Kirk said.

Spock glanced around, and when no one else said a

word, he continued. "However, I have searched the

asteroids for such places as the bunker we just found,

places that would hold atmosphere, and would sustain

life since the planets' breakup. We must also

calculate the incalculable factors as well.

We found a moon base. I am looking at the

planets only. We must assume there are other

moon bases, and

perhaps even a spaceship or two which survived

unscathed. We[*thorn]"

"How many survivors?" Kirk asked.

He had grown tired of the explanation. He wanted

to know what was before him. He wanted to know what

decisions he faced next.

"I cannot give you a precise figure,"

Spock said.

Kirk groaned.

Spock pressed on. "There are too many varia-

bles. But the survivors of this incident may

number in the thousands, possibly more."

"The thousands, possibly more." Kirk said, re-

peating Spock's words, not believing his ears.

He took a step backward. His stomach ached,

and his mind swirled.

"Thousands?"

Dean Wesiey Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

"Yes, Captain," Spock said. "Thousands."

Kirk staggered to his chair, and sat down. Be-

tween the Farragut and the Enterprise, they might be

able to rescue five hundred.

But thousands were not possible without help.

A lot of help.

"Captain," Spock said. "Time is of the

essence. With every subspace wave, the threat

to these survivors grows."

"I know, Spock." Kirk took a deep

breath. The main screen displayed the Farragut and

four Klingon cruisers. Even if the Klingons

deigned to help them, there wouldn't be enough room on the

ships for thousands of survivors. The Federation had

to send more ships.

But he didn't know if they would.

The Prime Directive. Admiral

Hoffman's

warning came back clearly to his mind.

Rescuing a few hundred survivors of a

subwarp culture was one thing, but rescuing thousands

and thousands would, through an odd twist of fate,

violate the Prime Directive.

The Prime Directive stated that cultures

had to live without interference from more advanced peoples.

That allowed the cultures to develop at their own

pace. Part of that development for many cultures,

including Earth's, meant flirting with their own

destruction. Famine, flood, and war threatened each

culture at various times. It was natural.

The Federation could save the remaining hun- dred or

so of a race because the culture was effectively dead.

But to beam up thousands meant 80

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

that this pre-warp culture would continue and suddenly

learn about the existence of starships and warp drive and

humans and Vulcans and Klingons.

Saving thousands meant violating the Prime

Directive.

It meant a direct involvement in lives that should

have no involvement at all.

The Federation had discovered the hard way that it was

better to let the race suffer through its own natural

existence[*thorngg'whatever that might

be[*thorngg'than to interfere.

But in this case, the "natural existence" meant

certain death for thousands.

He couldn't let thousands die.

But he didn't really have a choice. His orders

were that he had to.

Chapter Twelve

BRUISES, CUTS, BROKEN BONES.

And filth.

McCoy hadn't seen that much filth since he

went back in time to old Earth. Although these people couldn't

be blamed for the dirt. They had lived for weeks in a

crisis situation.

McCoy was working in the cargo decks. The

hundred survivors fit better in here than they

did in sickbay. Security was carrying the worst

of the wounded[*thorngg'^th with shattered limbs,

gangrenous infections[*thorn)'ffsickbay, where

Nurse Chapel would sedate them until McCoy

could get there.

Fortunately he had found no internal injuries

yet. And even more fortunately, Scotty's golf

contraption was disassembled. Instead of fake green

grass and mist off the sea, the deck had been 82

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

transformed into a makeshift hospital and

refugee area full of beds, blankets, and

wounded.

Tauteeans leaned against walls, and lay, eyes

closed, on beds. A few sat on chairs, their

short legs unable to reach the ground. They didn't

look like children, though. They looked like shrunken

humans.

But they weren't human.

Tauteeans were a thin-boned, almost birdlike people.

He doubted that the heaviest of them weighed more than a

normal ten-year-old child. The men were no more than

five feet tall, and the women were shorter

than that. But they had a compelling attractiveness that

had something to do with their frailty, and with their delicate

bodies. Something that made McCoy want

to protect them.

Maybe it was the sense of despair around them.

McCoy had been on rescue missions before, and the

survivors always celebrated when they were lifted

away from certain death. Then, days[*thorn]

sometimes months[*thorngg'later, they felt

survivors' guilt. But these people seemed to be

feeling it already. Even the ones who weren't seriously

wounded closed their eyes and didn't speak much to those

around them.

The silence in the bays was unnerving. His voice,

blended with that of his current patient, would bounce

against the high ceiling, sending mocking echoes throughout.

No one looked, no one watched, not even to see

if a colleague was all right. Not even after a 83

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

subspace wave hit, and they all clutched the

nearest post, the nearest wall, for balance.

McCoy would have to monitor all of his

patients carefully. Despair this deep made

a shallow cut deadly; he had learned

long ago that people who wished to die often could force their

bodies to cease functioning properly.

In fact, he was more worried about their mental

conditions than their physical ones. The loss of a

house, a dwelling, a plot of land, was bad enough.

The loss of a country was

devastating. The loss of a planet, and the

destruction of a solar system, was beyond his comprehension.

Not only was the beloved dwelling gone, but so were the

land that it rested on and the air that surrounded it. He

hadn't returned to his family home, his Earth,

in a long time, but if he received news that Earth and

her sister planets were gone[*thorn] well, the

thought made his breath catch in his throat.

McCoy was working on a man who had cuts all

over his hands and arms. One long gash ran down the

side of his cheek, and bumps rose from his forehead as

if he had been hit with a dozen rocks. The cuts

were dirty but not yet infected. McCoy shot the

man full of antibiotics and gingerly picked up

the man's left hand. McCoy was leery of these fine

bones. If he gripped them too hard, he felt

he would shatter them with his simple touch.

The man had moaned once, when McCoy

touched a particularly deep slash in the

upper arm, and then had said nothing else. His

breathing sounded loud in the cargo bay's stillness.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Then McCoy heard a chair clang. He

glanced to his left, past the rows of barrels that

Scotty kept for some unknown purpose, and watched

a slender dark-haired woman move from person

to person. She touched each Tauteean she

passed, and spoke softly. They smiled in

response. Sad smiles, but smiles

nonetheless.

The woman moved with both leadership and apology,

as if she were accepting responsibility for everything.

McCoy had seen Jim Kirk do the same in

difficult situations. The leadership seemed to give

the others strength, and the apology was an acknowledgment

of their pain.

McCoy smiled to himself and went back to his work.

Her low voice soothed even him. Her touch with these

people would probably help them more than McCoy could.

He had finished with the man's arms and had just reached

for the long gash when he felt a presence beside him.

McCoy looked down. The woman was running her

fingers over the man's healed skin.

"Be careful," McCoy said. "It'll still be a

bit tender."

She looked up at him, her dark eyes intense

and shadowed at the same time. "It looks

healed," she said. Her voice was rich, deep, and

musical.

"It is," McCoy said. "But the memory of the

pain remains for about an hour."

A man came up behind her. He was as tall as

she was. He put a hand possessively on her

shoulder. She didn't shrug him off, but she

didn't acknowledge him either. The man didn't

seem to mind.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

She watched for another minute, then seemed

to gather herself. She obviously hadn't come to talk

about the wounded. She had come for

something else.

McCoy finished cleaning the gash, then

pinched its edges together and mended the skin. The other

man gasped[*thorngg'obviously this

technology was beyond them[*thorngg'b the woman

didn't. She waited until McCoy

was finished.

He glanced down at her, and she lifted her chin,

clearly ready to ask her question.

"I would like to speak to your . . ." The woman

hesitated for a moment before finding the right word. "dis . .

captain. Is there some way you can help me do this?"

Suddenly the ship rocked and shuddered as another

subspace wave crashed into it. The room seemed

to rumble, and people fought to keep their feet. McCoy

spread his feet and managed to remain standing over his

patient out of almost sheer will. The woman in front of

him also remained standing, while the man following her was

knocked to the deck. Screams and cries resounded

against the walls as wounds were reopened, and people fell.

McCoy also sensed an undercurrent of deep

fear. These people were afraid the subspace waves would

kill them. They had a right to be afraid.

And all reacted accordingly. All except this alien

woman beside him. She withstood the shuddering and shaking of the

deck as if it were only a passing annoyance and not

important in the scheme of things.

Almost as quickly as it hit, the shuddering 86

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

passed. The cries stopped, and the silence

returned. The woman was still looking at him

as if they hadn't been interrupted.

McCoy cleared his throat. "The captain is

pretty busy at the moment, as you might guess.

I can take you to him later when things are calmer."

"I think your captain will want to see me," the

woman said. "I am the leader of these people. I also have

information that might be helpful about the shock waves."

McCoy nodded and glanced around. This

room was under control. The survivors in the other

cargo bay weren't as badly injured as the folks

here. He needed to go to sickbay, to mend the broken

bones and work on the serious

infections, but he could take a detour to the

bridge. It wouldn't take long, and it might turn

out interesting.

"All right," he said. "I'm sure the captain

would appreciate the help. I'll take you to him."

He put out his hand. "I'm Dr. Leonard

McCoy."

The woman hesitated for a moment, then put her

surprisingly small hand in his, like a queen at a

Regency ball. "Prescott," she said, and,

indicating the man behind her, added, "This is

Folle."

McCoy nodded at her companion, and

resisted the urge to bow over her hand like a courtly

gentleman. Her strength attracted him, but her

fragility and sense of loss made him

protective. The man watched him warily.

McCoy reluctantly released her hand.

She was studying his face with puzzlement.

"Have I done something to offend you?" he asked,

suddenly worried that touching hands might 87

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

have a different significance in her culture than

it did in his.

She shook her head. "Dr. Leonard

McCoy, why do you have three names?"

McCoy opened his mouth, closed it, and

opened it again. Why did he have three names? He

suddenly couldn't think of a good answer.

She watched him with a seriousness that made him feel

as if his life depended on his answer.

Finally he just laughed and said, "My people have never

been known for doing anything the easy way."

Her puzzled frown kept him chuckling to himself

all the way to the turbolift.

Chapter Thirteen

THE BR-RDGE OF nrEvery Enterprise was as

silent as a tomb.

It felt as if time had stopped.

Uhura held a hand over her communications

console.

Sulu was still watching the screen, but his head was

tilted oddly as if he were trying to see the captain

out of the corner of his eye.

Chekov was watching him, eyes wide.

The three other ensigns on the bridge had

swiveled their chairs so that they could see the captain.

And Spock was studying him as if he were a

particularly interesting[*thorngg'and possibly

dangerous [*thorngg'extraterrestrial bug.

Kirk was used to the scrutiny, and he appreci-

ated the silence. He had to decide whether or not

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

rescue the remaining survivors of the Tautee

disaster[*thorngg'and how.

Spock said there might be thousands.

Thousands were more than the Enterprise and Farragut

could handle. And with that many survivors of a pre-warp

culture, a rescue attempt would be

violating the Prime Directive, and the Federation

would no doubt order him to back off if he asked for

more help.

But there had to be a way around the rules. He had

beaten the Kobayashi Maru and he

could beat this.

On the main screen in front of him the four

Klingon cruisers hung. They seemed to be just

waiting also. But why and for what, Kirk had no dea.

Maybe the Klingons were the key to solving the

survivors' problem. Kirk swiveled around

to face his science officer. "Spock, any theory as

to what caused this destruction?"

Spock raised an eyebrow as if that were not what

he expected the captain to ask. "I have no

concrete theory yet, Captain. I do not know what

caused the destruction. It may have been caused by the

Tauteeans. It may have been a natural disaster

of a type we have not seen before. I just do not know, and at

this moment I am unwilling to speculate."

"You could have just said no," Kirk muttered.

Spock swiveled, and glanced into his scope.

Kirk steepled his fingers. Thousands of lives

rested on this next decision.

Of course, his old colleague and

nemesis, Admir90

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

al William Banning, would have said that Kirk

did not trust the process well enough. The

Federation's guidelines were simple A pre-warp

culture had to develop naturally. If a

natural disaster wiped it out, then that was part of

"naturally." If a natural disaster hit, and

only a few survived, they needed the opportunity

to save themselves without help.

But Kirk wasn't convinced this disaster was

natural. And the Federation had no real

guidelines for what to do with the pre-warp

survivors of an attack by a more advanced race.

"Captain," Spock said, his voice calm as

always. "Another subspace wave shall hit us in ten

seconds."

"Could a Klingon superweapon have caused all

this?" Kirk asked.

Spock glanced over his shoulder at the

captain. Uhura took a deep, sudden breath

and held it.

Out of the corner of his eye Kirk could see Sulu

turn to look at him.

"At this point, Captain," Spock

said carefully, "I am not willing to speculate."

The entire ship shook and moaned as the internal

stabilisers fought to keep the ship level against the

huge forces shaking it. Kirk held on to the arms of

his chair and rode it out. The chair bumped against his

spine and legs, the thin cushion no protection against

each impact.

Sulu clung to the helm.

Chekov tried to swivel his chair back and

nearly fell again.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

And Uhura maintained her balance with the grace of a

ballerina.

They were getting used to these waves,

although this one felt as if it was bumping harder than

the last.

Spock frowned and even before the shaking had stopped

turned back to his scope. Kirk jumped to his

feet, relieved to be off that chair, and moved up

to the rail near the science station.

"Was that more intense?" he asked. He

already knew the answer. It was clearly a stronger

wave, but he needed Spock to confirm his

senses.

After a moment Spock looked up. "Since our

arrival into this system, the intensity of the sub- space

wave has increased by almost ten percent. The rate of

increase appears to be constant."

"Constant?" Kirk said. He had not expected

that. He had thought that all the waves had been

similar until this one. "Can you speculate on this

increase, Spock?"

"Unfortunately, yes, Captain," Spock

said. "If this rate of increase continues, the

Tautee sun will be torn apart in approximately

twenty-seven-pointthree days."

"Torn completely apart?" Kirk asked. He

couldn't wrap his mind around that level of de-

struction any more than he could around fifteen

planets destroyed.

Spock nodded. "Yes, sir. In sixty-two

days the closest planetary system will be

destroyed."

Kirk could feel his stomach starting to flutter, and

he took a deep breath. It didn't seem to

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

help. There were four billion more lives

in the Wheaten system. "It will spread that far?"

Kirk asked, his voice low, hoping he had heard

wrong.

Spock kept one hand on the science console, as

if he were still bracing himself against the subspace wave.

"If the rate of increase

continues, and I see no logical reason why it

should not, the waves emanating from this rift in space will

be strong enough to destroy the planet Vulcan in

approximately four hundred and eight days. And the

planet Earth twenty-six days later."

"Four hundre d and eight days?"

Kirk leaned against the rail. Its support

felt good against his back. Klingons, survivors,

the Prime Directive, and now this. They would have

to close that rift somehow, stop the waves. One year

and the Federation would cease to exist if he didn't

act. He had to stop those waves.

And he would wager the only way to stop the waves

was to know what caused them.

Kirk turned again to face Spock. "If these

waves are growing in intensity, Mr. Spock, how

long until we have to move the Enterprise?"

"Ten hours, Captain. I would recommend,

however, that we find a safer distance before that."

Kirk returned to his chair, and sat heavily

in it, instantly regretting the movement as a jolt

ran up his spine. Ten hours. Why did every

important event in his career have to have such a short

timetable?

He glanced at the Klingon ships on the screen.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

Suddenly rescuing Tautee survivors and

violating the Prime Directive seemed very

small. If he didn't act and act now, there would

be no Prime Directive, no Federation, and no

planet Earth.

The whir of the turbolift doors filled the

silence on the bridge. He didn't turn to see

who had entered. He had too much on his plate

already. The next problem, whatever it was, could

wait.

The bridge crew seemed to feel the same way,

for no one[*thorngg'except

Sulu[*thorngg'had taken their gaze off him.

They were waiting for him to act.

And act he would.

He clenched a fist and pushed it into the

armrest. "How do we close this rift in space,

Mister Spock?"

"I do not know, Captain. I do not even know how

it was created."

"I do, Captain."

Kirk didn't recognize the voice.

He spun quickly around to face Dr. McCoy and

tiny people who were obviously two of the Tautee

survivors. The man was staring at the equipment in

awe. He was small and delicate, looking more like a

boy than a full-grown being, except for the age

lines on his face.

The woman was staring at Kirk, her chin up. She

was the one who had spoken.

She was clearly the one in charge of the Tautee

survivors. Even though she was built as slightly

as the man, Kirk would never mistake her for a

teenager. Her clothes were ripped and tattered and her

face and arms covered with dirt, yet she had the

bearing and strength of someone who had been in command a

long,

long time.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"You know what happened?" he asked.

The woman moved forward around the

railing and down until she stood in front of

Kirk as if he were her judge. He looked down

at her.

"My name is Prescott," she said in a full,

rich voice. "I caused all this destruction."

Chapter Fourteen

SIR, WE CANNOT TELL what they beamed

aboard.

KerDaq glared across the war-darkened

bridge at KobtaH. Bits of smoke still

filled the air from the ruined control panel near the

door. One of his officers had fallen into it during a

subspace wave. Although KerDaq's back had

been turned at the time, he doubted the damaged

panel was an accident. He

suspected that the officer had been pushed. He had

been rising too quickly, and KerDaq had been

favoring him of late.

Such favoritism always set the officer up for

attack. The officer who could defend himself was the

only officer who rose beyond his

station.

Which brought KerDaq back to the problem that

faced him now. "You cannot?" He asked his science

officer.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"No, sir."

KerDaq scowled. He should cut the man

into pieces like the planets of this system. How could

he not know if the humans had beamed their superweapon

aboard? How could such

incompetence exist?

Especially on his ship.

"What could you identify?" He deliberately

let his voice fill with sarcasm. "Are you even

certain that they transported something

aboard?"

"Yes, Commander," KobtaHave said. "They

staged several large beam-outs from the center of that

asteroid."

"Several?" KerDaq asked.

"Yes, Commander."

"You had several chances and still you do not know?"

"I assumed it was the superweapon, sir."

"You assumed. You assumed. You did not

check."

KobtaHave bared his teeth. He knew that

KerDaq was questioning his competence. If KerDaq

continued to do so, the man's position would soon be

available to someone more

competent.

The rest of the bridge crew turned to watch the

interchange.

"Did you?" KerDaq stood, fingers tight

against the palm of his hand, the spikes on his

gloves catching the dim light. "You did not

check."

"No, Commander. But something of that size, and taking

that many beam-outs, could only be the superweapon."

KerDaq took a step closer to KobtaH.

There 97

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

would be no way to check now. KobtaHave's

incompetence had cost them knowledge. "You had better

ask the protection of Kahless in case you are

wrong."

"I am not wrong, Commander," KobtaHave said.

KerDaq squinted at him. KobtaHave was

shorter, his ridges smoother, but he had power, and

connections. KerDaq was not ready to discard him yet.

Besides, he believed that for all of

KobtaHave's incompetence, KobtaHave was

correct.

What else could induce Kirk to travel into the

middle of those subspace waves? This story of

survivors was a faulty cover. No air-breathing

creature could survive a disaster of this magnitude.

KerDaq grunted and returned to his

command chair.

He swiveled it, and leaned forward, glad it was

raised, glad that it made him seem even more powerful

than he was. "So you believe they are ready

to leave with their weapon?"

"I don't think so, Supreme Commander."

KerDaq smiled. KobtaHave only used his

official title when he was worried about

KerDaq's reac- tion. They had served a long

time together and KerDaq had seen that pattern before.

"Upon what facts do you base your opinion?"

KobtaHave glanced around. The others were

watching him, waiting to see how KerDaq would

punish him for such disastrous errors.

KobtaHave stood alone. No one came to his

rescue, and no one would.

He straightened his shoulders, accepting his

potential fate like a good Klingon, and

took a deep 98

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

breath. "I base my opinion upon this, sir. The

subspace waves are still increasing in power."

"They are, huh?" KerDaq spoke as if he

had expected that answer. But he had not. KobtaHave

had surprised him. And KobtaHave had found one of the

few things that would convince anyone.

KerDaq's silence seemed to make KobtaHave

nervous. "At this rate of increase," KobtaHave

added, "this sun will be destroyed in a very few days at

most."

"And destroy the remaining evidence."

KerDaq growled.

He swiveled his chair back into position and

glared at the screen. On it, the debris from the

destroyed planets formed quarter circles around the

sun. The Federation ships looked small and evil

against that backdrop.

The Federation's trickery was suddenly very clear.

They had come here, tested their weapon, retrieved

what the information they needed from the test and then set the

superweapon to destroy the sun. And in the process

the weapon and all the evidence would also be destroyed.

Kirk had probably not beamed aboard

the weapon, but the data.

"Brilliant," KerDaq said to himself. This was

Federation trickery on an unparalleled scale.

And if they could destroy a remote star system like

Tautee in less than a week, then they could do the

same to the Klingon Empire[*thorngg'or any

other system that offended them.

The Klingons needed the information on this weapon.

They needed to know how to defend 99

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

themselves, how to prevent any more

destruction of this kind.

"Inform the other commanders to follow my lead," he

said. "I want the Enterprise captured, not

destroyed."

"But Commander, they have[*thorn]"

"They have information vital to the survival of the

Klingon Empire," KerDaq said. "We shall learn

it. All of it."

KobtaHave grinned.

The other officers growled their approval.

KerDaq gripped the arms of his chair and leaned

forward. "On my signal," he said, "we will

attack."

"Captain," Science Officer Richard Lee

said, his voice suddenly holding a bit of panic in

it. "The Klingons are powering up their weapons and

raising shields."

