The Folded World (25 page)

Scott had taken his eyes off the screen for a
moment. He looked again and saw that Sulu was right. The
McRaven
was shuddering—not, his experienced eyes told him, breaking apart—and so was the Ixtoldan ship joined to it. Some of the other vessels around them were also being pulled out, but that was to be expected.

“Easy,” he said. “Easy does it, lad.”

“Aye, sir.” Chekov said, his hands shaking with the strain of controlling the beam.

Scotty slumped back in the captain's chair. This
had
to work.

He wouldn't allow himself to conceive of any other possibility.

The noise was awful.

The
McRaven
was joined to the Ixtoldan starship, and other ships were connected to that one as well, as if they'd been welded into one gigantic sculpture. As Bunker goosed the thrusters, applying brief bursts that they hoped would help the dual tractor beams pull the
McRaven
and its Ixtoldan counterpart free from the mass, the sound of groaning, straining metal reverberated all through the ship. Kirk felt it in his bones.

Come on, girl, hold together.

The captain allowed himself a fleeting grin. The noise meant something was happening. The tractor beams were having an effect.

He checked the bridge's main viewscreen. The nose-in configuration in which the
McRaven
had joined with the Ixtoldan ship meant that the screen was mostly filled with the other vessel's battered exterior. Its surface looked like something that might have dated from Earth's Industrial Ages, pitted and rusted, scraped and scarred. At the upper edge of the screen, some of the other ships were partially visible.

As the horrendous racket continued, Kirk could see movement. The Ixtoldan ship shifted noticeably, causing a ripple effect. “More thrust,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir,” Bunker said, adjusting the controls.

The Ixtoldan ship shifted, moving toward the
McRaven
. It completely filled the viewscreen, to the point that his crew members were leaning back from their stations. At the last instant, it stopped with a deafening squeal. At the top of the screen, Kirk noted, one of the previously attached ships had been jarred loose from the rest and was beginning to drift away.

“We're making progress,” he said. “More thrust.” Activating the comm, Kirk said, “
Enterprise
. Mister Scott, can you increase the tractor beam output?”

“
We're givin' you everything we got, Captain,
” Scotty answered. “
But I'll see if I can find you a wee bit more.
”

“Understood,
Enterprise
.
McRaven
out.”

“Mister Bunker, can you get any more out of the
McRaven
's thrusters?”

“I'm trying, sir, but it's a delicate balance. We're liable to tear the ship apart.”

“Give it a good burst and then shut them down,” Kirk said. “See if we can't rock her free.”

The ships gave another mighty groan, and the Ixtoldan craft loomed closer. When it heaved back, the ancient Romulan bird-of-prey had torn loose.

“What was that?” McCoy asked.

“The pull of the tractor beams, I believe,” Spock answered. “We are only marginally in control of this effort. The Ixtoldan vessel, caught between us and the mass of other starships, has its own momentum now and is rocking back and forth.”

“We need to try to rip the Ixtoldan ship away from those other vessels without letting it smash too hard against us,” Kirk said. “If it destroys the
McRaven,
we're trapped here.”

“We're counting on whatever the force joined the
McRaven
to it a few days ago being stronger than whatever seals exist between that monster and other ships that might have held for hundreds of years?”

“That about sums it up, Bones, yes.”

McCoy shook his head. “The things I let you talk me into.”

“Mister Bunker, sharp acceleration now, then shut down,” Kirk ordered.

Bunker complied. The
McRaven
pulled with the Ixtoldan ship's roll. The thrust was accompanied by another terrible screech of metal against metal. Then the Ixtoldan ship completely filled the viewscreen and made contact with the
McRaven
's upper saucer section. The sound of impact was the loudest yet, a crash like all the thunder Kirk had ever known roaring at once. The force knocked people from chairs, threw others to the deck. Sparks flew from instrumentation around the bridge.

“Status report!” Kirk commanded.

“There is some instrument damage,” Spock said after a brief diagnostic check. “But the systems in use appear to be operational.”

“Thrusters are still on line,” Bunker reported.

“We've moved, Captain,” Romer said. “Not a significant amount, but measurable, and in the right direction. Toward the
Enterprise
.”

Uhura's voice sounded over the comm system again. “McRaven,
are you all right over there?
”

“We're fine,” Kirk replied.

“
I don't know if you can see it from there, but you and the Ixtoldan ship have separated from most of the vessels around it. There are still a handful hanging on, but that's all.
”

“That's good to know,” Kirk said. “Keep those tractor beams pulling.”

“
Roger.
Enterprise
out,
” Uhura said.

