Claws 20

Ronnie

"Which-what, again?" I demand.

"Enantiomers," Tylha repeats with a sigh. I hate it when people use words like that at me before I've had my coffee. Or after, come to that. "The molecule comes in two different versions, and they're mirror images of each other. The processing plant splits them apart. Like taking pairs of gloves, and separating them into a pile of right gloves and a pile of left ones."

"Sounds fascinating." Well, it sounds like a complete waste of time to me, but what do I know? "So what's it all in aid of?"

"That, we don't know, yet. But Nejje says the overlord's tower is nearby, so we're planning to reconnoitre that - once Rrueo's finished cleaning herself up, of course." Oh, I would so like to have seen Buxton get herself gunged. Never mind.

"Waitaminute. A tower? How come we didn't spot it from orbit? How come Juregh didn't, come to that? He was looking for a seat of government, wasn't he?"
  
"I was wondering about that myself," says Tylha. "According to Nejje, it's only there sometimes - which I find just a little bit worrying. Rrueo was muttering something about that making sense, while she was going off to wash herself. That Ferasan knows more than she's telling us, and it's bothering her. I wish I could find some way of getting her to talk."

"Yeah, the Klinks definitely have stuff on their minds. What else do you have going on down there?"

"Rrueo seems to have take a fancy to one of my officers... so I'm going to let him do some legwork with her, while I deal with the detail stuff. This colony's got a history - actually, two histories. A conventional one, and one written in advance by this book of prophecy."

"I hope you can stand the excitement," I say.

"I'll be digging into the engineering of the chemical works, too. But we need to get a handle on these records. We still haven't found anything that matches the glyphs at Duselva WX, for instance. There ought to be something in the written records which gives us some clues...."

"Yeah. Well." I look at the viewscreen, at the enigmatic form of the Chloe in the middle of it. "Clues seem to be in pretty short supply right now."

"You haven't found anything on the derelict?"

"No trace of occupancy at all. Logs are all blank... it's like she came fresh from the shipyard."

Over the link, I hear Tylha sigh. "Keep at it. I'm going to get my teams organized - and talk to Nejje about how to find the tower. Speak to you later. Shohl out."

The comms link goes dead. I lean forward, studying the Chloe intently. It can't be the same ship. I know it can't....

"Sir." Leo Madena's voice. "I've got a subspace signal coming in from the USS Tapiola."

I turn to look at him. "USS Tapiola? Do we know them?... OK, put it through. I don't think I owe them money."

The ship's name is unfamiliar - but the face on the viewer, when it appears, is one I do know; sharp-featured, red-haired and Vulcan. "T'Pia. Yo. What happened? I thought your ship was, what was it, the Kyllikki?"

"Vice Admiral Grau." I love these warm Vulcan greetings. "The Kyllikki is still undergoing repairs to the battle damage sustained in the defence of Andoria." T'Pia's Nebula-class science cruiser took one heck of a pounding from the Hegemony fleet during that particular scrap, fair enough. "I have transferred my flag to the USS Tapiola, and it is aboard this vessel that I and my survey team are following up on a report of yours."

"A report of mine?"

"We are currently in orbit around the planet Duselva WX III."

"Oh. Right. Have you turned up anything interesting at the ruins yet?"

"I believe we have. And I believe our discoveries could be summarized in two words: what ruins?"

It takes a moment for that one to sink in. "Waitaminute. We found, like, a whole continent's worth of ancient arcology there -"

"So your report says. I will admit to a level of perplexity, in that there is no sign of these ruins here now. Nor on any of the other planets in the Duselva WX system - I have sent exploratory probes, in case there was some... error... in the numbering of the planet."

"The ruins are gone?"

"There is no sign that Duselva WX III has ever been inhabited."

"But - but -" I realize I'm starting to sound like a motorbike, and I stop. I gape at T'Pia.

"You have something of a reputation for eccentricity, Vice Admiral Grau," she says, "but I find it hard to believe that you would perpetrate a practical joke of this nature. I am unable, however, to determine any credible explanation for this matter."

