Crisis On Centaurus Page 12

  "So vhat do ve do?" asked Chekov.

  "I have to think about that, Ensign."

  They all waited while he did.

  Chapter Thirteen:

  Gregory's Landing

  IT WAS MUCH later that same day, and Reuben Barclay was not at all nervous. Barclay and his two companions had made it safely to the new hideout in the pre-firstdawn hours; no one had seen, and no one had followed them.

  Several hours ago, Max had called on the shielded line to say that their quarry had been contacted and had agreed to Barclay's terms, all as Barclay had planned; it had not been necessary to kill him, or even to threaten to do so. It was going well. Max and Dave would stay in town to keep an eye on things; they did not know where Barclay and his friends were now, anyway. The address of this second refuge was a secret, and would remain so until early the next day—when, if all continued to go well, Max and Dave would be informed of the new address and would rejoin Barclay and the other two men.

  (The address was doubly secret because the late owner of the property had been in New Athens on the day of the explosion. But he'd been a good League member, and had given his sector chief a spare set of keys for use if and when the need arose.)

  Well, with any luck at all, they would be out of this hole by tomorrow. And there had already been plenty of luck: A later news report had identified the nuked starship as the U.S.S. Enterprise, commanded by one James Kirk—and had added that the ship had survived the blast and that the captain would confer with the new president and his top advisers on the current situation.

  As one of the authors of the "current situation," Barclay could not help but smirk. He'd use Kirk, just as he'd used all of them. It was good, very good, that it was Kirk who'd come. A quick background check of the captain had turned up an interesting fact about him: He knew the man Max and Dave had contacted this morning. He knew him very well indeed.

  That was an edge. Barclay was used to riding the edge—and he never, ever lost his balance. It was one of the many qualities of leadership and human purity for which Barclay would, one day, be recognized on worlds not yet numbered.

  All that would start once Barclay and his two friends left this dismal planet. That fool Holtzman had nearly destroyed the League—but, then again, Holtzman had removed all pretenders to League leadership in one stroke. He'd also done incredible, incalculable damage to the current order. That in itself was invaluable. Barclay could plan a return to Centaurus a few years from now—and be acclaimed as leader. It was as if it had all been … planned. Well, perhaps it had been. Barclay did not automatically dismiss the existence of Providence, as long as it served him.

  On that glorious day when Barclay would finally become leader, and his leadership was extended to other worlds, perhaps he could install Holtzman as a martyr to the cause. The League could use a martyr or two. (Never mind that Holtzman was a total fool who didn't know when to cut his losses and who mixed misguided loyalty with his pragmatism. Barclay was pragmatic enough for ten men, and he'd be writing the history tapes. He knew Holtzman was an idiot who would dynamite a high-rise building to kill a sandbug in one of the closets, but he could use Holtzman anyway. All he had to do was lie about him. Extensively.)

  Barclay looked again at his watch. Nearly the midhour; it wouldn't be long now. The rendezvous would be the next morning. That was when it would all begin.

  Chapter Fourteen:

  McIverton

  KIRK, SULU, AND Hayes walked into the presidential conference room atop the newly designated Government House. The three men already in the room rose as Kirk and Sulu entered. Erikkson—he must be the one at the head of the table, Kirk thought.

  He was. Erikkson was a small, balding man of about sixty. He looked tired. His suit was wrinkled, and he hadn't shaved for perhaps two days. He also looked nervous—but, for all that, he drew himself up, walked around the conference table, and extended his hand to Captain Kirk. "Henry Erikkson, Captain. And this must be Lieutenant Sulu. I'm very pleased to meet you both. Allow me to introduce the other two gentlemen: Minister of Defense Daniel Perez, and Minister of Internal Security Nathaniel Burke." All shook hands with Kirk and Sulu.

  Perez was a short, swarthy type; he looked like a grubby veteran of the kind of hand-to-hand infighting that still haunted the political precincts of the Federation. Perez looked subdued, though, as if recent events had deflated him somewhat. But Burke looked to be a military type: square-jawed, short-haired, and shaved blue. His suit wasn't a bit wrinkled. He was every inch an internal-security type; he looked utterly capable.

