Twenty

A LONG, HOT SHOWER. A shave. A fresh uniform. A pot of strong coffee. Porthos curled up sleeping in his ready room. Archer was in heaven-or the closest to it he supposed he’d get in this life.

In other words, he was back aboard Enterprise, and all was right with the world. His world, anyway.

The Denari were still having trouble with theirs.

“You have my word, General,” the captain told Makandros. Archer was in his command chair, Makandros’s image on the main viewer before him. “We have no intention of leaving just yet.”

And we may not be leaving at all, he could have added, but since he and T’Pol were still the only ones among the crew who knew that they lacked the sensor data that would enable them to return to their own universe, he kept silent on that score.

“I am glad to hear that, Captain. I would be gladder to hear you agree to my request.”

“I understand that, sir. You’ll understand that I must attend to the health and well-being of my ship and crew first.”

“Of course,” Makandros said, looking as if he did not, in fact, understand at all. “I will contact you again in a few hours. Let us say two hours, which should give you-“

“No.” Archer shook his head. “I will contact you, General, once I’ve had a chance to discuss this with my senior staff.”

Makandros glared. The captain felt certain that among the uncomplimentary thoughts rushing through the man’s head this moment about Archer, foremost was regret at ever letting the captain and T’Pol off Hule once he’d had them there.

Archer couldn’t blame him. The general was used to having his orders obeyed without question, not disregarded. Certainly while he was commander of the DEF, even more so now that was acting as commander of the combined DEF/Guild forces.

“Very well,” Makandros said. “I will wait to hear from you.” With a nod, he closed the circuit, and the screen cleared.

Archer sat back in his chair and looked around the bridge.

Every station was occupied. Every member of his crew, having been ferried back from Hule immediately on Enterprise’s arrival at the Guild/DEF rendezvous point, was hard at work, testing and retesting every circuit aboard the vessel, going over the repairs the Denari had performed-check that, the repairs Cooney and Hess had performed at the Denari’s command-making sure all systems were back at nominal.

But there was one nagging problem they were still dealing with, a legacy this Colonel Peranda had left them: a series of booby traps located at several critical hall corridor junctures, and most seriously, a rather large explosive charge that had been planted in Launch Bay 2. While the booby traps were easy enough to disarm, the launch bay charge could not be removed without a code that Peranda possessed-a code the Colonel, currently cooling his heels inside Enterprise’s brig, had yet to surrender. Reed was down there now, trying to make the man see reason-much as Archer had done a few hours ago, on his way to the bridge.

Peranda had looked up at his entrance.

“Don’t waste your time,” he said. “I have nothing to say until you people are prepared to deal.”

“There aren’t going to be any deals.”

Peranda remained silent.

“I’m Jonathan Archer, the captain of this ship.”

“You know who I am.”

“That’s right. I know what you’ve done as well.” Archer looked him in the eye. “I want the code to disarm that explosive in my launch bay.”

“Are you prepared to deal?”

“I don’t make deals with murderers.” Trip had told him about Westerberg.

“Then we have nothing to say to each other.”

Archer checked his anger. He would not let Peranda get to him.

“General Makandros is very interested in talking to you. Perhaps you’ll speak more freely to him.”

Peranda remained silent.

Archer had to give the man credit-he was playing the only card he had for all he was worth.

Archer wasn’t going in on the game, though.

“I’ll be back, Colonel. To see if you’ve changed your mind.”

“I believe you will,” Peranda said, in such a way that Archer looked him in the eye.

All at once, he had the feeling that the man had more tricks up his sleeve. The thought gave him pause.

Outside the brig, Reed was waiting.

“Nothing,” Archer said. “I’ll leave him to you, Malcolm.”

“Aye, sir.”

The captain had every confidence in his security officer and his team. He was certain they’d get not only the code from Peranda, but whatever other secrets the colonel was hiding.

He snapped back to the here and now, and glanced around the bridge. A lot of unfamiliar faces on the bridge at the moment-many of his officers were down in sickbay, getting a quick physical from Phlox. As everyone in the crew had been doing, in shifts, over the last few hours.

Those who had been most adversely affected by their time in the Denari environment were being confined to sickbay or placed on restricted duty-Dwight, Hoshi, Malzami, and Dingham so far, though Archer was certain that list would grow longer as Phlox saw the rest of the crew.

The captain himself felt back to a hundred percent, though he supposed a good part of that was psychological, a change in mood attributable to regaining control of his ship and his destiny. Now all that remained was to find a way back to their own universe…

And finish up the business that they had gotten involved in here. Which brought him right back around to Makandros’s request.

Find General Sadir’s son.

 

In the day he’d been gone, the DEF ships at Kota had won control of that facility. Elson had withdrawn his forces to Denari, to regroup there. The man was refusing all attempts at contact, at mediation.

A long, bloody civil war seemed inevitable.

“We must find the boy,” Makandros had told him. “We could use your help. Your ship can-“

“I know what my ship can do, General. When it’s at a hundred percent. Which we’re not yet. Right now, we’re piloting off an auxiliary helm station, there’s a problem with our main sensor array, and we have booby traps scattered throughout the vessel.”

“You’ll let us know when you’re ready,” Makandros had said. Archer had said he would-once he talked it over with his staff, with Trip, in particular, who knew considerably more about the Denari political dynamic than he did-but the captain felt sure they’d honor the general’s request. Help prevent the Denari from slipping into total war.

 

The com sounded.

“Engineering to Captain Archer.”

Archer smiled. And speak of the devil…

“Trip. You have news for me?”

“Yes, indeed. Warp engines are back on-line.”

“That was fast.”

“Got more than the usual complement of qualified people down here,” Trip replied. Archer knew he was referring to Cooney and the other Daedalus personnel, who were assisting him. “Sir, you got that minute for me now?”

His chief engineer had been after him for a moment in private from the second Archer had stepped back aboard the starship. The captain had put him off for the last few hours, to make sure the whole crew got settled and that the ship was in condition. But now…

“Sure. Come up to the ready room.”

“Actually, Captain, I wonder if you’d come down here.”

“Engineering?”

“Yes, sir. D-deck.”

Archer frowned. Could the Denari have done something to the engines after all? Trip had said they were fine, but what if there was a problem he didn’t want to discuss in front of the rest of the crew?

“Sure. Be right there,” he said, and closed the circuit.

When the lift door opened on D-deck, Trip was waiting for him. But instead of taking him to engineering, Trip led him to an access ladder and started up it toward C.

“Hold on,” the captain said.

Trip, halfway up the ladder, paused and turned around.

“What’s going on?”

“Well-” He looked down the corridor in both directions to make sure no one was listening. “You know that request of Makandros’s?”

“Find Sadir’s son?”

Trip nodded. “Yeah. That’s going to be a lot easier to do than you might suspect.”

 

Archer looked over at Travis, who’d stayed silent the entire time, arms folded across his chest as Trip finished telling the captain who was inside the cabin behind them. At least he knew why he hadn’t seen his helmsman the entire time since he’d been back aboard Enterprise: Travis had been here, guarding Duvall and her son.

“What does she know?”

“She thought we were sent by Starfleet,” his chief engineer replied. “I told her that we weren’t-not exactly. And we haven’t discussed anything to do with our situation-Enterprise, parallel universes, all that. Nothing.”

“I see.” The captain was quiet a minute. “And the boy-he’s in there too?”

“Yes, sir,” Trip replied. “A little under the weather-something he ate yesterday. I’m thinking it’s the same thing that’s been happening to us, except in reverse. Doesn’t seem too serious.”

The captain nodded. Of course. The protein intolerance that had affected his crew here probably worked both ways. If the boy had eaten some of Enterprise’s food…

“Let’s get Phlox up here to see him.”

“I already spoke to the doctor. He said once he’s through with the crew-“

Archer interrupted him. “As important as this boy is, let’s keep him healthy. Tell Phlox-“

The door to Cabin 428 opened, and a woman-slim, medium height, shoulder-length black hair, dressed in a simple black pantsuit-leaned out.

Captain Duvall. Monique Duvall.

In his mind, she’d been dead for fourteen years.

Now here she was, alive, in the flesh, looking exactly as he’d remembered her.

Maybe even better.

“Jonny,” she smiled. “I heard your voice.”

Archer blinked, and swallowed hard. He didn’t know what to say. Jonny? The moment he’d hit puberty, he had insisted people stop calling him Jonny. Certainly not Monique Duvall.

“Captain,” he managed. “It’s good to see you again.”

Except that “again” was wrong-he realized it as he spoke. He had never met this woman-this Monique Duvall-before in his life.

“And you,” she said. “I’ve been waiting to talk to you.”

“Of course. Give me a minute first, won’t you?”

Giving him a look that mixed equal parts impatience, disappointment, and anger, Duvall nodded and disappeared back into the cabin.

Archer collected himself and turned back to his chief engineer.

“Get Phlox up here,” he said again. “Tell him this is a priority.”

“Aye, sir.”

He turned and spoke to Travis.

“For the moment, let’s keep on as you were, gentlemen. No one else finds out the two of them are here yet-all right?”

Both nodded.

“All right,” Archer said, and turned toward the door to 428.

“Sir,” Trip said. “One thing.”

Archer stopped in his tracks.

“She’s not the woman you knew, Captain. Even if she looks exactly the same-“

“I understand, Trip. Thanks.”

Archer nodded then, and stepped through the door into 428.

For a second, he was disoriented-the room was dark, dimly lit, configured differently than he’d expected. No bunk, a low table, comfortable chairs around it, a kitchen area…

Right, the captain recalled. This is the suite we set up with 430, after that business with the Jantaleyse ambassador.

Duvall was standing in the kitchen area, pouring herself a glass of amber liquid from a clear, multifaceted glass bottle.

She turned and smiled at him.

He smiled back.

Monique Duvall. Valedictorian of her Academy class. The best simulator pilot Archer had ever seen-and a pretty darn good one in real life as well. Helmsman on the Harmony 2, first officer on the Constellation prototype, captain of first the Maximillian and then, of course, Daedalus. He’d met her his first day of classes at the Academy-she was escorting her younger sister around, showing her the sights, renewing old acquaintances, having just returned from her first deep-space assignment-patrols in and around the new Centauri settlements, which were being harassed by Thlixian pirate vessels. Somehow, Archer had ended up alone with Duvall for fifteen minutes, quizzing her on what life ‘out there’ had been like. What a pest he must have been, he realized later. She’d put up with him good-naturedly until it was time for her to leave…at which point they’d shaken hands and said good-bye.

It was the beginning of the most serious schoolboy crush of his life.

Duvall had been in and out of the Academy for that entire year, alternating studies with patrol assignments. The captain remembered scheming up ways to spend time with her-preparing for conversations the two of them might have, practicing jokes he would tell her, pumping her little sister for information on her likes and dislikes…

The effort had been almost entirely for naught. He’d seen her only a handful of times over those next few months, and then they’d lost touch completely, until the Daedalus project was announced. Then they’d renewed their acquaintance, become friends…though the captain never quite got over feeling just a little bit like a nervous schoolboy in her presence. Tongue-tied, almost.

He felt a little of that right now.

“Honest-to-God scotch. I never thought I’d see this again.” She finished pouring her glass and held out the bottle to him. “You want some?”

“No, thanks.”

She shrugged and set down the bottle.

“Cheers,” she said, and bolted half her glass in a single gulp.

“We need to talk,” Archer said.

“I know.” She looked him in the eye and frowned. “You don’t seem happy to see me. Why is that?”

He couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, I am, believe me. It’s just that-“

“When I heard that a Starfleet vessel had been captured and that you were the captain…” She set her glass down on the counter. “Fourteen years, Jonny. I swear to God, I’ve thought about you every single day.”

Archer flushed.

He had to set her straight this instant as to who he really was, and why he was here, because if calling him Jonny hadn’t been enough of a clue, the look she was giving him right now…

This universe’s Jonathan Archer and Monique Duvall had been close-very, very close indeed.

“You’re in a tough position,” she said. “I understand. You’re Starfleet here, and after what I’ve done-“

“Captain-“

“Monique, Jonny. You haven’t forgotten my name, have you?”

“No, of course not. But, please, let’s sit down and talk.”

Duvall wasn’t listening.

“Everything I did, I did for him. For Leeman.” Tears filled her eyes. “It was Lyatt’s choice-his father’s name. I went along. I didn’t think it would be a good idea to insist on Henry. But in my mind, that’s how I thought of him. Just like we talked about, Jonny.”

Archer looked at her, and heard his heart pounding in his chest.

“What?”

She nodded toward 430, and managed a smile. “He’s right in there, Jonny. Our son.”

The captain blinked.

Words failed him.

 

Three surprises awaited Trip in sickbay.

Phlox had finished with the crew.

He was examining Ferik.

Neesa was with them.

She standing on one side of the diagnostic scanning chamber, her back to Trip. She turned reflexively at the sound of the door opening, and their eyes met.

For a second, Trip didn’t know how to react. In his mind, he hadn’t decided whether or not he should try and see her, or anyone aboard Eclipse, for that matter, again. The way he’d left before had felt like good-bye. A final good-bye. He didn’t want to stir up emotions-hers or his-all over again.

But the instant he laid eyes on her, those thoughts went right out of his head. And a broad smile broke out on his face. She returned it.

“Neesa.”

“Trip.”

He went to her then, and they embraced.

“I wasn’t sure if I was going to see you.”

“I wasn’t sure if it would be a good idea.”

Trip became aware that Phlox was staring at them. He was also aware that he really didn’t care about that in the least.

Up until this instant, he hadn’t even thought about whether or not he should tell the captain about his relationship with Trant. Now he realized he would-moreover, he realized, there was no reason to hide that relationship. Not that he’d have a lot of time to spend with her over the next day or so, or however much longer they were here, but still…

He wanted to squeeze in whatever moments he could before good-bye.

She eyed him closely. “I miss the beard.”

“Not regulation, sorry.”

He held her at arm’s length, unable to wipe the smile off his face, barely able to keep from taking her in his arms and kissing her. Instead, he looked over her shoulder toward Ferik, who was now entirely inside the scanning chamber.

“What’s happening?”

Phlox, leaning over the chamber read-out screen, answered instead of Trant.

“I am running a detailed series of scans on Mister Reeve’s neurological functions,” he replied without looking up, sounding-to Trip’s ears, at least-somewhat peeved.

“Your doctor,” Trant said, “thinks he can cure Ferik.”

For a second, Trip was so stunned, he didn’t know what to say.

“Cure is perhaps the wrong word, Doctor,” Phlox said. “I can repair the underlying physical damage done to the higher brain structures. The degree to which that will actually “cure” Mister Reeve’s problems is entirely unknown at this point.”

“It’s a cure as far as I’m concerned,” Trant said. “Short-term memory formation has never been the problem-it’s the recall process itself that’s been disrupted. If we can get that operating again-“

“How much of Ferik’s previous memories remain intact is still a question,” Phlox said.

“I know they’re in there,” Trant said.

“Based on what evidence?”

“I’ve been with Ferik for fourteen years, Doctor. Those memories have surfaced from time to time.”

“And they may continue to do so. I only mean that a full recovery may not be possible.”

“I’ll work with him.”

“You cannot train memory recall, Doctor. As I’m sure you know.”

“But there is evidence-as you may or may not know-that the formation of neural signal paths can-“

“Hey, hold on.” Trip looked from Trant and to Phlox. “This is good news, any way you look at it. No need to argue.”

“I was not arguing,” Phlox said. “I was simply-“

“Doc,” Trip said, a note of warning in his voice. “Let it go.”

“Of course.”

