Reap the Whirlwind

It was a startling image. “My God,” Pe

“I gave that order to contain a threat,” Reyes said. “To stop a massive attack by an enemy you’ve now seen with your own eyes.” He turned once more to the view outside the window. “More than thirteen thousand people died on Gamma Tauri IV,” he said. As he continued, his sorrow slowly transmuted to quiet anger. “But that’s nothing compared to how many would die if that enemy ever reaches a fully populated planet. We woke this nightmare, and now it’s loose, God knows where, ru

Pe

“Publish it.” Reyes turned away from the window and walked to the front door. “Write the truth, exactly as you saw it.”

“The truth about Gamma Tauri IV might make you look bad,” Pe

Looking back, Reyes replied, “All the more reason.”

“But if you let my story go out uncensored,” Pe

For a moment he thought he saw Reyes almost grin. “Probably,” the commodore said. “It’s your call, Tim. Do what you think’s right.” Reyes walked away, and the door shut with a loud clack, leaving Pe

He stood staring at the closed door, recovering from the shock of the unexpected…and then, all thoughts of Qui

I can finish this story in a few hours, he told himself. Let’s just hope Reyes doesn’t change his mind before it’s filed.

The gauges above T’Pry

M’Benga stood on the other side of the bed, leaning into the pool of bright bluish light focused on T’Pry

“Nothing natural about it,” Fisher said, the edges in his voice rougher than usual. “She’s one late breath from dead.”

They were alone with T’Pry

Not content to let a machine guide his entire diagnosis, Fisher reached down to grasp T’Pry

“It helps promote the healing process,” M’Benga said. “In a Vulcan healing trance, a patient concentrates his or her strength, blood, and antibodies on the injury. Simulating the heat and aridity of Vulcan facilitates this effort.”

A weak tremor of life passed through T’Pry

M’Benga finished marking the chart and set it back into a slot at the foot of T’Pry

Fisher withdrew his hand from T’Pry

“Yes,” M’Benga said. “It makes for fascinating reading. Those deep-tissue injuries and skeletal fractures I detected during her physical were sustained during a premarital ritual combat called Koon-ut-kal-

if-fee. Usually, the challenge is made by someone who wants to marry a person betrothed to another, so they can fight their rival for the mate. When T’Pry

“Charming,” Fisher said, almost dreading to see what other dark secrets of Vulcan culture were hidden in its details. “Is that why she’s been hiding these records?”

M’Benga conveyed his doubt with a tilt of his head. “I don’t think so. The Koon-ut-kal-if-fee is a legally protected Vulcan ritual. Unless she assaulted or killed a fellow member of Starfleet, or an unwilling participant, her actions would be entirely lawful under Vulcan jurisprudence.”

“Murdering people over sex and marriage,” Fisher mumbled. “Logical, my ass.” He glanced peremptorily at M’Benga. “And don’t go lecturing me about why I shouldn’t be appalled by this Koon-ut-whatever business.” Flipping through the rest of T’Pry

Nodding, M’Benga said, “With good reason. Now that her records have been declassified and Starfleet Intelligence has our report, they’ve revoked her security clearance. If she ever wakes up, she’ll be lucky to avoid a court-martial.”

Fisher dropped the data slate with T’Pry

31

Three minutes past 0800, Reyes settled into the chair behind his desk and checked the data feeds from the Federation. Sipping from his day’s first mug of coffee, he sca

It was the top item on every news feed, and it carried the byline of Tim Pe