"Red alert," Bogle said. "Hail the

Enterprise."

As if Kirk wouldn't have noticed. Not likely,

but it was better to take no chances. He'd play this

one exactly by the book.

Bogle ran a hand through his thinning hair. Too

much had been happening too quickly. His bridge

crew, hunched over their consoles, could barely keep

track of things. He suspected Kirk's were the

same way.

Bogle believed in the Prime Directive,

believed in it more than he believed in any other

aspect of the Federation. Saving one hundred

survivors could be squeezed past the Prime

Directive, just barely.

But thousands, as Kirk had informed him might loo

TEIE RINGS OF TAUTEE

still be in those rocks, could not. And as much as it

bothered his conscience, he understood the reasons behind it.

Laws applied in difficult circumstances,

painful circumstances, as well as easy

ones. They could not save those survivors.

Yet Bogle knew Kirk. He knew Kirk

would search for a way around this. If Kirk found that

way, it had to be within Federation guidelines or

Bogle would not agree to it. In fact, he would be

forced to stop Kirk, and he didn't want that

situation to happen.

Then there was this business about the

expanding waves, expanding so far that they would threaten

the Federation's home systems. Bogle shook his

head. More than enough for any commander to consider.

He had been thinking about those things, not about the

Klingons.

"I have Captain Kirk, si r," Gustavus

said.

"Put him on screen." Bogle rested his arms

on his captain's chair and leaned toward the view-

screen. He wanted to look at ease, even though

he was not.

Kirk, on the other hand, looked tense. And as

if he were thriving on the increased adrenaline. Behind

him red lights flashed. The Enterprise was also on

red alert.

"Do you have any idea what they're up to?"

Bogle asked.

"Knowing the Klingons," Kirk said, "it could be

anything. And their timing is typical too. I've

been hailing them and they're not responding."

"Do you think I should try?" 101

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

Kirk shook his head. "If he's not responding

to me, he won't respond to you."

"What have we done?" Bogle asked.

"Maybe nothing," Kirk said. "Maybe we're

too close to something they're protecting."

"A weapon?" Bogle had hoped this

destruction wasn't caused by a superweapon.

He just didn't want to believe that was possible.

"Perhaps," Kirk said, "Or perhaps they've just

decided they don't like us anymore. We'll just have

to ride this one out."

Bogle nodded. "We'll guard your back."

"We'll do the same for you," Kirk said.

"Kirk out."

The screen went dark for half a second.

"Gustavus!" Bogle said. "I want to see

those Klingons."

"Aye, sir," she said. The screen came back

on, showing four grey Klingon battle

cruisers against the slowly growing Rings of Tautee.

"Sir," Lee said, "they're moving."

And as he spoke, the ships split apart from each

other, and moved into attack formation.

Bogle stood so quickly his chair spun. "Arm

photon torpedoes and phasers and stand ready."

Two of the cruisers peeled away and moved in a

quick arching circle high above the two starships.

"Those two are making a run at us," Lee said.

"Wait until they fire the first shot," Bogle

said. He didn't want to be accused of starting a

war between the Federation and the Klingons.

Even though his heart was racing, he felt quite

calm. Now that he knew what the

Klingons were up 102

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

to, he could counter. He might not have spent much

time with Klingons, but he knew how to fight them.

"Then return fire. Pattern Alpha."

He sat down in his command chair and

braced himself. The few long seconds before the

Klingon ships began firing seemed to

stretch into a lifetime. His lifetime and maybe many

others.

His ship rocked with the impact. His

officers, braced as they were, simply moved with the

ship. Hands moved so rapidly he could barely see

them. And then, across the darkened

screen, a volley of photon torpedoes

streaked red as they headed toward the two battle

cruisers.

The battle was engaged and Bogle didn't even

know what they were fighting about.

And he really doubted Jim Kirk did either.

All he knew was that if all the races and people in

this sector were to survive, including the Klingons, the

Federation had to win this fight.

And they had to win it fast.

Chapter Fifteen

PRESCOTT CLUNG T 0 the railing on the

balcony encircling the ship's command center. Her

fingers barely fit around the cool,

unfamiliar surface. Everything was big here, and

powerful, and noisy.

The pulsating red lights were accompanied by a

blare that the alien crew didn't seem to notice.

The ship rocked and bounced from

what she had first thought were subspace

waves, and gradually began to realize was

another ship firing upon them.

Her mind was overloaded, her body rigid with

shock. She was coasting along the surface of things

when actually everything she had ever believed was being

shattered, much as her own experiments had shattered her

home

She didn't doubt that now. Perhaps she could 104

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

accept it because she was here, in this magical place,

with these extraordinary aliens.

They looked Tauteean, but they were big like

giants from the ancient mythologies. The men had

twice the height and girth of Folle, but they

carried it well, with muscle not fat.

The women were large too, and muscular, as if they

could fight every bit as well as their men. And even though

they seemed to know her

language perfectly, they spoke it with varying

accents[*thorn] some musical, as in the case

of the man who had brought them to the Enterprise, and some

harsh, like Dr. Leonard McCoy's.

Somehow she preferred Dr. Leonard

McCoy's accent.

He was standing on one side of her, clutching the

rail too. Only his long fingers wrapped

around it, and he moved with the rhythm of the ship as if he

had been born to it.

The others did as well, and she wondered where they

had been born, how they came here, and what they

were. They didn't seem to belong to the same race.

The rail-thin man with the greenish skin seemed

particularly unusual. His ears, his eyebrows, and

his skin tone marked him as different, but his attitude

was what made him seem especially alien. While

the other members of the crew rocked and worked and

muttered to themselves, he kept his balance and his

composure.

Prescott watched them all, feeling absurdly

detached. It was as if her mind had separated from her

body. After all the misery she had felt on the

destroyed moon, it felt odd not to feel anything

at 105

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

all. Her scientific brain told her that she

felt nothing because she had already given herself up for

dead. When that explanation felt lame, her brain

told her that she felt nothing because she was in shock.

But deep down, she actually believed she felt

nothing because she had already lost everything of

meaning. Losing her life was just a detail, and a

minor one at that.

Folle stood on her other side, looking as

numb as she felt. He was having trouble

keeping his balance. As the ship rocked, he

occasionally slammed into her, muttering an apology every

time. Finally she picked up one hand and placed it on

his. Dr. Leonard McCoy watched the movement

with interest.

No one else was looking at them.

Captain James Kirk had taken what

appeared to be his normal seat in the middle of the command

center, his attention never wavering from the huge screen

in front of his two crew.

The screen showed space. She recognized the

growing rings, the distant sun, and the remains of the

Tautee system. Her home. But smack in the

middle of the screen were two grey ships shaped like

Ne Lizards, with large heads, sleek backs, and

wings. These, apparently, were the enemy, the

Cling-Ons.

She wondered at the name, and hoped it

wasn't some type of attack. It would make them

even more like the Ne Lizards; once they

contacted the skin, they stuck.

Another ship was flanked by two grey vessels.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

The other ship, which looked like a saucer with a tail,

was apparently Captain James Kirk's ally,

Farragut.

So much information, so much was

happening, and she had no real way to make sense

of it all.

But she did know that the red streaks that appeared on

the screen were the weapons. She learned that by watching

one streak toward the screen. A second later, the

ship rocked with impact.

"Shields holding, sir," the large man with the

almost indecipherable accent said.

"Return fire, Mister Chekov," Captain

James Kirk said.

Streaks of light seemed to originate beyond the

screen. They grew smaller as they headed toward the

grey vessels, then exploded in orange balls

near the vessels' sides.

"Direct hit," Mister Chekov said, balling

his fist.

"Continue firing." Captain James Kirk

looked as if he were fighting the fight with his

bare hands. He moved constantly, leaning forward,

leaning back, watching each member of his crew. At

the moment, he swiveled his chair, and looked at the

greenish man. "How's the Farragut doing?

"They are firing upon two of the cruisers," the

greenish man said. He sounded as calm as he

looked. "They do not seem to have sustained any

damage."

"Good." Captain James Kirk stood and

stepped away from his chair. He stopped behind the

other large man, who had stared at the screen

continually. "Mister Sulu, take us directly at

KerDaq's ship."

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

"Aye, sir." Mister Sulu had a deep

soothing voice. Of all the alien crew, he was the

only one who sounded the most Tauteean.

Prescott could not feel the ship turn, but the

view on screen changed, sweeping away from the

grey vessels, and then suddenly toward one.

Bursts of red fire appeared against the darkness of

space.

Dr. Leonard McCoy's grip

tightened on the railing. He had been making small

snorting noises, disapproving noises, for some time

now. Finally, as the ship appeared to bear down on the

grey vessel, he muttered, "This is just plain

stupid."

Captain James K irk whirled. "You have an

opinion, Bones?"

"I always have an opinion, Jim," Dr.

Leonard McCoy said. "I think we're getting

a little side- tracked here."

"We didn't start this, Bones." Captain

James Kirk sounded testy.

"Well, I wish we'd hurry up and end it."

"So do I, Bones." the captain said. He

turned back to stare at the screen.

The two ships seemed to pass within touching distance of

each other on the screen, and again the Enterprise was

rocked as enemy fire

pounded it. Prescott could not imagine the force and

strength of these ships and these weapons. Races that could

travel between the stars like this must obviously have very, very

powerful weapons.

"Captain," Mister Chekov said, "the shields

are at eighty percent."

"Captain," the green-skinned man said

without 108

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

giving Captain James Kirk a chance

to respond to Mister Chekov, "we have a very strong

subspace wave in fifty seconds. With our

weakened shields, we will feel this blast more

intensely than we did the oth ers."

"Are we in danger, Mister Spock?"

Captain James Kirk asked.

"Are you referring to the shields, the

Klingons, the subspace wave, or all three,

Captain?"

"A simple yes or no would have done fine,

Spock," Dr. Leonard McCoy said.

"Doctor," the greenish

man[*thorngg'Spock? one

name only"...[*thorn)'sd, "in order to answer

an

inquiry precisely it is necessary

to understand[*thorn]"

"The shields and the wave, Spock," Captain

James Kirk snapped. "Yes or no?"

"Of course, Captain," Spock said. "A

wave of that intensity combined with lower shields

would[*thorn]"

"Shields at seventy percent," Mister

Chekov said, his voice holding an edge of worry

that even Prescott could hear. She thought it

ironic. Rescued from certain death only to be

killed with her rescuers in a war she didn't even

understand.

More blasts rocked the ship. It felt as if

Prescott's fingers had dug grooves into the odd

material of the rail.

"Spock." Captain James Kirk bounded up

the stairs, stopping just behind Prescott. "Is the

sub- space wave coming directly out of the debris

from the ninth planet?"

"Yes, Captain," Spock said as if they were

dis109

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

cussing lunch. "I suggest we ride with the wave

again to reduce the strain on our weakened shields."

They were operating on a level that was so far above

Prescott that she felt like a child around adults. The

height difference didn't help. They thought they could

ride out these waves of destruction, survive them with

minimal damage. That concept alone startled her to the

very core of her being. These waves had

destroyed her homeworld and every planet in her system.

How could this ship just ride them and escape damage?

What amazing power these aliens had.

Captain James Kirk nodded. His energy was

infectious. Prescott could feel it beside her like a

barely contained fusion reaction.

""Let's do this as we did it in the debris

field," Captain James Kirk said. "Mister

Spock, send the coordinates to Sulu's screen.

But before you lay in Spock's course, Sulu, I

want you to plot a course directly at the ninth

planet and

immediately engage at one-sixth impulse. Be

prepared to reverse course and follow Mister

Spock's directions on my mark."

"Aye, sir," Mister Sulu said.

Prescott had no idea what Captain

James Kirk was planning, but obviously the crew

did and they followed his directions without question. The

man was clearly a very powerful and

trusted leader.

Dr. Leonard McCoy just stood beside her,

shaking his head. He hadn't let go of the railing either.

She wondered if part of his impatience was due to his

position in the command center. He had said he

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

only wanted to make a quick stop here on the way

to sickbay where, he said, more wounded waited for him.

Was that the sidetrack?

She wasn't sure. She wasn't even sure

why these people sometimes used three names and sometimes used

only one. She wasn't sure about anything

anymore.

"Mister Chekov?" Captain James Kirk

asked. Prescott didn't understand the question.

Mister Chekov nodded. "The Klingons are

turning and following us."

Captain James Kirk smiled and sank

into his command chair. He gripped the arms as if they

were an extension of his own body.

"Fifteen seconds," Spock said.

"On my mark, Mister Sulu."

Mister Sulu nodded.

It seemed to Prescott that the entire alien

crew was holding its breath.

The seconds stretched.

Even she found herself holding her breath, and she

didn't know what they were doing. Or why.

Folle glanced at her, his eyes

wide. His fingers were cold beneath hers.

"Now, Mister Sulu," Captain James

Kirk said. "Reverse course."

"Five seconds," Spock said.

"Brace yourselves," Captain James Kirk

shouted.

On the screen the two enemy ships Dashed past

just as the ship was hit with a rocking, tumbling, crashing

sound. Prescott lost her grip on the rail

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

and tumbled back against the wall. The jolt shuddered

through her spine. She rolled with the force and came up

sitting in time to see Folle slam against the wall

beside her. He grunted audibly and then turned

blue.

Two of the crew were also tossed from their seats, and in

the back of Prescott's mind she wondered why, with

such advance technology, they didn't have something as

simple as seat belts.

Then the shaking and roaring stopped.

McCoy, who had managed to remain

standing, quickly moved over and began

examining Folle, all the while

muttering to himself about all this being stupid.

"Damage reports on decks four, five, and

seven," the large woman in the tiny red dress said

as she held her hand to her ear. Her voice seemed

level and almost calm.

"Shields are down to fifty percent, but they are

still holding," Mister Chekov said.

"All stop," Captain James Kirk

ordered.

Prescott felt the ship stop moving. It jerked

noticeably, and she frowned. She hadn't thought such

maneuvers were possible in space.

Captain James Kirk turned to Spock.

"Did our friends make it?"

Spock stared into his scope for a moment, then

spoke without looking up. "Both vessels have

sustained heavy damage. KerDaq's ship has the

most amount of damage. The second ship has no

power."

"And Kelly's ship?"

Spock again spoke without looking up. "The 112

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Farragut, possibly combined with that last wave,

has inflicted heavy damage on a third ship.

The remaining Klingon ship is moving to aid

the other ship. All hostilities have stopped.

Captain . . ."

Spock's voice trailed off as if he were

studying his scope harder than normal. Then he

continued, his voice level. "KerDaq's ship will

sustain a core breach in less than a minute."

Without understanding what the words meant, even

Prescott understood the implications of Spock's

words. The crew on KerDaq's ship

would soon die. And if she had understood

correctly, none of the other enemy ships could help

them.

She pushed herself upright. Even though she had never

seen KerDaq, even though she knew nothing about his

people, her heart went out to him. She had been in that

position just a few hours ago.

Captain James Kirk punched a button on

his chair without hesitation. "Transporter room.

I want emergency beam-out of all personnel on

the Klingon flagship. Security to transporter

room on the double."

"Klingons, too, Jim?" Dr. Leonard

McCoy asked. "Don't you think the ship's a

bit crowded already?"

"Trust me, Bones." Captain

James Kirk stood. Prescott had never seen

such a restless man. He glanced at Spock and then

grinned. Spock re- mained stoic, but raised a

single eyebrow. The movement had the same effect as

a smile.

Captain James Kirk laughed and turned

back to the screen. Prescott followed his gaze.

The two green vessels floated at odd

angles,

obviously dambleaac

Dean Wesiey Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

aged. Suddenly the one on the right seemed

to collapse in on itself Then it exploded in a bright

flash of orange and red.

"We got them all, sir," said a tinny

disembodied voice.

Captain James Kirk punched the comm

button again. "Good work. Escort Commander

KerDaq to the bridge. We have a few matters

to discuss."

"Aye, sir," the tinny voice said.

Captain James Kirk then turned to Dr.

Leonard McCoy and smiled. "Well,

Bones, did I end that fast enough for you"?"

Prescott glanced at McCoy.

McCoy snorted and kept working on Folle.

"It would have been better not happening at all."

"I agree," Captain James Kirk said.

Then the captain turned and focused on

Prescott where she leaned against the wall. "It

seems we have a few minutes now," he said.

Beside her Folle moaned and McCoy helped him

sit up.

Quickly, under his intense gaze, she

scrambled to her feet and stepped forward. "I am

Prescott, the leader of the group you

rescued."

Kirk stood and bowed slightly. His gaze

perused her, all of her, as if he were trying

to assess all the differences between them in a single

glance. "Captain James T. Kirk of the

U.s.s. Enterprise," he said. "Pleased to have

you aboard."

She was stunned at how nice he seemed.

After just fighting two enemy ships, he suddenly

seemed warm and friendly.

1 1 4

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Beside her McCoy stood. "She

claims to be responsible for the destruction of this

system."

"I heard her earlier, Bones," Captain

James Kirk said, the warmth in his voice like a

caress. Prescott put her hands behind her back.

This man was as dangerous as he was unpredictable.

And powerful. Very powerful.

"I simply don't believe it," he said.

She straightened her back, wishing for the first time in

her life that she was taller. "Believe it," she

said. "I destroyed the system. And if you give me

a chance, I'll tell you how."

"And why," Captain James Kirk asked,

"would you destroy your own system?"

"It was an accident." Her voice trembled and

she forced herself to keep it level.

Everyone in the ship's command center

stared at her.

And for the longest time no one said a word.

1 1 5

Chapter Sixteen

KIRK FELT HIMSELF FREEZE.

All the energy and excitement of the last few

moments faded as he realized not just what the frail

Tauteean woman had said, but what it

meant.

She believed she had destroyed her entire

race.

A shiver ran down his back. Whether or not she

was right, he had to listen to her.

Spock had swiveled in his chair and was staring at

her. Uhura took her hand away from her ear, her

wide brown eyes soft with

compassion. Sulu turned, mouth open. McCoy

took a step forward, reached for the

woman[*thorngg'Prescott[*thorngg'b

let his hand fall a few inches away from her.

The Tauteean on the floor was breathin g in deep

shuddery breaths. He put a hand on the wall, and

1 1 6

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

propelled himself upward, as if her words meant more

than his pain.

"Prescott," he said, his voice shadowy with

lack of oxygen.

"It's all right, Folle," she said, without even

turning around.

Kirk frowned. He had been so convinced that the

Klingons had caused this with a

superweapon[*thorn] and he still

wasn't willing to rule that possibility out. But the

possibility had diminished greatly, and he didn't

need Spock's gift with percentages to tell him just

how much.

But that didn't solve the problem from the other

side. The Klingons had accused him of using a

special weapon. He had thought it a cover for their

own behavior, but what if they were both wrong, and this

Prescott was right?

Kirk couldn't examine her evidence alone. He

needed the Klingons here as well.

"Captain James Kirk," she said. "I will

give you the answers you've been seeking."

He nodded, feeling a bit offbalance from the new

direction the conversation had gone.

"Before you tell me," he said, "there's someone

else who needs to hear this story. Let's wait

until he gets here."

As if on cue the door to the turbolift whisked

open and KerDaq emerged, flanked on both

sides by security men. Next to the Tauteeans,

KerDaq looked like a giant. He towered over

Kirk. Prescott only came to his beltline.

KerDaq brushed her aside as he strode across

the bridge, his gaze, fierce under his

abnormally pronounced brow ridges, only on

Kirk.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

Kirk held KerDaq's gaze. Klingons

bullied anyone weaker and they respected strength.

Kirk could play the game, better than KerDaq

would ever know.

"Why didn't you let us die in battle, like

warri- ors?" KerDaq demanded, his voice full

and angry. It rumbled through the bridge as if the

Enterprise were too small to hold a Klingon

presence.

Kirk noticed that Prescott stepped back,

shocked, and almost afraid at the appearance of the

huge, rough Klingon. Tauteean features were very

similar to human features. She had been staring at

Spock as if she had never seen anything like him. A

Klingon must have seemed like something out of a nightmare.

"Your death would have served no purpose," Kirk

said, keeping his voice loud and firm and strong. "I

would have loved to blow your ship from space, but this time I

can't claim credit for the explosion. The subspace

wave destroyed your ship, not the

Enterprise."

"I know that, Kirk." KerDaq moved one step

closer to Kirk. "You lured us into a trap."

KerDaq spat out the words.

Kirk resisted the urge to wipe the saliva from his

face. Instead Kirk laughed. The laugh sounded

forced and calculated to him, but KerDaq wouldn't know

the difference.

KerDaq glowered.

Kirk's laugh became real. He had never

induced that disgruntled an expression in a

Klingon before. "You may be right about that."

He pushed past KerDaq, brushing hard against

KerDaq's shoulder, 118

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

spinning the Klingon slightly around. Kirk knew

KerDaq wouldn't attack him, at least not at the

moment. Klingons were brutal and fearless warriors,

but they were also smart. KerDaq would listen.

He had no other choice.

"This is Prescott," Kirk said, stopping near

the small, thin woman, yet turning to face the

Klingon. "She is a member of the race that

inhabited this system."

"I do not care, Kirk. What has

happened is between you and me."

"No," Kirk said, glaring at KerDaq. "It

is not."

He put his hand on Prescott's shoulder and was

surprised to feel her flinch. Her bones were

fragile and his hand heavy. He hoped he hadn't

hurt her. Then she smiled at him, bravely, as

if she was trying to overcome fear.

"Kirk," KerDaq said.