“It is good news, and I am very grateful to you, Doctor, for agreeing to examine Ferik in the first place,” Trant said.

Something in her voice gave Trip pause. She didn’t sound entirely happy about this latest development. He wondered if he was the reason why.

He’d have to try and figure that out later. Right now, he had other business to attend to.

“Doctor,” he said, more formally. “I need to take you away for a minute. Captain Archer needs you.”

“Is it an emergency?” Phlox asked, hunched over the diagnostic screen.

“I guess you could say that.”

“It either is, or it isn’t. Is a life at stake? Permanent injury?”

“No, but the captain said-“

“It will have to wait,” Phlox said curtly. “Interrupting the treatment at this point will force me to start all over-an hour’s worth of work.”

“How much longer do you need?”

“Fifteen minutes, perhaps. Half an hour at most.”

“All right,” Trip said reluctantly. He didn’t like going back empty-handed, but he didn’t see as he had much choice. “But please, as fast as you can.”

“What’s the problem?” Neesa asked. “Maybe I can help.”

He was about to tell her she couldn’t when he remembered that Trant knew as much, if not more, than Phlox about this particular issue.

“Maybe you can,” he said to her. “Come on.”

 

Archer had that drink after all.

And then he sat Duvall down and made her listen to him.

It took a long time to convince her he was telling the truth. He thought in the end her decision to accept what he was saying might have had more to do with the way he was acting toward her-or rather, not acting-than the words he was saying.

“You are…different,” she said at last. “I can see that.”

The captain felt himself blush again under her scrutiny. He felt oddly inadequate, after hearing about the relationship the woman in front of him and his-doppelgänger, for lack of a better word-had enjoyed. Lovers for more than three years. On the verge of marriage until Daedalus. Planning to have a child together.

Duvall, in fact, had been pregnant when the ship had attempted to launch.

Now, at last, he had an explanation for her actions fifteen years ago. Stranded, defenseless, she’d done what she had to in order to save the child growing within her. By turning over Daedalus’s technology to Sadir, she had insinuated herself in the general’s good graces. And she had convinced him he had fathered the child she was carrying.

The Monique Duvall he’d known would never have been capable of doing all that implied.

But he had to remember what Trip said. This was not his Duvall, placed in different circumstances. This was another person, a complete stranger to him. He’d have to treat her that way, keep her at arm’s length until he found out where she stood on a number of things-most importantly, on the incipient war.

No time like the present to start finding out.

The two of them were seated on the couch in C-428. Archer stood now and began pacing the room.

“I have some questions,” he said brusquely. “I hope you don’t mind answering them.”

“No. Go ahead.”

“You’ve been in contact with General Elson,” he said. “You’re on your way to see him. Why?”

“Not my choice,” she responded instantly. “If you’d come here a day ago, you would have seen the guards on our door. Four of them.”

“Elson kidnapped you?”

“No, not exactly, though he certainly wasn’t going to let us-let Lee-wander about freely once Lyatt was dead.”

“So how did you get on board Enterprise?” he finally continued.

“When word first came to us, back on Denari, about the capture of a Starfleet vessel, I was contacted. Naturally.”

“Naturally.”

“Lyatt asked me to help look over the ship. The new technology, the weapons…he had it brought back to Denari, where Lee and I boarded.”

“And then you went to Kota?”

“That’s right. Where we were when the news came. Lyatt was dead, and we were suddenly prime targets. Elson wanted us with him on Denari.” She shrugged. “The rest you know.”

He did indeed. Elson’s goal was the same as Makandros’s-the Guild’s. Control Leeman Sadir, the heir to the throne.

Who wasn’t even his father’s son.

If word about that ever got out…

Archer wondered, suddenly, how strong the resemblance between him and the boy was.

“What are you thinking?” Duvall asked.

“I’m thinking this is a complicated situation. You know about what’s happening out there now,” the captain said, gesturing to the space visible through the cabin window.

“A little.”

The captain told her about Elson’s attack on the DEF, Makandros’s subsequent alliance with the Guild, the terrible destruction on Denari.

She was silent a moment after he’d finished.

“I’m afraid the fighting has just begun.”

“I want to help stop it before it goes any further.” He looked at Duvall. “Makandros and Lind are looking for you too. For your son.”

“I have no doubt about that.”

“They want him to lead the Council.”

“Out of the goodness of their hearts?”

“Out of a desire for peace.”

“He’s thirteen years old, Captain. They don’t want him to lead. They want him to be their puppet.”

Archer managed a smile. “I suspect they’ll have a hard time doing that with you around.”

“I’m not so sure. When Lyatt was alive…perhaps. But by myself…I’m human, not Denari. Not one of them at all.”

She looked vulnerable then. For a second, Archer felt sorry for her.

Then he remembered what the Daedalus crew-Cooney, Brodesser, all the others-had gone through because of her actions, and his sympathy vanished.

“Your son’s human too,” he pointed out. “Who else knows about that?”

“No one.”

“Not Sadir?”

“No.”

Archer frowned. “He never suspected?”

“Not that I know of.” She smiled. “Lyatt kept his own counsel. From the day I told him I was pregnant, I can tell you that he never treated Leeman as anything but his own.”

Archer nodded. “What about anyone aboard Daedalus? Anyone here you confided in?”

Duvall shook her head. “No. Doctor D’Lay knew I was pregnant, but he died in the…when Lyatt took over the ship.”

“And the boy? Does he know?”

She smiled. “Leeman, Captain. His name is Leeman.”

“Leeman, then,” Archer said, and was about to repeat his question when a sudden noise from behind made him turn.

There was someone standing in the shadows, in the doorway between the two cabins.

“Lee?” Duvall called out. “Is that you?”

The figure stepped into the light.

Twenty-One

“PENNY FOR YOUR THOUGHTS?” Trip asked.

Neesa looked up at him. “What?”

“Another Earth saying, means tell me what you’re thinking.” The two of them were on D-deck, heading up the gangway to C-428/430. Since leaving sickbay, their conversation had been very subdued. Neesa hadn’t put together a complete sentence yet-just a series of monosyllabic answers to his questions. She had a lot on her mind, obviously.

“What I’m thinking? Nothing tremendously important.”

“Can I guess?”

She managed a half smile. “Sure.”

“You’re thinking about Ferik.”

“In a way.” She looked over at him. “I’m thinking about Ferik the way he used to be. Wondering if he’ll be that way again.”

“He won’t.”

“When did you get a medical degree?”

“You don’t need a medical degree to figure that one out. It’s been more than a decade. A lot has happened to him. There’s no way he can be the same person.”

“I suppose you’re right. I guess, more than that, I’m wondering if things will be the same between us.”

“You know the answer to that,” Trip said, more gently this time. “They can’t be.”

She paused a moment. “So what do I do?”

“What do you mean?”

“If he recovers-fully recovers-do we stay together?”

“Well, on Earth, that’s how a lot of people do it. Stay together no matter what. They make a vow-till death do them part, the saying goes.”

“Is that how you’re going to do it?”

He looked at her. “Sometimes, that’s what I think I’ll do. Sometimes…I have absolutely no idea.”

“Leave it till you meet the right person?”

“I think I will.”

She smiled. “I wonder what you’re like here-the Tucker in this universe.”

“I wonder what the Neesa in mine is like.”

They stopped walking. They kissed.

“Do you know where Negatta is?” she asked. “How far away?”

He frowned. “Negatta? What does Negatta have to do with anything?”

The com sounded.

“Reed to Commander Tucker.”

Trip walked to the nearest com panel.

“Tucker here. What’s up, Malcolm?”

“We’ve got a problem.”

“I hate it when you say that. Go on.”

“Carstairs took apart one of Peranda’s little booby traps. They’re on timers.”

“Say that again?”

“They’re on timers. Random timers. They switch on and off, automatically.”

“Oh. That’s great.” It was in fact, just the opposite. They’d swept the ship for those traps using sensors set to detect the ultraviolet beams the bombs used as a triggering device. If the beams weren’t active…

“Better sweep the ship again. Use sensors set to the bomb’s composition this time.”

“Going to take a lot longer that way.”

“I know. Better get to it. I’ll let the captain know. You inform the crew.”

“Will do.”

“How is Peranda?”

“Silent as the grave. Which is where I’d like to put him.”

“I’m with you on that. Stubborn bastard.”

“Sooner or later, we’re going to need that launch bay.”

“Sooner, probably.” Trip frowned. Enough’s enough, he thought. He wondered if Archer would authorize the use of a little…chemical persuasion. “Let me talk to the captain. See what I can do.”

“Right. Keep me posted.”

“Will do. Out.”

Trip turned back to Neesa.

She was smiling.

“What now?”

“I was thinking, you need a little sodium dipentothal. That would loosen his tongue a bit.”

He smiled back. “You’re a woman after my own heart.”

 

One thing the Archers had always been good at-taking pictures. Digital stills, home movies, old-fashioned photographs-there were boxes and boxes of them in the attic in his parents’ old house, waiting alongside the other boxes of their possessions, waiting for the captain to decide what to do with them.

Right before the Broken Bow incident, a few days before Enterprise’s launch, Archer had gone back to that house for the first time in more than a year. A sudden desire to see old friends, old places-he’d wondered, in retrospect, if part of him had known somehow that he wouldn’t be going back that way again for a long, long time.

It had been that same something, perhaps, that had led him up to the attic and into those boxes, where he’d spent a good hour looking at pictures from his childhood and, eventually, from his father’s. Pictures of Henry Archer as a baby, a boy on his first day of school, as a gangly, awkward teenager, and finally, as a young man, on the day of his marriage.

Those images had stayed with the captain. He’d brought some of them along, in fact, digital captures stored on the workstation in his quarters. They’d also remained in his memory for the last two years while Enterprise, powered by the engine his father helped design, made its way through the galaxy.

Looking at Leeman Sadir, standing in the doorway between cabins C-428 and 430, was like finding one of those photos-a picture of his father that he’d never seen before, Henry Archer at twelve, maybe thirteen, still gangly and awkward, not a boy any longer, not quite a teenager…

About the same age as the boy he looked at now, who, no matter what name he was going by, was most definitely an Archer.

“You should be in bed,” Duvall said, getting to her feet.

“I’m not dying.” The boy looked directly at Archer. “This is him?”

Duvall nodded. “That’s right. This is Captain Archer. Captain, this is my son Lee.”

Archer looked the boy over and, for the second time in less than an hour, had trouble finding his voice.

Seeing Lee was like seeing the road not taken-the road that he frankly wasn’t sure he’d ever take-in physical form before him. In some ways, as close to a son as the captain would ever have.

“Pleased to meet you,” he said, holding out his hand.

The two of them shook.

“And you, sir,” the boy said, loosing his grip. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Really? Good things, I hope.”

“Oh yes.”

Both his grip and his voice were firm, confident, self-possessed beyond his years.

He was, however, a little green around the gills.

“Lee,” Duvall said, a note of warning in her voice. “Don’t overexert yourself. Please.”

“I’ll go back to bed in a minute.” He looked at the captain. “You’re here to take us to General Elson?”

“The situation has changed,” Duvall said. “We were just talking about it.”

“What’s happened?”

“Elson hasn’t been entirely truthful with us, apparently,” Duvall said, and repeated what Archer had told her, albeit in a somewhat abbreviated form. Lee listened with a seriousness that belied his age. Again, the captain was struck by his calm demeanor.

Whatever faults Sadir and Duvall possessed, his first impression was that they’d raised a fairly impressive kid.

“Makandros has allied himself with the Guild?” The boy frowned. “That doesn’t seem possible.”

“You can see for yourself shortly,” Archer said. “They want to meet with you.”

“The Guild?” The boy looked to his mother. “They’re…we can’t trust them.”

“Times have changed. And if Elson has really done the things he stands accused of-destroying the plant at Charest-he’s the one we can’t trust.”

“I can’t believe he’d do that. Father always said…” The boy, all at once, looked uncertain-a child again, not the young man he was striving to be. Archer did the math-thirteen years old. Lee still had a lot of growing to do.

“Your father knew how to adapt, Lee. We’ll have to do the same. In the meantime…” Duvall put her hands on his shoulders and spun him around. “Let’s get you back in bed. The doctor should be here soon.”

Duvall was right, Archer realized. Where was Trip? More than enough time had passed for him to return with the doctor.

And just then, the door sounded.

“Who is it?”

“Trip, sir.”

“Come on in,” the captain said, freeing the lock.

His chief engineer entered the room.

Doctor Trant of Eclipse, dressed in a green-and-orange Guild uniform, followed a step behind.

Archer took one look at her and frowned.

She took one look at Duvall and the boy, and her eyes widened in surprise.

“You’re Sadir’s wife,” she said.

“You’re with the Guild,” Duvall said. She turned to Archer. “What’s going on here?”

“That’s just what I was wondering.” He turned to Trip. “Commander? I thought I asked you to bring Doctor Phlox.”

Trip stopped in his tracks and groaned softly to himself.

He’d made, he suddenly realized, a terrible mistake.

He should have cleared Trant with the captain. Why he hadn’t thought of that down in sickbay or on the way up here…Stupid. Too caught up in seeing Neesa again, too surprised by Phlox’s announcement regarding Ferik, too anxious not to return empty-handed”Sorry, Captain,” Trip said. “Doctor Phlox was busy. I should have double-checked with you about bringing Trant.”

“You should have.”

“Is there a problem with my being here?” Trant asked. “I’ll leave.”

“No, it’s all right, Doctor,” the captain replied, but Trip could see that even though the frown on his face was gone, Archer was still angry. His voice, however, betrayed none of that emotion as he spoke. “Captain Duvall, Doctor Trant has been treating my crew for a variation of the same problem your son is suffering from. I’ve trusted her with their lives.”

“I don’t know that I’m willing to trust her with my son’s.”

“Captain,” Archer pointed out, “may I remind you, the Guild has no interest in seeing Lee harmed. Just the opposite, in fact.”

Duvall frowned, considering. Behind her, the captain saw Lee doing the same.

“I always have exactly the same interest, when it comes to my patients,” Trant said. “Helping them get better.”

“You say you’ve treated this same problem before?” Duvall asked.

“It sounds like the same problem, from what Commander Tucker was telling me,” Trant corrected. “I won’t know, of course, until I examine your son.”

Duvall nodded reluctantly. “All right.” She gestured towards 430. “There’s a bed in there. Probably the best place to do the exam.”

“I agree,” Trant said. “Shall we?”

The three of them left the room.

Archer watched her go a minute, then shook his head.

“You were right, Trip. She’s a different person.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I suppose I’m a different person here too.”

“I suppose. Don’t know that we’ll ever know that for sure.”

“Let’s hope not.” The captain looked directly at him. “We have a problem.”

“Yes, sir.” Trip prepared himself for that tongue-lashing.

But Archer’s next words surprised him.

“It’s about the boy.”

“Sadir’s son.”

“No.”

Trip frowned. “Is there another boy?”

“No.” The captain hesitated a moment. “Only one. But the thing is…he’s not Sadir’s son.”

“Oh.” Trip didn’t understand. Had he missed something? “Well, then, whose…”

Archer looked directly at him, and all at once, Trip knew why the boy had looked so familiar to him before.

“Oh boy,” he managed. “Could be a problem is right.”

“You see a resemblance?” Archer asked.

“Now that you mention it…”

“Will others?”

“Hard to say. Depends on how often they’ve seen you. If they see the two of you together…”

“We can’t let that happen, then,” Archer said. “Denari’s future rests with that boy. No one can even suspect he’s not Sadir’s son.”

“Agreed.”