  So why don't I like him? wondered Kirk. He didn't have an answer for that yet.

  "Thank you for bringing them, Thaddeus," Erikkson said to Hayes. It was a dismissal; the chief of protocol nodded, smiled and left.

  They had quickly seated themselves around the table, the president at the head, Kirk and Sulu to his right. Perez and Burke sat opposite the men from the Enterprise. Coffee and sandwiches had arrived, but they remained untouched. There had been silence after an initial few minutes of meaningless small talk. Perez and Burke continued to look uncomfortable. President Erikkson fidgeted with a paper clip, bending and unbending it; finally it snapped apart.

  Enough, thought Kirk. "Mr. President?"

  Erikkson roused himself. "Yes, Captain?"

  "Forgive me, Mr. President, but I think we need to talk about this situation. There's a lot I don't know yet." The two ministers looked relieved. Hmm, Kirk said to himself. These two gents know there's something wrong with Erikkson, just as much as I do.

  "Anything I can do, I will do," Erikkson affirmed. "Ask any question. Go right ahead." The president made a "gimme" gesture with his hands.

  "Very well, sir," Kirk said. "It's been clear to me since before our arrival in orbit here that the explosion in New Athens was no accident. An accident with antimatter simply wasn't possible." Kirk felt he was on solid ground here; he agreed with Spock's initial analysis and had seen nothing on Centaurus to change his mind. "I need to know whatever you know about the incident. From the beginning, sir."

  Burke shifted in his chair; Kirk caught the movement. You can't keep a state secret in a situation like this, Burke, thought Kirk. School's out. I'll have my answers—or I'll have your carefully combed scalp, one way or the other.

  Erikkson looked uncomfortable. He glanced sideways at Burke, but Burke was busy looking at a spot on the opposite wall. The president cleared his throat.

  "Captain, I'll be blunt. The destruction of New Athens was due to nothing more than error upon error upon error, all committed by the government." Perez was beginning to look ill; Erikkson noticed his discomfort. "Dan," he said, "there's no time to gloss things over, and I'm not one to indulge in recriminations. We were stupid, period, and it's cost a million lives. Captain, please understand me. I find it difficult to live with this. No one outside this room knows the whole story. Please try to understand what I'm going to tell you."

  Kirk nodded. "Go on, sir."

  Erikkson took a deep breath, and began. "About ten years ago, some people on this planet who should have known better formed a political fringe movement called the League for a Pure Humanity. Their numbers were never very great, but they exerted influence by means of demonstrations, clever literature and the occasional paid political 3V broadcast."

  "I've heard of them, Mr. President. Word gets around."

  "Their leader was a university physics professor named Holtzman, Isidore Holtzman. He was rather famous as a political personality from the fringe. Holtzman enjoyed a measure of importance well beyond the numbers of his group or the votes they could draw in any given election. If a newscast needed a dramatic quote on anything from agricultural policy to the weather, they'd get such a quote from Holtzman. Most people dismissed him as a lunatic."

  "Was he one?" Kirk asked.

  "He was never diagnosed," Erikkson said, "and this government was not one to force a rationality test on a man simply because of his political philosophy.
We simply tolerated his tirades. As I say, he did not have much of a following."

  "If I may, sir," Sulu said, "what were his group's views?"

  Erikkson sighed. "The League favored a new political agenda for Centaurus, under which we would pull out of the Federation and expel all non-human citizens and residents from the planet. There was evidence that the League wished to limit citizenship here still further to humans of certain, ah, racial types. I apologize, Mr. Sulu."

  Sulu frowned. "From that, sir, I take it Mr. Holtzman did not like persons of Oriental stock?"

  "Or Negroid stock, or anyone else who wasn't Caucasian—but he was willing to 'tolerate' those nonwhites who would help advance his political fortunes. But as it was, few if any non-whites joined his movement. Certainly no non-humans did." Erikkson shook his head in disgust. "Fortunately, not many humans remain racist today; it's hard to hate your fellow human in an era of interstellar travel, when scores of non-human races are known."

