Fire On High (29 page)

Boyajian had taken over Soleta's science station while she was on the planet, and when he had called out, "Captain, energy spike! Something's happening down there!" Calhoun had not hesitated a nano-second.

"Transporter room! Get them out of there, now!

Boyajian, keep me apprised!"

"Still building, sir. The exact nature of it is hard to tell. I've never seen wave readings like this, but if I had to guess . . ."

"Yes?"

"Sir, I don't think it's going to explode. I don't think it's a destructive force. Best guess is that it's similar to our subspace transmission waves."

"You mean it's sending out some sort of message?"

"Best guess, yes, sir."

Calhoun frowned. "But who are they calling?"

"Captain!"

Calhoun had a sense for danger. Always had. Almost a sort of sixth sense that tipped him off about dangerous situations moments before they occurred.

This time, however, there was no chance at all, for even as he suddenly felt that buzz of alarm, it was too late.

Space was beginning to distort all around them, the stars seeming to stretch as if the ship were suddenly kicking into warp speed . . . except the
Excalibur
hadn't budged from its orbit. A massive corona of roaring power was surrounding them, kilometers off in all directions but completely enveloping them like a gargantuan container. It was every color in the
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visible spectrum, flaring all around them. It was as if someone had plunged them into an ocean of blue, orange, yellow, every color imaginable.

"McHenry, get us out of here!"

McHenry scanned the area, looking for a path, a course to set, but he shook his head in frustration.

"There's nowhere
to
go, sir! It's all around us! It's like we're trapped in the middle of a warp bubble! But its readings are totally different; it's like an alternate version of hyperspace, something that's sideways of us, different physical properties altogether."

"Shields up! Red alert!" Even as the klaxon blared, Calhoun moved quickly to McHenry, leaning over the instrumentation as he said, "What if we pick a direction and simply try to ram our way through?"

"Wouldn't do it, sir. Beyond the fact that it's warping space, I'm not getting any sort of a read on it at all. It could tear us to bits the second we come in contact."

The turbolift opened behind him and the erstwhile away team quickly assumed their positions on the bridge. Shelby stepped in next to Calhoun, who said,

"Good to have you back. Any thoughts?"

"We're in trouble," she said tightly.

"On the same wavelength as always, Commander.

McHenry, I'm not going to have us sit here and wait for the trap to snap completely. Set course one-five-eight mark four, all ahead full. Shields on maximum."

And McHenry was about to do it when suddenly it all became moot.

"Captain!" called Soleta from her station. "Whatever it is . . . it's dropping out of warp!"

"Where?"

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"
Every
where!"

She was right. A vessel unlike any that they had ever known was materializing all around them, shimmer-ing into existence out of the inadvertently named

"sideways" of space. It did not seem to have any solid sides, no interior or exterior as was understood by the human mind. The ship was huge beyond their ability even to measure it, much less describe it, with shimmering waves of unearthly power radiating in all directions, it was as if a Dyson sphere were materializing around them, but one made of pure force.

This, then, was a Promethean ship.

Its very existence threatened to blast the
Excalibur
out of existence. Everywhere there were energy waves pounding on them from all directions. There was nowhere for the ship to go, no defense that it could mount. Calhoun had never been so frustrated in all his life. There was no enemy to shoot at, no target to train his phasers on. It was as if space itself had come alive and was attacking them. The
Excalibur
shuddered under the pressure of a universe gone mad.

Never before had anyone seen anything like it.

Usually in battle, if a missile struck one of the shields, there was a brief flare of energy as the shield absorbed the impact. Not this time. No, the shields were completely lit up along the entire length and width of the ship, wave upon wave of energy rolling over them, giving off light of such intensity that it was almost blinding. The shields were never designed to deal with that sort of punishment, and the energy levels of the shields dropped faster than Lefler was able to call them out. Within seconds there would be no shields in place at all, and the
Excalibur
would be pulverized, ground into bits only moments thereafter.

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And there was nothing, absolutely nothing that Calhoun could do about it.

Selar had lost track of time.

She felt as if she had been floating forever, somewhere in a state of infinite comfort and bliss. She was no longer aware of her surroundings. Instead she felt a warmth, a peace such as she had never truly experienced before and—she suspected—would never know again.

There was something just beyond her, something that seemed in touch with a universe that had once seemed unknowable, mysterious, and even just a little bit frightening. But she was reaching out to it now, as it—in its slowly developing intelligence and sophisti-cation—was reaching out to her.

She was unaware of her own physical presence against the warp core, oblivious to the concern of Burgoyne and the others. All she knew was it, was the beautiful entity that she was seeking out . . .

And then she sensed alarm.

It was too overwhelming for her not to notice. The shouts, the alarms, the fear that radiated throughout the ship, the terror of not knowing what was going to happen, the belief that this was, somehow,
it:
All of it began to pour into her consciousness.

She touched the mind, the spirit, of the entity, reaching to it as it had called to her, and she needed to find a concept that it would understand. And she sought out one of the oldest, simplest, most primal urges that any living being had: the instinct of self-preservation.

"Protect yourself," she whispered as her mind
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reached out and repeated,
Protect yourself . . . you
must . . . protect yourself. . . .

And that was when Sparky fought back.

"Complete loss of shields," called Lefler, "in three . . . two . . . one—"

At that precise moment the trembling stopped.

Calhoun looked around, confused, as did Shelby.