“I’m going to have to lie low for a while. You’ve had the most experience with the Denari. Anyone needs to talk to Enterprise, for any reason, they talk to you.”

“Yes, sir.” Trip suddenly remembered what Malcolm had told him. “Something I need to talk to you about, Captain. Peranda’s little booby traps.”

“We got all those, didn’t we?”

“We thought so. But we just found out they work off timers. There may be some on board that haven’t armed themselves yet.”

“Wonderful.”

“We’re going back over the ship again, top to bottom. We’ll find all of them.”

“Be easier if Peranda would tell us where they were.”

“He’s still not talking.”

“We’re going to have to do something about that. A little truth serum, perhaps?”

“Just what Doctor Trant and I were thinking. She’s already volunteered to help us administer it.”

“I see.”

Archer studied him a moment, and Trip could see the question in his captain’s eyes: What, exactly, was the nature of his relationship with Trant?

Trip was ready to answer that when the entrance to 430 slid open, and Trant herself appeared in the doorway.

“Some interesting results,” she said, turning to talk over her shoulder to Duvall. “I’ll let you know.”

She turned back to the door then, scanner in hand, and saw Trip. A smile crossed her face.

Later, he would recall every second of what happened next in excruciating detail, as if it had all happened in slow motion.

Neesa smiling. Behind her, in the bed, the boy, sitting up. Duvall turning away from her son, taking a step toward the door as well.

At that instant, Trip, for some reason, looked down.

A pencil-thin beam of blue light stretched across the bottom of the doorway, at ankle height. One of Peranda’s bombs. Trip traced the beam back with his eyes. The bomb was fixed to the back of one of the table legs along the same wall as the door. He wouldn’t have spotted it in a million years.

He took in all that in an instant, and pushed the captain away.

“Stay there!” he yelled to Neesa. “Don’t move!”

He tried to wave her back with both hands.

For a fraction of a second, her expression changed. But whatever she thought then, whether she intended to act on what he was saying or not, it was too late.

Her foot was already moving forward.

The last thing Trip saw was it break the thin blue line of the beam.

Then, for a split second, everything turned a brilliant, bright white.

Twenty-Two

ARCHER BLINKED and opened his eyes.

He was in sickbay, on one of the beds. Trip and Phlox were leaning over him.

His head hurt like the dickens.

“What happened?” he croaked, his voice sounding thick and harsh with disuse.

“An explosion,” Phlox said. “You’re quite all right.”

“Peranda.” Trip’s face was grim. “One of his little going-away presents.”

Archer remembered then: the two of them talking, Trip suddenly pushing him toward the door…

Then nothing.

“How long have I been here?”

“Almost a day.”

“You’re all right?” he asked Trip.

“Except for this.” Trip touched the side of his face and turned his head to the right. He had a black and blue bruise that stretched from his temple all the way down to his jaw. “You and I were blown clear across the room, along with that new couch in there. Protected us from the shrapnel.”

“Almost all the shrapnel,” Phlox corrected. “You had quite a nasty head wound, Captain. A bit of a concussion as well.”

“What about the others? Duvall? Lee?”

“Kid’s all right, sir. A few bruises. Nothing serious.”

“Some potential hearing loss,” Phlox added. “And his digestive system is still functioning at less-than-optimum efficiency. But he is basically fine.”

The captain nodded.

He noticed Trip hadn’t said a word about Duvall.

“Commander,” he repeated. “What about Duvall?”

Trip shook his head.

“She didn’t make it, sir. I’m sorry.”

Archer groaned and closed his eyes.

In his mind, he went back to that instant in the brig, when he’d looked at Peranda and known that the man had something else up his sleeve. Another trick. The bomb.

“I saw it,” he said softly. “I saw it in his eyes, and I didn’t do anything. I could’ve saved her.”

“Not all your fault, Captain,” Trip said. “Travis was warning me not to underestimate him. I did it when we first took over the ship, and Westerberg died, and I did it again when-“

Trip’s voice broke.

Archer opened his eyes and saw his chief engineer blinking away tears.

He suddenly remembered there had been someone else in the room, too.

Doctor Trant.

“Trip?”

“Sir.”

“Not Trant too? She’s not…”

Archer’s voice trailed off. Trip hadn’t responded then, but he didn’t need to. Archer saw the answer in his eyes.

“Ship took a beating,” Trip said, and actually managed a laugh. “We’re going to need new guest quarters, too.”

“It’s all right.” He sighed heavily. “For what it’s worth…I’m sorry, Trip. I guess the two of you were pretty close.”

“Yes, sir. We were.”

Phlox stepped forward. “You should be resting, Captain. Your injuries are not severe, but you have lost a considerable amount of blood.”

Archer nodded. He did feel weak. And hungry.

And anxious to know what had been happening while he was unconscious.

“A minute, Doctor. Trip, can you fill me in? What’s been happening?”

“Strategic situation is status quo. Makandros and Lind are anxious to talk to you, and the boy.”

“They know he’s here?”

“They do. A mix-up after the bomb went off. When we gave them the news about Trant, we ended up telling them about the boy as well.”

“Understandable,” the captain said. And no great disaster, considering they were about to tell the general and Lind about Lee anyway.

“Yeah. But Makandros isn’t happy.”

“What a surprise.”

“We do have some good news, though. Launch Bay Two is operational again.”

“Peranda talked?”

“With a little help.” Trip smiled thinly. “Gave us the location of every device on the ship, and the codes to disarm them. Sneaky bastard. He put one in your quarters too, sir.”

“You’re sure he was telling the truth?”

“It would have been physiologically impossible for him to do otherwise,” Phlox said, “considering the amount of serum we put into his system.”

“He hasn’t stopping talking yet. We may be able to get some valuable information about General Elson’s intentions from him,” Trip said. “Provided he doesn’t get too sick.”

“It’s nothing serious,” Phlox added. “Just…uncomfortable.”

“Good.” Archer felt exactly zero sympathy for the man.

“Captain.” Phlox stepped forward again. “Please. You are running on adrenaline right now. Your system needs rest.”

“I’ll rest in a few minutes.” He looked up at the doctor. “Right now, I need to talk to Commander Tucker. Alone.”

Phlox frowned. “I really would prefer-“

“Doctor, give us a moment.”

Phlox nodded reluctantly, and left.

“Have you talked to anyone else about what I told you? About Lee?”

Trip shook his head. “No, sir.”

“Good. Let’s keep it that way. A lot depends on him, poor kid.” Archer frowned. “He knows about his mother?”

“He never lost consciousness. We couldn’t keep it from him.”

“And how’s he handling it?”

“Not too well, frankly. I tried to talk to him a little, but…”

“Maybe I’ll have better luck. He knows me-or thinks he does, anyway, from what Duvall told him. I’ll try in the morning.”

“Yes, sir.”

Archer looked in Trip’s eyes. “You going to be all right?”

“Yes, sir.” Trip nodded. “I’ll be fine. Soon as I stop beating myself up for not forcing that information out of Peranda before.”

“I’ll be doing a little of that too, later, I suspect.”

Trip managed a laugh. “That’ll make three of us. You should have seen Malcolm.”

The captain could only imagine. He smiled to himselfAnd then remembered something else he needed to talk about with Trip. The anomaly. Their nonexistent way home. Not just Trip-he wanted to alert all the department heads. A staff meeting.

Then a wave of exhaustion washed over him, and Archer decided that too would have to wait till morning. He said good night to Trip, and lay back on the bed.

He saw Trip and Phlox enter one of the isolation wards. The captain wondered, briefly, who the doctor was treating in there.

And then sleep took him. An uneasy, dream-filled sleep, with scenes from his first year at the Academy, places and times he’d shared with his Duvall, mixed in with fantasies of the life this universe’s Jonny and Monique had shared.

Incongruously, a young Henry Archer kept popping in and out of his dreams.

 

Archer called that long-overdue staff meeting for the next morning, in his ready room, after Phlox reluctantly dismissed him from sickbay. He kept it small and private: himself, Trip, Reed, and T’Pol.

“Just us?” Malcolm asked, leaning up against the far wall near the small cabin’s sole port.

“That’s right,” Archer confirmed. He and Trip stood side by side, backs to the inner bulkhead, while T’Pol sat in front of his workstation. “What we discuss in here, stays in here. Understood?”

Heads nodded.

The four gave him a status update then, on the extent of the damage suffered by the ship and crew-minimal, the status of repairs-almost complete, and the crew’s overall health-supplemented by a brief com link with Phlox).

And then Archer took a deep breath and told T’Pol and Reed the secret he’d brought them there to hear:

Who Leeman Sadir’s father really was.

The two of them were silent a moment after he finished talking.

“That’s unbelievable,” Reed said. “So there’s a strong resemblance between the two of you?”

“Strong enough,” Trip said.

“Which is why Trip will be our liaison with the Denari. So no one spots that resemblance.”

“Captain,” T’Pol said. “May I speak frankly?”

Archer nodded.

“You are concerned for the boy. That is understandable. You may also feel a degree of responsibility for him-kinship, even. That is understandable as well. However-“

Despite his best efforts to stay calm, the captain felt his cheeks flush.

“I know what you’re going to say, Sub-Commander. And I appreciate your concerns. But I’m well aware that the boy is neither my kin nor my responsibility. I simply want to do what I can to help him-and the Denari-avoid a cataclysmic war.”

“And how far are we willing to go to do that?” T’Pol asked. “If General Elson cannot be convinced to stand down-or his men convinced to defy his orders-what then? Will we use Enterprise’s weapons to force his surrender?”

Before Archer could reply, Trip spoke up.

“I’m not even sure that would be possible. If Elson stays in the Kresh, it’s going to take a lot more firepower than we have to get him out of there. Even with help from Makandros and the Guild…”

“We’re not getting directly involved in the war-if there is one,” Archer said firmly. “That would be compounding the mistake Captain Duvall made.”

“But here we are, in the middle of one side’s battle group. Perhaps we should have a contingency plan in place, sir, just in case,” Reed said. “I wouldn’t need to consult with DEF or Guild liaisons-simply determine the required force levels, and if the need arose-“

Archer shook his head. “I don’t think so, Malcolm.”

“What if Elson attacks us, sir?” Reed asked.

“We have the ability to outrun any potential attack,” T’Pol said.

“As long as we see it coming.” Trip turned to the captain. “Sadir knew all about the Suliban cloaking device. It’s possible his people were working on ways not just to detect it, but build one of their own.”

Archer frowned. “How possible?”

“Not very,” Trip admitted. “A long shot.”

“Then let’s set that aside for a moment. We have more important things to worry about.” He turned to T’Pol. “Sub-Commander, could you bring these two up-to-speed on our other problem?”

Trip and Reed exchanged puzzled looks.

“Other problem?”

The Vulcan leaned forward in her chair.

“We may not be able to get back through the anomaly,” she said, and then explained.

“No,” Trip said when she’d finished. “There has to be a way to get at that information.”

“We’re open to suggestions,” Archer replied.

“The helm,” Trip said instantly. “A record of course instructions, thruster firings…We pull data from the console-“

“The one Parenda destroyed?” Reed asked.

“The data might be salvageable.”

“The data does not exist,” T’Pol said. “Helm was off-line as well when we transited.”

“Okay.” Trip frowned and thought a moment. “We need a record of our course through the anomaly, is that right?”

“Correct,” T’Pol said.

“An outside observer. The Denari have to have records.”

“We thought of that,” Archer said. “We need data from the other side of the anomaly as well-from our universe. That’s our real problem.”

Everyone was silent a moment.

“What if…” Trip said hesitantly. “The orbital platform-the one the Denari in our universe were building. Would that have what we need?”

“If they spotted us, I suppose it might,” T’Pol said. “A rather large ‘if,’ considering we were trying to remain hidden. And even supposing the platform’s instruments do contain the data we need, how do we get at it? We are, literally, a universe apart.”

Trip smiled. “The mine got through. What if a communications signal could as well?”

“You’re proposing we contact the Denari back in our universe from this one?”

“Yes, sir.”

“It is an…interesting idea.” T’Pol nodded to herself, and Archer could see her mind working as she spoke. “The anomaly has many of the same characteristics as a subspace field node. It is theoretically possible that a properly modulated signal could be transmitted through it. We could not be certain of reaching the correct universe, but…”

“Possible?” the captain asked. “How long would it take to find out if the idea would work?”

“Couple of days,” Trip said. “Modify the carrier signal, try and isolate the Denari outpost…” He looked to T’Pol. “Sound right?”

She nodded. “At a minimum.”

“Captain,” Trip pointed out, “Professor Brodesser might be able to help out on this.”

Archer nodded. “I was thinking the same thing. Why don’t you ask him?”

“I would if I could find time. Makandros keeps calling every half hour. He’s contacted us twice this morning already about seeing the kid. Took a good deal of persuading to keep him from coming over here personally.”

“Is that a yes?”

Trip threw up his hands in defeat. “Yes. I’ll talk to him.”

“Good.” Archer smiled. “And I’ll go talk to Lee.”

T’Pol frowned. “Lee?”

“The boy. Sadir’s son. That’s his name.”

She nodded.

Archer felt her gaze on him, weighing his intentions.

He felt it on him, in fact, all the way down to the boy’s quarters.

 

The boy was still on C-deck, halfway around the saucer from where he’d been, in an unused crew cabin. Yamani was on guard duty. Archer nodded to him as he stepped up to the door com and pressed it.

“Who is it?”

“Captain Archer, Lee. Can I talk to you?”

Silence.

“I want to be alone.”

“I can understand that. I just want a minute of your time.”

There was no answer. Archer was about to try again when the door opened. He entered.

Lee was sitting in a chair, staring at a blank workstation screen, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Again, the captain was struck by his uncanny resemblance to the young Henry Archer. Then he noticed something else: the bed behind him hadn’t been slept on.

“You’ve been up all night?”

“I’m not tired.” The boy continued to stare at the screen, his expression unreadable. There were big, dark circles under his eyes.

“Phlox tells me you haven’t been eating either.”

“I’m not hungry. My stomach still feels a little queasy.”

“You need to eat. What happened to you before-Doctor Trant explained what the problem was, didn’t she?”

The captain knew for a fact she had: Phlox had told him so. The doctor had also told him that Lee had a firmer grasp on the theory-quantum mechanics, parallel universes-than Phlox himself did.

Gets that from his paternal grandfather, a little voice inside his head said.

Archer squashed it.

“She did.”

“So that if you stick to eating the foods Colonel Peranda brought over-“

“I understand. I’m just not hungry.”

“Lee…”

“I’m fine, Captain.”

“No food, no sleep…you won’t be for long.” Archer sat down on the bed near him. “If you want, I can have the doctor prescribe something to help you rest.”

“Drugs?” The boy shook his head. “No. My father used to say it was important to face your problems, not hide from them.”

“My father used to say the same thing. But in order to face your problems, you need a clear head. And for that, you need to rest. Let me get you some medicine.”

“I understand. I appreciate your concern,” Lee said, sounding like he couldn’t give a damn about Archer’s concern. Or anything else, for that matter. And who could blame him, really?

“A lot of people are concerned about you, Lee.”

The boy shook his head.

“They don’t care about me. They care about who I am. Do you understand? They used to say they wanted to be my friend, but what they really wanted was to use me to get close to my father.”

“Not everyone is like that.”

“The people I know are.”

“I’m sure you had friends-people your own age…”

The boy shook his head. “I didn’t.”

“From school-“

“I didn’t go to school. I had tutors. They were my friends. Doctor Oav. Maj Wooler. General Elson.”

Archer blinked.

“Elson was one of your tutors?”

