Identity Theft, page 22
All in, he thought. No half measures.
He wiped more gunk off his visor with the back of his glove before checking in with Sulu, mostly just to hear another voice.
“Chekov to Copernicus. Can you still read me?”
* * *
“Loud and more or less clear, thanks to you.”
Sulu sat at the cockpit controls, Tovar beside him, while McCoy and the Yarfites hovered in the hatchway behind them, everyone still in their EV suits and holding on to their helmets. The shuttlecraft’s comm system had more capacity and range than their handheld personal communicators and helmet comms, so they relied on it to keep in touch with Chekov and the Enterprise now that the buoy was in place and operational. He relished the sound of his friend’s voice coming over the line. Chekov had gone ominously silent after exiting Copernicus earlier; the wait to hear if he’d successfully made it up from the deep had been hard on everyone’s nerves. More than once, Sulu had been tempted to go looking for him.
“How are you managing?” he asked.
“Haven’t been electrocuted by a hostile jelly for a while, so there’s that,” Chekov responded. “I could ask you the same.”
“Don’t,” Sulu said. “We can compare notes once we’re back where we belong, in much more comfortable accommodations.”
In fact, conditions aboard Copernicus were steadily deteriorating, despite their best efforts to conserve power and maintain life-support. They had largely succeeded in flushing the interior of the shuttlecraft after Chekov’s departure, although puddles of murky liquid made the deck slippery, and muddy yellow sediment had clung to every surface, requiring strenuous efforts to wipe the seats and bulkheads clean. A harsh, sulfurous odor suffused the already stale and sweaty air within both cockpit and cabin. Sulu had attempted to confiscate Fressa’s vaporizer, but she had argued, not entirely unconvincingly, that the scented fumes helped relieve the general miasma; in the end, Sulu had not contested the point, concluding that the vaporizer’s value in keeping the testy Yarfite pacified outweighed whatever marginal impact it had on their overall situation and chances. It wasn’t as though a few stray puffs were going to tip the scales one way or another.
Undersea moonquakes continued to shake Copernicus, the jarring tremors increasing in both strength and frequency, placing additional strain on the already beleaguered hull. A worrisome bulge on the aft hatchway looked slightly larger every time Sulu looked at it, while apportioning power between the shields and life-support had become a delicate balancing act that was at best only buying them a little more time. The emergency lights in the passenger cabin were dimming as he prioritized keeping the cockpit controls and display panels lit. Artificial gravity had been switched off entirely, so only Wexx’s much weaker gravity kept their feet planted on the deck and provided a sense of up and down. The reduced gravity made Sulu feel slightly “bouncy” and off-balance.
“At this point, a packed cargo bay would feel comfy by comparison,” Chekov replied. “Or even a Jefferies tube.”
“Pretty sure we can do better than that. I’m thinking drinks by the swimming pool.”
Tovar leaned in toward the comm receiver. Perspiration shone upon her face as the temperature inside the shuttle steadily rose. “Works for me. I’ll take a large Finagle’s Folly or two.”
“Nyet on the pool. I’ve had enough waves and splashing around to last me all the way to Voyzr.”
“Can’t imagine why,” Sulu quipped. “Seriously, though, we all owe you, big time. I see a commendation in your future.”
“It was the least I could do, considering.”
“Nothing least about it,” Tovar said. “We’re talking above and beyond in my book.”
Sulu couldn’t agree more. Chekov may not have been himself lately, for reasons Sulu couldn’t quite fathom, but he had definitely come through when it counted, just as he always had before.
That was the Pavel Chekov he’d known for decades now. The one he was proud to call his friend.
* * *
“Incoming!” Novak called out from the nav station, her eyes fixed on the tactical display. “Plume coming on fast!”
A sky-high column of superheated rock, ash, and gas slammed into the Enterprise at thousands of kilometers per hour. The volcanic cloud briefly obscured the viewscreen before being dispelled by the deflectors. The impact jarred the bridge even through the shields as the ship powered through the spreading, umbrella-shaped plume. A data slate vibrated off an auxiliary duty station behind Kirk, clattering onto the deck. Microtapes rattled in the tape holder on the right armrest of Kirk’s chair. Uhura’s earpiece was shaken loose, but she caught it before it hit the deck.
“Status?” Kirk demanded.
“Shields holding.” Novak held on tightly to the nav panel. “Only fractional loss of strength.”
“Putting the plume in our rearview sensors,” Miller said. “Continuing descent toward equatorial sea.”
“All departments checking in.” Uhura refastened her earpiece. “No major damage or injuries reported.”
“Acknowledged.”
Kirk was relieved to hear that the Enterprise had come through the plume unscathed, mostly. Still, he didn’t want to subject the ship to many more such blasts, before or while they lowered their shields to beam the landing party to safety. And then there was the brewing super-eruption to consider; from what Spock had said, they didn’t want to be anywhere near Wexx’s surface when that occurred.
Was he making the right call here? He couldn’t help questioning his decision to proceed with the rescue mission, even while judiciously hiding any doubts from the crew. Was it fair to risk the lives of four-hundred-plus men, women, and beings to try to save seven lives that would otherwise be lost? Even Spock couldn’t foretell exactly when the super-eruption was going to hit. For all they knew, the Enterprise was only moments away from destruction.