"Ops, did we lose shields or not?"

"Shields are gone, Captain, but there's—" She turned and looked at Calhoun in total confusion.

"There's something else. Some sort of . . . of energy barrier that just came into existence around us."

And then Calhoun saw it. Something was indeed surrounding the
Excalibur,
acting as a barricade against the assault that they had been receiving at the hands of the utterly alien Promethean vessel. For a moment, just the briefest of moments, it reminded Calhoun of the great flame bird that they had encountered during the destruction of Thallon, but this didn't seem to have any shape to it. It was simply a massive shield of fire-like power that had surrounded the ship and was staving off any further assault on the vessel.

"Captain," Soleta said. "I'm getting wave readings off the energy force that has surrounded us. They are identical to the wave readings generated by the creature currently housed in the warp core."

"You mean that . . .
thing
in Engineering is protecting us?" asked Shelby.

"That is correct, yes, sir. And it appears to be holding . . . with very little problem, sir."

"Bridge to Engineering," Calhoun called.

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"Engineering, Burgoyne here."

"Burgy! Did you find some way to harness the power of that thing you call Sparky? Because right now it's the only thing between us and annihilation."

"No, sir, it's not me. It's Selar. And we could use Soleta down here, because she's the only one who's got a shot at—"

The rest of what Burgoyne was saying was abruptly overwhelmed by a massive rush of noise. It was almost deafening, staggering everyone on the bridge, like a roar of millions of voices all at once in perfect unison.

Although Calhoun sensed it, Morgan was the first to spot it. A wave of energy beginning to coalesce on the bridge itself, taking shape before their very eyes. It was so intense that it almost demanded that Morgan look away, but she did not. For she sensed what it was she was about to see.

For years—for well over a century—she had sought the Prometheans, for her own purposes. In her time, she had witnessed many strange things, encountered many amazing races. She had seen beings of almost god-like ability. She had encountered races of almost pure thought, races who were infinitely grotesque, races who were so beautiful that to look at them moved one to tears. And in all that time, she had tried to imagine what the Prometheans would look like.

These most unknowable, most all-knowing of beings; how would they appear? Would they be great, satanic beings with huge, bat-like wings and evil visages?

Monstrous, dark and black, spider-like creatures?

Would they be angelic, beings of pure light, with expressions of endless peace and serenity on their faces? No matter how much she tried to envision
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them, she always suspected that whatever she pictured would be wrong. That the Prometheans would be nothing like what she anticipated.

And as the Prometheans materialized aboard the bridge of the
Excalibur,
as Morgan Primus's long quest finally came to its climax and conclusion, she couldn't help but think of just how right she had been, No matter what it was that she had been expecting ...

It sure as hell hadn't been this.

255

XVI.

"HI. HOW Y'ALL DOING. Glad to be here. Really am."

The Promethean was nearly six feet and looked completely human, a man in his late thirties, early forties at most. He was dressed in a fairly tight suit of purest white, much like a southern sheriff from the 1930s. His stomach was taut and flat, his jaw was squared off, and he had a thick head of blond hair.

He took a step down from where he was standing, smiled at Lefler and touched her cheek. "Hi, little darlin'. You doin' okay?" To Calhoun he said, "My pardon if my accent is a little off. I haven't been to Earth in several hundred years."

"I'm . . . fine, thank you," a stunned Lefler said.

For no reason that she could discern, she felt an almost primal urge to scream in ecstasy and faint.

The Promethean nodded in approval, then clapped
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his hands together and rubbed them briskly. "So, who's the captain of this fine vessel?" he asked.

Calhoun eyed the newcomer warily. "I'm Captain Mackenzie Calhoun, in command of the
U.S.S. Excalibur."

"Fine ship you got here, Mac. Can I call you Mac?"

"Under the circumstances, I think I'd prefer 'Captain,' if you don't mind. Particularly considering that this . . . this vessel of yours"—and he indicated the gargantuan sphere of power that still encompassed them—"damn near destroyed this fine ship."

"We wouldn't have let that happen," the Promethean said confidently. "Just wanted to see how much your ship could take. And who's this?" he asked, facing Shelby.

"Commander Shelby, my first officer."

He took her hand and gently kissed the knuckles.

"Charmed, ma'am."

"You're . . . the Prometheans?" she asked.

He smiled dazzlingly. "If that's what you want to call us, that's happily a name we'll answer to, ma'am.

Yes. We're the Prometheans."

"I appreciate that," Shelby said in mild confusion.

"It's a . , . a pleasure to meet you."

"Thank you," he said suavely.

"You're a Promethean?" Calhoun asked.

"That's us," he said, slapping his chest confidently.

"I am them, they are me. We have a sort of all-for-one thing going, know what I mean?"

"May I ask a question?" inquired Shelby.

"Ask me anything you want, ma'am," the Promethean said, his hands spread wide.

"How could you, an advanced race, possibly have
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made your technology readily available to people who clearly weren't ready for it?"

"We're the Prometheans, darlin'. We are the bringers of knowledge."

"Your bringing of knowledge destroyed an entire race!"

He raised a scolding finger. "We bring gifts, that's all. What people do with 'em . . . that's their business."

He sauntered through the bridge as he spoke, occasionally shaking hands with crewmembers, patting them on the back. It was as if he was working the room. "We go to various worlds, pick likely subjects, and introduce certain knowledge to the world—