  "Some manage it anyway," Kirk said grimly. "Go on, please."

  Erikkson continued. "Holtzman contented himself with agitation on the fringe for a decade. I don't believe the League was ever successful in electing even one representative to the World Congress, despite a great deal of politicking on its part. People simply didn't buy Holtzman's message."

  "But something changed," Kirk said. "What was it, sir?"

  "A month ago, Holtzman asked for and received a personal appointment with the old president," Erikkson said. "He demanded a political role for his group. He said that the president had a month to deliver that role—cabinet appointments to begin with, appointments to Congress a little later on. Holtzman said they'd waited long enough. If the president did not comply, the League would destroy New Athens."

  Erikkson sighed. "The president, of course, summoned security forces and attempted to place Holtzman under arrest for threatening the peace. But Holtzman said that if he were arrested, New Athens would be destroyed before nightfall. The president chose to believe the threat. Holtzman was allowed to leave, unmolested. He was followed, of course, but they lost him; he covered his tracks very well."

  "Why did the president believe the threat?" Kirk asked.

  "Whatever his faults, Captain, Holtzman was a talented nuclear physicist. The president chose to assume that Holtzman was capable of carrying out his threat. I think it would have been unwise to assume anything else." Erikkson paused. "But the president—all of us—assumed one thing, anyway: that the weapon of Holtzman's blackmail would be a nuclear bomb. It was not."

  "Holtzman got his hands on an annihilation device," Kirk said. "How?"

  "We don't know," Erikkson said. His voice grew shaky. "Perhaps, Nat, it would be better if you continued things at this point."

  Burke nodded. "Captain, in the following month we conducted security sweeps in the New Athens area. We detected every gram of misplaced U235 and plutonium there was to find. We had sensors at every point of entry into the region, ready to howl should somebody try to smuggle in a nuke. We didn't give a thought to antimatter, Captain; it was simply not a substance we thought could get into civilian hands. We weren't geared to detect it; instead, we wasted our time securing every nuclear facility on this planet. Meanwhile, the deadline approached."

  "So New Athens died," Kirk said quietly.

  Erikkson nodded sadly and, shakily, took up the narrative. "The explosion occurred about an hour after Holtzman's deadline. Nothing's been heard from the League since then—certainly nothing's come from Holtzman. Perhaps he died in New Athens. Maybe the entire leadership of the League did; it was centered there, although there were members everywhere. Or perhaps Holtzman and the rest of the group left New Athens before the deadline."

  "I hope they all died horribly," Burke said. His fists were on the tabletop, clenched; his knuckles were white. "My wife and kids were in New Athens."

  "And so were mine," Erikkson breathed. He bowed his head; tears fell silently to the desk. Kirk looked at Perez, but the defense minister's face told the captain that Mrs. Perez and their children had been there, too. So much blood, thought Kirk. Joanna, and these people's loved ones, and all the hundreds of thousands of others—and for what? What am I going to tell Bones when I get back?

  After a few moments Erikkson looked up. "Forgive us, Captain. The last few days have been a strain on us. We're not ourselves. I apologize."

  "You have nothing to apologize for, Mr. President," Kirk replied. "Nothing at all. No one in this room does." He paused. "You did your best. The former president could not surrender his authority to a madman; you took whatever measures you could to prevent a terrorist attack. This Holtzman hit you with an unexpected weapon. You cannot blame yourselves."

  Perez grunted softly. "Sometimes I think that, perhaps, we could have played for time somehow … or we could have evacuated the city … saved our families …"

  Burke was quick to respond. "I can't afford to think that, Danny. Sooner or later, Holtzman would have hit us. Hell, he told the president he'd blow up the town at the first sign of an evacuation—or at the first sign of an evacuation of Cabinet families."

  The internal security minister looked at Kirk. "Captain, thank you for what you said just now. The guilt of this thing is something the three of us must live with for the rest of our lives. We'll never know if we did enough to prevent it. It cost us everything we loved."

