The lesser beings had somehow managed to sever her mental link with the rest of the planet’s assets as well as her ability to commune with the Conduit. No longer could she access the global defense system—which she had spent a great deal of time improving after the last encounter with the Telinaruulvessel. She did not comprehend how such a feat might be possible, nor could she spare the time or energy to investigate. The Wanderer could do nothing so long as she was trapped within the confines of this physical shell. She required direct access to the Conduit.
There was little time, she knew. Her connection to this shell was fading, and her consciousness was at risk of becoming completely disassociated for eternity—from the Sentinel as well as the Conduit—if she could not find a means of escape. Also, the Telinaruul,no doubt emboldened by their limited success, would be coming. Consumed by the desire to possess what was not rightfully theirs, they would follow her, their goal one of greed, or of lust. It mattered not what propelled the interlopers, for it would not be enough to protect them from the final defensive option at the Wanderer’s disposal.
Entering the Conduit and attempting to access various points around the planet’s information network told her that the efforts of the Telinaruulhad been more comprehensive than first surmised. Only assets at her location were available to her, though much of those connections also had been compromised. Sending forth tendrils of purpose and determination, the Wanderer activated the final protocol, the only option remaining to her that might safeguard at least some of the secrets of the Shedai.
Interfacing with the Conduit via physical contact was a sensation that existed only in her earliest memories. It was a rudimentary approach, typically useful only in teaching children the fundamentals of navigating the thoughtspace until such time as a Shedai’s latent abilities manifested themselves.
Now, it was the only option the Wanderer possessed.
Her joy at carrying out her duty was short-lived, as she felt the drain upon her consciousness. The assets she required floated in and out of her grasp, her capacity to control them limited by her impeded ability to extend herself through the Conduit. Her strength and life ebbing with each passing moment, the Wanderer felt the momentary glow of energy pouring forth from the belly of the planet, racing upward and outward to do her bidding, but the next instant it was lost, fading into nothingness as though it never had existed.
Protecting the interests of her people was no longer within her power. Reaching out with one of the few surviving tendrils available to her, she sensed the approach of the Telinaruul. Capture was unthinkable, though she suspected she would not survive even if she allowed such a repulsive action to take place.
No, the Wanderer decided. There was but a single course to follow. She must survive in order to continue the fight. The Telinaruulmight celebrate their victory here today, but such triumph—in keeping with their simple existence—ultimately was fleeting. The Shedai had waited uncounted generations for their chance to return to their rightful station as rulers of all that was known.
They could wait a while longer.
40
Diamond was the first to enter the chamber, stepping over pieces of fallen rock and through the ragged hole in the stone wall, the phaser rifle she had taken from one of her security officers leading the way. Xiong followed on her heels, his hand phaser also out and aimed ahead of him. Carrying his tricorder in his free hand, he studied the unit’s display screen once more before tapping Diamond on the shoulder. He pointed toward an archway carved out of the stone wall, from which filtered feeble, wavering lighting.
“That way.”
Upon realizing that the region of Erilon on which they stood was not, apparently, in any danger of blowing up, and pausing momentarily to offer up a measure of thanks—to those deity or deities who might be listening for the stroke of immense good fortune they had chosen to visit upon the landing party—Xiong immediately had convinced Captain Khatami to allow a search party to remain on the surface.
“Are you tempting fate, Lieutenant?” Khatami had asked, finally relenting to the request after retrieving the balance of the landing party. Though the captain might not possess all of the knowledge pertaining to the Taurus Reach, she knew enough to understand that whatever risk might be involved, the stakes warranted it—particularly given the appalling costs that already had been incurred.
Sensors had registered new power readings emanating from another location far beneath the ancient structure’s long-dead control room—the same spot that he had detected earlier. Xiong at first was confused how such a reading could be possible, given his understanding that nothing but solid rock existed beneath the chamber, which had been the focal point of his research on this planet since his initial exploration of the alien artifact.
“Like I said before,” the engineer offered as the trio followed the readings from Xiong’s tricorder deeper into the millennia-old ruins, “appearances can be deceiving.”
Following the path of the retreating creature into the depths of the artifact with the only illumination provided by handheld lights to guide them, the Starfleet officers could not admit surprise when they came across the hole leading through the rock wall of the passageway. Obviously not created in the same meticulous manner that characterized the corridors and chambers throughout the artifact, this opening appeared to have been blasted from whatever lay beyond. Evidence of the unrefined work lay all around them, fragmented chunks of stone and dirt littering the floor.
With al-Khaled following behind them, Diamond led Xiong toward the illuminated entryway. Drawing closer, Xiong could make out a low, droning hum coming from the chamber, the source of whatever was generating the power readings he tracked with his tricorder.
I can’t believe it. We’re finally here.At last, he and his companions were about to come face-to-face with what he had sought since first discovering the vast storehouse of mind-numbing technology.
“Faint life signs,” he whispered, reaching up to adjust one of the tricorder’s controls. “I’m barely picking it up, and it’s fading fast.”
“Dying?” Diamond asked, her expression itself posing the same question.
Xiong nodded. “I think so.”
Motioning for him and al-Khaled to hug the wall behind her, Diamond inched toward the entryway. She aimed the barrel of her phaser rifle through the opening, slowly sweeping the room before exposing herself to possible attack. A moment later Xiong watched as her body stiffened and she even recoiled a step before turning to him. “Look at this.”
She entered the doorway, and Xiong and al-Khaled followed. Xiong stopped as his eyes took in the sight before him.
“Oh, my,” was all he could whisper as he beheld what at first appeared to be the mirror image of the control room far above them. What distinguished this chamber from that other room was, of course, the buzz of activity and life permeating the atmosphere here. The chamber’s far wall was dominated by an array of control consoles all but identical to the ones Xiong had studied for weeks, save for the fact that the equipment here was functioning. Status monitors depicted graphics and text in a language the lieutenant had no hope of understanding. Rows of multicolored indicators flashed in irregular sequences and at varying frequencies, offering no clue as to their function.
Standing before all of it was the creature.
Instinct brought Xiong’s weapon hand up, the phaser training on the dark, stationary figure, but he did not fire. Only then did he realize that the thing was not so much standing before the collection of control mechanisms as it was sagging against it.