Kirk held up his free hand for silence.

KerDaq remained quiet and for the first time Kirk was

thankful for a reasonable Klingon.

Then Kirk bent toward Prescott. "I want

Ker- Daq to hear what you have to say. Please,

tell us what you said earlier, and explain how it all

happened."

Prescott licked her thin lips. Her gaze

darted from Kirk to the Klingon to McCoy before

resting on Kirk again. She looked almost

frightened, as if she were in a situation her brain

couldn't completely fathom. Kirk couldn't even

imagine being in her shoes.

She took a deep breath, then glanced around at

Folle, who nodded. When she turned back

to Kirk, 1 1 9

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

she seemed stronger and there was a light in her

eyes.

"We had hoped to supply all our people with

unlimited power," she said. "Our experiment was

based on the largest moon of the ninth planet. It was

the first to break up."

"This means nothing," KerDaq said, almost spitting

on the floor in disgust.

"You are on my ship, KerDaq. You will listen

to Prescott."

KerDaq crossed his meaty arms over his

chest, but he said nothing more.

Spock, however, hadn't taken his gaze off

Prescott. He stood slowly and approached her,

as if she had said something that resonated for him.

"What type of energy experiments were you conducting?"

A slight tremble ran through Prescott. Kirk

could feel it underneath his palm. Spock made her

uncomfortable, but she gave no outward sign of it.

Instead she met his gaze like an equal. "We

created a fusion reaction in the center of the moon,

contained by a magnetic shield and the moon's

natural crust."

Spock glanced at Kirk and then back at

Prescott. Kirk knew exactly what he was

thinking. Such an idea had been tried

successfully in hundreds of systems throughout known

space. It would not have had the power to break apart the

moon, let alone the entire system.

KerDaq snorted in disgust and then said, "We

tried such things a thousand years ago and we did not

destroy our system."

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"Yes," Spock said, ignoring KerDaq.

"Fusion power is a tried and reliable power source

for many pre-warp cultures."

"Pre-warp?" Prescott's friend, Folle,

asked.

"It's a term for cultures at your level of

advancement," McCoy said. Then he raised his head

slightly, giving the Klingon a sideways glance,

of a kind that always made Kirk wary. "So you think,

Prescott, that your experiments had something to do with this

destruction."

She shook her head. "I don't think it, Dr.

Leonard McCoy. I know it."

"A runaway fusion reaction could not

cause this kind of destruction." KerDaq said.

"Any child knows that is not possible."

"Let her finish, KerDaq," Kirk snapped.

Prescott moved out from under Kirk's hand. She

moved into the center of the upper deck, as far from the

others as she could get. It was as if this subject was

so painful, she could not take in anyone else's

presence, anyone else's warmth.

Kirk let her move away. "Prescott,"

he said softly, carefully, unwilling to let the

moment pass. "A runaway fusion reaction might

have destroyed the moon, but nothing more. There was no

method that could have spread a fusion reaction through

space."

Prescott wrapped her arms around herself as if

she didn't hear him. Folle walked up behind her.

She stepped away from him. "Prescott," he said,

"we didn't do it. Just like I told you."

She shook her head.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

Spock's attention hadn't wavered from her. "The

destruction is, however, centered on the location of the

ninth planet. We rescued you from a base

inside the moon of the fifth planet. What were you

doing there?"

"Our base was the control central," Prescott

said. "The first energy was to be projected to our moon.

From there it would have been

distributed throughout the system."

"Projected?" Kirk repeated. Suddenly he

knew what had happened. He glanced at Spock,

who looked almost visibly shaken. Spock knew

too.

KerDaq took a step toward Prescott. "You

pros jected it?" Even KerDaq had guessed

what was coming next.

Kirk put up a hand for KerDaq to stop and he

did.

Prescott held her ground, even though her

eyes looked like those of a stunned deer. Color

rose in her cheeks. Folle stood behind her like a

pillar, giving her support.

Kirk swallowed. "What method," he asked

slowly, "were you planning to use to project the

energy?"

Prescott turned to Folle, who stepped

forward. Kirk knew instantly that it had been

Prescott who was behind the fusion power

idea. But it was Folle who championed the method

of transportation to get the energy to the inner

planets.

"A form of microwave transmission," he said.

He held his head high and there was no

evidence of shame in his posture. He still didn't

understand what had gone wrong. Nor did he accept

the blame. 122

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

What had he said a moment ago? Prescott,

we didn't do it. Just like I told you.

Just like I told you.

She had known all along and believed she had

caused the death of all her people.

Kirk felt a wave of compassion run through him,

despite all the destruction. She had lived for

weeks with the knowledge that she had destroyed her people, and everyone

around her had denied it. Denied it all.

"Microwave transmissions cannot carry or

con- tain the power you would have received from such a fusion

reaction," Spock said. "How did you solve the

problem of containment?"

Folle frowned as if something in the tone of

Spock's question bothered him. "We created a

feedback loop, using part of the power of the

beam itself to contain it."

KerDaq spit out, "Fools!"

Two dots of color appeared on Folle's

cheek, but if Kirk were to wager on the cause, he

would guess that Folle was angry at the

accusation, not at feeling as if he were the cause.

But Prescott's gaze met Kirk's. "I

know some- thing went wrong. What was it?"

"Spock," Kirk said, indicating that he should

exp lain.

"Your idea for energy was sound, but your delivery

system was flawed," Spock said. "A microwave

carrier beam is not a container. It is a strainer

filled with water. Instead of carrying the water from one

place to another, it runs out through the thousand holes that

compose the strainer. Or in your case, 123

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

your beam dripped power. It lost more power than it

carried."

Folle's frown deepened. But Prescott

looked vaguely relieved, as if knowing what had

gone wrong helped her somehow.

"And that caused the destruction?" she asked.

"By creating a feedback wave from the lost

power, you created a loop within the

containment field." Spock was still explaining. He

seemed to believe she needed the in-depth understanding as

well as the short answers. "The loop became far

more powerful than the energy it contained."

"We knew that would happen," Folle said. "We

had a method of draining the containment field at the

receiving end."

KerDaq snorted. "Such stupidity should be re-

warded with death."

"It has been," McCoy said softly.

Kirk shivered.

And for a moment the bridge was deadly silent.

Kirk was getting a clear picture of the problem.

It was nice to know the cause, but that wasn't enough.

The magnitude of the

destruction terrified him, and he still didn't

understand why it was increasing.

Spock ignored KerDaq and McCoy and went

on. "The containment field would never reach the

destination. It would instantaneously feed back down

into the power source itself the moment the beam was turned

on."

"Setting up a feedback loop inside a fusion

reaction," Kirk said.

TFIE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"In essence," Spock said, "melting a hole

through known space and into subspace."

"A hole that sends out destructive waves of

subspace interference," KerDaq said. "Waves that

destroyed my ship."

"A hole," Kirk said, "that we somehow have

to close."

Chapter Seventeen

THE EMERGENCY BACKUP SYSTEMS

had kicked in.

Captain Bogle liked the darkness. It

reinforced the sense of urgency, and his crew always

worked well when things were tough. He had diverted the

main power to the shields in the last skirmish with the

Klingons, but even that was failing.

The red-alert lights were blinking in the back-

ground, bathing the bridge in rotating red. The eerie

color made his officers look as if they were

bleeding, something that no one seemed to notice but him.

Bogle would have disconnected the red-alert lights

if he could have.

But he couldn't. It seemed they were as

essential to a starship as air.

On the screen before him the remaining

opera

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

tional Klingon ship hung silent and deadly,

its green looking sick and pale against the livid red

of the bridge.

"Our shields are at forty percent," Science

Officer Lee said. "Not enough to withstand the coming subspace

wave."

Bogle clenched his fists. The Klingons had

targeted his shields. They had recognised that

weakness and had gone for it. If he couldn't get more

power to the shields, the Klingons would succeed in

destroying the Farragut.

"How long do we have?" Bogle demanded.

"Two minutes," Lee said.

Bogle punched his intercom button to get his

chief of engineering. "Projeff, we need more power

to the shields."

"I've already diverted everything I can think of."

Bogle could tell from Pro's voice that he knew

the importance of the problem.

"Well, divert everything else.

Including the damn red-alert lights."

"Aye, sir." Bogle thought he heard a

chuckle in Projeff's voice. Pro knew how

much Bogle hated those lights.

"Good," Bogle said. "Boyle out."

Four members of his bridge crew were

attempting to divert power as well. Those shields

were crucial, especially since the wave strength was

increasing for reasons none of them could yet figure

out.

And, beneath it all, he was worried that the Klingons

would attack again just as the wave hit, when the

Farragut would be at her most vulnerable.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

Bogle swiveled his chair.

Lee was hunched over his science console,

monitoring everything. He didn't know what he'd do

without Lee.

"What's the status of the Enterprise?" Bogle

asked.

"They seem to have taken very little damage," Lee

said, shaking his head in disbelief.

Bogle shook his head, too. He

didn't know how Kirk managed it. If Bogle

were to lay odds, he would guess that Kirk would be the

only officer in the fleet to retire without losing a

ship. If he didn't get tossed out first for

breaking rules.

The red-alert lights shut off, leaving the bridge

in near darkness. Bogle blinked, grinning to himself.

Nice going, Proje

"Sir," Gustavus said, "the Enterprise is

hailing us."

"And sir," Lee said, "that Klingon ship off our

bow is powering up."

"Wonderful," Bogle said. Just as he had pre-

dicted. The Klingons would attack when the wave

hit. He hoped Pro repaired those shields in

time. "Put the Enterprise on screen."

The screen flickered and then an image filled

it. Bogle resisted the urge to rub his eyes. The

Klingon commander stood beside Kirk, looking as at

ease on the bridge of the Enterprise as her own

captain did. A tiny woman stood beside them. The

men dwarfed her and yet she seemed to belong in their

company.

"Captain," Kirk said, a slight smile

crossing his face. He knew what

impact he was having and it 128

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

was clear he was enjoying it. "I'd like to introduce

you to Commander KerDaq." Kirk

indicated the Klingon standing beside him on-screen.

KerDaq nodded, but said nothing.

Kirk's smile disappeared. Bogle saw the

determination in Kirk's eyes. Even though

Kirk gave the appearance of enjoying things, he

knew how serious the situation was.

For all of them.

"I understand you're having shield problems,"

Kirk said. "Mister Spock is sending a heading and

timing so that you will be able to run with the coming subspace

wave to reduce its impact."

"Understood," Bogle said.

"As do I," KerDaq said. "Now I must warn

my ships."

Kirk nodded. "Kirk out."

The screen went dark and then came back

with the picture of the Klingon battle cruiser off

their bow.

Bogle sat staring, not totally understanding what he'd

just seen. Kirk and the Klingons working together. And behind

them a woman had been standing silently.

An alien woman.

An obvious Tauteean survivor.

"I have the heading and coordinates," Lee said.

"We have fifty seconds."

"Transfer them to navigation and be ready

to initiate on the correct timing." Bogle

turned to Lee. "Mister, I want a double check

on those calculations within twenty seconds or

we're going to jump to warp to outrun the subspace

wave. I 129

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

won't take any chances with this crew and this ship."

"Working, sir," Lee said.

Fifty seconds to repair the shields and

to hold on. Bogle let out his breath. At least the

Klingon attack he had been expecting probably

wouldn't come. Not if KerDaq was on the

bridge of the Enterprise.

"They are correct, sir," Lee said, and he

actually sounded confident. Bogle couldn't see his

face in the dimness, and didn't know if Lee's

tone was a sign of true confidence or not.

"Explain," Bogle said.

"If we follow the course and speed

given to us by the Enterprise, the impact of the

subspace wave will be reduced by almost sixty

percent. With our shields at sixty percent, we will

sustain no damage."

"Understood," Bogle said. "Stand by."

"Captain," Rodriguez said. "Our shields

are now at seventy percent."

Bogle grinned to himself in the darkness of the bridge.

He knew those red-alert lights were wasted energy.

"Good work, Pro," he muttered.

"Follow the Enterprise instructions, Mister

Lee."

"Yes, sir," Lee said. "Mister

Rodriguez, I want you to go to one-fifth

impulse on my mark."

On the screen the Klingon ship was turning and

aiming itself in the same direction they were heading.

Bogle shook his head. How Kirk did it,

Bogle would never know.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"Now, Rodriguez!" Lee said. "Impact in

five seconds."

Bogle held on as his starship surfed a

destructive wave.

Off the port side of the Farragut a Klingon

battle cruiser did the same thing.

Chapter Eighteen

McCoally WAS STARTING to measure time

with the Enterprise's collisions with the shock waves.

After Prescott made her revelation, he had

left the bridge. He had arrived in sickbay when

the next shock wave hit. Then a complement of

crew members arrived, sporting minor bruises.

He had Nurse Chapel tend to them while he

mended the broken Tauteean bones, and

cleaned the gangrenous wounds.

Then the next shock wave hit. He didn't

really notice it, only its effects. He

treated all the minor bruises and had time to help the

Klingon doctor treat a seriously injured

Klingon who had been burned in the fight.

The only benefit he could see to the waves was that

the influx of battered crew members always 132

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

brought new information The Farragut and the Klingon

vessels made it through the waves; Captain Kirk

and the Klingon were working side by side; Mr. Spock,

in what seemed like

exasperation, asked that the Farragut's science

officer join them in an attempt to close the rift.

The ensign who had imparted the last bit of information

had seemed surprised that Spock would be

exasperated. McCoy, on the other hand, felt no

such surprise. He had known Spock for years, and

it had always seemed as if their relationship had been

based on

exasperation[*thorngg'on both sides.

The waves continued, but the crew was finally catching

on. During the last wave, only a few bruises

had arrived. Nurse Chapel could ha ndle them.

McCoy wanted to be on the bridge. He told

himself he wanted to contribute to the discussions, to see

if he could provide some solution to closing the

rift. But the truth was that he wanted to see

Prescott.

He arrived to find the bridge crowded.

Kirk, Scotty, and KerDaq circled the

science station behind Spock.

Uhura was monitoring communications, Sulu and

Chekov were conferring on ways to better "surf" the

wave, but Prescott was nowhere to be seen.

McCoy walked closer to the duster of people around the

science station. Prescott was seated beside

Spock, her tiny hands stretched over the console.

Another science officer, recognisable by his blue

uniform, sat on Spock's other side.

Appar133

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch entry the Farragut's science of

ficer[*thorngg'Lee, if McCoy

remembered his name

correctly[*thorngg'was a big redheaded

man who had a joviality that made Spock seem

positively morose.

It was very clear to McCoy that they had made no

headway at all.

McCoy stopped beside Kirk. The captain

moved aside for him, and McCoy stared down at

the computer screens, the scope, and the buttons that

marked the tools of Spock's trade. Prescott

glanced over her shoulder at him and smiled. It was

an absent smile[*thorngg'her mind was clearly

elsewhere[*thorn] but it warmed him all the same.

Spock looked up from his scope. "The

subspace waves are gaining in intensity, and the

rift is widening."

"How long do we have?" Kirk asked.

"Not long," Lee said. His voice was

deep. McCoy glanced at him in surprise.

Spock would never have been satisfied with such a

vague answer.

"I agree," Spock said. And then he gave the

correction McCoy had been expecting. "If we

do not find a solution within two hours and ten

minutes, no starship will be able to approach the rift.

We will be unable to close it."

Prescott leaned back. McCoy could feel the

warmth of her skin against his leg. "I don't understand.

There has to be a source for all this power causing the

waves. Can't we just shut down the source? Maybe

destroy it?"

KerDaq snorted and rolled his eyes. McCoy

never realized that the Klingons could be so expressive

without saying a single word.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

of the rift that Spock had called up earlier.

"We could easily work toward the center of the rift,

closing and[*thorn]"

"I have to concur with Commander KerDaq," Spock

said. "The moment the warp signatures expanded

to cover the tear in the universe, both ships would be

destroyed. We would, in

essence, be creating a feedback loop similar

to the original."

"At least the Vulcan has some sense,"

KerDaq said.

But the others ignored him. Prescott studied the

diagram of the rift as if it could expand her

scientific knowledge overnight. Lee and Scotty

looked at each other, their minds obviously

whirling. Then Scotty grabbed a chair and slid it

beside the engineering console.

"There has to be a way," he said.

"The doctor might have had the right meta- phor,"

Spock said. "But this is a wound caused by a burning

hole in space. It would seem to me that instead of

stitching the wound closed, we would need to cauterise

it."

"You don't cauterise burns, Spock,"

McCoy said.

"We are speaking in metaphors, Doctor,"

Spock said. "We would be closing the wound in the

same manner in which it was created."

McCoy was about to protest when he noticed the

others around him. Lee and Scotty were frowning,

deep in thought. KerDaq no longer looked so

disgruntled either.

"It might work," Lee said, softly.

"Aye, lad," Scotty said. "It just might."

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

McCoy shook his head. It was as if both men were

reading each other's mind.

"Would someone please explain the idea to me?"

Kirk said, moving around the rail and back down near

his chair.

"Captain," Spock said, "if we, along with the

Farrag"...lt and two of the Klingon vessels, were

to fire full phasers at the rift as a wave

began, we would set up a feedback loop between the

wave and the ships."

"Increasing the power of the wave," Scotty said.

"And turning the wave back on itself," Lee

finished.

Spock nodded. "Effectively closing the rift

in space."

"Electively, Mister Spock?" Kirk

asked.

"I don't think it matters how we do it,

Jim," McCoy said, not sure if he understood the

concept either, "just that the rift gets

closed."

"My ships will help with such a solution," Ker-

Daq said, his voice full and firm, as if the

decision was now made.

McCoy glanced at the Klingon. His arms were still

crossed over his chest, but he looked less threatening

suddenly, as if the solution had calmed something within

him.

"Captain," Spock said, swiveling on his

chair, and nearly knocking Prescott aside.

McCoy put a hand on her back to steady her.

"There is a problem."

"Of course," Kirk said, taking a deep

breath. "Isn't there always?"

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Rather like human teenagers.

Science Officer Lee shook his head as if he

couldn't believe her stupidity. Spock ignored

her.

But Scotty looked at her with compassion.

"There is a source, lass," he said. "The

universe is like a person's body. A

person[*thorn]" He glanced at KerDaq.

"[*thorngg'well, a human at any

rate, has a heart that is the main source of power

within the body. The universe has a heart, for lack

of a better word, an energy source that keeps the

universe running. Your fusion reaction tapped that

source of universal power. The problem you gave us,

though, is that there is now a hole between universes,

allowing the power of Universe A to spill over

into Universe B at an ever-increasing rate. We

just happen to be in Universe B."

The analogy wasn't as precise as Scotty

had thought it was, but it still set mental bells ringing

for McCoy. He had never pictured the universe

like a being, with a heart and lungs, and all. If he

tried to stretch the analogy, it failed. But when he

first pictured it, he got an image.

And an idea.

"Jim," McCoy said, stepping forward. "What

Scotty is saying, if I hear this right, is that this

hole in space is very much like a bleeding cut on a

human?"

"The analogy is, in fact, faulty,"

Spock said, "because a human does not bleed into

another[*thorn]"

"Give him a minute, Spock," Kirk said.

"You have an idea, Bones?"

McCoy nodded. He could feel the excitement

of a new[*thorngg'correct[*thorn)'.covery

welling within him. 135

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

"When a patient has a cut, you don't close

the entire thing at once. You work from the sides,

stopping the expansion and closing it slowly."

Spock tilted his head, and gazed at a spot

be- tween all of them. McCoy knew that look.

Spock was deep in thought.

"You close it from the ends," Scotty said.

"Not from the middle," Lee said almost

simultaneously.

"We could be[*thorn]"

"[*thorngg'farther away[*thorn]"

"[*thorngg'and still close[*thorn]"

"Gentlemen?" Kirk said, obviously hoping

to stop the cacophony. The two men were clearly

speaking the same language, but no one else could

understand the subtext. They had an idea and it seemed

to match.

"Captain," Scotty said, his dark eyes

alight with the beauty of his idea. "If we can get

close enough we could expand our warp shields

out over a corner of the rip."

"The Farragut could do the same," Lee said,

"on the other side, at the same time."

Spock tilted his head the other way, as if he

were picturing it all. Then his gaze met Kirk's.

"That would effectively let the covered area seal

itself," Spock said.

"And both ships would implode," KerDaq

said, from behind them, making McCoy jump. "I will

not participate in such a foolhardy mission with

Klingon ships."

Scotty leaned forward, put his hand on the

console, and touched the two-dimensional

image 136

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

McCoy almost laughed. Kirk was right. Solu-

tions never seemed to come easy with this crew. If the

time wasn't short, then the solution was impossible.

He couldn't begin to remember how many times this crew

had made the impossible happen.

Spock continued as if Kirk hadn't even

spoken. "The resulting closure of the rift will be

sudden. It will send out a final subspace wave of

approximately two hundred times the

destructive power we are currently

experiencing."

"That's not a problem, Mister Spock,"

Scotty said. "The ships can simply jump to warp

ahead of the wave."

Spock nodded. "Agreed, Mister Scott. The

ships can jump to safety." Spock folded his hands

together. McCoy noticed that Spock

always made that gesture when he was about to impart bad

news. "The problem I was referring to has nothing to do

with the starships. The resulting wave would pulverize the

rest of the large asteroids in this system. There is a

sixteen percent chance the wave would collapse the

Tauteean sun."

Suddenly McCoy understood Spock's point.

His stomach clamped tightly, almost painfully. He

could tell that Prescott didn't yet

understand. She was staring at Spock.