The boy nodded. “For military history. Strategy. But he taught me other things too. How to watch the people around me, how to judge what they were really thinking. We played it like a game.”

And he taught you how not to trust anyone, Archer thought but didn’t say. He wondered if Elson hadn’t been planning something like this coup he was attempting for a very long time.

Makandros and Lind had their work cut out for them.

“They want me to turn against him now, don’t they? The Guild, and General Makandros.”

“They want to stop a war from breaking out.”

“But sometimes you have to fight. It’s a leader’s responsibility to decide when. That’s what my father told me. He said that was the hardest decision of his life-deciding that he had to fight the Presidium. Take over from them.”

The boy looked up at Archer, his eyes fierce, determined.

“He was a great man, my father. Everything I am, I owe to him. I hope I can be worthy of his memory someday.”

The captain held his tongue. Not exactly the picture of Sadir that Trip had painted for him, but then, what did he expect, given the source?

“If he fought to bring peace to your world,” Archer said, choosing his words carefully, “then don’t you owe it to his memory to try and keep that peace? However you can?”

“I’m not going to turn on my friends just because they say so. They’re all I have left.”

His voice broke on the last word. A tear trickled down his cheek.

“Sorry,” he said, sniffling. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

At that moment, he looked more like a kid than at any time since the captain had met him. A lost, lonely, frightened kid.

“That’s all right, Lee. Let it out.”

“I can’t stop thinking about her. And about my father. What I’m going to do without them around.”

“Maybe I can help you.”

The boy looked up at him again, but remained silent. After a few seconds, the captain went on. “I know you don’t really know me, Lee, but I’d like to be your friend. No ulterior motives.”

“You’re not going to make me talk to the Guild?”

“I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to,” Archer said. “That’s a promise.”

The boy nodded. “If I did go see them-the Guild-would you come with me?”

Archer sighed heavily. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” He couldn’t make the lie he’d told Makandros-that he was still weak from his injuries-come out. And he couldn’t tell him the truth, either. “I just can’t, Lee. I’m sorry. Commander Tucker will go with you, though. Okay?”

The boy nodded. “Okay.”

But it wasn’t. Archer could see it in his eyes. The connection he’d just made with the boy was slipping away.

And all at once, Archer had an idea.

“Hold on a second,” he said, smiling. “I’ll be right back.”

And he was, a few minutes later. But not by himself.

Porthos trotted into the room alongside him.

Lee was sitting on the edge of the bed. The boy’s eyes widened when he saw the dog.

“What is that?”

“This,” he said, smiling, “is Porthos.”

As if on cue, the animal bounded into bed alongside Lee, and tried to lick his face. The boy pulled back, frightened.

Of course. He’d never seen a dog before.

“Down, Porthos,” Archer commanded. “Get off that bed.”

The dog paid him no mind.

Archer pulled a treat out of his pocket and held it up.

“Porthos,” he called. But the dog’s sense of smell had already picked up the new scent. Porthos leapt down and bounded back to the captain, tail wagging happily.

“Sit,” Archer said, holding the treat higher.

Porthos sat.

Lee looked on, fascinated.

“He’s trained.”

“Barely.” He gave Porthos the treat. The dog wagged his tail and barked.

“Another?”

Porthos barked again, in agreement.

“You’ll have to perform.” The captain caught Lee’s eye and smiled. “Roll over.”

Porthos looked at him quizzically.

“Go on,” Archer said, motioning with his hand. “Roll over.”

Porthos barked again.

The captain laughed. “Close enough. Good boy,” he said, and gave Porthos another piece. The dog lay down on the floor and began munching away. Archer knelt down next to him and scratched behind his ears.

Lee padded over, barefoot, and stood by the captain.

“He likes it.”

“That’s right.”

“Can I try?”

“Sure.”

He showed the boy where Porthos liked to be scratched. Lee had it in no time flat.

The captain had a split second of wondering if the protein intolerance would make the boy-or the dog-allergic to each other before he remembered Trip and Trant, and realized that if physical contact was capable of causing those problems, his chief engineer would have said something about it.

“Why does his tail move back and forth?”

“That means he likes what you’re doing.”

“His name is Porthos, you said.”

“That’s right.”

“That’s a strange name, isn’t it?”

“An old-fashioned name. It’s from a book-a famous Earth book, The Three Musketeers.”

Lee looked at him blankly.

“It’s in the ship’s library. You can access it from the workstation later, if you like. Right now, though, you really should get some rest.”

“Okay.” The boy stood, and for the first time, gave Archer an honest-to-goodness smile. Archer smiled back.

Porthos jumped up on the bed again.

“Hey.” Lee frowned. “That’s my spot.”

“Come on, Porthos. Get down.”

The dog whined.

“I think he likes it up there,” Lee said.

Porthos turned in a circle and settled himself down on top of a pillow.

“He’ll stay there all day, if you let him.”

“Can he?” The boy’s eyes shone with excitement.

“If you like.”

The boy nodded and climbed into bed. Porthos made room for him-barely-then licked his face and settled back down.

“Don’t be afraid to push him away when he does that.”

“I won’t,” Lee said, stifling a yawn.

“Good. I’ll be back in a few hours. We can talk some more then.”

Archer turned for the door, the smile still on his face. If he’d been a betting man, he would have laid odds that Lee would be fast asleep by the time it closed behind him.

No sooner had it done that, though, than the com sounded.

“Bridge to Archer.”

The captain opened a channel.

“Right here, Trip. What’s going on?”

“Better get up here, sir. All hell’s breaking loose.”

Twenty-Three

TRIP STEPPED ASIDE and let the captain take the command chair.

“Let me see the recording first,” Archer said.

Trip nodded to Carstairs, on communications, who brought up the transmission they’d received not ten minutes ago. Elson’s image filled the viewer.

Now, as before, one word came to mind when Trip looked at the general: patrician. Elson had silver hair, sharp features, and a reasoned, calm manner. A born leader.

Probably just what he was counting on.

“Citizens of Denari. In light of the attacks by Guild forces on our planet and in the outer system-in particular, their capture of our base at Kota-it becomes necessary for me to convene the Council of Generals here in the Kresh, and ask them to grant me a temporary appointment as overall force commander. I do this in the interests of our planet, in the interests of justice, and in memory of those brave citizens who have given their lives in this struggle-those who have made the ultimate sacrifice to help defeat anarchy and chaos, in the form of the Guild and their allies. I ask for your support in this endeavor, and your prayers. In moments such as these-“

“Stop it there,” Archer said. On-screen, Elson’s image froze. “What’s that mean? Overall force commander?”

“Elson’s taking control,” Trip said. “Eliminating the opposition. At least, that’s what Makandros was saying.” Along with a number of other, more choice turns of phrase, which Trip didn’t feel the need to share with the captain right now. “Sir, they’re getting pretty anxious about the kid.”

“I’m working on it,” the captain said. “He’s not exactly a prime candidate for conversion to their cause right now.” Archer filled him in on what the boy had said regarding General Elson.

“Makandros won’t like hearing that.”

“Which is why we’re not going to tell him,” the captain said. “I’m going to let the boy sleep a bit. He was up all night. Maybe he’ll feel differently after some rest.”

“Maybe.” Trip frowned. Let the kid sleep? At a time like this?

He wondered if there wasn’t something to what T’Pol had said before, about the captain regarding Leeman Sadir as both kin and responsibility. That would only make their job even harder.

As if on cue, the com system sounded.

“It’s the general, sir,” Carstairs said.

“Tell him to hang on a minute.” Archer stood. “Go on, take it. I’ll listen in the ready room.”

Trip waited until the door had closed behind the captain before giving Carstairs the signal.

The general did not look happy.

“Six hours,” Makandros said without preamble. “That’s how long we have now, Tucker. I thought you might want to know that.”

“Sir?”

“Six hours until the Council meets and hands all power to Elson. Once that happens, there’s nothing anyone can do to prevent all-out war. Not even Leeman Sadir.”

Trip nodded. “I understand, General. Thank you for keeping us apprised of the situation.”

Makandros’s eyes were cold fire. “That’s all? ‘I understand’? When countless thousands are poised to die, and you hold the one person who could save them hostage on your ship? ‘I understand’?”

“He’s not a hostage,” Trip said.

“Then why won’t you let me talk to him?”

Trip struggled for an answer. Com noise came over the channel for a second. Then another voice sounded.

“This is Captain Archer, General. You’ll be able to speak to the boy in a few hours.”

“Archer?” On-screen, Makandros frowned. “Where are you? I have no visual.”

“None is being transmitted at the moment,” the captain said. “The boy is still recuperating from his injuries. He’ll be able to speak to you soon.”

“Soon? Didn’t you hear? We have six hours-less, as a practical matter. Once the other Council members enter the Kresh, they’re in Elson’s power. There’ll be no changing their minds then.”

“I understand.”

“You and Tucker-so understanding.” Makandros’s glare returned. Trip could hear the anger in his voice, hear him barely holding that anger in check. “You have no right to interfere in our affairs like this. Leeman Sadir is Denari.”

“And human,” Archer said.

More human than you know, Trip thought.

“Besides,” the captain continued, “as I recall, you interfered with us in the first place. Or have you forgotten that?”

There was silence for a moment.

“I cannot waste time like this any longer,” Makandros said. “We have plans of our own to make.” He closed the circuit without another word.

Trip frowned at the blank screen.

That went just about as poorly as he’d feared.

Archer appeared in the ready room doorway.

“Looks like Lee’s going to have to learn to do without sleep.”

“Why should he be any different than the rest of us?”

Archer managed a small smile. “I’m going to give him a couple hours.”

“Cutting it close, sir.”

“No sense in waking him if he’s going to act the same way,” the captain replied, a slight edge to his voice.

Trip nodded. “Yes, sir. A couple hours.”

He supposed that made sense.

It clearly wasn’t anything Archer was going to change his mind about, anyway.

 

Eclipse had contacted Enterprise as well, almost immediately after Elson’s announcement had been broadcast. On a far less contentious matter than Leeman Sadir.

It was that matter that brought Trip to sickbay now, to the isolation chamber at one end of the bay and the man who lay unconscious within it. Ferik Reeve. He had been recovering for the last twenty-four hours, healing from the treatment Phlox had given him. He was sleeping peacefully, his features arranged into a small smile, his face unlined, worry-free.

Trip didn’t want to be around when he woke up. He didn’t want to see that face change, to see Ferik have to absorb the tragic news about Neesa. Part of it was a genuine concern for the man’s emotions.

Part of it was that he didn’t think he could go through that all over again himself.

He thought of her now, as she’d been the first time he’d seen her, back aboard Eclipse, in the decontamination chamber. On the command deck, after his initial, failed attempt to repair that ship’s reactor. The first time they’d kissed, in his quarters. Their aborted kiss in the launch bay. He missed her. He’d said good-bye once, and managed it not at all well. He’d hoped to do better the second time around.

But he’d never had the chance.

Trip had been the one to pull her from the rubble of C-430-knelt there, holding her hand, feeling the warmth seep out of it, as Phlox tried desperately to restore the spark of life. He’d sat with her awhile longer, even as the doctor gave up, moved on to Duvall, and then Lee.

He’d walked with the gurney all the way down to sickbay, and stood by her side even as he received news about the captain, and the boy, and the ship, and the first angry communication from Makandros when the general learned Duvall and her son had been aboard Enterprise.

Malcolm had finally pried him away from Neesa’s side some hours later, gotten him back to his cabin, and handed him a stiff drink.

Trip had talked, then. Reed had listened-until very, very late in the evening.

 

“Initial signs are encouraging.”

Trip looked up. Phlox had entered the chamber. The doctor pointed to a schematic on the diagnostic screen concerning Ferik, a schematic that for all the sense it made to Trip, might just as well have been in Greek. “You’ll note here, and here”-Phlox gestured-“the increasing percentage of C-ketolin, which is indicative of memory formation.”

“So when’s he going to wake up?”

“Well.” Phlox folded his arms across his chest.

“The brain is an unbelievably complex organ, which we have spent the last two days traumatizing, albeit to therapeutic ends. I can assure you there is no obstacle to his regaining consciousness, save his own body’s healing processes.”

“So, you don’t know?”

Phlox frowned. “I believe that is what I just said.”

Just then, at the other end of the room, the sickbay doors opened. Lieutenant Royce from Eclipse entered.

Royce had been a frequent visitor to Enterprise the last two days, to see Ferik. Now he was here to bring the man back home.

“Tucker. Doctor Phlox,” Royce said, entering the chamber. “How is he?”

“He is well.” Phlox frowned. “I would still recommend leaving him here for at least another twenty-four hours, though. To be sure the tissues have healed sufficiently.”

“We don’t have twenty-four hours, Doctor. No one does.” He cast a particularly meaningful glance at Trip.

Phlox frowned. “Perhaps I am not expressing my concerns candidly enough. I don’t feel it’s wise to move Ferik at the moment. Not wise as in dangerous. Potentially lethal.”

“So is life.” Royce again looked meaningfully at Trip. “Especially since it seems like we’re about to go to war. Absent any last-minute miracles.”

“Is that a reference to the boy?”

Royce smiled. “If you like.”

“Don’t give up on him yet.”

“It’s not him we’re giving up on, Tucker.”

Trip rolled his eyes. “You can’t honestly think we’d deliberately prevent you from talking to him.”

Royce’s silence was answer enough.

Trip sighed. There was no point to this argument.

“Let’s get you a gurney to move him,” Phlox said. “From what you’re saying, Lieutenant, this area could well become a war zone in not too short a time.”

Trip nodded, then moved to followAnd a hand closed on his wrist. He almost jumped clean out of his skin.

The commander looked down and saw Ferik, eyes wide, staring up at him.

 

There had been no miraculous transformation.

It wasn’t as if the Ferik who listened, sitting gingerly on the edge of the diagnostic cot while Phlox examined him, while Trip and Royce explained what had happened to Trant and him, was a completely different person. Just as Trip had thought, just as he’d told Neesa herself barely two days ago, the man who woke seemed, in speech and manner, to be much the same as the one he’d been at the start of Phlox’s treatment.

But there were differences, subtle but telling ones. In his eyes-the way they stayed focused on whoever was speaking to him. In his facial expressions-the way he reacted instantaneously to what was being said. And in his voice, when he spoke after the three of them had finally finished asking their questions and relaying the tragic news.

“I can’t believe it.” Ferik looked up at Trip. “How could this happen?”

“I wish I had an answer for you.”

“The answer is war, Ferik. We’re at war.” Royce put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “How do you feel? Can you walk?”

“Easy, Lieutenant.” Phlox frowned. “I do not want to put too much stress on Ferik’s system.”

“No,” Ferik said. “Let me try.”

And before Phlox could say another word, Ferik hopped down from the bed and took a few steps. Awkward ones, at first, with a hint of the somewhat shambling gait he’d had before the procedure.

He reached the far end of sickbay and turned.

And as he started back toward them, his stride smoothed out, his back and shoulders straightened, and he smiled. It transformed his face. Trip, for the first time, saw a hint of the man he must have been fifteen years ago. The man who Trant had fallen in love with.

“Satisfied, Doctor?” Royce asked.

Phlox frowned. “No.” He picked up a hand scanner and ran it over Ferik. He studied the results a moment, then nodded.

“All things considered, you seem in good health. I would urge prudence, however, in your physical activities over the next few days. And, here.” Phlox handed him a flimsy. “This is a summary of the procedures I performed, with some suggestions on medications that may aid the healing process.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“You’re welcome.” Phlox bowed slightly. “I am sorry for your loss as well, sir. Doctor Trant seemed to me an excellent person, as well as an outstanding physician.”