  Kirk nodded; he knew something of what Burke meant.

  Sulu broke in. "Forgive me again, Mr. President, but has there been any attempt to draw up a list of survivors yet? We have a number of people on the Enterprise who have relatives in the New Athens area." Kirk looked at Sulu gratefully; the captain would never have asked for himself … but Sulu knew that, and so had asked for him.

  Erikkson nodded. "We have some names. We understand there are a good number of survivors in the northern part of the city. It might be easier if you'd give me a list of whoever it is you want to know about, and we can run a check of those names against the ones we already have. We could also give those names to the Red Cross and the news organizations."

  Sulu nodded. "Thank you, sir; that'll do just fine. I can come up with a list for you fairly quickly. I know most of the crew members involved."

  "Fine. Give it to Minister Burke, and he'll run it past his people, too." Burke nodded. There was a short silence, and for the first time since Kirk and Sulu arrived, Erikkson smiled. "You know what?" he said. "I feel like a cup of coffee after all. Will you gentlemen join me?"

  For the next hour Kirk and the Centaurians talked easily. Sulu had compiled a list of every person aboard the Enterprise he could think of who had a relative on Centaurus. It was no astounding feat of memory: Most of the relatives concerned had the same surnames as the crew members involved, and Sulu knew most everyone aboard well enough to come up with a nearly complete list. Not every great-aunt and second cousin was on it, true—but mothers and fathers and spouses and siblings, yes. And at the top of the list was MCCOY, JOANNA.

  Sulu finished and gave the list to Burke, who pocketed it. "I'll put Priority One on this right now, Captain," he said. "Mr. President, with your permission … ?"

  "Of course, Nat," Erikkson said. "Later, then."

  Burke turned to leave, then paused. "You know, Captain, I hope you help us get these guys, if there are any left to get. Terrorist murder carries the death penalty on Centaurus—and I want to pull the phaser relay myself. For Anne and the kids. You understand?"

  "I think I do," Kirk said.

  "I think you do, too," Burke said. "Good afternoon, everyone." He left. I understand you, Burke, Kirk thought, but I can't help you. I'm under orders to deliver them for trial on Earth . . . and I have enough of a struggle reconciling those orders with the vengeance I want to take for Joanna. And if we catch anybody and if they stand trial on Earth, the most they'll draw is a life sentence in a rehabilitation colony. And if I tell you that now, Burke, you'll never help me get them. And I want them. Bad.

  Th
e phone rang. Erikkson looked at it, puzzled. "That's the special military command network line," he told Kirk. To Perez he said, "Dan, I didn't realize we had the audio-only lines reconnected yet."

  The defense minister shrugged. "We don't. The command communications system was wiped out when New Athens bought it. Nobody's been able to patch it yet."

  "Don't you think you ought to answer it, Mr. President?" Kirk prompted.

  "Umm, yes." He did. "Hello, Erikkson here. . . . Who is this? From where? … Yes? … I see. Yes, he is. . . . Certainly. Hold on, please." The president covered the receiver with his hand. "Captain, this is your Mr. Spock. He's calling from the Defense Center."

  "Who the hell is Mr. Spock?" Perez wanted to know.

  Erikkson looked annoyed. "Come on, Dan, you talked to him on the radio just a few hours ago, when he was aboard the Enterprise."

  "Oh, that guy. Yeah."

  Kirk reached for the handset. "Thank you, Mr. President. . . . Mr. Spock?"

  "Ah, Captain. I thought I might find you there. It seemed logical that you would be with the president, so I simply repaired the Defense Center's hotline to McIverton and called him. I was not sure that the idea would work, however."

  "It worked just fine, Spock. You've once again managed to amaze me. What's going on?"

  "Captain, I need a command decision. I did not feel the situation would wait for tonight's check-in, when our shuttle-to-shuttle shortwave receivers are more likely to work."

  "What's the problem?"

  "I believe I have an approach to remedying the dilemma of the defense system computers. My solution is radical, but it will allow ships to once again approach this planet. However, I need your approval and that of the president as well."