Precipice

“My analysis of the artifact’s constituent elements and the nature of its fabrication have led me to conclude that, while it was made to interface with Shedai technology, it was notmade by the Shedai but by some other power.”

“Prompting the question of who made it,” said Marcus.

Furrowing his salt-and-pepper eyebrows as he stared at the image on-screen, Nogura asked, “Could the Tholians have built something like this?”

Xiong shook his head. “I don’t think so, sir. The materials are far more sophisticated than anything we’ve ever seen them create. For that matter, they’re more advanced than anything we currently know how to produce.”

“So we have no idea who made it,” Nogura said.

“Not at the moment, sir,” Xiong said.

The admiral frowned. Using a control panel next to the screen, he switched it to a star map of the Taurus Reach. “Your first report about the artifact said the Klingons had brought it to Mirdonyae from someplace else.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do we know where this object of yours comes from?” Xiong replied somewhat abashed, “Not yet, sir, but we’re working on it.”

“All right.” Nogura faced Xiong and clasped his hands behind his back. “It looks like we’ve got a pretty good handle on the whatpart of this equation, and not so good a grasp on the who, how,or where. Which brings me to my last question. Do we know whythis device was made? Was it to trap a Shedai? To control their machines? Or are those merely incidental details?”

Xiong bowed his head, partly out of humility. “Honestly, sir, we can’t say yet why or where it was made, or who made it. But I can tell you this: we are all very, very eager to find out.”

18

May 30, 2267

The Skyllawas a dark ghost drifting in the void between the stars, silently haunting the shipping lanes of the Taurus Reach.

Silent from the outside, maybe,Pe

“Please hand me a coil spa

Pe

“Thank you,” T’Pry

He poked his head around the edge of the crawl space and said, “Mind if I ask what you’re tinkering with?”

“I am recalibrating the governing mechanism for the ship’s inertial dampeners,” T’Pry

“Brilliant,” he said, quietly impressed.

The day before she had rewired the vessel’s shields. In the preceding weeks, she had improved the sensitivity of their sca

Their lonely vigil in deep space would be limited only by the ship’s available provisions, which upon their last inventory had been estimated at roughly an eight-month supply for two people.

T’Pry

“Right,” Pe

“An excellent suggestion,” T’Pry

“My pleasure,” Pe

She pointed to the deck of a narrow corridor that crossed the ship’s main passageway. “We will need to remove these deck plates to access the power-distribution system.”

“On it,” Pe

T’Pry

As the last deck plate in the short passage lifted free, Pe

“I need a decoupler to begin this procedure.”

He fished out the tool and handed it to her. “Voilà.”

“Thank you,” she said, and set immediately to work creating a power shunt from the mass of electro-plasmoid spaghetti that was twisted around their feet.

He was content to stand and watch her work. Because she had eschewed his previous attempts at small talk, he refrained from speaking lest he break her concentration at a crucial moment.

It therefore came as a surprise to him when, while in the middle of her work, T’Pry

He blinked a couple of times, then said, “Go ahead.”

“Why did you join Doctor M’Benga when he brought me home to Vulcan?”

There was nothing accusatory in her voice. She had asked the question in a simple, matter-of-fact way, as if it had been an item of mere curiosity for her.

“You’ve asked me that before,” he said.

“Yes, I have,” she said. “On Vulcan.” She looked up and fixed him with a piercing stare. “I found your first answer less than satisfactory.”

Feeling caught, he bowed his head. “Fair enough.” He took a moment to muster his courage. “The truth is, I came because of a vid I took of you.” She set down her tool as he continued. “It was right after the bombing of the Malaccain Vanguard’s hangar bay. Remember that?”

Her mien hardened. “I remember it.”

“Well, when I heard the blast I came ru

T’Pry

“I know,” Pe

T’Pry

“Right,” he said. “When I lost Oriana.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, once I’d shared that moment with you … I don’t know. I guess you became more real to me: a person instead of a villain. On some level, I guess I felt that maybe you were the only person I knew who could really understand the pain I’d felt.” He sighed. “The pain I still feel sometimes.”