“I…appreciate that.” The man’s words were still hesitant, Trip thought, but now it seemed a hesitation born not of confusion, but consideration-the difference between a mind searching for a word temporarily misplaced, rather than one whose meaning was lost entirely.

Ferik turned to Trip.

“I remember you. We were friends, I think.”

“We were.” Trip held out his hand. “Good-bye, Ferik.”

“Good-bye…”

“Trip. My friends call me Trip.”

“Trip, then.”

They shook.

“I’ll stick with Tucker.” Royce stuck out his hand to Trip. “Good-bye. For real this time, I suspect.”

“I think so too. Take care, Royce. Tell the marshal thanks again from me and Hoshi. For everything.” He met the man’s eyes. “And tell him not to give up on the boy yet.”

Royce nodded, then turned to Ferik. “Ready?”

The man gave his assent, and the two of them started across sickbay.

Just as the corridor doors were opening, Phlox called out from behind Trip.

“Lieutenant Royce, one moment.”

The doctor retreated into his office and emerged a moment later, a carryall in one hand. He crossed sickbay and handed it to Royce.

“What’s this?”

“Doctor Trant’s effects. I intended to give them to you the other day, and quite forgot.”

“You should have these.” Royce passed the carryall to Ferik, who opened it. Trip caught a quick glimpse of what was inside-a bracelet, a belt, her medical scanner-before Ferik closed it up again.

All at once, something tugged at Trip’s consciousness.

It kept tugging, all the way out of sickbay and into the turbolift.

It took him until the lift doors opened to deposit him on the bridge to realize why.

He stood there, unmoving, for a long moment. Picturing the items in the carryall again. The bracelet, the belt…

The scanner he’d given Trant.

Then he pictured her, in the last few seconds of her life, as she turned away from Leeman Sadir, lying in bed in cabin C-430, and spoke.

“Some interesting results.”

Those were her last words, as she studied the scanner she’d just used to examine the boy, giving him a complete, thorough physical. The results of which might very well still be in that scanner’s memory. The results of which just might include a detailed genetic work-up.

“Commander?” Carstairs was looking up from his station, looking across the bridge at him. “Is everything all right?”

“I don’t know,” Trip said, and headed for Archer’s quarters.

Twenty-Four

“YOU’RE SURE ABOUT THIS?” Archer asked.

“That they’ve got the scanner-absolutely. Whether or not they’ll look at the data, whether it has the kid’s genetic work-up…” Trip shrugged. “No way to know.”

The captain couldn’t believe it. All the trouble he’d taken to make sure no one would spot the resemblance between himself and Lee…

And now Trip was telling him that the Guild had incontrovertible proof that the boy was one hundred percent human in their possession.

He felt like screaming.

“Damn it.” The captain turned to his chief engineer. The two of them were in Archer’s quarters, Trip sitting in the chair next to the captain’s workstation, Archer now pacing the small room.

“Worst-case scenario,” he said. “The data’s there, and they find it. What happens next?”

Trip shook his head. “These are good people, sir, the Guild. I spent a lot of time with them. But…they’ve been fighting for almost a decade. Barely staying alive. You can bet if there’s a way that information can help them, they’ll use it. Kairn more so than Guildsman Lind, maybe, but-“

“I understand.” Archer didn’t know that he wouldn’t do the exact same thing in their shoes: use the fact that Lee was human to discredit him in front of the rest of the Council. Except…

“They won’t do anything yet. Even if they have found the data. Because right now, they need the boy to use against Elson,” Archer said, thinking out loud. “But after that…”

“Exactly,” Trip nodded. “After that they won’t need him at all.”

And if it suited their purposes, they’d expose him. Force him out. Or, what was even more likely, the captain realized, they’d blackmail him. Threaten him with exposure, but keep him in power. Make him their puppet, just as Duvall had feared.

“And we have no way of knowing if any of this’ll come to pass,” Archer said.

“No. And it ain’t like we can ask ’em about it, either.”

Both men were silent a moment.

This changed things, Archer realized. Complicated them tremendously. If the boy did what they were asking him-met with Makandros and Kairn, took his father’s place on the Council-he could be walking right into a trap. A potentially deadly one. The captain couldn’t let Lee charge down that path blindly.

“Sir?”

The captain looked up to find Trip staring at him questioningly.

“You’re not thinking about telling him, are you?”

“You read my mind.”

“You can’t do it, Captain. Learning that he’s not Sadir’s son-that could send the kid into hiding. Running away from everything-Makandros, Kairn, the Council-entirely.”

“Isn’t that his decision?”

“Not right now, sir.” Trip looked him in the eye. “Right now, it’s yours.”

Archer sighed.

Trip was right, of course. A war was brewing-a system was at risk. Stopping that war, saving lives, had to take priority over the truth. Even if it meant sacrificing the boy.

Didn’t it?

The com buzzed.

“Archer here.”

“Carstairs, sir. It’s the Hule again.”

Archer turned to Trip. “Let’s play it safe. You remain the liaison for now.”

“So we assume they haven’t found the data.”

“That’s right.”

Trip nodded and keyed open the channel. “Tell the general I need five minutes.”

“Five minutes, aye, sir. Bridge out.”

His chief engineer stood.

“Makandros isn’t going to sit around forever, waiting for the kid to make up his mind.”

“I know,” Archer said. “See if you can stall him just a little while longer.”

Trip nodded and left. The captain took the chair he’d vacated. Ship’s status reports were still up on-screen-he’d been in the middle of reviewing them when Trip had arrived with this latest bit of bad news. There was a list of completed systems checks, and next to it, a second list of those that remained to be done. Everything was on or ahead of schedule-a few more hours of work, and Enterprise would be back to full readiness.

Not that they had anywhere to go at the moment. And that reminded him…

Archer keyed in a quick series of commands. The workstation monitor cleared, then filled with an image from one of the science labs-T’Pol, Brodesser, and two of the crew from Daedalus whose names he hadn’t gotten, all gathered around a table on which rested a partially disassembled subspace beacon.

Archer opened a channel.

“Hard at work already, I see,” he said.

At the sound of his voice in the lab, everyone looked up. T’Pol said something to Brodesser and moved closer to the screen.

“Captain, I assume you are interested in learning what progress we have made.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“We are about to begin modification of the beacon’s carrier wave. In addition, an examination of our computer records has already provided the Denari outpost’s transmission frequency. I would estimate within another twelve to fourteen hours, we will be capable of sending a test signal.”

“Which will be your universe’s Hubble Constant,” Brodesser called out, without looking up from the beacon. “That’ll go a long way toward determining whether or not you’re talking to the right Denari.”

“Sounds like you’re making progress.”

“We are,” Brodesser replied.

“Indeed.” T’Pol lowered her voice, leaning closer to the screen and obscuring the others behind her. “Captain, I am still uncomfortable being away from the bridge at such a critical time, particularly given your absence as well. Professor Brodesser is fully capable of supervising-“

“T’Pol.” He cut her off quickly. “What you’re doing down there is at least as important as what happens on the bridge. Maybe more so.” Being safely back on Enterprise had certainly lessened the sense of urgency about returning home-the ability to eat, drink, and breathe without feeling sick was a big plus-but their supplies weren’t going to last forever. “We have to find a way to get that sensor data.”

She nodded with obvious reluctance. “Yes, sir. However, if anything arises that requires my presence-“

“I promise we’ll contact you. In the meantime…”

“Yes, sir. Back to work.”

“That’s right.”

He smiled, and closed the channel. At almost that same instant, the screen’s status bar began blinking.

It had been two hours to the minute since he’d left Lee to get some sleep. Time to wake the boy up and get a decision out of him.

One way or the other.

 

Trip drummed his fingers impatiently on the armrest of the command chair.

“I have the Hule for you now, sir,” Carstairs said, looking up from the com station.

“Put ’em through.”

Trip rose and waited for Makandros’s face to appear on the viewscreen before him. He’d had a hard time reestablishing contact with the Denari vessel-a lot of com activity going back and forth between Hule and the other ships in the DEF/Guild fleet, Carstairs had said. Maybe so, Trip thought, but he wouldn’t be surprised if at least part of the delay was Makandros giving him a little bit back, a little taste of what it felt like to sit around waiting.

Trip sympathized with the general. He was a little tired of waiting around himself. Not that he didn’t have sympathy for the captain’s position too-it had been hard enough for Trip to deal with a Brodesser who wasn’t really Brodesser; he couldn’t imagine what Archer must be going through-but he was anxious to have this over with, one way or the other. Enterprise was keeping a whole armada of ships waiting on them. And speaking of waiting…

Where was Makandros, anyway? The viewscreen was still dark.

“Ensign?” Trip asked, turning to Carstairs.

“Sorry, sir. They said a few seconds. Let me-“

Right then, the screen came to life, showing him Hule’s command deck.

But Makandros wasn’t there. Instead, the center chair was occupied by a woman Trip had noticed in the background during his previous conversations with the general.

“Where’s General Makandros?”

“He is otherwise occupied. I am Colonel Briatt, in temporary command of Hule.”

“Colonel. Commander Tucker, in temporary command of Enterprise.”

“I know who you are. What do you want?”

“What do I want?” Trip frowned. “The general tried to contact me before.”

“No doubt to inform you that the fleet is breaking up. Consider yourself hereby informed.”

“Breaking up?”

“Re-forming into smaller, more maneuverable squadrons. In the event we are attacked, this will give us greater tactical flexibility in our response.”

Trip’s gaze went to Ensign Duel at the science station.

“Confirm that, sir,” Duel said quietly. “The Guild/DEF fleet is moving apart.”

“You should move your ship as well, Commander Tucker. This many vessels, bunched so closely together-we have most certainly drawn the notice of General Elson’s fleet.”

“Thanks for the advice. We’ll take it under consideration,” Trip said.

“I suggest you do. Now if there’s nothing else…”

“There is, actually. Leeman Sadir-the general wanted to talk to him. You can tell him the boy should be waking soon.”

“I’m sure he’ll be interested to hear it. Hule out.”

And before Trip could say another word, the viewscreen went dark.

“Huh,” he said, sitting back down in the command chair.

He didn’t know what to make of that-Briatt cutting him off so quickly. On the one hand, it wasn’t entirely unexpected. Like he’d told the captain, Makandros wasn’t going to sit around forever. The general had told them before that he had plans of his own to make, and Trip supposed he’d done just that. Even so, not to be interested in talking to the boy at all? That was a little extreme. There had to be something else going on.

He wondered if he could find out what that something else was.

“Carstairs,” he said, turning to Hoshi’s replacement at the com. “See if you can get me Marshal Kairn, aboard the Eclipse.”

The young man nodded and bent to his station.

Trip, meanwhile, opened a channel of his own.

Twenty-Five

ARCHER FROWNED.

“Get Briatt back on the com. I want to talk to her.”

“Hule’s moved out of range, Captain. In fact, except for a few transports and one of the Guild ships that’s under repair, we’re the only vessel left here.”

Archer frowned. He couldn’t believe Makandros had all at once given up on talking to the boy. Trip was right. Something else was going on.

“Keep trying to contact them-Kairn and the general,” he said. “Let me know the second you do. And let’s take Briatt’s advice. Move us well away from the rendezvous point. Out of the Belt entirely, in fact.”

“Yes, sir,” Trip replied over the com. “Captain-“

“Yes?”

“Not to be a pest, sir, but it has been two hours. That’s how long you wanted to let the boy sleep before-“

“I’m standing in front of his cabin right now.”

“Ah.”

“Apology accepted.” Archer smiled. “I’ll keep you posted, Trip. Out.”

The captain stepped back from the com panel. He nodded to Yamani, on guard duty, who then unlocked the door for him.

Archer entered the dimly lit cabin. Rather than switching on the light, he let his eyes adjust to the semidarkness.

The first thing he saw was the bed, and Porthos sprawled out across it, right where Archer had left him. Sound asleep.

Not Leeman Sadir.

The boy stood at the far end of the cabin, staring out the room’s sole window port. He turned and offered Archer a half smile.

The captain returned it.

“Still having trouble sleeping?”

“I woke up right after you left. Couldn’t fall back asleep. Unlike him,” Lee said, nodding toward Porthos, who suddenly sat up in bed and barked once.

Archer smiled. “An ion storm couldn’t disturb his beauty sleep.”

“I’d like to change places.”

“You’ve got a lot more to think about than he does.”

“Yes,” Lee said. “That’s true.”

The boy seemed about to continue, but instead turned back toward the window, his gaze fixed on the stars outside.

“You hungry? Thirsty?” The captain nodded toward the refrigerator in the corner. “I don’t know if they told you, but there’s food in there for you.”

Lee shook his head. “No, thanks.”

Okay, the captain thought. So much for small talk.

“There’ve been some developments,” he said, and then told Lee about General Elson’s proclamation, his decision to convene the Council and, in effect, ask them to make him absolute ruler of Denari. He watched the boy as he spoke, waiting for some reaction. But Lee’s face remained impassive.

“I know you’re still taking it all in, Lee. And I meant what I said before about not forcing you to do anything you don’t want to. But this puts us under the gun now. If you want to present a united front-“

“I’ll do it,” the boy blurted out. “I’ll talk to Makandros and the Guild.”

“Good.” Archer nodded. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Which he was, except that he couldn’t help thoughts of the scanner Ferik had in his possession, the information on it, and what it could mean for the boy’s future from intruding just then. There was indeed a part of him that wanted to tell the boy everything.

Archer set it aside, and smiled.

“Now all we have to do is find them,” the captain said, explaining the fleet’s break-up. “But we should get you up to the bridge, so that-“

“There’s something else,” the boy said, all in rush. “Someone else, actually, that I need to talk to.”

The captain, who’d already taken a step toward the cabin door, stopped in his tracks.

He didn’t like the slightly hesitant, slightly defiant tone that had crept into the boy’s voice just then.

“Oh?”

“Yes,” Lee said. “General Elson.”

Archer sighed.

“Lee-“

“We only have other people’s word for what he’s done, Captain. No proof.”

Archer shook his head. “I saw Makandros’s fleet. The ships that Elson’s forces ambushed.”

“It could have been the other way around. You weren’t there. Who’s to say how it really happened?”

“There’s more than that, Lee,” Archer said gently, resisting the urge to tell the boy not to ignore the obvious. “Colonel Peranda was his man.”

“I know that,” the boy said quietly.

“Peranda is responsible for your mother’s death. For almost killing you.”

“No.” The boy shook his head. “I don’t believe General Elson would have ordered those things.”

“I know you were close to him, Lee, but-“

“Captain.”

The boy turned to face him directly for the first time.

The circles underneath his eyes, Archer saw, were even bigger and darker than before.

“All I want to do is talk to him. My father always said if you were going to judge a man, you had to be willing to look into his eyes. Hear his side of the story.”

The captain couldn’t help the look of exasperation that crossed his face then. “Lee,” he began. “You-“

“Captain, if I’m going to turn against the general, I need to make sure that it’s the right decision. You can understand that, can’t you?”

Archer sighed again. What he understood was that there was going to be no talking the boy out of this.

“All right. Let’s get up to the bridge then, so you can have that conversation.”

In the turbolift, Archer tried to talk strategy with the boy. The captain stressed that whatever explanations Elson had for his actions, it was important for Lee not to take them at face value. That he had to probe the general not just for words, but reactions. See what Elson thought about Lee’s taking his father’s seat on the Council, what the idea of a meeting between the boy, General Makandros, and the Guild provoked. By the time the lift doors opened, the captain was beginning to think that Lee’s conversation with Elson was, in fact, a good idea, if for no other reason than that it might reveal the general’s thinking to him.