Kirk's face went white and he dropped down

into his chair. KerDaq frowned. Science Officer

Lee glanced at Spock.

"I don't see the problem," Lee said. "Will the

wave be powerful enough to destroy a

neighboring system? By my calculations, even a

wave of that 139

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine

Kathryn Rusch

intensity wouldn't have a destructive power be-

yond three light-years. And there are no systems

within that radius."

Spock shook his head. "That is correct.

Three point one light-years. Neighboring

systems will feel it, but it would not be strong enough

to cause damage at their distances."

Kirk sat staring ahead. McCoy knew he had

no choice, and he obviously knew it. Unless they

could come up wit h one more creative solution. The

probability of that, McCoy knew, was next

to nothing.

"Spock," McCoy asked, knowing the kind of

chain reaction he was going to cause in Prescott,

but knowing he had no way to stop it. He kept his hand

on her back, supporting her. Her body was like a

high-tension wire. Her subconscious knew what

this was about, even if her conscious brain didn't.

"How many Tauteean survivors did you estimate

to remain in those asteroids?"

"Thousands, Doctor."

"More survivors?" Prescott moved so fast that

her chair nearly fell over. McCoy caught it.

She was in the center of the bridge in a

heartbeat, confronting Kirk. "There are more

survivors?"

Kirk only nodded.

"They'll be killed."

"Yes, they will," Spock said. He was watching

her closely. McCoy took a step toward her,

then stopped. He could do nothing more. He had

to acknowledge the survivors, had to get the others

searching for a solution, but that was all he could do.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"Your people created this problem. Such stupidity

deserves death," KerDaq said.

Prescott spun and advanced on the Klingon.

She was half his height and one-quarter his weight, but

something in her eyes made the Klingon lean

backward.

McCoy stepped into her path and she

stopped. He was glad she did. He didn't

doubt she was much more powerful than she looked. She

shot a glare at the Klingon, then returned her

attention to Kirk.

"Captain," Prescott said. "You can't kill

the rest of my people."

"If he doesn't, lass," Scotty

said, "hundreds of billions more will die."

McCoy stared at Captain Kirk, who sat

staring at the main screen, not saying a word, faced

with a decision that wasn't really a decision.

Faced with the fact that he would have to order the last

few thousand survivors of a race to their death.

Chapter Nineteen

KIRK TURNED HIS BACK on his officers

and stared at the screen before him. The rings were still

expanding, grey and gold and white against the darkness of

space. Sometimes

beauty and destruction went hand in hand. That's what

made destruction so seductive, because it could be

beautiful.

Thousands and thousands of possible

survivors. Even if he had a full day, he

couldn't rescue them all. This was like those games that

philosophers played[*thorngg'if you had to lose

a friend to save a thousand unknown people, would you save the

friend? Or let him die? Those

philosophers never realized that

people[*thorngg'real people[*thorngg'had

to make these decisions all the time.

He had already made this decision once,

and it still haunted him. He always dreamed about Edith

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Keeler's face. In his dreams, he heard that

scream cut off, followed by the thud. He felt the

warmth of Bones in his arms, and saw the

muddy brown building behind them, smelled the

chemical stink of combustion engines in the air.

Let me go, Jim.

I could have saved her.

For the want of a nail, a shoe was lost. For the

want of a shoe, a horse was lost. For the . . .

He shook himself, realising that only seconds had

gone by when it felt like lifetimes.

A thousand lifetimes.

If he could go back and tell the boy from Iowa that

leadership meant sending people to their deaths, if he could

prevent that boy from succeeding at the Academy, from

rising in the ranks[*thorn]

He still wouldn't do it. Even though he had

inadvertently sent several people to their deaths over the

years as part of his role as captain, he would go through

it all again.

Even Edith.

Especially Edith.

Because someone else might have made the other choice.

The wrong choice.

She would have understood the need to block Hitler,

to let Kirk's history come to pass instead of hers.

She had been ahead of her time, Edith had, and that had

been her doom.

All the kindness, all the good intentions in the world,

couldn't change that.

She would understand this decision too, but she would rail

against it. She would ask if there was 143

Dean Wesley Smithristine Kathryn Rusch

some other way. And if there wasn't, she would say

that even making a small difference was better than

making no difference at all.

The bridge around him had grown deathly

quiet.

He turned around and stared at Spock. "How much

time do we have?"

"We must close the rift within the next one

hundred twenty-one minutes," Spock said.

A small difference. . .

Kirk felt as if the decision were being made for

him. He turned to the Farragut science officer,

Richard Lee. "Have you informed

Captain Bogle?"

. . . was better. . .

Lee nodded. "Yes, sir. He is waiting for

your decision."

Kirk felt a surprised chuckle escape his

lips. Smart man, that Bogle. Since the

solution had been worked out on the Enterprise

bridge, Bogle was not going to second-guess

Kirk. But that left the decision about the survivors

on Kirk's shoulders. And Bogle would take no

responsibility.

. . . than no difference at all.

And there really wasn't a decision to make. But

there had to be another way.

"Spock," he said, "can we slow down the growth

of the rift long enough to get more ships here?"

"Negative, Captain."

"How about getting us a few more hours, long enough

to rescue as many survivors as we can fit on both

ships?"

"Captain," Spock said, using that tone. Kirk

hated that tone. The tone that implied he didn't

get it.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

The problem was, he didn't. Not

really. Why did the universe keep giving him these

impossible choices?

"If we fire randomly into the rift," Spock

was saying, "we would make matters worse. Instead

of creating our own feedback loop, we would augment

the existing loop and increase the size of the subspace

waves. The only way we can close the rift is

to fire an exactly timed burst of energy at the

moment a wave emerges. We will still get one more

wave, the destructive wave we've been

discussing."

No choice. He had no choice at all.

Prescott pushed her way past Bones. Her

tiny features contained a mountain of emotion. She

made the Klingon look tame. "Captain, you can't

let the rest of my people die."

He opened his mouth, closed it again. She didn't

understand. It was too theoretical for her. She

didn't know that other peoples existed in the

universe until a few hours ago. She couldn't

make the leap[*thorngg'no one could make the

leap[*thorngg'f the thousand people she knew to the

billions she didn't.

He knew that from vast, painful personal

experience.

"I have to," he said, even though he knew

convincing her was impossible. Her face would haunt

him, her pleading, along with Edith's scream.

A small difference . . .

The idea he had been groping for hit him.

He leapt out of his chair, and moved quickly to

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

the rail, energizedag. "But with your help we can

save a large number of your people."

"You're crazy, Kirk," KerDaq said.

"How?" McCoy asked, his face lighting up.

Kirk turned to Spock. "We have two hours?

Correct?"

"One hour and fifty-eight minutes," Spock

said.

Kirk nodded, not caring about the missing two

minutes. "With your help, Prescott, and with the help

of the rest of your people on board, we should be able

to pinpoint the most likely places for survivors.

Moon bases, sealed bases, spaceports. We

have two ships. We can cram a large number of people

in here if we have to." He smiled at

Prescott. "At least enough to give your

race a fighting chance to start over in another

system."

Prescott's mouth opened. For a moment, he

didn't think she would accept the proposal. Then

she staggered slightly forward as stunned by his words.

"A chance is all we need,

Captain."

"We have three ships," KerDaq said. "And a

fourth will be operational within the hour."

Kirk felt his own eyebrows rise. He

couldn't trust this, any more than KerDaq could trust

him. Kirk moved over and stopped in front of the

Klingon. Kirk said nothing, just stared at him.

After a moment KerDaq laughed. "We have to watch

you," he said. "In case you pick up your

superweapon. If we happen to pick up a few

survivors in the process, so much the better."

Kirk laughed with him. "It seems Starfleet will

allow us to help survivors destroyed by your

superweapon."

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

KerDaq nodded, still half laughing. Then his eyes

froze on Kirk. "No tricks, Kirk."

"No tricks. Have my science officer

explain how to surf those subspace waves

to reduce damage to your ships. We can't have one of

your ships being destroyed by an asteroid. We need

all four ships to close the rift."

KerDaq grunted. "We need no explanation.

You just be sure to survive."

"Deal," Kirk said.

Kirk turned to Prescott as KerDaq headed

for the lift with Science Officer Lee. "We need

locations fast."

Prescott, her eyes alive, her face

beaming, jumped to Spock's side and began giving

him directions.

Chapter Twenty

THE BRIDGE OF THE Farragut was still dark.

Projeff hadn't gotten all the systems back

on line. But the shields were operating at ninety

percent of maximum capacity.

For what good that would do them.

Bogle sat in his command chair, his fingers tapping

on the arm, thinking back to the days when both he and

Kirk had served on this very ship. Somehow, mostly

due to Kirk's brashness and ability to bend rules

without breaking them all the way, he had been

promoted. Bogle didn't totally understand how or

why it had worked that way, but it had.

In those early days on the Farragut, they really

hadn't been that close of friends. They'd played

poker a lot together, but not much else. As officers

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

they had come aboard at the same time,

starting their careers as equals. But it hadn't

remained that way. It had bothered Bogle for years

that Kirk had been promoted to captain ahead of

him. In fact, Kirk had become the youngest

Starfleet officer ever to be promoted to that rank.

And no matter how much Bogle tried to put that

fact away, he had always held that against Kirk.

And he most likely always would.

Now, here he was, captain of the Farragut,

Kirk's old ship. And what was he doing? He was

letting decisions be made by Kirk, of all people.

Sitting here, now, Bogle felt that by deferring

to Kirk regarding what to do with the

Tauteeans he was putting himself and his career at a

personal risk.

Kirk wasn't going to set back Bogle's

career. He would make sure of that.

His science officer, Richard Lee, hadn't been

back two minutes before Bogle realized what

Kirk had set them all up for.

"We're supposed to do what?" Bogle asked.

Lee was standing beside him, a flush on his light

skin. He obviously had agreed with the decision and

he had known what his captain's reaction would be.

The other members of the bridge crew watched in

wonder.

"We're going to rescue as many survivors as

possible in the next one hour and forty-eight

minutes," Lee repeated. "Then we close the

rift and get out of here."

Bogle closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

The edge of the seat felt hard. He had just had his

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

chair recushioned and it still felt hard. "Has

Kirk ever heard of the Prime Directive?"

"It came under consideration," Lee said cau-

tiously.

"That's good to hear," Bogle said, unable to keep

the sarcasm out of his voice. He should have expected

this. That was what kept running through his mind.

He should have expected Kirk to throw all the rules

out the window.

The thing of it was, Bogle's heart agreed with

him. It was Bogle's mind[*thorngg'and his

dedication to Starfleet[*thorngg't was having the

trouble. The Prime Directive should be the most

important rule the Federation had. It should be much,

much stronger than Kirk and the others treated it. But

at the moment that was only his opinion. Starfleet

seemed to take a much more relaxed attitude toward

it.

"Get me Kirk," Bogle said. He gave

Lee a hard stare and then turned his back on his

science of ficer.

"Aye, sir," Gustavson replied quickly.

Then after just a moment she said, "On screen, sir."

Bogle stood and stepped toward the screen as the

flushed face of Kirk appeared. Before Kirk could

even say a word, Bogle said, "The Prime

Directive won't let you do this, Captain."

Kirk had started to smile and suddenly the smile

was gone. "What are you saying, Kelly?"

Kirk was trying to pull friendship now and all that

did was make Bogle even angrier. This wasn't

a matter for friendship, as if they were ever

friends. i50

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Kirk might treat his crew like a bunch of friends,

but Bogle believed in maintaining discipline and

following the rules. And right now one of those rules was

being broken[*thorngg'in his opinion.

"Captain," Bogle said, forcing his voice to re-

main clear and level. "It is clearly against the

intent of the Prime Directive to rescue any more

of these survivors."

Kirk took a deep breath and squared his

shoulders. "They sent out a distress signal. We

responded and will continue to respond."

"And so you intend to use that to get around the Prime

Directive?"

Kirk frowned at Bogle. "I plan on using

whatever means I can to rescue as many lives as I

can."

Bogle stared at Kirk. Until that moment he

hadn't realized just how much he hated Kirk for

moving ahead of him so fast. But he couldn't let the

hate get in the way of doing his job. And Kirk

did have a point. The Tauteeans had sent out a

distress call. It was a clear way of getting around

the Prime Directive, at least the way

it was being interpreted at the moment by

Starfteet and James Kirk.

But he couldn't let his opinion of how the Prime

Directive should be followed go so easily.

Inside he knew he would help with the rescue, but

he also knew it was against the true focus of the

Prime Directive.

"You may be court-martialed," Bogle said.

"Didn't you hear a word I said? This is against the

intent of our number-one rule. Neither one of our

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

ships should rescue any more survivors. They

destroyed themselves and that is the natural way of things

for some races."

Kirk snorted and his face got red. He

stepped closer to the screen. "Listen to me,

Captain Bogle. I may very well be

court-martialed. But I have over an hour to rescue

survivors and I'm going to pull every one I can out of

those rocks. If I pay the price, fine. At

least I'll be able to sleep at night."

Bogle nodded. It was time to let the argument

re/gg*thorngg'until a later time.

"All right, Captain. You win . . . this time. We

will do our best to help."

Kirk looked as if he was about to say

something more, then realised what Bogle had said and

nodded. "Good. Kirk out."

The screen went blank and then quickly came back

up. The destruction of the Tauteean

system spread out before Bogle. Three Klingon

battle cruisers now grouped near the Enterprise.

Bogle turned slowly and sat down. The silence

on the bridge was almost stifling. Kirk was going to go

ahead and attempt a rescue and there was nothing

Bogle was going to be able to do to stop him. So he

might as well join him. As Kirk had said, they

had asked for help. It was all the loophole he

needed.

Then when they were done, they would close the rift and

head for Starbase l like. And there he would begin work

to make sure the letter of the Prime Directive was

followed in the future.

And if Captain Kirk broke it again, he would

be the youngest captain ever to lose his post.

Chapter Twenty-one

KIRK TURNED FROM the screen and

clenched his fists. Bogle had always been a

stickler for rules. Always.

Bogle of all people should have known that rules weren't

the answer to everything.

Sometimes they made the problem worse.

Like in this case.

The Prime Directive no longer applied.

The culture no longer existed.

Of all the damn shortsighted egotistical times

to have a philosophical discussion.

Kirk swung around and sat down. Around

him the other crew members pretended that whatever was

going on at their station required their full and immediate

attention. Even

Prescott had the com1s3

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

mon sense to remain quiet as she stood near the

science station.

"Captain," Spock said, breaking into the deadly

silence of the bridge as he stepped down to his

accustomed place beside Kirk. "Captain Bogle

is right. Our rescue mission is in direct

conflict with the intent of the Prime Directive."

Kirk's fists became so tight that the

skin on the back of his fingers pulled. Spock

knew better. This argument was wrong.

On the main screen the scene of complete de-

struction spread out in front of Kirk.

"Spock," he said, pointing at the screen. "You

don't really believe any Tauteeans could

survive after the rift is closed."

""There is no chance, sir, that their civilisation

will continue here. But that has no bearing on the Prime

Directive. This race caused its own

destruction. The Prime Directive expressly

forbids us from rescuing a race that destroys itself. The

theory is that such a race could never become

civilised."

"I know the theory, Spock." Kirk just didn't

like it. He didn't like it at all.

"Not civilised?" Prescott asked. Her

voice car- ried over the entire bridge. Kirk

did not turn to face her. He couldn't look at

her at the

moment. "Who are you to judge whether or not we are

civilised?"

"I was merely stating the main directive that we

operate under, madam," Spock said,

sounding like a polite schoolboy. "The

Prime Directive forbids us from interfering with a

culture that has not reached a certain level of

technical sophistication. 154

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

We are even forbidden from preventing such a race from

destroying itself."

"Why?" she demanded. "To keep the

population down in the universe? So that you people can

control more of it?"

"No," Spock said. "It is not that simple.

It[*thorn]"

"Every race," Kirk said, staring at the growing rings

on the screen, "that has joined the Federation went through

a self-destructive period. My people did so in the

twentieth century, and nearly destroyed themselves

hundreds of times. We survived it, on our

own, and gained wisdom in doing so. Without that

wisdom, we would not be here."

Staring at that[*thorngg'the destruction

Prescott and her theories caused.

She was suddenly beside him. He could feel a stir

of wind caused by her arrival. She leaned over the

arm of his captain's chair, and he finally understood

how she had forced a

Klingon to back down. "You would let the

rest of my people die and doom my race simply

because of a rule?"

Kirk's mouth was dry. He couldn't answer her.

But Spock could. "The Prime Directive

leaves us no choice, at least as we understand this

situation at the moment."

Kirk broke his gaze away from Prescott and

frowned at Spock. Even Spock disliked this.

Spock was trying to give him an out, in his own

Spock-like fashion.

"However, Captain," Spock said, "I would

rec- ommend that we not follow the Prime

Directive."

"What?" Kirk asked, actually surprised.

Spock nodded. "In this instance, the Tauteeans

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

did send us a distress signal. They did ask

for our help."

"I understand," Kirk said. It was technically a

legal way to get those survivors. But it wasn't

really enough.

"Captain, I[*thorn]" Prescott

snapped, but Kirk help up his hand and

stopped her from saying any more. He didn't need her

badgering him at thi s moment. He had to think. He

got out of his chair and approached the screen. The

debris field's slowly forming rings were stupendous in

size, and in the amount of destruction it took to form

them. In just over an hour and a half the Enterprise,

the Farragut, and two of the Klingon ships would

close the subspace rift caused by these Tauteean

people. And in so closing the rift would send out one more

huge, destructive wave that would completely wipe

out any

chance of the Tauteean people's rebuilding or rescuing

themselves.

But by rescuing the Tauteean survivors, he was

not only technically violating the Prime

Directive, but putting every man, woman, and child in

the Federation at risk. If something happened to the

Enterprise during such a rescue operation, there

wouldn't be enough firepower in the remaining ships to close

the rift in time.

No matter how Kirk looked at it, Bogle

was right. Rescuing more survivors was wrong. But why

did he have to be the one actually killing them by closing

the rift?

Then he heard himself say that out loud.

"I'm killing them."

He turned around and faced Spock, who had

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

moved back up to the science station. "Spock,

by closing the rift, we are actually killing the

remaining survivors. Right?"

"That is correct, Captain," Spock said.

"They would not survive such a wave."

"So follow me on this," Kirk said. "We are

not allowed by regulation to kill other races. That's

genocide, Spock. Earth outlawed genocide in the

Geneva Conventions of the twentieth

century. Genocide is something so hideous, so

unthinkable that every member of the

Federation outlawed it centuries ago."

He could feel the excitement starting to return.

He knew he'd found the solution, the justification

he could live with. He didn't know if it would hold

up at a court-martial, but it would hold up in his

own mind.

Spock frowned, clearly thinking. "If we do not

close the rift, the Tauteean survivors will

eventually die over the next five days," Spock

said, "as the subspace waves increase in

intensity."

"We must close the rift to save the lives of the

rest of this quadrant," Kirk said. "But our

actions, without a rescue operation, will kill the

Tauteean race."

"That is correct, Captain," Spock said.

"Therefore our actions would be killing the

Tauteeans, not their actions."

Spock raised an eyebrow and tempted his

fingers. "Technically we would be killing them," he

said.

"It would therefore seem logical that we must

rescue as many Tauteean survivors as

possible," Kirk said, letting his voice rise in

triumph.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

"Actually, Captain, it makes no difference

if our actions kill them or theirs do. The results

are the same. They will die[*thorn]"

"But it does make a difference, Spock."

Kirk was leaning forward. He could feel the

excitement course through him. This was right. He

knew it. "If with their own actions, they

destroy themselves, the Prime Directive

applies. If our actions destroy them, we have a

duty[*thorngg'a legal

responsibility[*thorn)'ffmake certain they are

provided for."

"He is right, Mister Spock," Sulu said from

his console. "We have a duty."

"Technically, Mister Sulu, he is

correct. But legal technicalities are often

twists of a phrase, small games made to keep

scholars happy...."

"Am I to understand, then, Mister Spock, that you do

not want to rescue the survivors?" Kirk asked.

Spock tilted his head back, then rested his

folded hands across his stomach. "Captain, all

life is precious."

Kirk grinned. He turned to Prescott, whose

face held a mixture of anger and puzzlement.

"Can you give Mister Spock possible locations of

survivors?"

She almost beamed, she was smiling so hard. "I

most certainly can," she said.

Kirk turned and sat down again. "Mister

Sulu, lay in a course to the first location given to you

by Mister Spock. We have survivors

to fmd in a very short time."

"Yes, sir," Sulu said.

"And send Captain Bogle alternate

locations," Kirk said. He'd played poker with

Kelly Bogle 158

TEIE RINGS OF TAUTEE

before. He knew that underneath that rough, bythe-book

exterior lay a huge heart. Captain Bogle

would do his best to help, now that he had decided to go

along.

Kirk dropped back into his command chair. "And

Mister Spock. . . relay the outcome of the

discussion we just had to Captain Bogle and

Starfleet. We may as well cover ourselves."

"Yes, sir," Spock said.

In front of him was a screen full of a

destroyed system. They were going back in there

to find survivors and the decision felt right.

"Ready when you are," he said.

Chapter Twenty-two

IT FELT LIKE DROWNING, only there was

no water around her. Ergi lay on her back on

the cool rock. The air had a thick feeling to it,

stuffy. Breathing was hard. It felt better

to take small breaths than large ones.