Then again, the Enterprise was no pleasure cruiser, loaded with innocent civilians counting on a safe voyage. Every member of Kirk’s crew had accepted the risks when they joined Starfleet and accepted a post aboard this ship. They knew they would be facing danger and that their survival was not guaranteed, just as they needed to know that their captain would not abandon them if there was any chance of saving them.
We’re not out here to play it safe.
“How much longer, Helmsman?”
“Leveling out at six hundred meters above the surface,” Miller reported. “Circling above crash site. Thrusters on full.”
Only six hundred meters, Kirk mused. Way too close to a moon that is erupting all across its face… and building toward an apocalyptic explosion.
“All right,” he said. “Here’s where things get complicated.” He turned toward Miller, who had already engaged the telescoping targeting scanner at the helm. “Fire up the tractor beam.”
Twenty-Eight
Ryjo had to admire the audacity of Kirk’s plan: to bring the Enterprise low enough to lock onto Copernicus with a tractor beam and drag it to the surface, despite the sizable challenge of employing a tractor beam through large quantities of liquid instead of the vacuum of space. At that point both the starship and the shuttlecraft would simultaneously drop their shields long enough for Mister Scott to attempt to beam everyone off Wexx at last, with the buoy making it possible to lock onto the communicators in their helmets, both Starfleet and Yarfite. Preferably before another volcano or moonquake did Copernicus in for good.
All because Kirk had not given up on them, just as Sulu and McCoy predicted.
He’s loyal to his own people, I’ll give him that.
Even if he’s no friend to mine.
He listened in as Uhura’s voice came over the link: “Enterprise to Copernicus. We are in position above you.”
Ryjo tilted back his head and wiped his visor with his glove, irrationally hoping to spy the Enterprise high in the sky, but of course all he saw was smoke, clouds, and a blizzard of ash falling down on him, fouling his visor again. He had to take Uhura’s word for it that the Enterprise was here to save them.
If they could.
“Proceeding according to plan,” she said. “Brace for tractor beam.”
But could the shuttlecraft’s already compromised hull withstand the force of the tractor beam and the stress of the ascent? That was the question that worried Ryjo and seemingly Kirk as well. Ideally, Copernicus would drop its shields now to allow the tractor beam to get a better grip on the sunken vessel, but instead Copernicus had been instructed to keep its fraying shields in place, reinforcing the hull, until it was securely above the waves. Even so, Ryjo wasn’t fully convinced that the shuttlecraft would hold together that long. The bulkheads had been threatening to buckle even before he’d exited Copernicus, and that had been nearly two hours ago. Phantom antlers that couldn’t actually fit inside his helmet ached to be scratched or rubbed against a post.
He prayed this hadn’t all been in vain.
“Ready when you are, Enterprise,” Sulu responded. “We’re in your tender— Whoa, you feel that?”
A thunderous rumble, coming over the link, drowned him out.
Another tremor?
Now?
“Sulu!” Ryjo shouted. “What is it? “What’s happen—?”
Before he could finish, a surging wave washed over him with seismic force, dislodging his grip on the buoy and sweeping him away from it. Waves buffeted him, carrying him under and tossing him about. He groped for the cable connecting him to the buoy, then felt it tug sharply on him, yanking him back.
Don’t snap! Please don’t snap!
As ever, the quake-driven surge lasted only a few endless moments before subsiding. Panting inside his helmet, he kicked his way to the surface, where the crashing waves were once again only fierce, not overpowering. Grabbing onto the cable with both hands, he pulled himself back toward the buoy, while trying frantically to contact Copernicus to make sure Sulu and the rest were still okay. Was the tether still secured to the seabed? If it had been shaken loose by this latest quake, he and the buoy could be swept away from the shuttlecraft, making it harder for the Enterprise to lock onto Copernicus.
“Sulu, Copernicus, can you hear me? Please respond!”
No one answered.
“Enterprise? Chekov to Enterprise?” Still no responses. “No, no, no…”
Had they all lost contact with each other? On the bright side, that implied the problem wasn’t simply that Copernicus had gone dead, with all the ghastly possibilities that raised, since the Enterprise was silent too, and they wouldn’t have been knocked offline by an underwater quake, which suggested that maybe something had happened to…
The buoy!
Hand over gloved hand, he dragged himself through the pounding waves and heavy, clinging sludge until he reached the equally mud-encrusted device—and discovered that, despite the tether, it had been flipped over by the seismic surge.
“Ordure!”
Clearly, the buoy wasn’t working upside-down, with the primary antenna dish submerged and out of alignment. Ryjo blamed himself for allowing the tether a little too much slack. This wasn’t good; the whole plan depended on all parties being able to communicate and coordinate with each other, and Scott needed the signal enhancer to lock onto the landing party and the Yarfites despite all the ash and interference in the atmosphere. Furthermore, just to make matters worse, the buoy was already starting to sink beneath the weight of the ashfall again, and Ryjo couldn’t get at the antigrav controls to compensate for the extra mass. If worst came to worst, he would have to unclip himself from the buoy to avoid being dragged down with it.