Trip, however, didn’t share that belief.

When Archer told him what Lee wanted to do, his chief engineer all but exploded. The captain had to take him by the arm and drag him off to his ready room, leaving Lee in the custody of Ensign Yamani, who’d accompanied them to the bridge from his quarters.

“Commander,” Archer said as the ready room door closed behind them. “You need to calm down.”

“Calm down? Captain, did I miss something here?” His chief engineer shook his head. “Everybody forget about those nuclear bombs already? The attack on Makandros’s fleet? What happened right here, on Enterprise? You remind the kid that his mother’s dead because of Elson? Peranda was taking orders from him, if you remember.”

“I told him,” Archer said. “All that and more. This is something he needs to do.”

“And we’re going to let him?”

“If we want his cooperation, we don’t have any choice. Relax, Trip.”

His chief engineer took a deep breath. Archer gave him another few seconds to get fully under control before speaking again.

“Talk doesn’t cost us anything right now. Especially since we haven’t heard anything from Kairn or Makandros. At least, I assume that’s the case.”

“It is.” Trip nodded. “We think they must have moved deep inside the Belt, that they’re setting up defensive positions there. Carstairs is working on boosting our signal so we can reach them.”

“Look at it this way. This’ll give him time to do that.”

Trip frowned.

“I still don’t like it, Captain.”

“I don’t like it much either. But we’re trying to stop a war here. Whatever we have to do to make that happen…”

“Yes, sir.” Trip shook his head. “I’d still rather he talked to Kairn and Makandros first. You know the first thing Elson’s going to do is try and poison the kid’s mind about them.”

“I know. Which is why you’re going to be in on that conversation too. Making sure Lee gets both sides of the story.”

“I’ll do my best.”

The com sounded.

“Bridge to Captain Archer.”

“Go ahead.”

“I have the Kresh, sir.”

“Thank you. Commander Tucker will be right there.”

Archer closed the channel and turned to Trip.

“Show time.”

 

“Just stand here,” Trip said to the boy, placing Lee directly in front of the command chair. “Look at that screen, and speak right at him. That’s all. He’ll see you.”

“I don’t understand.” Lee looked around him to the ready room door. “Where’s Captain Archer?”

“Something came up,” Trip lied. “Don’t worry. He’ll be out as soon as he can. Now you remember what the two of you talked about?”

“I remember.”

“Just don’t let him avoid your questions. Make sure-“

“I remember,” the boy said, more sharply.

Trip threw up his hands. “Okay. I hear you.”

He stepped back and nodded to Carstairs. The ensign keyed in a series of commands at his console, and the viewscreen came to life.

General Elson-looking exactly as he had two hours ago when they’d heard him issue his proclamation to convene the Council, not a hair out of place, not a sign of stress or doubt on his features-glanced up at the screen and smiled.

“Lee. You’re all right. Thank God.”

The boy cleared his throat.

“Yes, sir. I’m fine,” he said.

“After we lost contact with the ship, I was worried.”

Elson had shifted locations within the Kresh, Trip saw. He was in a different place than he’d broadcast from earlier. Behind the general now, Trip caught glimpses of a huge, high-ceilinged room, and dozens of people milling around. More than dozens, in fact. Hundreds. A lot of them soldiers, who, judging from their posture and the way people who came near them reacted, were there on duty. Elson’s soldiers, no doubt. He could guess the reason for their presence as well.

They were there to make sure the coming Council meeting went exactly as the general intended it to.

“Who are you?”

Trip looked up to find Elson’s gaze had shifted to him.

“Commander Charles Tucker, temporarily in command of the Starship Enterprise.”

“One of the Starfleet officers. Lee is your prisoner then, I take it?”

“He’s our passenger. Our guest.”

Elson’s gaze shifted back to the boy.

“He’s right, General. I’m fine. These people are my friends.”

Elson nodded thoughtfully.

“You’re very understanding, Commander. After what was done to your ship and crew-“

“Which you had nothing to do with.”

The general’s eyes narrowed.

“That’s right. I had nothing to do with it. The attack on your ship was led by General Makandros. I was in charge of arranging your vessel’s transfer to Kota, but other than that…”

The general smiled disingenuously, first at Trip, and then at Lee. Playing to his audience for all he was worth.

Trip had to give it to him. The man was smooth.

“We need to talk, Lee,” Elson said. “A lot has happened in the last twenty-four hours. I need to bring you and Captain Duvall up to speed.” The general’s eyes scanned the bridge behind the boy, and he frowned. “Where is she, Lee? Where’s your mother?”

The boy blinked and shuffled unsteadily on his feet.

“She’s…” he began, and cleared his throat. “She’s not…”

“Captain Duvall is dead,” Trip said, stepping forward, giving the kid a moment to compose himself. “An explosion, aboard Enterprise.”

Elson’s reaction was immediate, and just as theatrical as Trip would have expected.

The man closed his eyes tightly and shook his head slowly back and forth.

“Oh no. God, no.”

“There was a bomb,” Trip went on. “A booby trap, apparently set by an officer under your direct command. A Colonel-“

“Peranda,” Elson snapped. “That idiot. Where is he now?”

“In custody.”

“I want him.” The general’s eyes darted to the boy and stayed there. “His orders were to transport you and your mother safely to the Kresh. That’s all. He won’t get away with this, Lee. I promise you.”

The boy nodded.

“Commander,” Elson continued, talking to Trip now but still looking at Lee. “I’d like to make arrangements to have the colonel transferred to our control, whenever is convenient.”

“You’ll have to talk to General Makandros about that,” Trip said. “Peranda and his men are with him now.”

Elson’s expression froze.

He turned back to Trip.

“Is that so? Makandros? After what he did to your crew, you’re on speaking terms?”

“That’s right,” Trip said. “We’re on speaking terms.”

He left it to the general to imagine what exactly they were speaking about.

Elson nodded thoughtfully.

“You should be aware he is an insurrectionist. Fomenting trouble within the border settlements, collaborating with sworn enemies of the Denari people-“

“Is that why you attacked his fleet earlier?”

Trip had hoped to provoke more of a reaction with that question, but Elson must have seen it coming. The general only set his jaw and nodded again.

“Precisely. I also have proof he’s been collaborating with the Guild, our government’s sworn enemy. That he may have helped them mount terrorist attacks right here on the planet’s surface.”

“You’re talking about Charest?”

Elson smiled thinly. “You’re very well informed about what’s been happening on our world, Commander Tucker.”

“We’re on speaking terms with the Guild too,” Trip said. “They tell a different version of that story.”

“I imagine they do.” Elson’s words were for Trip, but his gaze remained focused on the boy. “I assume you’ve heard these stories as well, Lee.”

“Yes, sir,” the boy said. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know what to think.”

“The investigation of the incident at Charest is ongoing,” Elson said. “Perhaps you would like to talk to the man in charge. One moment.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned to one side and said something the com couldn’t pick up.

Elson’s image disappeared and was immediately replaced by a head-and-shoulders view of another man. A man with darker skin than Trip had seen on any Denari previously, his head completely shaved, wearing a uniform exactly like the general’s.

Seeing the man, Lee, for the first time since Trip had met him, broke out into a big smile.

“Maj,” he said, taking an unconscious step toward the screen before he got control of himself. “It’s…it’s good to see you.”

“And you, young one.” The man had one of the deepest voices Trip had ever heard. “I’m so sorry about your mother. You’re all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“These Starfleet officers are not mistreating you? Because if they are…” The man’s gaze shifted and locked on Trip.

The two stared at each other a second.

Hard to tell over a com link, of course, but the concern Trip saw in this man’s eyes seemed fairly genuine.

“I told you, I’m all right,” Lee said. “I’m more anxious to find out what’s been going on down there. Charest. The general says-“

“It was an attack,” the man said, his face suddenly grave. “We have evidence the Guild was involved.”

“What sort of evidence?” Trip interjected.

“I will be happy to share it with you when you arrive, Lee,” the man said. “How far off are you?”

The boy’s eyes darted to Trip.

“I-I’m not sure,” Lee managed.

“You are coming to the Council meeting, are you not?” the man asked. “General Elson needs your support.”

Before Trip or the boy could respond, the man’s image disappeared, and Elson’s face filled the screen again.

“I should have mentioned that earlier, Lee. I have convened the Council. We need to present a united front against the threat the Guild represents.”

“Yes, sir. I…I was aware of the meeting.”

“I see. And were you planning on attending? Taking your father’s seat?”

“I…” The boy hesitated, looking all at once entirely lost, and far, far too young to be involved in the conversation.

Trip spoke up again.

“Seems to me that maybe your war council is a little premature, General. We’re on speaking terms with the Guild, after all. With Makandros. And you. If we can do it”-he smiled and locked eyes with Elson-“maybe you all can do it as well. Get together. Find a way to avoid this war.”

Elson shook his head. “The Guild would like that, wouldn’t they? If we stopped harassing their ships-gave them time to regroup, plan new, even deadlier attacks…”

“So you won’t negotiate with them?”

“I see no point.”

“General, perhaps…” Lee had found his voice and stepped forward now. “The Guild has asked to speak to me, sir. Let me do that at least, before you-“

“Lee.” Elson said, his eyes wide in what to Trip was clearly feigned surprise. “Talking to the Guild? What would your father say?”

The boy blinked, looking lost again.

Trip’s lips tightened in anger. “That’s a low blow, General.”

Elson turned back to Trip and for the first time allowed some of the anger he no doubt felt to seep into his voice.

“I fail to see what business this is of yours, Commander. Any of it.”

“I don’t like seeing people die for no good reason.”

“Noble sentiments,” Elson snapped. “But some things are worth fighting-and dying-for. Your father knew that, Lee.”

The general’s eyes fastened on the boy one final time.

“The Council meets in three hours. We’ll be waiting for you.”

Elson nodded, and the screen went dark.

Twenty-Six

“YOU KNOW what’s going to happen as well as I do, sir.” Trip shook his head and kept pacing. “The second Elson gets his hands on that boy, it’ll be the last time anyone ever sees Leeman Sadir.”

His chief engineer, who’d joined the captain in his ready room was worked up all over again.

Trip had good reason. The general may have talked a good game, but the captain’s assessment of the situation was pretty much the same as Trip’s: Elson had gone after Makandros and Dirsch because they threatened his position, and he was going to do exactly the same to Lee. If not to kill him, as Trip thought, then to neutralize him in some other way. They couldn’t deliver the boy into his hands.

Unfortunately, that was exactly what Lee wanted them to do.

“What if I do go? Take my father’s place. Elson has to listen to me then,” Lee had said, the instant Trip had brought him into the ready room.

“It’s not a good idea, Lee,” Archer had said.

“What do we lose by trying?”

“You, I suspect,” Trip interjected.

“He’s not going to do anything to me in front of the entire Council.”

“No,” Trip said. “He’ll find a nice, secluded area to kill you in.”

“Commander,” Archer said, a note of warning in his voice. “Let’s take a step back. Lee, who was that other man you were talking to? Maj-“

“Maj Wooler. Colonel Wooler. Another of my tutors-weapons, unarmed combat. I’ve known him my whole life.”

“He seems a little more trustworthy,” Trip said. “If a bit misguided in his allegiance.”

Lee shot the commander an angry look. But the captain agreed with Trip. Wooler’s feelings for the boy had seemed genuine.

“What’s his role in all this? Why’s he the one investigating what happened at Charest?”

“Colonel Wooler is-was-head of my father’s security force.”

Archer and Trip shared a glance.

“He’s got men under his command? His own men?” Trip asked.

“Some. A couple dozen.”

Enough to protect the boy, at least initially.

“Is there a way of contacting him without letting Elson know about it?”

The question had been meant for Lee, but Trip answered it.

“Doubtful, sir. I’ve been inside the Kresh. The way they have that place wired up…”

“Not that I know of,” Lee added.

Archer sighed. They couldn’t just send the boy in there willy-nilly. Trip was right. That was a suicide mission. And the captain did not think there were enough phase pistols aboard Enterprise to send down an adequate security detail-the chamber Elson had been broadcasting from was crammed full of soldiers. He was not going to put his people in the line of fire. Bottom line: as much as he wanted to help Lee-help the Denari avoid war…

This was not their fight.

“We need alternatives,” the captain said.

“We need more time,” Trip said.

“Let me go, sir. I’m willing to take the risk.”

Archer shook his head. “No. I’m sorry, Lee.”

“Captain-“

“It’s not just your life you risk by going. It’s your planet’s last chance to avoid war.”

The com buzzed.

“T’Pol to Archer.”

He opened the channel. “Go ahead.”

“We need to talk, sir.”

From the tone in her voice, she did not have good news.

“One minute, Sub-Commander.” The captain turned to Lee. “I want you to go back to your quarters with Ensign Yamani. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

“Captain,” Lee said. “Maybe if I can get to Colonel Wooler first-“

“Not now, Lee. Please.”

“When? We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Lee, this ship can do warp five. That means we can get from here to Denari in about two seconds, all right? We have time.”

“It’s going to take more than two seconds to convince the Council not to attack.”

Archer sighed.

“You said you wouldn’t force me to do anything I don’t want,” Lee went on. “Well, I don’t want to stay here on this ship any longer. Not when there’s a chance that I could stop a war.”

“I understand. We’ll talk about it. Just not right now.”

“You can’t keep me here.”

Archer didn’t respond.

Without saying another word, the boy spun on his heel and left the ready room.

The captain sighed.

“Kid’s right, sir. We can’t keep him here forever.”

“I know that. One thing at a time, though.” Archer keyed open the circuit to the science lab. T’Pol’s face filled the screen.

“Sorry about that, Sub-Commander. Go ahead.”

“We are aborting the project, sir.”

Archer let out an exclamation of disgust. More good news.

“What’s the problem?” Trip asked, leaning over the captain’s shoulder.

“Further analysis of the gravitational flux within the anomaly reveals far more powerful EM distortion than we’d previously detected. We will be unable to maintain the carrier signal’s integrity long enough for it to transit the dimensional gateway.”

“What about redundant carriers?”

“You could have a shipful of carriers and not get a signal through that beast.” Brodesser had stepped forward and now stood just behind T’Pol. “It’s not going to work, Trip.”

“So that’s it?”

“That’s it,” Brodesser said. “For what it’s worth, we’re using the signal to map out the strength of the gravitational flux within the anomaly. That may be of some help to you.”

“The professor is being unreasonably optimistic,” T’Pol said. “Such a map will not prove useful.”

“And your Vulcan is being a tad too pessimistic,” Brodesser said. “That map will enable your ship to pass through the flux without being torn to pieces.”

“As a practical matter, we will still be unable to return to our own universe, sir.”

Archer nodded. “All right. Thank you both for your efforts, in any case.”

“You’re welcome,” Brodesser said. “And we’ll get you that map, Captain.”

“And I will join you on the bridge, sir. With your permission.”

“Of course. We’ll see you in a minute. Archer out.”

The screen went dark.

The captain spun in his chair to face Trip.

“Got any more ideas?”

“I’m fresh out at the moment. Captain, don’t you think it’s time you let the rest of the crew in on what’s happening?”

“Yes. Probably past time.” And speaking of time…

Archer glanced back at the status bar.

Less than three hours to the Council meeting.

Lee was right, they didn’t have that long to act. Not if they wanted to stop the war. Makandros had said it too: once the generals were all in the Council chamber, they were effectively under Elson’s control. It would be close to impossible for them to go against him.

“Where are they?”

“Sir?” Trip asked.

“Makandros and Kairn-where are they?”

“I wish I could tell you. Carstairs can’t seem to find them.”