Sleeping would feel good too.

But she knew if she slept she would die.

Around her lay her family[*thorngg'her mother,

her daughter, and her mate[*thorngg'z well as

their friends and colleagues. Some had passed out against

dark rock. Others had fallen asleep normally,

their chests still rising and falling, but the breaths

obviously shallow.

She sat, her arms wrapped around her knees, and

watched them, guarding the only light that still 160

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

worked. She wasn't sure if they would die first

or if the light's reserve power would fail.

It had seemed like such a good idea a week ago.

They had seen the destruction of the ninth planet. The

waves rippled out from it, and she had projected,

using the figures she could get from the government and her

own calculations, that her planet, the sixth, would

suffer the same effect.

Unless she found a way to survive.

Chunks of the ninth planet had floated off. People

who were underground would survive until rescue teams

found them. That's what she told her mate. He had

told others, and they had crowded into the Er

Mineral Mine near their home. They had stored

food and other supplies, and sealed the entrance,

thinking a week's worth of air would be enough.

It wasn't.

She hadn't believed, hadn't counted on the

fact, that this crisis was bigger than her people. Even as

her family crawled into the mine shaft, she believed

that the scientists would find a way to solve the

crisis.

A week, tops.

But a week hadn't been long enough. And one of the

men, who had brought a portable computer with him,

reported that the other planets and moons were going as

well.

She knew what that meant Even if they

found a solution, it might be months, years before

anyone found her.

And she simply hadn't prepared for that.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

She put her hand on her daughter's head and

smoothed back her hair. The girl's skin was

clammy. Her lips were blue. She would be dead

soon, and it was probably a merciful thing.

Then[*thorn)'suddenly tilde the entire room

glowed.

Ergi rubbed her eyes, but froze in

midmovement.

No one had told her that when all the oxygen

disappeared, she would see multicolored lights.

But she did.

What a beautiful way to die.

Tijer stood at the window, staring out into space.

He had been here for nearly a week now, his stomach

twisting as he watched Space

Station Alpha spin away from its own system. The

planets were gone now, forming rings

around the sun. The waves continued, but

somehow the station held together. When he wasn't in the

medical unit, he was here, in the corridor, staring

out the windows at the

destruction beyond.

He thought he would never feel terror again after that

day the seventh planet exploded, hurling the space

station out of its orbit and into deep space. He had

managed to keep busy through much of it[*thorn)'s

many injuries to attend to, so much sudden

nausea[*thorngg't he wasn't able to watch the

spin, and he was glad of that.

By the time it ended, and he realized that he had

lived, he had thought the terror would fade.

But it didn't. It existed beneath his placid

surface like a tumor, growing and feeding on his

system. The station's one hundred and fifty crew

members 162

Ti1Every RINGS OF TAUTEE

were alone in space. No one would rescue

them. No one could.

Isi, their botanist, believed that she would be able

to grow enough food for them, using

recycled wastes. Their food supplies were

vast. They had just begun their mission on the

station when the destruction happened.

Tijer worried about the waves. They seemed to be

growing stronger, and Buk, the engineer, had mentioned that

if a wave caught them

wrong it would torque the entire station, shattering it

in a single blow.

Instant death.

Tijer squinted at the darkness. The sun's light

seemed dimmer, but something was reflecting. A new

rock, hurtling toward them. Another threat. Larger

rocks could shatter the protective shield.

Then he frowned. That wasn't a rock.

A rock never had such a straight trajectory.

He was watching a ship.

He pressed his face against the cool triple

pane. He didn't remember any ship design

like that. Tauteean ships were oblong, not round. And they

certainly didn't have odd tail sections.

He backed away and shook his head. He was

hallucinating.

The terror had gotten too much for him.

He hurried down the corridor and reached the

medical unit in time to see all his patients turn

into multicolored light. He blinked, trying

to clear his eyes, but his patients were fading.

He held up an arm. It wasn't solid

anymore. 163

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

He was fading too.

A ship? he wondered as his body evaporated.

Someone else's ship? Could the stories he'd read

as a boy have been right?

Could some one else have been out there after all?

The bubble seal was cracked. Brug stood below it,

wearing an oxygen mask. His

companion, Docr, was putting a

sealant on the bubble, but that was only temporary.

A few more of those waves, and the bubble colony would

collapse the way the moon had days

before.

Two hundred people would die. Finally. They would

die as everyone else had.

They had thought they had been lucky. They had thought

that, since the moon split up and their bubble colony

had survived on a tiny chunk of asteroid, their

trials were over. But the trials were only beginning.

Brug hadn't counted on the waves continuing.

And getting worse.

This section of the colony was sealed off, pro-

tected since the bubble overhead was cracked. The

crack would spread along the dome until it reached

the inhabited areas. Then there would be nothing to hold in

the atmosphere. Their oxygen helmets would only

last a day or two.

"What's that?" Docr said, her voice sounding

tinny in the helmet's microphone. She was pointing

a gloved hand at a grey speck.

"Dirt?" Brug asked. He wasn't sure

if going through all this work was worth it. Especially

since they were going to die shortly anyway.

164

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"No," she said. "It's growing."

He glanced again. He could have sworn, a moment

ago, that the grey thing had been the size of a speck.

Now it was the size of Docr's finger.

"I don't know," he said, suddenly interested.

"Brug," another voice said through his

intercom. "You're not going to believe this."

"Try me," Brug said, squinting through the crack

at the growing grey creature.

"I think a ship is heading toward this asteroid."

"I think you're wrong," Brug said. "We

don't have grey ships."

"I know."

Docr looked at him. He glanced at her.

Her eyes were wide. "That's impossible."

He nodded. "Mass hallucination. It was only

a matter of time."

"True enough," she said, "but none of us have gone

crazy yet. Control," she said to Operations, "do you

have stats on that thing?"

"It's big," Control said. Brug couldn't

identify the voice. "And it seems to be moving at

an impossible speed. I think that[*thorn]"

Control's voice stopped. It didn't

get cut off, it didn't fade. It just stopped.

"Control?" Docr said. "Control? Someone?

Pick up?"

There was no static on the line. The line was still

open. Brug turned his dial, tried to bring in

Mess, then Living. Nothing. Open lines but no

voices.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"I don't know," Docr said. Then she looked

up. The grey creature was over their dome, larger

than 165

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

the asteroid, longer than anything Brug had ever

seen before.

Brug heard a faint buzzing. He turned

to see Docr fade into bits of light. He faded

as well, only to reappear in a room filled with

tall monsters.

"I can't believe things could get worse," he

said to himself, and fainted.

Chapter Twenty-three

THIS TIME, the noise was deafening. Voices

talking, crying, and laughing. Some yelling in

recognition. McCoy fought the urge to put his hands

over his ears as he moved through the corridors.

Or over his nose. The smell was

overwhelming. Nearly a thousand refugees, most

of whom had not bathed since the disaster began, were shoved

like cattle into the

hallways, dining areas, and cargo bays of the

Enterprise.

All the living quarters were filled, all the

lounge areas, and all the maintenance closets.

McCoy got the sense of hundreds of frail

filthy people with little more strength than it took to moan at

him each time he touched one of them.

They were all bruised, all exhausted, and all

terrified. A few seemed to think they had died and

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

gone to the Tautee version of hell. McCoy

couldn't say as he blamed them. He was

beginning to wonder the same thing himself.

He had started out in sickbay, but emergency after

emergency brought him deeper into the ship. He was

lucky he'd been trained in field medicine or

he would have been as

overwhelmed as his nose and ears.

First rule of field medicine Treat the most

seriously injured.

Second rule Don't attempt miracles.

Third rule Attempt miracles.

And so on.

Mostly he had been working with crushed bones and

collapsed lungs. These Tauteeans were so

fragile, and so many of them had

survived on very little oxygen. If he had had an

entire field team, he would have been able to keep

all the survivors alive. Now he would be lucky

if he only lost a few.

McCoy found himself in the shuttle bay. The

trip there had been a succession of pink and bluish

blood, broken femurs and tibias, and shattered

ball-and-socket joints. He only knew he was

in the shuttle bay because of the shuttles parked on their

spots, doors open to reveal even more Tauteeans

inside.

The Tauteean he was working on was Iying on one of

Scotty's cabinets. It had once been

spotless. Now it was covered with dirt and smudges from

a hundred filthy fingers.

The Tauteean was male, young as

Tauteeans went, and in a lot of pain. A gash

ran across his forehead, just over his eyebrows, and when

McCoy 168

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

first bent over him, he had seen a bit of

greyish brain matter.

A quick medical scan showed the gash to be

superficial and the brain uninjured, and the man's

vital signs were strong.

Rule Four Save the minor wounds for later.

"He'll live," McCoy said to the Tauteean

assistant named Nutri whom he had drafted

to assist him. Nutri seemed to have some medical knowledge and

had dug right in and helped. Nurse Chapel had also

taken an assistant and was also checking patients.

Anyone on the Enterprise with even a slight bit

of medical knowledge had been drafted to do the same.

At least two Tauteean doctors were among the

survivors. McCoy had given them a minute

lesson on how to read a medical tricorder, how

to close a skin wound, and how to mend a

broken bone. Then he sent them deep into the

bowels of the ship. He expected they'd make a

number of mistakes, but it was better than nothing for

most of these people.

McCoy stepped over a Tauteean with a black-

and-blue eye who claimed nothing else was wrong, and

bent over the next patient. This one was a young

girl, who was half the size of Prescott. A child

then. She was unconscious. McCoy scanned her

and found that one leg had been crushed. Finesse

surgery, which he just didn't have time for at the moment.

He could do the major repairs now and save the

minor ones for later. If he had had more time, he

would have done it all at once. Instead he would have to go

back in, cause her extra pain, in order

to save her leg and her life.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

He would be working on these people until he died.

Eighty years from now.

To make matters worse, the ship shook every five

minutes. He kept losing track of the time, and so it

seemed that each time he was about to do something delicate,

the ship hit one of those waves.

For a while survivors poured in. As he

mended that bone, and inflated this lung, he heard

stories that made him marvel at the ingenuity of the

Tautee people.

And made his hair curl.

He had survived some terrifying things in his day,

but nothing like what these people had gone through.

Over five hundred Tauteeans on the fifth

planet[*thorngg'the original source of the

Tautee

people[*thorn] had gone below ground

into ancient bunkers built for some war fought and won

centuries before. They survived on dried food

stored for people long dead, and were

attempting to repair the aircirculation systems

when the Enterprise found them. A few of those

survivors had lost family to botulism and other

diseases McCoy had thought completely

eradicated.

Fifty Tauteeans on a moon of the ninth

planet, near the source of the destruction, saw the

readings on their computers, guessed

something awful was going to happen, and took a

spaceship away from the planet. They

accidentally surfed the first wave, and managed

to float, helpless, in space until the

Enterprise spotted them. Many of the collapsedlung

cases came from there. McCoy also suspected

170

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

he had one case of reversible brain damage from

that ship.

Another hundred had holed up in a sealed

laboratory on the moon of the third planet. They

continued with their daily business as if nothing were

wrong, and were, in McCoy's

opinion, his toughest patients. They didn't

want to believe he existed, didn't want his

help, and wanted to return to their work. He had never

seen so many cases of mass denial in his entire

life.

Now the problem was where to put all the people. The cargo

bays were full, the shuttle bays, including the

shuttles, were jammed.

McCoy had sent the less injured, the ones who

didn't need to lie down, out into the corridors

to sit along the walls. But even the corridors were

filling up.

"Dr. McCoy?" Captain Kirk's voice

barely broke through the noise of the crowded shuttle

bay.

McCoy glanced at the girl with the crushed leg.

She would have to wait a moment. He

moved toward the comm unit on the

bulkhead, indicating that his assistant should stay beside

the girl.

"Go ahead," McCoy said, tapping the intercom

line open.

"Bones," Kirk said. "We are beaming another

two hundred aboard."

"Damned if I know where we're going to put

them," Bones said. And he didn't. There just

didn't seem to be much room left.

"Doesn't matter," Kirk said. "Put them in

the crew's quarters. My cabin will hold a dozen

or so."

"Your cabin's full."

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

"It is?" Kirk seemed shocked. "Well, just

find room. We're running out of time. Kirk out."

"Find room, find room, as if I'm in charge

of housekeeping. What does he think I'm doing

down here? Napping?" McCoy gingerly made

his way back to the injured girl. His assistant

was running a tricorder over her.

"She's oxygen-starved," Nutri said. "I think

that's why she's unconscious."

The ship suddenly began to shake and rock, and the

moans and panicked voices filling the shuttle

bay increased. McCoy leaned against the bulkhead for

support, and closed his eyes, not wanting to see more

bones get broken, more Tauteeans get injured.

Even after an hour of these shakes, every one scared

him. Every time he could imagine the Enterprise being

tossed against a huge asteroid.

He had a vivid imagination at times. Too

vivid.

When the shaking finally passed, he leaned over the

girl. Nutri shook her head. "I don't think

she's going to make it," Nutri said.

McCoy did a quick scan. The girl's signs

were weak, but she was in no danger. And she had been

without oxygen for a while, but not long enough to do any

damage. She was unconscious because of the pain. And a

good thing too. He wouldn't want to stay awake with that

kind of injury.

McCoy made a rough splint to keep the leg

straight, made certain it was clean and no bones had

pierced the skin. Then he glanced at his assistant.

"Find two people to carry this girl into the cargo bay.

I'll fix her leg there later."

172

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Nutri nodded and dashed off over the

sprawling figures of her injured people.

McCoy watched her go. He didn't know if

he'd get to the girl later. He didn't know

if there would be a later. For any of them. But he had

trusted Jim Kirk before. He had to trust him again.

Then, suddenly, right-brace liSo fears got

worse as the lights flickered, dimmed, and then went

out.

Chapter Twenty-four

AT LEAST the bridge wasn't crowded.

Scatty had asked permission to beam survivors

onto the bridge and Kirk had denied him. They

needed open spaces here, and the ability to think without

explaining each action.

Or who they were.

Or how they came to be here.

Talking to Prescott was enough.

The bridge was a place of action.

It had to remain so.

Besides, Kirk needed the space to pace. He

stopped beside the science station. He didn't know how

Spock could remain so calm.

And motionless.

"How much time do we have before we

need to close that hole?" Kirk asked. 174

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"Twenty-six minutes, Captain." Spock

didn't even glance into his scope. Instead he

kept scanning surrounding space for more survivors.

Kirk nodded and sat down in his chair. Its

ruined pad felt almost welcome. He tapped his

comm button. "Mister Scott. Are the last

survivors out of that mine?"

They had been pulling two hundred more

Tauteean survivors from a deep mine on an

asteroid in the remains of the sixth planet. From

Mister Spock's last count, they had

rescued nine hundred and sixty Tauteeans.

They had no idea how many the two Klingon ships

or the Farragut had found.

"Aye, sir. We've got the last few and are

awaiting coordinates for more," Scotty said.

"Although I don't know where we'll put 'em."

More survivors. There wouldn't be any more. Even

though he wanted there to be. He shook his head,

marveling at the choices before him. A thousand was

simply not enough.

A small difference . . .

"dis . . is better than no difference at all,"

he muttered.

"Captain?" Uhura asked. She had turned,

hand to her ear, as if she had heard him in the

intercom.

He shook his head again. "Just muttering,

Lieutenant."

He punched the intercom button again to the

transporter room. "Good work, Mister Scott.

Stand by."

"Aye, sir," Scotty said.

Kirk was running out of the time or the luxury

to worry about all the Tauteeans he couldn't

rescue. 175

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

All he could do now, when he had quiet

time[*thorngg'if he ever had quiet time

ag[*thorngg'was

hope that Spock's estimates were wrong, that they

had found every last survivor.

That was a possibility, wasn't it?

But he knew better than to ask.

"Captain," Spock said, glancing up

from his scope. "I have found a large group of

survivors in a deep, underground mining area on the

fourth planet."

"How large?" Kirk wasn't really sure he

wanted to know the answer.

"I would estimate there to be over eight hun-

dred, sir."

"Eight hundred. We can't[*thorn]"

Suddenly the lights flickered and then went out. In

the half second of total darkness, Kirk stood.

This was too much. Then the emergency lights came

on-line. The display screens and the instrumentation

panels provided most of the light. The crew

looked ghostly, but they had all retained their

positions.

"We have had a full power loss, Captain,"

Spock said. "All of the sensors are down."

"Communications are out," Uhura said.

"The helm is not responding," Sulu said.

Kirk glanced around, not really believing what was

happening. Suddenly they were completely dead and blind in

the middle of the most

dangerous debris field this side of Earth.

Quickly he slammed his fist onto the comm button.

"Scatty! What's going on?"

There was a moment of silence; then a quavering 176

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

voice said, "Mister Scott is in the

transporter room."

Kirk knew that. He had hit engineering by force of

habit. He hit the comm button for the transporter

room. "Mister Scott! Status!"

This time, Scotty's voice responded immedi-

ately. "Well, Captain, from what I can tell

here, all this shaking and rattling around caused a short

somewhere in the main circuits. The short caused a

power spike large enough to knock out the main power

couplings. Most of the systems are off-line."

"We noticed,"" Kirk said. "We can't run

like this, Scotty. We need power. Now."

"I know, sir. I'll do what I can. But at the

moment, I canna get you more power."

Kirk leaned toward the arm of his seat. "How long

will it take to get the power back on-line?"

"I'm heading for engineering now," Scotty said.

"It shouldn't be very long."

"How long, Mister Scott?"

"Ach, five minutes, maybe six," Scotty

said.

"Captain," Spock said, without turning

around, "the next subspace wave will hit us in

exactly two minutes and eight seconds."

"Mister Scott, you have two minutes."

"Aye, sir," Scotty said.

Kirk hoped two minutes was enough time. Because if it

wasn't, the Enterprise and the thousand Tauteean

survivors on board would be smashed to a pulp against

the nearest asteroid.

Chapter Twenty-five

"CAPTAIN," Science Officer Lee said,

glancing up from his scope. His voice seemed

to shake and his face looked pale in the blue light

from his panel. "The Enterprise is in trouble."

"What?" Bogle jumped up from his command chair.

He'd spent most of the last hour there in silence,

riding out the bumps of the subspace waves, and

thinking, letting his crew handle the few rescue

operations. Kirk's last communique before the

Enterprise went into the rings on a rescue operation

had been addressed to both him and Admiral

Hoffman at Starfleet. Kirk had reasoned that

without the Federation and Klingons closing the rift, the

Tauteean race might have a chance of survival.

A small

chance, but chance nonetheless. Therefore, since the

Federation was causing the 178

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

final destruction of the Tauteean system to save

itself, a rescue operation was justified. The Prime

Directive no longer applied.

Kirk had a good argument, but it was nothing more than

that. Hoffman might buy it. She wasn't here.

She hadn't seen the rings, or the destruction. She

didn't know just how

devastating it was.

But Bogle did. And he wasn't convinced. The

Tauteeans would have died if the Federation didn't

exist. They would have died if no one had come into their

sector. They would die five days sooner because of

Federation interference, but no race could save itself in

only five days.

Not in circumstances like these.

Not with this kind of rift, in these kind of waves,

with the Tauteeans' level of technology.

Jim Kirk knew that, and Kelly Bogle

knew that.

Bogle respected Kirk enough not to argue the point

at this time. But that was it. If he was called

to testify, he knew what he would say.

"Sir?" Lee said.

Bogle stood and moved over to the science station.

"Can you tell what's happening?" Bogle asked.

"They seem to have suddenly lost all power and

engines."

Behind him Bogle heard a few gasps from his

bridge crew. Without power or engines, the

Enterprise would not survive in those waves. Damn

Kirk.

Bogle turned to Gustavus. "Hail them."

"Yes, sir," she said. "Farragut

to Enterprise. Come in, Enterprise."

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

Bogle waited in silence.

"Farragut to Enterprise. Come in,

Enterprise."

Nothing. Bogle rubbed his thumb and

forefinger together, an old nervous habit he thought

he'd lost.

"Farragut to Enterprise. Come in,

Enterprise."

Kirk had caused this. Kirk had gone in with no

regard for Federation dictates, and now

Kirk and his ship had become Bogle's

responsibility.

"They may have lost communication in the power

outage," Lee said. "It appears to be a

shipwide failure. If that is the case, they

probably also have lost sensors."

Bogle glanced at the front screen, which showed the

huge debris fields slowly forming rings around the

Tauteean sun. A ship stranded in there, without power,

had no chance of survival.

Bogle didn't want to know the answer to the next

question, but he had to ask it. "How long until the

next subspace wave hits them?"

Lee studied his scope for a moment, his fingers

dancing on his control board. Finally he said,

"Less than two minutes, sir."

Bogle stood frozen for a moment. Not enough time

to get there and help. Not enough time at all.

But he could at least try.

He turned to Rodriguez. "Take us in to the

position of the Enterprise at the safest and fastest

possible course."

After just a second Rodriguez said, "The

course is plotted."

"Do it," Bogle said. Then he turned

to Lee. "Keep an eye on that wave and make

sure it doesn't slam us into a damn rock."

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"Understood, sir."

Bogle sat down and watched the big screen.

There was little he could do now. He had to trust the

skill of his navigator and his science officer. He

had no other choice.

The Farragut and the Enterprise were his

responsibility. He had to risk his own ship to go

after James Kirk.

He hated that.

And right now he hated Jim Kirk more than

anything.

Chapter Twenty-six

BEIND, DEAF, TRAPPED in a lifeless ship

in the middle of a debris field. With a subspace

wave on the way.