"The ruins were there," I say. "I went down and saw them, dammit. We found - hold on." My mind is racing. If the arcology wasn't real, or has dematerialized, or something - what else might not be real? I hit the intercom. "Get me sickbay."

"Zodiri here," a voice answers.

"Seb Moraes's body," I say. "It's still in the stasis tube in the mortuary, right?"

"Well, where else do you expect it to be?" On the screen, I see T'Pia raise an eyebrow at that. Damn it.

"Do me a favour. Check on it."

"What?" Zodiri demands. "Do you think he's got out and gone for a walk or something?"

"Just humour me, will you?" I hear her muttering indistinctly on the other end of the line. "We found a dead body," I explain to T'Pia.

"Yes. It was in your report. I confess, I did not understand that aspect of the situation, either."

"Neither do I. The only thing I can think is, something immensely powerful is playing a game, and the name of the game is silly beggars."

Zodiri's voice comes back. The stroppy Trill sounds fraught. "All right, where is he? And how did you know?"

"My best guess is, he's nowhere. Vanished completely. And it's just a guess, but I guess I'm guessing right."

"You suspect the entity at Tiaza Zephora of having some sort of reality manipulation ability," says T'Pia.

"Even if I'm cracking up and playing practical jokes, my crew aren't. And Tylha Shohl isn't, and she's seen these things too."

T'Pia nods slowly. "If your suspicions are correct, you are in a position of grave danger," she observes.

"Too right. But I don't know how best to get out of it, or even if we can get out of it." Something is bothering me. What is it?

"The entity's reach must extend as far as Duselva WX. I should not subject my survey group to unnecessary hazard."

"Right. Good thinking. Right. Crack out of there, now."

"It is also my judgment that you require all available assistance," T'Pia continues. "I will not endanger the rest of my survey group, but the resources of the Tapiola will be made available to assist you. I will give orders to the other ships of the group to return to Earth Spacedock, while I make best speed to rendezvous with you at Tiaza Zephora."

"Right - no," I say. "Get back to ESD yourself. There's no point you endangering your ship too."

"Your concern is noted, as is your protest. Tapiola will reach your current location in thirty-six hours. T'Pia out." And her face vanishes from the screen, to be replaced by the enigmatic image of the Chloe -

I bite down hard on an oath, and turn to Leo Madena. "Get me a channel to the teams on that ship! And alert the transporter rooms, now!"

"Sir?"

"The ruins vanished! Seb's body vanished! What's to stop that ship going, too, with our people aboard it?"

Leo swallows hard, and his fingers rattle furiously on the console. "Channels open, sir!"

"All teams on the Chloe!" I yell. "Drop everything you're doing and prepare for emergency beam-out! Transporter rooms! Get locks on them, beam them out, and make it fast!"

"Energizing," an anonymous voice reports. I sit back in my command chair, bolt upright, and fret. It's out of my hands now. The Chloe stays on the screen, inactive, seemingly solid enough.... Time passes. It feels like hours. "This is transporter room one," the voice says. "All personnel recovered and accounted for. Sir, what's it all about?"

I take a deep breath, trying to think of a succinct answer -

Then the whole ship lurches beneath me, and a pit opens up in my stomach like I'm trapped in a falling elevator. People are yelling and falling, all around the bridge. I clutch at the arms of the command chair. Why the hell do we not have seatbelts, again?

"Massive gravimetric shear!" Saval shouts from the science console.

"Attempting to compensate." Jhemyl is at the helm, her hands moving with remorseless competence on the controls. "Engaging RCS thrusters and stabilizers. Boosting inertial dampeners to maximum. Sir, the other ships have also been caught in the anomaly. And the Chloe is no longer on my screen, and - sir -" She comes to a full stop. That has to be bad.

But the ship is steadying. I take a look at the tactical display, to assess the situation. Then I wish I hadn't.

"All right," I say. It comes out as a sort of croak. "I'm going to close my eye and count to ten - and if whoever took the planet puts it back in that time... we'll say no more about it...."