“Where’s Hoshi?”

“Still confined to quarters. I don’t know that she could be doing anything more, sir.”

“Well, let’s find out.” He keyed open a channel. A second later Hoshi’s face filled the screen. She looked about a million times better than she had the last time the captain had seen her-still thinner than usual, but there was color in her cheeks now, life on her face.

And a fork in her hand. He’d caught her in the middle of eating.

“Ensign, sorry for the interruption.”

“That’s all right, sir. Were my suggestions of any help?”

Archer frowned.

“Suggestions?”

“Ensign Carstairs had contacted me about alternative signaling methods-to try and locate Eclipse?”

“Ah.” Archer nodded. Of course he had. “No, I’m afraid not. Still no sign of either vessel.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. If I think of anything else, I’ll be sure and let him know.” She frowned. “Why were you calling, sir?”

“Just checking in,” the captain replied quickly. “When are you back on the duty schedule?”

“Tomorrow, hopefully. Doctor Phlox wants to see me get back another few pounds before he clears me.” She smiled and shook her head. “I don’t know how much more I can eat, though. Not without getting sick all over again.”

The captain saw a stack of dishes behind her and what looked like the bone from a very thick porterhouse.

“I didn’t know you ate steak,” he said.

“I don’t, usually. Doctor’s orders.”

“Well, we’ll let you get back to it then.”

Hoshi nodded. “Good luck, Captain. Commander.”

Archer closed the channel.

“Okay,” Trip said. “They don’t want to talk to us. But can we find them somehow? Force the issue?”

“What are you thinking?”

“Modify the sensors. I can take a pretty good guess at Eclipse’s hull composition. Feed that data in…”

Archer nodded. “Sounds like it’s worth a try. Let’s check status with Malcolm.” The captain opened a channel. “Reed, status on sensors.”

“Another hour or so till all units are on-line again, and at full strength,” Reed said. “We can try the modification then, sir, although, if they’re deep inside the Belt, we still might not have much luck.”

“An hour or so.” Archer shook his head. “That’s cutting it too close.”

“Sir?” Reed asked.

Archer filled Malcolm in on everything that had happened. In the middle of his explanation, T’Pol entered. The captain started over, and got her up to speed as well.

“I hesitate to point out the obvious, Captain,” she said the instant he’d finished. “But-“

“This is not our war. I know that.”

“Our safest course of action is to do as the boy asks. Let him join the Council. That was our original intent.”

“We thought he’d have Makandros and Kairn with him, though,” Archer pointed out.

“Captain, I don’t know that I’m comfortable bringing us that close to the Kresh anyway,” Reed said. “I’ve seen specifications on the armament they have on that building. For us to approach the planet, with Elson in control of those weapons-it doesn’t strike me as the most prudent maneuver.”

“Perhaps we could locate an alternative drop-off point, another Denari outpost nearer our present position, to leave the boy at.”

“We’re not abandoning him-or our effort to stop the war,” Archer said. “Not just yet, anyway.”

The com buzzed.

“Bridge to the captain.”

That was Carstairs.

“Archer here. Go ahead.”

“I’ve got them sir. Marshal Kairn and General Makandros.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, the captain smiled.

“Good work, Ensign.”

“Not my doing, sir. They contacted us.”

“In any case, we’ll be right there.”

He closed the channel and turned to Trip.

“Let them know the boy’s ready to talk. Tell them what we learned from Elson, and see if they know this Colonel Wooler. Malcolm, you get hold of Yamani, tell him to get Lee back up here right away. T’Pol, let’s get one of the shuttle pods prepped and ready to go. If there’s going to be a meeting between these people, it needs to happen soon.”

His command staff hustled through the door. Trip stopped on his way out and turned back with a smile.

“Think we might just pull this off, sir?”

“We might at that. On your way now.”

Archer watched the door close behind them, then went back to his workstation and activated the bridge monitor. He saw Trip enter the bridge and gesture to Carstairs. The viewscreen filled with the side-by-side images of Makandros, transmitting from what looked like the pilot’s seat of one of the Stingers, and Kairn, standing on Eclipse’s bridge.

“Commander Tucker,” Kairn said. “We need to talk.”

The marshal held up something in one of his hands-gleaming metal, about the size of an old-fashioned hardcover book. Archer didn’t recognize it.

Trip did.

“That’s Doctor Trant’s scanner,” his chief engineer said.

The captain felt the blood drain suddenly from his face.

“That’s right,” Kairn replied. “Would you like to know what information we’ve just discovered on it?”

“Sure,” Trip said, his voice sounding surprisingly, unnaturally calm to Archer, whose own heart was racing. “I’m listening.”

Twenty-Seven

“THE BOY IS A FRAUD,” Makandros said, speaking up for the first time. “Not Sadir’s son at all. Human.”

Trip had a split second to decide how to play it. Lie, or admit the truth. He wished that he and the captain had covered this eventuality in their discussions, that Archer was here instead of him right now, and then decided there was no point in lying. They were all on the same side here.

He hoped.

“That’s something,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “that we recently discovered ourselves.”

“Really?” The expression on Kairn’s face was cold enough to freeze coffee. “And were you intending to share this information with us?”

“We were talking about that as well.”

“And were you going to decide before or after we installed a human as ruler of our world?”

“Like I said, we were talking. And that was not our intention at all. Our intentions are the same as yours. Stop the war.”

“I would have hoped,” Kairn said, “that the time we’d served together would have counted for something with you, Tucker. That you would have decided you owed us the truth.”

“I’m sorry, Marshal. I really am.” Trip paused a second. “Of course, it would have been impossible for us to contact you if we had decided to share that information. Considering that we had no idea where you’d gone off to.”

Makandros spoke up. “We had plans of our own to make, Tucker. As I informed you earlier.”

“Well, now that we are talking”-Trip didn’t know if he shouldn’t suggest this or not, considering that it would be precisely the worst-case scenario he and the captain had discussed earlier, but he was flying by the seat of his pants here-“why don’t I go get the boy, and you talk to him as well?”

Makandros snorted in disgust. “The boy is useless to us now.”

“He’s still the only way you have to get Elson to stand down.”

“We’re finished here,” Makandros said. “Good-bye, Tucker.”

He turned his head to the side. Trip knew he was about to give the order to break contact.

“Wait.”

Both men turned to look at him.

Trip’s thoughts raced frantically, trying to find something else to say.

 

Meanwhile, Archer had Yamani on the com.

“Keep the boy in his quarters,” he told the ensign.

“Sir?” Yamani replied. “I just spoke to Lieutenant Reed, and he said-“

“These orders take precedence.”

“He’s a little restless.”

“Walk him around the ship, then. Just don’t let him up here.”

In the background, Archer heard Porthos barking and suddenly had an idea. “In fact, Ensign, take them both for a walk. Cargo Bay D-2.”

“D-2. Yes, sir.”

Archer closed the channel. Yamani had been to D-2 with Porthos before. He should be able to keep the boy occupied there for at least the next few minutes.

Until the captain could figure what they were supposed to do now.

On the viewscreen, Trip was doing the best he could, trying to convince Kairn and Makandros to reconsider their decision. Archer had mixed feelings about his chief engineer’s argument, mostly because of his concern about the boy. Lee really had no place safe to go now.

And a very, very hard truth to face.

The com buzzed.

“Captain.”

That was Malcolm.

“Go,” Archer replied, trying to divide his attention between Reed and the scene still unfolding on the bridge.

“Makandros and Kairn. I’ve fixed their positions, sir. They’re leading twinned battle groups, just outside the Belt. And, Captain, extrapolating their trajectories, relative velocities-I think I know what they’re planning.”

“Cut to the chase, Malcolm.”

“They’re on an attack run, sir. Headed straight for Denari.”

The captain sat up straight. Reed had his full attention now.

“Show me.”

Malcolm sent the data to his screen. Archer took one look at it and saw his tactical officer was right.

“Hell,” the captain said, and stood up.

He walked out of the ready room, and into the middle of a heated argument between Trip, Kairn, and Makandros.

“Captain Duvall assured us,” Trip was saying, “she was the only one who ever knew that Sadir wasn’t the boy’s father. Talk to the kid. He didn’t even-“

“These two men have no desire to talk. They’ve already made their decision. To go to war,” Archer interrupted, looking up at the screen. “Isn’t that so?”

Now it was Makandros and Kairn who were surprised. Only for a second, though.

“Captain Archer,” the general said. “All recovered from your injuries, I see.”

“Don’t ignore my question, General.”

“We owe you no answers. Our plans are of no consequence to you.”

“We’re trying to help you.”

“Your concern is noted.”

“Don’t be this way, General. You know how many people are going to die if you attack.”

“And how many people are going to die if we don’t?” Makandros shot back. “There are times, Captain, when war is the only option.”

“There are. But you have another right now. Leeman Sadir.”

Makandros shook his head. “The boy is useless to us. As I’ve just finished explaining to your commander. Now if there’s nothing else-“

“I thought you wanted peace.”

“We want peace more than anything else, Captain. Believe me.” Kairn leaned forward in his command chair. “But a lasting peace-not one negotiated under false pretenses. Not a peace that could degenerate into an even bloodier conflict than the one we face now.”

“If you don’t want blood spilled,” the captain said pointedly, “then break off your attack.”

“Our intent is not to spill blood,” Kairn said. “Our intent-“

“Excuse me, Marshal,” Makandros interrupted. “As I told you earlier, Captain-our plans are none of your concern.”

“I’m trying,” Archer said through clenched teeth, “to help you-“

“Your help is not wanted,” the general said. “Do not attempt to interfere with our plans. Otherwise, I’ll be forced to attack Enterprise a second time.”

All at once, there was silence on the bridge.

The captain let it hang for another few seconds before responding.

“That would be a very, very stupid idea,” Archer said. “You’re not dealing with a crippled ship anymore.”

“And you would not be dealing with a general under orders to capture your vessel intact.”

The two men locked eyes a moment.

“I trust we understand each other,” Makandros said.

The screen went dark.

“They’ve cut the signal, sir,” Carstairs said.

Archer nodded, and sat down in his command chair.

Trip stepped up alongside him. “What’s this about an attack?”

Archer gestured to Malcolm, who filled Trip in.

“Doesn’t make any sense,” his chief engineer said. “Going after Elson in the Kresh? They might have a lot more ships than us, but there’s still no way that’s anything but a suicide run.”

“Maybe they’re hoping his forces will have their guard down while the Council meets,” Archer said, realizing even as he spoke that just the opposite would in fact be true. The PDC ships would be on high alert, with so many VIP’s in the Kresh.

“Or maybe,” he said slowly. “They’re not going to attack the Kresh at all.”

“Sir?” Trip asked.

Archer turned to his chief engineer. “Tell me about Denari. Assuming Makandros and Kairn aren’t foolish enough to attack the Kresh, what else could they be trying to do?”

“The planet has two continents. The Kresh is on the smaller one. The bigger one is where most of the population is.” Trip frowned. “I don’t know about targets there.”

Archer nodded, thinking.

Our intent is not to spill blood, Kairn had said. So what else could they be trying to do?

“The other continent is where those explosions were,” he said out loud.

“Charest,” Trip filled in.

“Right.”

“General Dirsch,” his chief engineer said. “I remember-Kairn said that he was one of the most powerful members of the Council. Maybe he survived. Maybe they found him.”

“And they’re going to join forces?” the captain asked.

“Could be.”

“Or,” Malcolm spoke up now, “they could be trying to establish a base there.”

Archer nodded. “Give themselves a supply line.”

“God knows the Guild can use supplies,” Trip said.

“Excuse me.” T’Pol stepped down from her station into the main bridge area. “Captain, this conversation is entirely academic, of course. Our efforts should now be focused elsewhere. Don’t you agree?”

Archer locked eyes with his science officer.

T’Pol was reminding him that they had other concerns-specifically, finding a way back through the anomaly to their own universe.

Except the captain wasn’t quite ready to give up on this one yet.

“Maybe,” Archer said. “And maybe not.”

He stood and headed for the turbolift.

“Sir? Where are you going?” Trip called after him.

“Cargo Bay D-2,” Archer said. “Commander Tucker, you have the conn.”

 

On a long mission such as Enterprise’s, massive storage space was required. Not just for food and other perishables, but for spare parts, specialized equipment, repair materials, and the like. Enterprise had multiple cargo bays to serve those purposes, one of which was bay D-2, located, not surprisingly, down on D-deck. During the first few months of the ship’s mission, it had been utilized primarily for items intended for trade with new species they encountered-replicas of art, artifacts, and other pieces of cultural significance. As those pieces were moved out, the idea had been to replace them with cultural artifacts from the civilizations they encountered.

For one reason or another, however, that sort of swapping had not taken place. Archer had found himself, instead, leaving items behind and receiving nothing in return. This had resulted in an almost completely empty bay D-2. It was a long, narrow room, shaped somewhat like an old-fashioned squash court, with a two-deck-high bulkhead facing the entrance. A perfectly flat wall, perfectly suited for bouncing a ball off. A room perfectly suited for letting a dog run wild in.

That was exactly what Porthos was doing when the captain arrived: running wildly after the tennis ball that Leeman Sadir had just thrown. His paws skittered on the hard metal surface as he chased after it, barking madly the whole while.

The boy was laughing. Yamani, a step behind him, was smiling too. Neither had heard the captain come in.

The captain gave them a few seconds more to enjoy the moment. Then he cleared his throat and spoke.

“Lee.”

The boy turned, and the smile disappeared from his face.

“What’s happening?” he said. “What did you decide? The Council meets in-“

“Less than two hours. I know.” Archer turned to Yamani. “That’ll be all, Ensign. Thank you.”

The man nodded and left the bay. The captain turned back to the boy. His face must have given him away.

“What’s the matter?” Lee asked. “Is something wrong?”

The captain sighed. “We have to talk.”

“About what?”

Archer didn’t even know where to start. How to start.

Porthos had caught up to the ball. He picked it up and bounded back over to Lee, dropping it at his feet. The boy ignored him.

“Captain?”

“Come with me,” Archer said, making his decision.

“Where?”

“My cabin,” the captain replied. “There’s something I want to show you.”

Archer bent, picked up the tennis ball, and led the way out of D-2, the boy and the dog following on his heels.

 

He sat Lee down and explained it in as few words as he could. Then, while the boy was still shaking his head, the captain activated his workstation and brought up a picture on-screen.

A picture of Henry Archer as he’d been at fourteen years old. A fishing trip somewhere, a pole slung over his back, in overalls and waders both two sizes too big for him.

Lee stared at it a good, long time. Continuing to shake his head, and then, at last, stopping, and just sitting motionless.

“It’s true,” the boy finally said. “I look just like him. Like you.”

“More him than me.”

The boy stood then, and began to pace.

“I don’t know why I never saw it before. My mother had pictures of you, and I looked at them, and I never once thought…”

“Not of me,” Archer said.

“I know. The you here, in this universe. Not that it matters. They lied to me.” He looked right at Archer. “So did you.”

The captain sighed. “I’m sorry, Lee. Believe me, I wish I didn’t have to tell you the truth now.”

“It doesn’t matter,” the boy said. “None of it matters.”

He sat down heavily on the captain’s bed.

“So you’re giving up?”

“What do you mean? What choice do I have? Makandros and Kairn want nothing to do with me.”

“You were willing to go to the Council without them before. Stand up to Elson.”

“That was before. Now I’m not…I’m nobody. I have no right there.”

“You have every right. You’re General Sadir’s son.”

“He was not my father.”

“Maybe not by blood, but you said it yourself, Lee. Everything you are, you owe to him.”