Kirk glanced at Prescott. She had gone very

pale.

She knew what was happening.

It had happened to her before. All of her people had

been in this situation before.

He had risked his ship and his life to save as many

of them as he could. He wouldn't let this stop him.

He would succeed, at any cost.

"One minute until the wave hits,

Captain," Spock said.

Kirk pressed the comm button so hard his finger

hurt. "Mister Scott, I need power, at least

to the impulse engines and the sensors."

"I'm working on it, sir," Scotty said. His

voice 182

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

sounded strained and breathless, as if he'd been

running.

Kirk took a deep breath and forced himself to glance

around, away from the totally blank main screen.

Prescott stood, her hands grasping the rail as

if she'd fall off a cliff were she to let go.

Kirk didn't blame her. He couldn't imagine

going through what she had experienced the past few

weeks.

Sulu continued to work the helm as if he could get

control from his seat. Uhura was beneath the communications

board, apparently trying to patch things. Chekov was

beside her, offering his advice softly.

But Kirk's gaze kept coming back to the

blank screen. He felt as if it were a curtain

on the rest of the world, hiding but not preventing danger.

Outside the thin hull of this ship, hundreds of

huge rocks and asteroids Doated. When the wave

hit, the Enterprise would be in for the ride of her

life.

Kirk took his finger off the comm button.

"What's our status, Mister Spock?"

"We have full shields, Captain," Spock

said, his face intent on the panel before him, "but no

sensors or impulse power. Warp drive is still

available to us, as are the docking thrusters."

"What's our chance of surviving this next wave?"

"Without impulse power and sensors," Spock

said, "we have a ninety-nine-percent chance of being

smashed into an asteroid too large for our shields.

There is an eighty-seven-percent chance there will be no

survivors from such a collision."

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

"Oh, no," Prescott said into the silence of the

bridge. "This can't be happening."

"Sensors are back," Sulu said, his voice

almost breaking in the excitement.

Kirk whirled as the main screen lit up, showing

them the debris field around them.

"Thirty seconds until the wave hits,"

Spock said.

That last minute and a half had been the longest of

Kirk's life.

"Mister Spock," Kirk asked, still staring at the

screen, "can we move quickly enough with

docking thrusters to avoid collisions?"

"No, sir," Spock said.

"Scotty?" Kirk said, holding his finger down

on the comm button. "There's no time left. We

need impulse power."

He didn't expect Scotty to answer.

"Mister Spock, give Sulu the course just in

case."

"I have already done so, Captain," Spock said.

Chekov made his way back down the bridge,

returning to his position. Uhura had climbed

back into her chair. Apparently the rewiring hadn't

worked.

Kirk stepped forward and patted Sulu on the

shoulder. "If we don't have impulse when the wave

hits, do your best with the docking

thrusters. Avoid what you can."

"Aye, sir," Sulu said.

"Ten seconds," Spock said.

Kirk retreated and sat down in his command chair.

"Nine seconds," Spock said. 184

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

His voice almost sounded calmer than the computer's.

"Eight."

Kirk grimaced. It seemed like his entire life

had been lived with countdowns.

"Seven."

Maybe he did prefer the computer's voice.

He was used to it counting the seconds of his life

away.

"six."

"Scatty," he said softly, not bothering to punch

the comm button.

"Five."

"Hold on, everyone," Kirk said, making

certain he sounded calm.

"Four."

"Captain," Scotty's voice cut through the

bridge. "You got your power."

"Three."

Kirk took a deep breath. "It's all yours,

Mister Sulu."

"Two."

The ship moved forward.

"One.",

The moaning started and the wave hit with the force of an

angry child pounding on an unwanted toy.

To Kirk this wave felt more intense than any of the

others. He didn't know if it really was, or if

it just seemed to be because they had come so close to dying with

this one.

He managed to maintain his seat. Everyone on the

bridge stayed at their stations and Prescott 185

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

remained standing as the pounding shook the ship. It was

amazing they hadn't had something fail before now.

Then the wave passed.

And they were still alive.

Every face on the bridge, except for

Spock's, had an ear-to-ear smile. Kirk could

feel himself smiling as well.

"Nice work, Mister Scott," Kirk said into the

intercom.

"My poor girl will need every nut and bolt

tightened after this ride," Scotty said.

"At Starbase Eleven, Mister

Scott. I promise."

"I'll hold you to that, Captain."

"The Farragut is approaching," Chekov said.

"And they're hailing us," Uhura said.

Kirk's grin widened. He had an idea that just

might work, now that Bogle had come charging to their

rescue. He turned to Mister Spock. "Do we

still have time to rescue those survivors you spotted?"

"Barely, sir," Spock said. "We have twenty

minutes until we need to close the rift."

"That's enough time," Kirk said.

"Eight hundred people, sir," Chekov said.

"They'll be hanging off the rafters."

Kirk shook his head. "No, they won't,

Ensign."

"But sir, we're already filled[*thorn]"

"Yes, we are, Mister Chekov. We'll need

to find somewhere new to put them all." Kirk leaned

back in his chair. The main screen showed the

Farragut, a small but growing ship against the

debris field. 186

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"And I think I just might know just the place. And

I'll wager they have room."

Kirk stood.

"Answer the hail, Lieutenant, and put this on

screen," Kirk said. "Let's see just how good a

poker player my old friend Bogle

really is."

Chapter Twenty-seven

THE SHAKING FROM the last wave passed.

Bogle's crew had learned to ride the waves

out. No one had lost his seat, no one had even

moved a finger except for balance.

And no one said a word.

Bogle stared at the screen, but it didn't tell

him much. Kirk, the Enterprise, and even the

survivors worried him.

Even the survivors.

Bogle shook his head, and turned. Lee was staring

into his scope. His long body was tense, and his hands

were gripping the science

console.

His knuckles were white.

"Mr. Lee?" Bogle asked, not really wanting

the answer. Without power, no ship would have survived that

wave.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Lee stood slowly. "They made it. Looks like

they got their impulse engines back on line at the

last second."

Bogle let out the breath he hadn't realized he

was holding. This system was disaster enough for all of them.

They didn't need to lose the Enterprise too.

At least, not on his watch.

"Hail them," he said as he turned back to the

screen.

"Aye, sir," Gustavus said. "Farragut

to Enter- prise, come in, Enterprise."

Outlined against the debris, the Enterprise was

moving slowly toward them. She had a battered

look, some of her lights were off, but she looked

sleek and powerful, like the flagship she was.

After a moment, Gustavus said, "I have the

Enterprise, sir."

"On screen," Bogle said. He moved

closer. He forced himself to show his most calm face.

Right now he was relieved. Underneath, though, he was

furious. Kirk had put four hundred of his people in

danger while he broke the Prime Directive.

And then he had put Bogle's ship at risk.

The image on the screen shifted from the exterior

of the Enterprise to the interior. Kirk

smiled as the picture cleared. He looked even more

beat-up and tousled than he had an hour before.

Bogle imagined he didn't look much better.

"Thanks for coming to help," Kirk said. "That was a

close one."

Bogle nodded. "I know. Do you still need

assistance?"

Kirk glanced around and then looked back at

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

Bogle. "Actually, we do. My chief engineer

informs me that the Enterprise is still having problems.

He needs to shut down the

environmental controls on some of the lower decks.

The problem is that we are stuffed to the gills with

survivors. How many have you picked up? I'd like

to beam some over to you."

Bogle glanced back at Lee who answered

softly, "We have found a little over three

hundred."

Bogle nodded and turned back to Kirk. "We

have over three hundred," Bogle said. "I doubt

we could take too many more."

Kirk laughed. "We're almost at a

thousand. And if the environmental controls go, then I

hurt them. We might even lose some of the injured

ones."

Bogle glanced at Lee. Lee shrugged and

mouthed, his controls look fine. Kirk was

bluffing. He was trying to manipulate Bogle, and the

manipulation wouldn't wor k.

"Take the risk, Jim," Bogle said. "I

get the ploy and I think we have enough for now."

The smile le* Jim Kirk's face.

"Kelly, I'm the one who takes the

responsibility here. You're going to make certain

I'm court-martialed when we get back, if my

guess is correct. Take some more of the evidence with

you. I'd hate to be court-martialed for saving

lives I later lost."

Bogle laughed. He couldn't believe Kirk was

even asking this. What was his reason? It made no

sense.

"Kelly," Kirk said. "I'll go on record

that you had no part in the rescue and it was my

decision completely."

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"I rescued survivors, also,"

Bogle reminded him. "I am perfectly capable

of standing for my own decisions."

"Are you, Kelly?" Kirk asked. "Are you

really? Or are you just using the Prime Directive

as a shield to hide behind? You're afraid to take

risks. Afraid to do anything that would

jeopardise this marvelous career of yours. But being

a starship captain is all about taking risks,

Kelly, and if you don't have the guts to do so, then

you'll always be one step behind the rest of us."

That stung. Bogle felt his face go red, even

though he didn't want it to. Bogle hated

Kirk for his fast promotions and now Kirk was

tossing the fact at him like a weapon. How could

Kirk have known how he felt?

Bogle forced himself to take a deep breath. "You

just don't understand, do you, Jim? Rules such as the

Prime Directive were made for reasons. Damn

good reasons. Not just so you could go running around the

sector breaking them."

"I don't run around the sector breaking them,"

Kirk said. "'But I do know when taking a risk

is important." He motioned behind him. A tiny

humanoid woman climbed into view. She had a

bruise on her forehead, and her wide

eyes held a strain that Bogle couldn't even begin

to understand. "Right now, I doubt our rules would carry

much weight with Prescott and her people below."

Across the distance between the two

starships, the woman held Kelly's gaze

until he finally had to look away. Kirk played

dirty. Putting a face instead of just a rule on

these people made it harder.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

"Your environmental controls aren't really go-

ing, are they, Jim?"

Kirk put a hand on Prescott's shoulder.

"They're strained to the breaking point, Kelly, and

anything else I might do would strain them further.

Let's give these people the best chance we can. You've

got the room."

The woman didn't say anything. She didn't

have to. Her wide eyes said it all. Even if

Kirk was Iying, even if he was scheming, Bogle

now had a face that would haunt his dreams.

And if something did happen to the

Enterprise, it would be his nightmares.

He glanced at Lee. "How long would

it take to beam a large number of survivors

aboard?"

"With all the transporters," Lee said,

"including cargo transporters of both ships, not

long. Maybe five minutes."

"Four point eight minutes for six hundred,"

Bogle heard someone say behind Kirk.

Bogle faced Kirk. "Do it. Get them over

here. Then let's go close that rift and get out of

here."

Kirk broke into a smile. "We'll do it.

And, Kelly, thanks."

The screen went blank.

Bogle turned to Lee and said, "Give the order

to get the evacuation started and let me know the moment

we have them all. I want to get out of here."

"Yes sir," Lee said and turned to his

panel. Bogle couldn't tell if he was smiling

or not.

"And watch out for the next wave."

"Yes sir," Lee said again. 192

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Bogle dropped down into his command chair.

Bogle had watched Kirk play poker. Kirk

bluffed, a lot.

Bogle also knew that the environmental

controls on the Enterprise weren't reason enough

to ship the survivors over to the

Farragut. No, Kirk had a plan. A

clear plan which he wasn't going to share with Bogle.

There was sixteen minutes left until they had

to close that rift. Sixteen long minutes. That

gave Kirk a lot of extra time. The question was,

what was he going to do with it?

Chapter Twenty-eight

BOGLE HAD GivENOUGH IN. Prescott

had done it. Bogle hadn't been able to argue the

rules while Prescott was staring him in the face.

Kirk should have skipped the entire business of the

environmental controls. While it was true, on an

odd sort of level[*thorngg'the Enterprise

wouldn't have been able to support all the new

survivors and the old[*thorngg'x hadn't been

nearly as convincing as Prescott herself.

Kirk squeezed her shoulder, then spun and hit

his comm button. "Scatty, we're emergency-

beaming seven hundred Tauteean survivors over

to the Farragut. Coordinate with them, and do it

fast."

"But, Captain, I need to work on the

Enterprise 194

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

herself. She's not in top shape yet and we still have

some business here in this rift."

Kirk grinned. Scotty always wanted to work on

his ship over everything else. "I know that, Mr.

Scott. Keep it together as best you can. But unload

the survivors. Fast. Kirk out."

Kirk punched the comm button again. "Dr.

McCoy, to the bridge at once."

"On my way," McCoy's voice came

back.

Kirk smiled at Spock. "He's not going to like

this one at all."

Spock looked puzzled. "I do not understand what

Dr. McCoy's enjoyment of a situation has to do

with the rescue of more survivors."

Kirk laughed and waved his hand from side to side.

"Never mind. Just tell me how long it will take us

to get to those survivors you found, get them aboard,

and get to the rift."

"The new group of survivors number, at my

latest count, approximately nine hundred and

eighty. They are under a very thin layer of

rock, which will allow us to bring them aboard in eight

point six minutes."

Kirk nodded. They could do that, if

everything kept working. "Will it give us enough time to get

to the rift?"

"Yes, Captain. We will have almost two

minutes to spare."

"Two minutes," Kirk said. Two minutes.

For the Tauteean people, those two minutes might be an

entire future. "Spock, I want you to keep

me informed the second we fall behind

schedule. If we 195

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

fall behind. Getting that rift closed is much more

important than the last few hundred

survivors."

He glanced at Prescott, who was frowning from his

last statement. "I'm sorry, but it is."

She nodded, but the frown didn't leave her

face.

Behind her, the lift doors burst open and Dr.

McCoy came out, looking dirty, tired, and

angry. "Jim, just what in blazes is going on?

I had a roomful of Tauteean

survivors beamed right out from under my nose."

"We're putting them back on the rocks,"

Kirk said. Then, before Dr. McCoy could have a

brain hemorrhage, he laughed. "We're moving

them all to the Farragut."

McCoy seemed to stammer for a minute as Chekov

and Sulu both chuckled at the joke. Then he said,

"For heaven's sake, why?"

Kirk let himself drop down into his chair before

he answered. "Because there are nine hundred more we're

going to bring aboard." He swung so he could see the

doctor's face. "So be ready."

McCoy opened his mouth, then closed it, then

opened it again. But not one word came out. "How long?"

Kirk glanced at Spock. "The last of the

survivors we have aboard are just being

transported to the Farragut. I would say the

new survivors will start arriving in about two

minutes."

Kirk swung back around to face the front

screen. He'd better say something to Bogle before

they left. No point in having him too angry.

"Give me the Farragut. his

After a moment Uhura said, "On screen,

sir."

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Kirk stood as Bogle's face came

into view. "Thanks, Kelly," Kirk said.

"See you at the rift?" Bogle said.

"We're on our way," Kirk said, and then cut

the screen.

Then he said to the air in front of him, "We just

have a few passengers to pick up first."

Chapter Twenty-nine

THE ENVIRONMENTAL CONTROLS were

strained. Spock's estimate had been off.

Instead of nine hundred and eighty survivors on

the surface below, there had been nine hundred and

eighty on the first level. Another five hundred

had been on the level below.

The Enterprise had beamed them all aboard, and

Scotty said they were crammed like

breeding gophers under an island green,

something Kirk hadn't understood. Sulu had said

Scotty was using a golf metaphor, and Kirk

didn't ask any more.

He had tried golf once, in Iowa as a boy.

He preferred chess.

Or basketball. Either all cerebral

activity or none.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

And here he was, in the middle of a crisis,

pondering a golf analogy.

"Captain"[*thorngg'Scotty's voice

sounded harried over the comm[*thorn)'"...I do think

we should move

some of these poor folks to the bridge."

"No, Mister Scott." Kirk sat on his

chair, then winced and stood abruptly. The pad was

com- pletely gone now. "They stay beldecks."

Kirk still needed the thinking room. Even if the

survivors were packed below. He was glad Bogle

had taken the rest. The Enterprise was strained almost

beyond her capacity, and they weren't done yet.

"Captain," Prescott said. "Do you think we

have time to find one more group?"

And one more, and one more. She would

keep asking, and they would miss their

opportunity. Kirk looked into her exhausted,

bruised face. This was the face that even the good

tightass Captain Kelly Bogle couldn't

refuse.

But Kirk had to.

"We're out of time, Prescott," he said.

"I'm sorry." Then he turned to Sulu.

"Take us to the rendezvous point near the rift."

"Aye, sir," Sulu said. His fingers moved

across the board. "Course laid in. We're on

our way."

He sounded almost relieved. Maybe he was.

The sooner they got to the rendezvous point, the

sooner this would all be over.

He hit the comm button. "Mister Scott.

Return to engineering. We'll need you there."

"Aye, sir," Scotty said. He sounded

relieved too. 199

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

Kirk sat down despite the ruined pad. "Are

the other ships in position?" he asked.

"The Farragut and the Klingon ship QuaQa

carrying KerDaq are in position," Spock said.

"The Klingon ship SorDaq is headed in that

direction and will arrive in one minute."

"Good," Kirk said, leaning back and watching as the

Enterprise moved above the plane of the destroyed

solar system and headed for the debris field

of the ninth planet. "What's our estimated arrival

time, Mister Sulu?"

"We'll be there in two minutes, sir," Sulu

said.

"So fast," a voice said from behind Kirk.

He swiveled his chair. Prescott was standing at

the rail, her arms resting on it, staring at the

screen. She was so short that she looked like a little

girl peering over a fence. Her face had that look

of awe and wonder that he had seen on others, and

felt a few times himself.

"What took us weeks to travel you do in min-

utes," Prescott said. "And you travel between the

stars? Not one of my people dared dream of such a thing.

We always just assumed it was impossible."

"Sometimes dreaming is the only way to find ways

to do the impossible," Kirk said.

Prescott pulled her gaze from the screen and

met his. Here, he knew, was a woman who

would continue to lead her people. She had nearly

destroyed them, but she had also helped rescue them.

Sometimes that culpability, that guilt, made

survivors try even harder.

They all had a long road ahead of them.

"I see now that you are right, Captain.

Our 200

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

problem was that we were too cautious, our dreams

too small," she said.

"It seems to me," Spock said, "that the dream of

unlimited energy for your people is not small."

"Yes it is," she said, "when we could have had the

stars." And then she smiled.

"Captain," Spock said. "We have reached the

designated point. All four ships are in

place. The third Klingon ship, Suqlaw, is

waiting outside the system."

"Understood," Kirk said. "Lieutenant

Uhura, patch me in to the other three ship

captains. Make sure they can also see each

other."

"Yes, sir," she said. The picture of the other

ships on the main screen dissolved and was re- placed

by a divided screen showing three faces, one human

and two Klingon. Captain Bogle, a streak of

dirt across his chin, nodded to Kirk.

KerDaq glowered. Kirk could see survivors

behind him.

The unknown Klingon captain squinted at

Kirk. Kirk squinted back.

"I am Commander Kutpon," the new Klingon

said, in what was obviously the most menacing tone he

could manage.

"Captain Kirk," Kirk said, deciding not

to play that game. KerDaq could explain to Kutpon

that relations with the Federation were cordial, for the moment.

"I hope the hunting went well for everyone."

"We have gathered over two hundred

survivors," Kutpon said.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

"We also have two hundred crammed

aboard," KerDaq said.

"The Tauteean people will hold you in great honor for

your bravery," Kirk said before Bogle could say

anything. There was no point in getting into a useless

numbers game over who rescued the most.

Bogle clearly understood. "You crammed us

full, Jim. And I see you made another stop

on the way."

Kirk shrugged. "We found we had the room."

Bogle just shook his head in obvious disgust.

Kirk wasn't sure if Kelly was mad at him,

or himself. "And how are your environmental

con- trols?"

"Strained to the breaking point," Kirk said, and

suppressed a grin.

Bogle nodded. "I suspect you're right. If

we hadn't had our rendezvous, you would have lost your

environmental controls. Funny how that works,

isn't it? Too many bodies in too small a

space."

Kirk shrugged. "Just planning ahead, Kelly."

"Obviously," Bogle said.

"We have two minutes, Captain," Spock

said.

Kirk took a deep breath and felt his grin

fade. The serious work had begun. He faced the

other three captains. "Are we all clear on

what we're going to attempt?"

KerDaq snorted. ""Of course we are,

Captain. A single blast from each ship timed together

will close the hole."

Kirk could see the other captains nodding in

unison. It seemed that everyone had been

briefed. 202

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"Mister Spock will count down to the firing time. The

moment after you have fired your full burst,

jump to warp. You will have only thirty seconds

to get out of the subspace wave's path."

All three captains nodded again.

The Klingons and the Federation might be enemies, but

that didn't stop them from

respecting each other. KerDaq was an

excellent captain. Kirk had no doubt that

Kutpon was the same. They knew the risks they would

place their ships under, the possible damage that could

occur.

Of course, if this didn't work, the damage

wouldn't matter. This rift in space would destroy this

entire sector of the galaxy and no one would live

through it.

"The nearest starbase, Starbase Eleven, is

only a half day away," Bogle said. "We can

dock there. With the survivors." He said the last with a

touch of sarcasm.

"Understood," KerDaq said. "We will be there."

His third of the screen went blank.

"And so will we," Kutpon said,

His section of the screen went dark as well.

Bogle said. "And good luck. We'll talk when

we reach the starbase his

"I am looking forward to it," Kirk

said. "And good luck to you, too. We're all going

to need it. Kirk out."

The screen went back to showing the four ships

spaced in a square formation above the debris field

of the ninth planet.

"We have one minute, Captain," Spock said.

