Star Trek: The Original Series: The Rings of Time

Six

2270

“Impact in thirty-nine seconds, Captain.”

All eyes were focused on the viewer as a slab of ice the size of an adult Horta came zooming at the dome protecting the Skagway colony. The frozen missile was accompanied by a rain of smaller particles from the outer rings. Flashes of blue Cherenkov energy flared whenever a sizable chunk struck the colony’s fading shields. It looked like an old-fashioned fireworks display.

“Fire at will, Mr. Chekov.”

A pair of brilliant sapphire beams, unleashed by the Enterprise’s forward phaser banks, converged on the speeding slab. The directed energy blasts disintegrated the massive object, which glowed brightly before dissolving into atoms. Vaporized water dispersed into the vacuum.

“Bingo.” Sulu grinned at Chekov. “Right on target.”

“Good shooting,” Kirk agreed. “You’re proving quite the sharp-eyed marksman, Mr. Chekov.”

The young ensign shrugged modestly. “Sadly, I am getting rather too much practice.”

Tell me about it, Kirk thought. The Enterprise had taken up a defensive position between Skagway and the crumbling rings of Klondike VI, where such exercises had become increasingly necessary. The colony’s own defenses were no longer sufficient to keep its population safe. More than a day had passed since the ship had arrived at Skagway, and the storms were getting worse by the hour. Fresh cracks and craters marred the battered surface of the moon. Anti-meteor phaser arrays had been smashed to pieces by the very hazards they’d been designed to fend off. The Yukon Gap was supposed to be relatively clear of the debris. The colony had not been designed to cope with a barrage of this magnitude. Even as Kirk watched, another slab of ice hit the moon’s uninhabited southern hemisphere. He guessed that the tremors could be felt from kilometers away.

The Enterprise was helping, but Kirk knew they were only buying time. As if the storms weren’t bad enough, Spock had confirmed that Skagway’s own orbit was deteriorating. The moon was doomed to spiral into the planet’s atmosphere — unless some manner of solution could be found.

“Shuttle approaching the Enterprise,” Uhura reported. “They’re requesting permission to come aboard.”

“Permission granted.” Kirk had been expecting this. Governor Dawson had promised to send her best person to consult with his crew. He activated his intercom. “Kirk to landing bay, prepare for company.”

On the viewer, the shuttle could be seen flying through the storm. Debris buffeted the small vessel, but its shields appeared to be holding. Kirk didn’t envy the pilot.

“Keep an eye on that shuttle,” he instructed, not wanting it to get nailed by an iceberg-sized missile before it reached the Enterprise. “Make sure it gets through intact.”

“Aye, sir,” Chekov said. “I will watch over it like a guardian angel.”

“Just hang on to your halo, Ensign,” Kirk quipped as he rose from his chair. He wanted to greet the delegation personally. “Would you please accompany me, Mr. Spock? I’m sure our guest would appreciate your scientific input.”

“Of course, Captain.” Spock stepped away from his station. “I am eager to ‘compare notes,’ as you might say, with the colony’s own expert.”

Kirk nodded at the helm. “Mr. Sulu, you have the conn.”

“Aye, sir.”

Sulu turned over the helm to Lieutenant Stoltzfus before taking the captain’s chair. Kirk happened to notice how much at home Sulu looked in charge of the bridge. Good, Kirk thought. He knew that Sulu had ambitions of having his own command someday. He’ll make a fine captain, I’m guessing. After he gets a bit more seasoning.

Spock joined Kirk in the turbolift. A short ride later, they arrived outside the shuttlecraft bay at the rear of the ship. “Shuttle acquired,” a voice announced over the intercom system. “Repressurizing landing bay.” Moments later, a green light flashed above the doorway, signaling that the deck was now safe to enter. Blue double doors slid open to admit them.

The shuttlecraft, which was smaller and of boxier design than the Starfleet models, rested at the center of the cavernous gray landing bay. Despite its shields, the shuttle’s exterior was freshly dented in places. Its outer plating had been dinged and chipped. Kirk was impressed that the pilot had been willing to fly through the barrage to get here.

A single passenger exited the shuttle. Slight of figure, Qat Zaldana wore a neatly tailored emerald blazer and matching skirt. Dark hair was piled atop her head in a beehive. A metallic gold veil completely concealed her face, making her age hard to determine. The veil seemed to be composed of dozens of overlapping sequins that sparkled like a transporter effect. Kirk wondered how she could see through the shimmering fabric.

“Welcome to the Enterprise,” he greeted her. “I’m Captain Kirk, and this is my first officer, Mr. Spock.”

“Pleased to meet you, gentlemen.” She crossed the landing pad to join them. A shiny silver carry bag was slung over her shoulder. “I only wish the circumstances were less dire.”

“As do I,” he agreed. “But thank you for coming.”

According to Governor Dawson, Qat Zaldana was Skagway’s chief scientist and astronomer. Kirk was anxious to hear her views on the crisis threatening the colony. He offered her his arm. “If you’ll allow me.”

“You don’t need to guide me, Captain,” she said with a chuckle. “I can see perfectly well through my veil.”

“It is composed of a sensor web, is it not?” Spock surmised.

“That’s quite right, Mr. Spock. I belong to the Order of the Faceless, whose teachings require us to keep our visages to ourselves,” she offered by way of explanation. “I assure you, I am not a Klingon in disguise.”

“I never thought you were,” Kirk said. He was not familiar with the sect she had mentioned but had no intention of asking her to compromise her beliefs. The Federation embraced all manner of creeds and philosophies, some more esoteric than others. “But I’m impressed by the craftsmanship of your veil.”

Miranda Jones had worn a similar fabric, he recalled, but for a different reason. Apparently, the shimmering fabric was made of dozens of miniature sensors strung together in a complex lattice that probably allowed Qat Zaldana to perceive her surroundings better than either he or Spock could. For all he knew, she could see right through him — literally.

He couldn’t help wondering what she looked like.

“This old thing?” she joked. “I’ve had it for years.” She turned her shrouded face toward Spock. “I must say, Mr. Spock, I’m looking forward to working with you on this problem. Your reports to the Vulcan Science Council have made fascinating reading. I was particularly intrigued by your theories regarding temporal mechanics and mirror universes.”

“Indeed?” Spock was too Vulcan to be visibly flattered by their guest’s praise, but Kirk thought he detected a hint of pride in his friend’s voice. Or perhaps Spock simply appreciated encountering an equally scientific mind. “I hope you found my work illuminating.”

“Very much so,” she insisted. “I have to ask, do you really think that the long-term relativistic side effects of the so-called slingshot maneuver can be calculated by means of a factored transdifferential equation?”

“That depends on the constancy of acceleration and the maximum fungibility of the space-time continuum. There are many other variables to consider as well.”

“Such as the possibility of a quantum rift?”

“Precisely.”

Kirk smirked in amusement. “I hate to break up this small talk, but perhaps we should get down to business?”

“Of course, Captain,” she said apologetically. Her voice took on a more somber tone. “Is there somewhere we can talk? I have new data that may be of interest to you.”

“We can speak in the briefing room,” Kirk suggested. Before escorting her out of the landing bay, the captain cocked his head toward the parked shuttle. “What about your pilot? I imagine he might like to relax in one of our rec