The captain let his words hang there a moment while he considered the irony of his defending the memory of a man who had murdered thousands of people.

“You wanted to be worthy of his memory,” Archer added gently. “This is your chance.”

“I understand that,” the boy finally said. “But Makandros and Kairn…what if they contact the Council? Tell them that-“

“I don’t think they will. Not in the middle of a surprise attack. Besides, even if they do, aren’t people likely to believe they’re simply trying to turn the Council against you?”

“Maybe.” Lee still looked uncertain.

Archer leaned closer. “They’ve already turned their backs on a chance to make peace, Lee. Do you want to do the same?”

The boy shook his head. “No, I don’t. But what happens afterwards? Even if we can stop the war, people will find out about me.”

“They might. But that’s afterwards. You have to decide what to do now.”

“You’re saying, put my life at risk.”

“If that’s what has to be done.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You wouldn’t be the one walking in there.”

“And if I went with you? Would that make a difference?”

“I don’t know. What does it matter? You can’t, right? People might see a resemblance.”

Archer frowned. That had been his thinking before, but now…

If he really had talked Lee into risking his life to stop this war, could the captain do any less?

The com sounded.

“Bridge to Captain Archer.”

The captain turned and cleared his father’s picture from the display. He brought up the bridge monitor.

Trip’s face filled the screen.

“Thought you’d want to know, Captain. Council meets in an hour.”

Archer nodded. Behind Trip, he saw Malcolm and T’Pol talking, heads bent together over the tactical station. Probably tracking Makandros and the Guild.

“Sir?” Trip asked. “Are you-Have you talked to the boy?”

“I have. He’s right here.”

“So he knows.”

“That’s right.”

“And? What are your thoughts now, Captain? Your plans?”

Archer frowned. I’m not sure, he was about to say.

At that moment, T’Pol straightened up at the sensor station. The captain’s eyes went to her, and all at once…

He had an idea.

Twenty-Eight

SOMEONE LET OUT a long, low whistle.

Trip couldn’t tell if it was Malcolm or Travis. Both of whom stared up at the viewscreen with expressions halfway between shock and amazement.

They were looking at the Kresh, courtesy of Enterprise’s sensors, rigged for maximum magnification.

Not that the Kresh needed magnifying.

“I told you it was big,” Trip said.

“You, ah, weren’t kidding,” Travis replied.

“I’ve seen smaller planets,” Malcolm said. He glanced down at his sensors. “Five minutes till we’re in range.”

“Transporter range, you mean?” Trip asked.

“Yes. Four and a half minutes till firing range. Their firing range. We can reach them from here with torpedoes, though I doubt we’d be able to do so with any real accuracy.”

Trip nodded grimly. “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. Any word yet?” he asked, turning toward Carstairs.

“Nothing, sir. They had to have picked us up by now.”

“They have. They’re just not quite sure what to do about it, is my guess.” Trip had an image in his mind of the command center above the Kresh, dozens of black-clad soldiers scurrying about, scrambling to man the gun emplacements in the cap atop the massive structure.

No. Dozens of soldiers was wrong. Hundreds. And within the Kresh itself, even more.

“Does anyone else,” he said, shaking his head slowly, “think this is a really bad idea?”

 

Lee was still staring at him, just as he’d been from the instant the captain had joined him on the transporter platform.

“It’s me,” Archer said. “I promise.”

The boy shook his head. “You don’t-I mean, I can barely recognize you.”

“That’s the whole point, isn’t it?” The captain smiled and turned to Ensign Duel, who was manning the transporter controls. And staring at him as well.

“You have our coordinates, Ensign?”

The man blinked and then looked quickly down at his console. “Yes, sir. Locked in, and waiting for a signal from the bridge.”

For a signal from Trip, who had been sitting with Duel and Lee for the last half hour, going through the layout of the Kresh based on his memory and the boy’s, and what sensor readings they’d been able to pick up from a distance. Enough information, his chief engineer felt, to enable them to beam in with a reasonable degree of accuracy.

Archer, of course, had been elsewhere. With Doctor Phlox. Getting altered so that spotting a resemblance between him and Leeman Sadir would be well-nigh impossible. Now, if there was anyone on board Enterprise the captain looked like…

It was Sub-Commander T’Pol.

He felt the tips of his ears one more time. Strange. Archer had had prostheses before, but there was something about wearing this particular makeup…

He could swear it was affecting his thinking. He felt a little more…logical.

“Bridge to transporter room.”

That was Trip. The captain nodded to Duel, who opened the com.

“Archer here. Go ahead.”

“Just heard from the Kresh, sir. We have thirty seconds to turn around, or they will consider our intentions hostile and act accordingly.”

“And how long until we’re in transporter range?”

“Longer than that.”

“Prepare for evasive action, then.”

“Travis is on it already, sir. Got a few tricks up his sleeve. Modified version of Rackham’s back door that should buy us a couple minutes, at least.”

“Good.”

“Captain,” Trip said hesitantly. “Are you sure-“

Before Archer could tell him yet again that he was indeed quite committed to the plan they’d come up with, the ship shook suddenly, violently beneath him.

That was no modified Rackham’s back door.

That was weapons fire.

“Was that thirty seconds already?” Archer heard Trip yell. “Damn. Sir-“

“Go,” the captain said.

“Good luck,” Trip replied hurriedly, and then broke contact.

The captain turned to Lee, who was looking at him anxiously.

“They’re firing on us.”

“Nothing we can’t handle.” He felt the ship surge beneath him, and offered Lee what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Modified Rackham’s back door, Archer thought. Maybe modified so they boomeranged around the orbital platform above the Kresh, and came right back in at their target. That’s how he would have done it anyway.

He thought about calling the bridge and suggesting it, and at that instant, T’Pol turned the corner and headed down the corridor directly toward them.

“Sub-Commander. Come to see what kind of Vulcan I make?” Archer asked, trying to lighten the mood.

As always, with T’Pol, it was wasted effort.

“No, sir.”

“You’re not going to try and talk me out of this again, because-“

The ship shuddered once more, not a weapons explosion but a different kind of stress altogether. Even with the inertial dampers on full, as Archer knew they were, he felt the hull strain to keep up with the maneuvers Travis was demanding of it.

“One minute,” Duel called out.

“Not that either, Captain,” T’Pol said. “I know that once you have set your mind on a course of action, your resolve is unshakable.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Archer said. “So why are you here?”

“To discuss certain…eventualities.”

“Oh?”

“Should you fail to return-“

“Oh no.” Archer shook his head. He did not want to talk about this sort of thing in front of the boy-Lee was nervous enough already. “I’m coming back. You can count on it.”

“I of course anticipate your mission will be successful. But we must be realistic, sir. If something disastrous does occur-“

The ship, of course, chose that moment to shudder again, even more violently. More evasive maneuvers. Not explosions, thankfully, but the boy didn’t know that, and suddenly looked another shade paler to the captain.

“Thirty seconds,” Duel said.

“We can’t talk about this now,” the captain said, casting a meaningful glance toward Lee.

T’Pol frowned. “There is, obviously, no other time we can talk about it, sir. Now as I was saying…”

Archer sighed. There was no stopping her, clearly.

“If you do not return, and we do not recover the data we need, I wish your permission to proceed to the nearest Vulcan outpost and use their facilities to search for ways back to our own universe.”

The captain considered her request a moment.

“Sir?” she asked.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he said.

“Later? Sir, as I said previously, there is no-“

Archer caught Duel’s eyes then. The ensign nodded.

“Later,” he said firmly, and then stood stock-still as the transporter beam took him.

To Archer’s satisfaction, they had successfully calculated to within a meter: they materialized in the very back of the huge hall Elson had spoken to them from earlier.

It was even bigger than the captain had thought, from his brief glimpse of it on Enterprise’s viewscreen. A vast dome, hidden somewhere inside the heart of the Kresh. Within it, several dozen rows of stepped horseshoe-shaped desks, each occupied by black-clad soldiers, Elson’s forces, and other men and women dressed in what he took for civilian clothes, the powerless delegates of the Presidium.

Those in power sat not in the hall, but at the very front of the chamber. Fourteen of them, on a raised dais, facing outward toward the others. The Council.

There was a fifteenth chair as well, at the center of the dais, that stood empty. Sadir’s old chair, Archer guessed.

Just in front of the dais was an elaborately carved wooden podium, visible as well on three huge video monitors, each easily twice the size of Enterprise’s main viewer, suspended high above the chamber floor.

As Archer and Lee watched, General Elson rose from one of the fourteen seats, stepped up to the podium, and began to speak.

“My fellow officers. Members of the Presidium,” he began. “You do me great honor by your presence here today. Your strength is my strength. Together, we will lead our planet to peace. As General Sadir would have wanted.”

Applause-muted, polite applause-greeted his words. Among those clapping, Archer saw Colonel Wooler at the far end of the dais. The man’s face was impassive-the captain couldn’t read him at all.

He hoped they’d judged him correctly, or he was going to wish he’d talked things out with T’Pol while he’d had the chance.

“Go,” the captain whispered to Lee.

Two soldiers flanked the aisle Lee had to walk down to reach the front of the chamber. At the sound of the captain’s voice, they turned.

“Who are you?” one said, stepping forward. “What are you doing…”

His voice trailed off as he recognized Lee.

“Go,” Archer said again, before the soldier had a chance to react.

The boy started to walk. He got a good four meters before the first head turned to look at him. Another meter before the whispers started.

By the time he was halfway down the aisle, the entire chamber was buzzing. On the screen, Elson faltered momentarily. He looked up, saw Lee, and for a split second, his expression darkened. Then he broke out into a broad smile.

“My friends,” he said. “A miracle. Leeman Sadir.”

The general threw his arms wide and stepped off the dais toward the boy.

He was the first-but not the only one-to embrace him. It seemed as if everyone in the chamber, soldiers and Council members and civilians alike, wanted to touch Lee, see him, assure themselves that the boy was really there with them. The boy himself was smiling, his eyes moist, as he accepted their greetings. Wooler had maneuvered himself next to Lee, was almost holding him up as the crowd continued to gather around him.

Archer’s eyes scanned the room, and he saw that Elson, who’d stepped back from the crowd, was now talking to one of his soldiers, his hand cupped over the man’s ear. Plotting.

The captain began to circle around the back of the huge hall, keeping his gaze fixed on the man Elson was talking to, trying at the same time not to draw attention to himself.

Elson resumed his position at the podium and raised his arms for quiet.

“Everyone, please,” he said, as the delegates took their seats. “I suggest that in light of Leeman’s return, we postpone our decision for at least-“

The boy, who was still standing just below the dais, engaged in conversation with Colonel Wooler, took a sudden step up. It put him right alongside Elson.

The general, all at once, looked uncomfortable. He tried to cover by embracing Lee again.

The boy stiffened and broke his hold.

Here we go, Archer thought, and opened his communicator.

“Archer to Enterprise.”

“Right here,” Trip’s voice shot back. “Captain, where the hell have you been? We’ve-“

“We cut it a little closer than we thought. You getting this?”

“Loud and clear, but-“

“Start transmitting,” Archer said. “Let’s hope they hear.”

“Aye, sir,” Trip said.

Leaving the channel open, Archer looked to the podium again. Lee had started to speak.

“With all due respect, General,” the boy said, “I believe it imperative that the Council continue this session. That we take up the issue of war-or peace-immediately.”

It was Elson’s turn to stiffen.

“Lee,” he said, trying to maintain the smile on his face. “I can only guess what you’ve been through these last few days. Let us postpone the session-postpone only, mind you-and give you a chance to recuperate. A few hours. That’s all.”

A few hours, during which Leeman Sadir would no doubt meet with some sort of accident. Or simply vanish into the vastness of the Kresh, never to be heard from again.

Lee shook his head. “No, sir. With all due respect, we have a brief window of time here-a chance to make peace. We have to seize it.”

Elson sighed. “Lee, we talked about this before. After Charest, there is no making peace with the Guild.”

“I don’t believe the Guild was necessarily responsible for what happened there.”

“I have evidence.” That was Wooler, who was approaching the podium. “I’ve told you this, Leeman.”

“I’d like to see it. I’d like to know what kind of evidence it is. Hard evidence or someone’s word?”

Archer smiled, hearing his own words come back to him.

He smiled a second time at the obvious discomfort he saw on both Wooler’s and Elson’s faces as they listened to the boy.

“Before we start a war on someone’s word, we should talk to them. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Talk to the Guild?” Elson almost spat out the words. “Never. They are not to be trusted.”

“What about General Makandros? Is he not to be trusted as well?”

“This is not what your father would have wanted, Lee.”

“All due respect-no one can know what my father would have wanted, General. He’s dead. The rest of us-we just have to carry on as best we can.”

The hall fell suddenly, eerily silent as the two-General Elson and Leeman Sadir-faced off at each other, the empty fifteenth seat on the dais behind them.

“I have every confidence in General Makandros,” the boy said. “In the Guild as well, for that matter. They, above all else, desire peace. I place my fate in their hands gladly.”

More of Archer’s words, coming back to him. Words that were hopefully reaching other ears at this moment.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Elson said. He nodded toward the soldier he’d spoken to earlier, who stepped forward now and took Lee’s arm.

That answered the only remaining question Archer had about Elson.

If the general couldn’t achieve his desired goal peacefully, he had no qualms about using whatever force was necessary to get what he wanted. Whatever mess resulted from that force…

He’d clean it up later. Or not.

Archer walked forward calmly then, drawing his weapon and talking into the communicator at the same instant.

“Trip,” he said.

“Sir?”

“The nearest Vulcan outpost,” the captain said. “That’s where you need to go if we can’t get that sensor data. T’Pol-“

Archer stopped in mid-sentence, because on the screen, he saw Lee try to shrug free of the soldier’s grasp. The man grasped his arm harder and began to drag him physically away from the podium.

Wooler stepped in front of him.

“Release the boy,” the colonel said. “Now.”

“Hold him.” Elson stepped between the two men, drawing his own weapon then.

Wooler looked from the General to Leeman Sadir, and then at the soldier holding the boy.

At that instant, static crackled over the assembly hall’s com system.

“This is General Makandros,” a voice sounded, from everywhere and nowhere at once. “I wish to address the Council-immediately.”

Archer smiled as the excited buzz of conversation broke out once more in the chamber. Trip had done it-managed to reach the Guild/DEF fleet and broadcast what was happening down here to them, courtesy of his communicator.

Elson’s face, up until that second the image of stoicism, cracked.

“Leeman Sadir is right to trust the Guild,” Makandros’s voice boomed out. “Because-“

Who moved first then, Archer could never be sure.

Elson, realizing that all his plans were about to come to naught, or the soldier he’d tasked with dragging Leeman Sadir away from the assembly. Both men, all at once, had their weapons pointed directly at Leeman Sadir.

There was no question, though, about who moved fastest.

Wooler was a blur on the dais.

He drew not one, but two weapons, and fired.

Elson and his lackey both crumpled to the ground.

So much for last-second rescues, Archer thought, and holstered his own weapons again.

“Is anyone there?” Makandros’s voice filled the chamber again. “What’s going on?”

Wooler stepped to the podium, and pressed a button there.

“One moment, General.”

Wooler turned to Leeman Sadir then, and exchanged a look with the boy. Then he walked to the empty fifteenth chair, and pulled it out for him.

As Leeman Sadir sat, the Council first, and then the entire assembly, broke out into applause.

“Sir?” Trip’s voice came over the communicator. “Everything all right down there?”

Archer’s eyes sought out-and found-those of Duvall’s son. For a second, the two shared a smile.

“Right as rain, Commander,” Archer said.