Kirk glanced around. Uhura was still monitoring

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

communications. Sulu was staring at the screen.

Chekov was double-checking the coordinates.

Prescott leaned against the railing, her feet

barely touching the ground. Her slender face was lined

with tension. Spock was bent over his scope, looking

as unruffled as ever. Only the ensigns sitting off

to the sides seemed

frightened. And even they were working.

They were the only sign that this moment was different from

any other, that they faced more danger than they ever had.

Kirk's crew was the best in the galaxy.

He only hoped they would be good enough.

"Course laid in for Starbase Eleven,"

Sulu said.

"Lasers armed and ready, sir,"

Chekov said.

"Good," Kirk said. "On Mister Spock's

mark."

"Thirty seconds," Spock said.

"Are all four ships' weapons powered up?"

Kirk asked.

"They are, sir," Chekov said.

Thirty seconds seemed like an eternity.

Kirk resisted the urge to stand and pace. He needed

to focus all his concentration on that shot.

Because it was the only one they would ever have. The only

one, or the last one, depending on whether they hit

their target or not.

"Ten seconds," Spock said.

Kirk gripped the armrest.

"Nine."

Another countdown. Someday he would have to count down

how many countdowns he'd been in.

"Eight."

He watched the other ships get into position.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"Seven."

Chekov checked the coordinates again.

"six."

Prescott braced herself against the rail.

"Five."

Uhura swiveled so that she could see the

screen. "Four."

Kirk leaned forward, his stomach in knots.

"Three."

The ensigns stopped working and watched, their

expressions guarded.

"Two."

Spock raised his head out of the scope.

"One."

Kirk clenched his fist.

"Fires" Spock said.

On the screen Kirk could see the other three

ships firing and the beam from the Enterprise joining theirs

at a point below in the

destruction.

A long red line grew wide and powerful, like a

stream of water poured from a pitcher. Kirk felt that

if he tilted the Enterprise slightly, he could

see through the debris hole into the next universe.

Then, as a unit, all four beams from the ships

cut off.

"We hit our target," Spock said with an

amazing lack of excitement. Sometimes

Kirk wondered how he managed that flat tone in

life-threatening situations. "The feedback loop is

building as planned."

"Get us out of here, Mister Sulu," Kirk

snapped. "Warp four."

"Aye, sir," Sum said. He ran his hand up

the board as he said, "Engaging."

Dean Wesiey Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing happened.

The screen remained focused on the asteroids

below. None of the other three ships remained. All

had jumped to warp. Kirk couldn't see the huge

destructive subspace wave building up below, but

he knew it was coming.

"Mister Sulu!" Kirk said.

"The warp drive is off-line!" Sulu said, his

voice suddenly on the edge and rising.

Kirk punched the comm button. "Mister

Scott, we lost warp."

"I know, sir," the voice came right back.

"All this shaking and rattling knocked the coils out of

alignment. I warned you this might happen."

"The wave will hit in twenty seconds,"

Spock said with annoying calm.

"Oh, no," Prescott said behind Kirk. "This

can't be happening."

"Fix it, Scotty. Now!"

"I canna fix her in twenty seconds,

sir," Scotty said.

"I can't hold off that wave."

"I know, sir. If we had a minute, maybe.

But a minute might as well be forever."

Forever. Way too long. They had less than

twenty seconds to figure out a way to survive.

Twenty very short seconds.

Chapter Thirty

LESS THAN lWENTY SECONDS.

They had to do something.

Kirk opened his eyes. All he saw was

Prescott, her hands pressed to her face.

He saved her people only to lose them again.

"Scotty!" Kirk shouted into the comm line.

"Get those warp drives up! And put any extra

power you can to the shields. No w."

"Aye, sir," Scott said.

"The rift is closing," Spock said.

"We have fifteen seconds until the subspace

wave

reaches this location."

Kirk couldn't believe this was happening. There had

been no warning.

Of course, there might have been, but he had 207

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch assigned Scotty to the transporter

room. Scotty usually always babied that warp

engine. He'd have noticed if anything were going

wrong.

But he hadn't been there.

Kirk had thought he needed Scotty to

supervise the tricky transports.

And he had.

He needed a dozen Scotties.

Right now.

"Mister Sulu," he snapped. "Take us

directly away from that rift at full impulse'"

"Aye, sir," Sulu said.

The screen showed the destroyed system

angling away out of view, then a starfield.

"At this speed," Spock said, "the subspace

wave will reach and overtake us in fifty-one

seconds."

He had bought some time.

Scotty, do your magic.

Now.

Kirk turned to Spock. "What are the odds we

can surf this one out and survive?"

Spock shook his head. "There are too many

factors. I could not give you an accurate

estima- tion."

"Guess, Spock," Kirk said, his hands doubled

into fists.

Spock leaned back. "I believe there is a

less than zero-point-one-percent chance shields will

hold and the hull will not breach."

"Nice guess," Kirk said.

"I do my best," Spock said.

"Are we going to die?" Prescott asked.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"Not if I can help it," Kirk said. "But

I'd hang on to something real tight in the meantime."

lIe punched the comm link. "Scotty? Warp?"

"The engine's on-line, Captain, but she's not

responding."

"I thought you said we had a minute, Scotty.

You should have had plenty of time."

"A minute to get her back on-line,

Captain. But I didna say she was going to work."

"Well, keep trying." Kirk punched the

intercom off.

Spock stood and clasped his hands behind his back,

as if he were going to make an important

pronouncement. "The rift has closed."

They had succeeded, but they could not cele- brate.

The first time, he had saved the galaxy by sacrificing

Edith. This time, he was saving the galaxy

by sacrificing himself and his crew.

And fourteen hundred and eighty Tauteean

survivors.

He would not lose to the galaxy twice.

He.

Would.

N.

He turned to Spock. "Is there any way

to get any more impulse power?"

"No," Spock said. "Not enough power, anyway.

But I do have an idea."

"Make it quick," Kirk said.

Spock bowed his head once. Then he stepped

forward, and all the repressed emotion, the excitement

and the fear, was in his eyes. But not his 209

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

voice. "We must apply Dr. McCoy's

theory

again. We cannot defeat the entire wave. But we can

modify a small section of it."

"How, Spock?"

"At the precise moment that the wave

overtakes us, we use a photon-torpedo

blast to cut down the intensity of that small section

of the wave."

Kirk frowned. "Like cutting a hole through it for us

to ride in?"

"Precisely," Spock said.

"Would ten photon torpedoes be better?"

"If they are concentrated," Spock said, "at the

exact point and time that the wave would hit us."

"Spock, you're brilliant," Kirk said.

He leapt out of his chair. "Chekov, arm ten

photon torpedoes and wait for Mister Spock's

mark."

"Armed and ready, sir," Chekov said.

Spock had returned to his chair. He was

peering into the scope again, his fingers flying over the

keys in front of him. "We have twenty

seconds," he said.

Kirk paced the area behind the helm. Twenty

seconds suddenly felt like an eternity. A moment

ago they had seemed like nothing. He stopped beside his

chair and punched the

intercom.

"Scotty?"

"She's a stubborn wee beastie, Captain."

"I'll take that as a no." He had hoped the

warp would come back, but now that it wasn't, he had

to do something else.

He hit the shipwide comm button. "This is the

captain speaking. Brace yourselves. This last wave will

be greater than anything we've

experienced. 210

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Hold on tight and do not move until the

bumping ends. Captain out."

"The wave will hit in ten seconds," Spock

said.

Prescott slid wider the nearest console.

Uhura wrapped her boots around the base of her

chair. Chekov gripped the sides of his console.

"Scatty?" Kirk said into his intercom.

"I'm sorry, sir," Scotty said,

the exasperation clear in his voice. "but I canna do

it. She's taken too great a beating."

"Five seconds," Spock said. His chair was

all the way against the console. But he hadn't grabbed

anything yet.

Neither had Kirk.

Kirk returned to his chair and gripped the

arms. He would rather have joined Prescott under the

console, but he had to stay here to monitor everything.

"On my mark, Mister Chekov," Spock said.

Some crewmen had also crawled under the consoles.

Kirk almost reprimanded them, but then decided against

it. He didn't really need them at the moment

anyway. Sulu followed

Uhura's example, and wrapped his legs around

his chair.

"Fire!" Spock said.

The ship rocked as the photon torpedoes fired.

Then the wave hit.

It felt as if the Enterprise had slammed

into an interstellar wall. The ship rocked forward,

then stopped, before propelling backward and bouncing

along the surface of something Kirk couldn't see.

The lights went off, the computer began reciting

211

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

damage statistics, and the screen went dead.

Sparks flew from the consoles and someone screamed.

Kirk hung on to the chair as hard as he could, but

he didn't stand much of a chance of staying in it.

Chekov flew past him, twirling in the air like a

top.

The ship felt like a bucking horse. Kirk

rode his chair for the first few major jolts and then it

moved down when he was moving up.

He lost his grip on the arms and soared through the

air, as he had done as a boy on his second

riding lesson.

Time seemed to stop, yet the bridge was a blur

of noise and darkness and sparks around him.

He slammed into the navigation console, and felt a

pain so deep that his body couldn't encompass it

all.

Something was wrong.

His mind wanted to leave.

But it couldn't.

He'd fallen before and remained conscious.

He reached for the console, in an attempt to stand

up.

Then everything went black.

Chapter Thirty-one

McCoally WAS IN the cargo bay.

The elderly man in front of him seemed to have

suffered the Tauteean form of a heart attack.

McCoy had somehow kept the man

from dying, but he wasn't sure how long that would

continue. He was still clueless about Tauteean internal

physiology. He had sent for one of the Tauteean

doctors, and hoped she would know what to do.

A young Tauteean woman named Dicnar was

preparing the next patient, quizzing her about the

various pains, seeing if the emergency could wait.

She wasn't as good as Nutri had been, but she was

working out just fine.

The noise and stench here was as

overpowering as it had been everywhere else. Only

here, the noise 213

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch came from the moans of the injured, and the stench

was that of damaged and rotting flesh.

Some of these wounds had suppurated for over a

week. McCoy shuddered to think of it.

He had made the cargo bay an

emergency

facility. He hadn't been able to work in the

shuttle bay, where a large number of this new group

had arrived. And there was no way he could make it

to sickbay. The patients in here were seriously ill,

and might not even survive until the next day.

He had to tend to them first.

Back to rule number one of emergency care.

But he wasn't thinking about his patients at the

moment. He was worrying. The captain's voice had

just come over the intercom, telling everyone to hold on.

Something had gone

terribly wrong. They should have jumped to warp and

been away from the subspace waves of destruction.

But obviously they hadn't.

And except for his assistant, McCoy was the

only mobile person in the entire bay. He

couldn't secure these people. There wasn't even a

place to secure himself.

Earlier, security guards had tied off the

barrels that Scotty kept down here, but McCoy

wasn't even certain those ties would hold. He

needed a good old-fashioned forcefield, but since the

lights had just flickered and dimmed down here, he

doubted there was enough power for that, either.

He glanced around. He needed something to hang on

to.

"The support beam, Dicnar," he said, and

hur- ried over the supine patients to the middle of the

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

bay. Dicnar was right behind him. They clung to the

support beam like prisoners tied to a sailing mast.

Then the deck came alive under his feet.

A huge rumbling shook everything, and the deck

bucked like a blanket being flapped out over a bed.

Up.

Down.

Up.

Then down hard again.

His patients flew like leaves in a violent

wind- storm. Dicnar was screaming, and McCoy

watched in horror as the fragile, horribly

ill Tauteeans slammed into each other, into walls,

and onto the floor.

He would lose them.

He would lose them all.

Then the floor bucked particularly hard, yanking

him loose and tossing him into the air. He tried

to regain his balance, but the effort was

futile. He wrapped his arms around his head, brought

his knees up to protect his chest, and watched the

ground careen toward him.

He landed on top of a Tauteean who had a

severed leg. McCoy could feel the man's bones

breaking. Or maybe they were McCoy's bones.

He didn't want to think about that.

Two more hard, sharp shakes that sent him into the air

again and then the deck became a solid place again under

him.

He waited for the next shock, but it didn't come.

Slowly, making sure he still had all his bones

intact, he stood. He was going to be sore for

days, 215

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

but at least he was alive. He wagered that was a

great deal more than he could say for some of his patients

around him.

The man he landed on had gone white with pain. His

remaining leg was twisted and

flattened.

But he wasn't the only one.

What had once been neat rows of the

desperately sick Tauteeans was now

a jumble of flesh and bedding and clothes. He couldn't

tell in many places where one patient started and

another left off.

A few feet in front of him, Dicnar pulled

herself to her feet andwitha dazed look, glanced around.

"Dicnar," McCoy said over the slowly growing

moaning sounds filling the room. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, turning to face him. She had hit

her head. Above her right eye a large purple

knot was welling up.

"Stay right there," he said. He quickly glanced

around until he saw his medical tricorder near the

pillar he had been originally holding. He grabbed

the tricorder, and by stepping over a few

unconscious Tauteeans, he was at Dicnar's

side.

"You'll live," he said, shutting off his scanner

after just a moment. "Although you may regret it when the

headache hits. Think you can help me here?"

She nodded, then put her hand to the side of her

face. The movement must have hurt.

McCoy had to take her mind off it, just as he

had to take his mind off the throbbing in his knees.

2 tilde 6

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"Good." McCoy glanced around. A few more of the

Tauteeans were getting to their feet. They all

glanced at him as if asking him what they should do. It

was so overwhelming. He knew how bad this room

looked, and this room was just one of many.

Now, instead of all the old injuries, there were a

series of new ones as well.

And the lights were still dim.

The ship was in trouble, too.

The barrels had remained in place. The

bodies had piled on the left side of the cargo

bay, just beneath the barrels, leading McCoy to think that

the ship had tilted somehow, had lost part of her

internal stabiliser. The right side of the room was

bare.

"Dicnar," he said, "let's start up in the right

corner and straighten this mess out. Let's see what

we have here."

Now.

Now that things had gotten worse.

He would be at this for days. Why didn't

Starfleet listen to him? Why weren't there more medical

personnel on starships? It wasn't as if a

trip into space was a walk in the park.

"Dr. McCoy to the bridge," the

intercom said, barely audible as the moaning in the

room grew. It sounded like Sulu's voice, but he

couldn't tell.

He glared at the faraway voice. He was

needed here. Here, dammit.

"Go," Dicnar said. "I'll start here."

Even she understood Starfleet protocol, even

though she'd only been on the ship for a few 2 1

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

minutes. The doctor had to treat the bridge

staff first. If he didn't, the ship's most

important personnel might die and leave them

all

stranded.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," he said.

But she had already turned and bent over the

survivor closest to the right corner.

He headed for the bridge, stepping over moaning people

as he went.

This was impossible. If it was this bad here, no

telling what the rest of the ship looked like.

And who was injured or dying on the bridge. He

didn't want to think about those

possibilities at all.

The door from the cargo bay opened onto a scene

of total destruction. Ceiling tiles had fallen

all over and the hundreds of Tauteean survivors

who had littered the halls had been tossed everywhere.

Many were getting back to their feet and trying to help

their friends, but others weren't so lucky.

He slowly worked his way up the hall, helping

those he could help quickly. Whoever was hurt on the

bridge was just going to have to wait a little longer. This

situation was impossible.

Just impossible.

Chapter Thirty-Two

THE FARRAGUT FELT like a refugee leaving

the site of a thousand-year war. It wouldn't have been

so bad, Bogle thought, if it weren't for that last

group of survivors. Kirk had sent over more than

Bogle expected, and there'd been no room for them

in the lower decks.

He had to put them on the bridge.

He had forgotten how badly people smelled when

they'd been locked up together in a small research

station with no running water. He had

surreptitiously ordered the

air-filtration system on high, but it hadn't

helped much.

No wonder Kirk had been concerned about his

environmental systems. Even if an extra thousand

people could have breathed the air, the systems wouldn't have been

able to handle the stench.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

Bogle gripped the arms of his command chair,

alternately cursing Kirk and feeling

half-relieved that he had helped the man. Not

helping would have haunted Bogle's sleep for years.

The difference between him and Kirk was

that Bogle followed the rules, even when they

gave him nightmares.

Kirk didn't.

But in this case, Kirk had an argument that

Starfleet would probably buy. And Kirk had

made the decision. Bogle hadn't. But he would, in

his private logs and in his off-the-record

communications with the admirals, make it clear that he

never wanted to work with James Kirk again.

Their styles were too different.

And the next time, Bogle might end up

fighting Kirk instead of solving whatever problem was

at hand.

"Captain," Richard Lee said, standing up from his

scope. Bogle hated it when Lee used that tone.

It meant something else had gone wrong. "The

Enterprise didn't jump to warp."

"What?" Bogle asked. He swiveled his

chair and nearly hit an elderly Tauteean

woman in the head. Of all the stupid things to do.

Kirk should have known better. No one could surf that

wave, not even that damn James T. Kirk.

What was Kirk thinking?

Bogle swiveled his chair so that his feet were

nowhere near the woman's head. She, for her part,

moved closer to the railing, and looked at him with

terror.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"Are we far enough out to be safe for the moment?"

Bogle asked.

"Yes, sir," Lee said. "At this distance it will

take the wave almost a day to reach us. And its

intensity will have decreased by almost fifty percent."

"All stop," Bogle said. He got out of his

chair, and stepped past three survivors.

They gathered their legs up close, and watched him as

if he were some lumbering giant[*thorngg'wh, from their

perspective, he probably was.

He stopped beside Lee, who was again

looking into his scope.

"Do you know what happened?"

"They've gone to full impulse power," Lee

said. "It seems they're trying to outrun the wave."

"They can't do that at impulse," Bogle said.

"Why didn't they jump to warp?"

"Maybe something broke down," Lee said,

glancing up at the captain. "It does happen, and

usually at the worst times. And their ship took quite a

beating doing that rescue operation."

Bogle nodded. That would seem more logical.

Kirk might take risks that Bogle didn't

agree with, but he never seemed to take unreasonable

risks.

At least, not with people's lives.

With people's careers, maybe, but not their lives.

"How long do they have?" Bogle asked.

"Ten seconds to impact," Lee said.

Ten seconds.

Ten seconds wasn't even long enough to

make a decision, let alone figure

out a way to assist them.

Come on, Jim.

He didn't dare die now. Bogle didn't

think he 221

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

could be nearly as convincing as Kirk in

discussing the reasons behind all the Tauteean

survivors aboard.

Besides, if the Enterprise was destroyed, the

fleet would lose one of its best ships.

"Sir, they're powering up photon torpedoes."

Bogle laughed in spite of the situation. "Kirk

just won't say die. He's going to blast a hole

in the wave."

Lee stood, but kept his face pressed to the

scope. "They fired ten torpedoes at

point-blank range!"

"Well?" Bogle said, almost fearing the news.

"Did they make it?"

Lee didn't respond. He shifted from foot

to foot, staring into the screen.

The rest of the bridge crew leaned forward.

The survivors merely looked confused.

Bogle resisted the urge to rub his hands

together nervously.

This last was one strain too many in an

unbelievable day. The second time they had stood

on the sidelines and watched the

Enterprise in a scrape.

Come on, Jim.

Finally Lee straightened away from the scope.

He was grinning.

"The wave is past them," he said. "They seem

dead in space, but they are still in one piece."

"Yessss!" Bogle said, clenching a fist and

shaking it. The rest of the crew grinned too. Bogle

cleared his throat, tugged his shirt into place, and

resumed his dignified-captain pose as if he

hadn't just acted like a schoolboy whose team had won

the championship.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"Hail the Enterprise, Gustavus."

"Aye, sir," she said. She moved her hand across

the communications board. "I'm getting no

response."

"Two Klingon vessels are dropping out of warp

near us, sir," Rodriguez said.

Bogle turned to Lee. "Can we get

back to the Enterprise?"

Lee shook his head. "No, sir, not for a few

days at least. They're inside that expanding sphere

of the subspace wave. The same thing would happen to us

if we tried to go back that just happened to them. We have

to wait until the intensity of the wave has diminished

by a factor of fifty at least."

"We're being hailed by the Klingons,"

Gustavus said.

"On screen," Bogle said. He turned,

narrowly missing the feet of a Tauteean infant.

The child squalled and crawled back toward its mother.

Bogle barely managed to face the screen before

KerDaq's image appeared.

"It seems your friend Kirk has gotten himself in

trouble again," KerDaq said.

Bogle nodded. "It seems that way."

"Are you foolish enough to try to return?" KerDaq

asked.

"There is nothing we can do at the moment," Bogle

said. "We need to proceed to the starbase and unload

these survivors."

"I agree," KerDaq said. "Then we shall

return to help Kirk."

""We"?" Bogle blurted out the word

in spite of himself. He couldn't really believe what

he had just 223

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

heard. But he was facing a Klingon who was

temporarily his ally. He should have been more

tactful.

KerDaq snorted. "Kirk saved my life when

the wave smashed my ship. Returning is the

honorable thing to do."

It was, but Bogle hadn't realized the

Klingons would feel that way. There was so little that he

really knew about them. "We'll rendezvous after we

drop off the survivors on Starbase Eleven,"

Bogle said.

"I shall leave you a time and place," KerDaq

said. His image winked off the screen.

"I was supposed to say that," Bogle muttered.

But it didn't matter. They had agreed. And if

KerDaq understood the word "honor" the way Bogle

did, they would set up a rendezvous and return for the

Enterprise.

"Mr. Rodriguez," Bogle said. "Full

speed to Starbase Eleven. Engage when ready."