Unless I fix this.
He seized the flotation ring, which was mercifully still intact. Heaving with all the strength left in Chekov’s maddeningly middle-aged, merely human body, he tried to flip the buoy back over, but he couldn’t get any leverage with his feet dangling underwater instead of braced against something solid. Kicking and splashing like a panicked waterfowl wasn’t doing any good, while his heavy boots felt like rutting anchors…
My boots! My levitation boots!
They were his only chance, if the booster rockets still had enough juice for one more liftoff.
“Voice command! Ignite boosters!”
The boots fired, thrusting him upward with force enough that he was able to flip the buoy back into the correct orientation. He instantly switched off the boosters to avoid shooting up into the sky, dragging the buoy behind him. As it was, both the cable binding him to the buoy and the tether anchoring the buoy to the seabed were tested severely before he splashed down into the waves, briefly sinking below the surface, before swimming back up to the buoy. He scrambled to dial up the antigrav units, then rebooted the comlinks.
“Copernicus, Enterprise! Can either of you hear me now?”
Uhura replied at once: “We read you, Chekov. We lost you for a few minutes, but we have you back. Copernicus?”
“Ready and waiting,” Sulu answered. “Bring us home.”
* * *
“Helmets on, everyone!” Sulu called out. “And strap yourselves in. This could be a bumpy ride!”
“Oh, joy,” McCoy said. “Just when I was getting comfortable.”
Bulkheads keened in distress. Sulu swallowed hard and gave Copernicus’s dashboard an encouraging pat.
Hang on just a little longer.
The shuttlecraft shook, much as it had during each new quake, but this time Sulu felt Copernicus rise from the seabed, captured by the tractor beam. The pilot in him would have preferred to lift off under their own power, with him in control of their ascent, but they were all just passengers now. The Enterprise was calling the shots.
“Hang tight,” he said over his helmet comm, as much to himself as to the others. “We’re in good hands.”
As long as they don’t squeeze us too hard.
* * *
Clinging to the buoy like a space-suited barnacle, Ryjo watched wide-eyed as a shimmering blue curtain of light shone down from above, turning the mustard-colored clouds purplish as it passed through them on its way to spotlighting the frenzied yellow waves no more than fifty meters away from him. He had to admire the precision of whoever was aiming the tractor beam, targeting Copernicus while carefully skirting both Ryjo and the buoy. A concentrated stream of gravitons penetrated the tossing surface of the waters in search of the stranded shuttlecraft more than a thousand meters below.
I never realized before just how beautiful a tractor beam can be.
Another stony chunk of volcanic debris splashed down in the distance, increasing his anxiety. He kept telling himself that the odds of an ejected volcano fragment crashing into the sea exactly where he was floating were comparable to winning the jackpot at a crooked casino in Jhopash, but it would be just like fate to flatten him when he was on the verge of rescue. Somehow knowing that escape was almost at hand only made the possibility all the more nerve-racking.
Maybe he should have let the Enterprise beam him up first?
Then, right where the tractor beam was focused, a churning fountain of purplish froth heralded the sight he had been waiting for. Copernicus rose from the depths, breaking through the waves. In the rippling blue glow of the tractor beam, the much-abused shuttlecraft looked as though it had been through the wars, its once-gleaming hull scorched and battered and coated with gunk. The trashed starboard nacelle was nothing but scrap metal and pulverized coils, conduits, and circuitry. Not even the shuttle’s name was visible beneath all the damage.
But it wasn’t stuck at the bottom of the sea anymore!
* * *
“We did it!” Sulu announced, monitoring their ascent via the altimeter on the control panel. What was left of the external sensors confirmed that Copernicus was now surrounded by air, not liquid. Toxic air, to be sure, but air nonetheless. “We’re out of the drink!”
And just in time.
Cheers and laughter greeted the news. Tovar high-fived him from the copilot’s seat. Fressa blew celebratory smoke circles toward the ceiling, while Dipelly applauded.
“Hallelujah,” McCoy said. “Never thought I’d find myself pining for a good old-fashioned transporter beam.”
“Don’t forget!” Bwoj bounced up and down in his seat. “The buoy was my idea! If I hadn’t thought—”
The bulging aft hatchway caved in, admitting a rush of swirling ashes and gas, and setting off a cascading structural collapse. Screaming bulkheads gave way, twisting and shearing away from each other. The ceiling lurched downward, causing Sulu to duck his head instinctively. All at once he felt like a sacrificial probe being crushed by the gravitational forces of a singularity it had been sent to explore. The deck buckled beneath his feet. White-hot sparks sprayed from the control panel.
“Copernicus!” Scotty’s unmistakable burr issued from the speaker. “Lower your shields at once!”
* * *
Ryjo watched in horror as Copernicus crumpled before his eyes, its wounded hull succumbing to the force of a tractor beam powerful enough to raise it from the deep. Moments later, the sublime blue radiance vanished, leaving behind a mangled mass of compacted wreckage that foundered briefly before sinking out of sight… for all time?
