Storming Heaven

“I know exactly what you’re feeling,” she said.

He lifted one dirty, callused hand and with the delicate touch of a surgeon brushed the tears from her cheeks. He looked almost ashamed. “I’m sorry.”

It was a small gesture, but she felt the compassion in it, the unconditional understanding. She took his hands in hers and with a mental push moved them away from their places of pain to one of peace. Vanguard faded away to a Vulcan desertscape by night. “This is a place not far from where I grew up,” she told him. “Here I learned the tenets of Vulcan mental discipline. Though I can’t teach you all that I know, I can share with you some basic techniques to strengthen your mind and control your feelings, rather than allow them to dominate you.”

“Why would you do that for me?”

“To use a human idiom, you and I both ‘battle with demons.’ Mine are shame and rage; yours appear to be addiction and grief. I ca

He nodded, and she felt his investment of trust in her. “Let’s get to it.”

When at last the mind-meld ended, and T’Pry

“I hope I was able to help you,” Qui

T’Pry

He chuckled. “You don’t say. Well, if someone wants to clear my bar tabs and float me a line of credit, that’d be a right fine way to say ‘thank you.’” Noting her reproachfully arched brow, he shrugged. “Just a suggestion. Forget I mentioned it.”

He turned and walked toward the door. She spoke as it opened ahead of him.

“Before you go . . .” She waited until he turned back, then she continued. “If you wish, I can help you block out your memories of Commander McLellan. It might make things easier for you.”

“No,” he said. “I lost her once. I don’t think I could take losing her again.”

She raised her hand in the Vulcan salute. “Live long and prosper, Mister Qui

He smiled at her as he walked out the door.

“Right back atcha, darlin’.”

21

“Dammit, Frankie, you’ve got my word on this!” A host of disapproving stares from strangers scolded Tim Pe

On the small, round cornered screen, Frankie Libertini looked less than convinced. Her thin lips were pursed, and she brushed a lock of her salt-and-pepper hair from her eyes with a hand whose fingernails looked as if they’d been gnawed on by a rabid badger. “Tim, let’s get a few things straight. First, I didn’t ask to be your editor, I lost a bar bet. Second, I don’t actually like you. And third, you’re not giving me a lot to go on here.”

Hand to chest, Pe

“Yes, you did. And I was happy to see they were in focus for a change.” Her lips disappeared into a doubtful frown. “I’m not saying you haven’t done some first-rate work over the last few years, because you have. But look at this from my perspective, will you?”

He was ready to strangle her out of sheer frustration. “What am I looking at?”

“All your sources on this story are confidential. Which I could live with if the whole thing weren’t so damned controversial. I mean, if we run with this, and you’re wrong—”

“I’m not.”

“But if you are,” she continued with a silencing glare, “we could be talking about consequences a lot more extreme than just you getting booted off staff—though I can guarantee that would happen so fast it’ll make your pretty little head spin.”

An insincere smile seemed the appropriate response. “Thank you for noticing how pretty my head is. I spend hours making it like this just for you.”

“Listen to me: this is serious. When this story goes out, if it’s as solid as you claim, heads will roll. And I’m not talking in metaphors, Tim. You’re shining a light on the kinds of people who don’t think twice about solving disputes with duels to the death.” She pressed the side of her fist to her mouth and looked away, perhaps debating whether she wanted to say what was really on her mind. Then the look in her eyes turned fierce, and Pe

He felt like throwing his coffee, mug and all, through the vid screen. “That’s crap! The two stories have nothing in common!”

“Yes, they do, Tim. What they have in common is you. Not to mention they’re both politically explosive exposйs that affect the Federation’s diplomatic relationship with a foreign power, and they’re both predicated on the undocumented accounts of a bunch of anonymous sources whose stories can’t be fact-checked on our end. The whole thing’s a bomb waiting to go off. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t spike it right now.”

Leaning in as if they were locking horns, Pe

Pe

“If you spike it, the rights revert,” he shot back. “And my revised contract only gives you right of first refusal—not exclusivity. I don’t do work-for-hire anymore, Frankie.” Just to tweak her temper a degree further, he made a show of examining his own well-manicured fingernails. “So, what’s it go

She rested her head in one hand, distorting the left half of her face into a caricature of exhaustion. “I’d feel a lot better about this if you’d at least name your sources for me.”

“Sorry, I can’t,” he insisted. “I promised them all complete anonymity and confidentiality. But I sent you all my hard evidence. You can see for yourself it’s rock-solid.”

His insistence seemed to have depleted her will to argue. “All right, fine. It is too good a story to pass up. But I’m warning you, Tim—you’ve already used up your second chance. If this story goes tits up, you’re done as a reporter. You sure you want to take that chance?”

“Positive. Run it. It’s good.”

“Okay, hotshot. Look for it tomorrow at the top of the morning feed.” As she reached forward to terminate the call, she added, “I still hate you, by the way.”

“Sleep well, Frankie.”

The screen went dark, and Pe

It was late afternoon, and the lanes of Stars Landing were busy with visitors of many species—some dining in small restaurants, others carousing in the pubs, a few shopping at the independently owned specialty shops. Pe