Then Bogle returned to his chair and

sank into it heavily. Lee stepped past a group of

survivors to stand beside Bogle. "Well, Mister

Lee," Bogle said, "when Kirk's involved, the

universe is never a dull place."

Lee laughed. "I think that's an

understatement, Captain."

"You know, Mr. Lee," Bogle said, smiling

to himself, "I believe you're right."

Chapter Thirty-Three

PRESCOTT WAS TUCKED under the

console, her knees against her chin and her arms

trapped at her sides. She had braced herself as

well as she could, but even that was not well enough. She

was nauseated and

terrified and angry at herself for the first two

emotions, and for causing this mess in the first place.

The ship was rocking like a Tauteean Silksail

in a hurricane. People were being tossed all over the

ship. Lieutenant Uhura fell against

Prescott's console. Mister Sulu tumbled off

his chair. Mister Chekov flew through the air like a

ball thrown by a child.

Only Mister Spock held his ground, as if

by magic.

The clang and clatter was terrifying, and beneath 225

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

it was the rumble of the ship herself, as if she were

screaming in protest.

Even the moon's breakup had not been this

violent. They had said this would be worse, but she

hadn't imagined anything this bad.

Apparently her imagination hadn't been good enough.

Then Captain James Kirk flew out of his

chair. He looked graceful for a moment,

tumbling feet over forehead, as if he had

intended to fall all along. The illusion was

shattered, though, when he slammed into Mister

Chekov's console. He brought a hand up,

moaned, and collapsed.

The shaking stopped.

All except the shaking inside.

Lieutenant Uhura stood first. She staggered as

if she couldn't quite get her balance, then made her

way back to her chair. Mister Chekov moaned and

grabbed his arm. Mister Spock

helped one of the crewmen out from under a nearby

console.

No one, apparently, had noticed

Captain James Kirk.

Prescott crawled quickly on hands and knees

under the rail and down to where Captain

James Kirk lay sprawled beside the navigation

console. He had a massive cut along the top of

his head which seemed to be bleeding a river of dark red

blood.

Mister Chekov, still clutching his arm, hurried

down the stairs beside her. He knelt near the

console, let go of his arm, and pressed his hand against

Captain James Kirk's neck.

"He's alive," Mister Chekov said. ""But

I don't know for how long."

Tl1Every RINGS OF TAUTEE

Mister Sulu punched a comm-link button

while Prescott and Mister Chekov worked to stop

the blood from flowing. "Dr. McCoy to the

bridge," Mister Sulu said.

Behind her Prescott heard Spock say,

"Mister Scott, I need a status report."

Obviously this crew was well trained. Even with their

leader injured, they went on.

Captain James Kirk moaned, but didn't

regain consciousness. She carefully

eased his head into her lap and used her sleeve to stop

the blood flow from the gash on his head. She had

reached an understanding with this man. They had communicated

one leader to another. He had helped her. She would

be able to move forward because of him.

He couldn't die.

Not here, not now.

Not after they'd been through so much.

Mister Sulu dropped down beside them with what

appeared to be a device similar to the one Dr.

Leonard McCoy used. Mister Sulu ran it

quickly over Captain James Kirk, then used

another setting on the device to stop the blood

flow. The cut stopped bleeding and then closed as if

by miracle.

Then Mister Sulu turned to Spock. "He's

got a slight concussion. I don't know how serious

it is, but he'll live." Then Mister Sulu

smiled. "I'm just glad I'm not going to have the

headache."

Prescott felt relief run through her. These people

were like magicians. Their technology was so advanced

that it was beyond her.

Everything they did was a miracle.

Including saving their leader as if his

injury were 227

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

routine instead of life-threatening. A Tauteean

who had suffered that much blood loss away from a

medical facility would probably have died.

"Return to your posts," Spock said. "I need

a ship's status report, since Mister Scott

is not re- sponding."

Just then the comm line buzzed. "Scott

to bridge."

"Go ahead, Mister Scott," Spock said.

Prescott marveled at the man's calm even in the

face of this disaster. Didn't he have any emotions?

"The old girl took quite a pounding, Mister

Spock," Mister Scott said. Mister Scott's

voice sounded excited and he seemed winded. "All

en- gines are off-line and will be for some time. She's

suffered so much damage, I doubt I can fix her in

a week. But she made it, Mister Spock. She

survived just fine. She's a marvelous lassie,

she is."

"Yes, she is," Spock said dryly, as if

he were humoring Mister Scott. "What is the

status of lifesupport? Our bridge

lights are still dim."

"Well, sir, the bridge lights and

life-support are two separate systems, even

though they're part of the environmental controls."

"I realise this, Mister Scott," Spock

said. "That is why I specifically asked about

life-support."

"All decks have full life-support,"

Mister Scott said, as if it were obvious.

Prescott grinned, and put her head down so that no

one could see her. "And structurally the Enterprise

is fine. We're just stuck here for a while."

"Thank you, Mister Scott," Spock said.

He 228

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

punched the intercom button as if it had

annoyed him.

That was the first hint of emotion that Prescott had

seen him display.

"It seems," Spock said, turning and glancing

down at Captain James Kirk in

Prescott's arms, "that we beat the odds again."

Prescott looked up at Spock. "I think

beating the odds would be an understatement for me and my

people."

Spock's eyebrow lifted, as he were actually

calculating the odds she had just mentioned. For all she

knew, he was.

She didn't want to know what they were.

And she wasn't sure she ever wanted to.

Chapter Thirty-four

THE BLACKNESS SLOWLY EASED,

replaced by light and a stabbing pain in the side of his

head.

Kirk moaned, then blinked[*thorngg'or

attempted to. His eyes felt gummed shut.

His ribs ached. He was still sprawled on the

deck[*thorngg'he recognised its hardness against

his back[*thorngg'b someone was holding his head.

Cra- dling it, in fact. The fingers on the side of

his face were as light as feathers.

He wanted to stay in the darkness, but he couldn't.

He had things to do. He couldn't quite remember what,

but he knew he would when he opened his eyes.

He moaned again, and blinked. This time his eyelids

fluttered.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

Blurry faces hovered above him, and

behind them light. Painful light.

He blinked again and his eyes focused on

Prescott's tiny features. She smiled.

"Welcome back, Captain James Kirk."

"About time you woke up." McCoy's loud,

grating voice seemed to echo around the pain inside his

head.

"Ow," Kirk said.

McCoy laughed. That sound was even more

unpleasant than his voice. Why hadn't Kirk

no- ticed that before?

"The headache will go away shortly," McCoy

said.

"Could you please lower your voice, Doctor?"

Kirk asked.

Above him Prescott laughed. Maybe the

doctor hadn't really been talking that loud.

The headache receded a bit. The rest of his

memory gathered together. He remembered the

subspace wave. "Am I the only one who was

injured?" he asked.

"I wish," McCoy said.

Kirk pushed himself into a sitting position with the

help of Prescott. "The wave. Did it

damage the ship?"

He barely got the words out before the room spun and

he had to close his eyes against the pain. Then, after a

moment it eased and he opened them again. Now the room

was only

spinning slowly. And as he focused, it stopped.

He had been Iying on the floor near the

naviga231

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

lion station. Prescott was sitting beside him, and

McCoy knelt above him.

"We survived the wave, Captain," Spock

said from somewhere beyond Kirk's range of vision.

"Well, if he's asking about the ship, he's

fine," McCoy said. He peered at Kirk. "I

have about five hundred patients who need me and it's

clear you don't anymore." He stood and headed

for the lift door. He stopped just inside a nd stuck his

head back out. "Captain, I'd tell you

to report to sickbay, but I don't have room for you.

And I'd tell you to rest in your quarters, but we

don't have room for you there either. So against doctor's

best judgment, you can stay on duty."

McCoy stepped back and the turbolift doors

whooshed closed over the sound of light

laughter.

Prescott and Sulu both helped Kirk to his

feet and to his command chair. Sitting on the hard

padding hurt even worse this time. He had to have

bruises over half his body.

"How long was I out?" he asked, bringing a hand

to his forehead. A lump had grown there.

"About an hour, sir," Sulu said. "It took

Dr. McCoy that long to reach the bridge."

Kirk raised his head gingerly. He remembered

the tossing and bucking.

Barely.

"Is it that bad below?"

Sulu nodded. "Yes, sir."

Kirk forced himself to take two deep breaths, then

swiveled slowly to face Spock. Might as well

get back to work.

Doctor's orders.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"What's our status, Mister Spock?"

Spock nodded at him, and Kirk thought he saw

the ghost of a smile flit across Spock's lips.

Then Spock clasped his hands behind his back and

looked as serious as ever.

"Life-support is fully functional,

Captain. The hull came through the event without

major damage. All shields are at forty

percent. Both the warp engines and impulse power are

off-line."

"For how long?)"'

"To quote Chief Engineer Scott, sir,

"We ain't going nowhere fast." I believe those

were his exact words."

For a moment Kirk couldn't believe what he had

just heard. Then he started laughing. "I would hope

so, Mr. Spock."

And the rest of the bridge crew laughed too. Their

laughter made Kirk laugh harder. And the more he

laughed, the more his head hurt. But it was a good hurt

this time.

Captain's log, supplemental

The Enterprise has remained in this position for

almost two days while Chief Engineer Scott and

his crew effect repairs. The ship was damaged in

a huge subspace wave created

when the Enterprise, the Farragut, and two

Klingon vessels destroyed the rift in the

Tautee system.

The Klingons, led by KerDaq, rescued

survivors of

the Tautee disaster and, following the

suggestion of Captain Kelly Bogle of the

U.s.s. Farragut, took them to Starbase

11. Then the Klingon ships and the Farragut, now

empty, returned to the Enterprise. 233

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

Bogle tells me this was KerDaq's idea.

If I had heard that from anyone but Bogle, I would

think it hyperbole. But Bogle does

not exaggerate, especially when it comes

to Klingons.

I do not expect a friendly interaction with

KerDaq, but I am surprised at the amount

of courtesy the Klingons have shown so

far. If this incident is any indication of the

future, the Federation and the Klingons

may well be able to work together

someday.

The damage sustained during that last

wave affected the warp engines most

severely. Chief Engineer Scott is working

to bring the warp drive back up on-line.

The Farragut's science officer,

Richard

Lee, is assisting in the final stages of

getting the warp drive on-line. I am also

transferring half the Tauteean refugees to the

Farragut to give us more room on the

return to Starbase 11.

Between the four ships, we managed to

rescue over two thousand survivors. Most

of those beamed up to the Enterprise

were wounded. Several more were injured

in the impact with the final subspace

wave. It should be noted that Dr. Leonard

McCoy and his staff have done an

outstanding job over the last forty-eight hours.

Working in primitive conditions,

with limited resources, McCoy and his

team saved almost every life in their care. I

recommend that a special

commendation be attached to McCoy's

file.

Prescott, the leader of one group of

Tauteean survivors, was instrumental in

helping us close the rift in space. She and the

remaining Tautee survivors 234

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

will be treated on Starbase 11 and then will be sent

with supplies and Eederation personnel to settle a

new world. I expect in a few hundred years

the

Tauteeans will be full and proud members of the

Federation.

"Captain." Uhura's voice broke through

Kirk's concentration on his log. He punched the

Off button and turned to her.

She sat in her usual position, hand to her ear,

legs tucked behind her chair. Her eyes were wide,

as if the message had startled her. "KerDaq is

hailing you."

"Put it on screen," Kirk said. He

swiveled his chair so that he faced the screen

directly.

KerDaq sat in his own command chair, arms

crossed, steel bracelets glinting in the odd

green light. "Kirk, I see you have found a way

to survive yet again."

Kirk laughed. "I do my best." Then he let

the smile ease off his face. He had to handle this

next carefully. But he had to say it, even if he

did not know the Klingon way. "I am glad that you

returned to help us. Thank you."

KerDaq spit in disgust on the floor. "You

saved my crew when the subspace wave

destroyed our ship. I did not return out of

kindness. I owed you, Kirk. Now the debt is

paid." He smiled "Besides, I would not give you the

honor of dying to save thousands. Only a Klingon

deserves such honor."

"Understood," Kirk said, smiling.

KerDaq smiled, too.

Dean Wesiey Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

Prescott stepped forward beside Kirk and looked

up for permission to speak. He glanced at her and

nodded.

"KerDaq," Prescott said, "my people thank you,

too."

KerDaq leaned forward until his face filled the

screen. "You are sentimental fools. You will fit

well with the Federation. It too is full of

sentimental fools."

Then the screen went dark.

"He cut off communication, sir," Uhura said.

"I gathered that, Lieutenant."

The screen flickered back to life to show

the two Klingon cruisers turning and jumping to warp.

"What did I say wrong?" Prescott said.

"I hope I didn't[*thorn]"

Kirk laughed and touched her thin, frail shoulder.

"You did nothing wrong. It was just the Klingon way of

saying, "You're welcome.""

Prescott shook her head. "This is a strange

universe we live in. It will take some getting

used to it."

"Yes," Kirk said, dropping down into his

chair. "Yes, it will."

Epilogue

THE CARGO HOLD would never be the same

for McCoy and he half wished he'd never have

to return to it. The Tauteean survivors had been

off the Enterprise now for three days and the ship had

been undergoing repairs at

Starbase Eleven. And he had been spending most

of the last three days working on the Starbase with the

medical staff, tending to what seemed to be thousands of

wounded survivors. He hadn't realised he could be

so tired and still move. Somehow his body wasn't quite

ready to rest yet.

As he approached the cargo bay he could

hear laughing. The last time he'd been in this

corridor it had been littered with the injured

survivors. He tried to force that picture out of his

mind, but didn't have much luck.

That picture would be with him for a long, long time.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

The door to the cargo bay were locked open in

front of him and he stepped inside. Since the

survivors had left, the bay had been cleaned and

he couldn't even tell it had been used for a huge

sickbay just a few short days before. There was no

blood and no smell of rotting flesh.

No injured bodies.

No ruined legs.

No gangrene.

The cargo bay as it had been before McCoy had

even heard of Tautee.

A large monitor was in place between two huge

machines again and an ensign wore the helmet.

Scatty had his projectors working again. And it

looked as if, even with all the time spent getting the

Enterprise back in shape, he'd also managed

to find the time to get his projectors working

right. How that man did it, McCoy would never know.

"Come in, Doctor," Kirk yelled from across the

bay, smiling and motioning for McCoy to join the party.

"We're celebrating a mission wellcompleted."

"Actually, Captain," Spock said from a

position halfway between Kirk and McCoy,

"there are still many items of business that must be

attended to."

Kirk waved Spock's statement away.

"Mister Spock, there must always be a point where a

mission is declared finished."

Spock frowned, obviously from the illogic of

Kirk's statement and McCoy found his spirits

suddenly starting to lift. Anything that would annoy

Mister Spock and break through that stone-like exterior was

fine by him.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

About twenty people filled the area where the cargo deck

left off end Scotty's huge machines took

up. Sulu and Chekov were laughing about something with two

women ensigns from the starbase. Scatty was complaining

about a table someone had set too close to one of his

machines. On the table sat a large cake and a

vast supply of wine. Someone had spared

no expense for this party, that was for sure.

Kirk was standing near the table. He laughed at

Spock's reaction, then turned back to a discussion

he had obviously been having with Captain Bogle

of the Farragut. McCoy was

amazed Bogle was even speaking to Kirk after

Kirk dumped all those extra survivors on

him. Kirk and Bogle had exchanged harsh words

about gambling with lives and being too caught up in

rules. But Admiral Hoffman had pointed out that

both sides were important.

And had to work together.

Then she had settled it all by siding with Kirk

on the Prime Directive issue, but giving

Bogle a commendation for staying within Starfleet

guidelines.

So both men shook hands, buried the hatchet and

participated in all other cliches. Then they had

played an all-night game of poker, with Kirk

bluffing and Bogle playing strictly by the rules.

Then, from what McCoy understood, Bogle had

gone in the next day and asked to be

assigned to the vacant seat on Starileet's

Plans and Policy commission. If his transfer was

accepted, McCoy knew Bogle would work

hard to tighten up the Prime 239

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

Directive. In fact, McCoy bet that after

this inci- dent, it would be Bogle's main focus.

Who knew how tight the rule would be in eighty or

so years.

But, for the moment, Kirk and Bogle seemed to be

friends again. As much as those two very different men could be

friends.

McCoy had heard all of this while he had been

working with the survivors. If he never saw an

infected wound again he would be extremely happy.

He was glad that the starbaseshad more medical

personnel than a starship, or else he would never

have gotten any sleep.

But the most important thing was that the Tauteean

race survived with enough people to start over on a new

planet.

McCoy took a drink offered by the science

officer of the Farragut, Mister Lee.

"Mister Spock," Scotty said, loud enough for

everyone to hear. "How would you like to be the very first to try

my new course?"

"Golf is not a logical game,

Mister Scott," Spock said.

"It is if you're from Scotland, laddy,"

Scott said and everyone laughed.

For a moment the buzz of conversation filled the cargo

deck. McCoy moved over to where Chief Engineer

Scott stood beside one of his machines like a father

watching over a young child.

"Doctor," Scotty said. "What do ya think

now?" He waved his hand at the beautiful green showing

on the monitor. There were even a few white clouds

floating in the deep blue sky.

THE RINGS OF TAUTEE

"Wonderful," McCoy said, really meaning it.

"But how'd you get it to work?"

Scotty pointed to a brown-haired man

standing twenty feet away beside the other

projector. "Mister Projeff Ellis, the

chief engineer of the Farragut, helped me. With him

on one machine and me on the other, we got the

lassies to finally balance. And ya know, he agrees

that someday this might be possible without a helmet."

"Great," McCoy said, staring at the monitor

full of an expanse of green grass and trees and

blue sky. Maybe Scotty had a

point. Maybe this new invention would be good to have around.

As long as people didn't take it too seriously.

"And you know, Doctor," Scott went on.

"Pro- jeff loves golf as much as I do.

Says he plays every time he gets a chance. He

must have Scotsman in his blood."

"That he must, Scotty," McCoy said.

"All right, everyone," Kirk's voice drowned

out the background buzz of talking and

laughing. "It's time for a toast." He held up

his glass and waited until everyone found one and was

quiet.

Lieutenant Uhura handed McCoy a fresh

glass of wine and McCoy held it aloft,

waiting for the toast.

"To Captain Bogle and his fine crew," Kirk

said, his voice ringing through the room. "To my wonderful

crew. To the Klingons for helping. And most of all

to the Tauteean survivors. May they flourish in

their new home."

With that he and Captain Bogle touched

glasses and drank.

Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine Kathryn

Rusch

"Hear! Hear!" the crowd shouted, raising their

glasses together in toast.

With that sip of smooth-tasting wine, McCoy could

feel the ghosts of the injured and dead survivors being

pushed back into the past where they belonged. He could

feel his body relaxing and the exhaustion creeping

up. Billions of lives had been lost in the

Tautee system, but

somehow, he found a sense of fulfillment in the

fact that the Enterprise, the Farragut, and the

Klingon ships had saved enough lives for the Tautee

race to continue. He felt good that he was a part of

such a rescue.

But it was now time to do as Scotty had done with the

cargo bay. McCoy had to clear the decks and

move on. Besides, he had a medical experiment he

needed to finish. Right after he took a very long nap.

McCoy glanced out over at the golf course on

the monitor between the machines. What a

peaceful place it seemed. He felt as if he

wanted to just walk out there and keep walking. Maybe,

when he took his next leave, he'd play a round

of golf.

"Now," Kirk said, his voice carrying over the

talking. "I expect this party to last all

night."

Spock gave the captain a sour look and

McCoy laughed. The longer it lasted, the better.

That sounded perfect. Even Spock's doleful

expression was perfect.

Especially Spock's doleful expression.

McCoy grinned. This was the best party he could

remember attending in a long, long time.

242 When Dean Wesley Smith and Kristine

Kathryn Rusch met at a writing workshop in

New Mexico, they already had a few publishing

credentials to their names. Dean had sold over a

hundred poems and short stories to The Twilight

Zone, Night Cry, and Writers of the Future,

Vol. 1. Kris had sold more nonfiction than

she could count and stories to Aboriginal SF and

Amazing Stories. Their writing careers flourished

after their romance started. Dean has sold over

sixty short stories and seven novels, including

Carnage in New York and Laying the Music

to Rest. Kris doesn't count the short-story

sales any more than she-counted the nonfiction, but she

has sold eleven novels. The most recent are

The Fey Sacrifice (bantam) and The

Devil's Churn (dell).

Dean and Kris collaborated on a publishing

company, Pulphouse Publishing. That joint

venture has brought them one World Fantasy

Award, another nomination, a Hugo nomination, and a

house full of books (including numerous copies

of The Best of Pulphouse, from St. Martin's

Press). Kris has stopped editing for

Pulphouse, and now edits The Magazine of

Fantasy and Science Fiction (for which she won the

Hugo award in 1994). Dean publishes all the

Pulphouse products and edits Pulphouse A

Fiction Magazine.

In 1991, they started to collaborate on

fiction. "Model Lover," their first attempt,

appeared in Ghosttide. Another collaborative

story appeared in the Twilight Zone Anthology

from DAW. Their most recent collaboration is in the

Star Trek. Deep Space Nine series The

Long Night. Pocket Books also published their

collaborative novels The Escape (in the

Voyager series) and, under the pen name Sandy

Schofield, The Big Game (in the Deep

Space Nine series). They, under their own names and

under Sandy's name, have several more novels in the works.

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