“We're getting somewhere,” Kirk said. “We can't let up now.”

“Sir,” Bunker said, “the
McRaven
might not hold up to another hit like that.”

“That's a risk we'll have to take,” Kirk replied. “Give us another quick thrust. Let's try to jar the rest of those ships loose.”

Bunker swallowed and obeyed his captain's orders. The
McRaven
tugged and the Ixtoldan vessel followed, faster without the weight of the others holding it back. And again it made impact, although without as much
force behind it. The starship shook and complained, but held together.

“Keep it up,” Kirk said. “Keep rocking her. Once we've shed enough weight, those tractor beams will do the rest.”

“Aye, sir,” Romer said. “The sooner we're out of this anomaly, the better I'll like it.”

“That,” Spock replied, “may fairly be said of us all.”

•   •   •

Miranda Tikolo's head was pounding, and she kept hearing sounds like the fiery breath of dragons. After a while, she realized that she had been asleep, and that wakefulness was just on the other side of a thin but resistant veil. She struggled toward it, writhing and moaning with the effort.

“Easy, Miranda,” a gentle voice said, close to her ear. “Take it easy. You're safe now.”

“Is she waking up, Doctor?” another voice said. Both voices were familiar, though she couldn't place them.

“Looks that way.” She felt a firm pressure on her shoulder. “You're all right.”

“Miranda,” the second voice said. “Miranda, can you hear me?”

Tikolo tried to answer, but all she heard issue from her mouth was a squeak. She tore at the veil. Another roar sounded and the floor beneath her shuddered. “Whuh?” she managed.

“Don't pay that any attention,” the first voice said. “That doesn't concern you, Miranda.”

“She's coming around, isn't she?”

“Yes, Stanley. She's coming around. But don't push her. Let it happen at her own speed.”

Stanley. She
knew
that name. His was the second voice, and the first one belonged to . . .

She blinked, and a lined, friendly face hovered before her. Doctor McCoy;
his
was the first voice. She opened her eyes again, held them that way for several seconds before her eyelids fluttered closed again.

Someone—Stanley, she thought—gripped her right hand. Doctor McCoy was on her left. She was on her back, lying on something hard. And her head would not quit throbbing. Her stomach churned, and she tasted bile.

“You're going to be just fine, Miranda,” McCoy said.

She forced her eyes open once more. McCoy was crouched on the floor beside her. Turning her head made the throbbing worse and her nausea flare, but she saw Stanley sitting on her right, cross-legged on the floor, clutching her hand in both of his. His face was creased with worry.

“Miranda!” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “How do you feel? Are you okay?”

“Th . . . the doctor says . . . I am,” Tikolo replied. It took all the effort she could muster to force those words out.

“You were stunned, that's all,” McCoy said. “It's a
shock to the system, but there won't be any permanent effects.”

“That's . . . good,” she said weakly. “Because head . . . hurts like a son-of-a-bitch.”

Vandella barked a sudden laugh. “That's my gloriously blunt Miranda,” he said, crushing her hand in his.

“You're perfectly safe now, Miranda. How much do you remember?” McCoy asked her.

Panic shot through her. She tried to fight it back. Vandella and McCoy were right beside her, flanking her. There had been Romulans, but they appeared to be gone. She shifted her head, trying to ignore the queasiness, and took in a
Constitution
-class bridge. Somehow she knew it was not the
Enterprise
.

“That other ship,” she said. “Romulans . . . attacking us. Are they . . .?”

“All gone, Miranda,” McCoy said. “Nothing to worry about now.”

Memories flooded back to her then. The fight against the Romulans, when she and Bunker were pinned against a wall and facing overwhelming odds. Before that, she had been someplace close, tight, and looking at a vast battlefield. Tikolo remembered, although she had not at the time, that the battlefield was one from nightmares she'd had as a child and a teen, a recurring dream that had never failed to leave her gasping for breath, twisted in sheets she had soaked
with sweat. She had forgotten the dream, couldn't even remember the last time she'd had it, but she suspected it was before she entered Starfleet Academy. This time she had not been asleep, she was certain of that, but her mental state had been confused. There were gaps in her memory, places she couldn't recall what had happened, and her time on the Ixtoldan ship was a series of flashes, like life viewed under a strobe light.

“Can I . . . sit up?” she asked.

“I'd rather you didn't yet,” McCoy said. He pressed a hypo against her neck. “But if you take it real easy, then okay.”

The doctor and Vandella helped her to her elbows, but that was as far as she could go. Even with the hypo she felt dizzy; the bridge swam before her in sickening waves.

She saw familiar faces: the captain, Mister Spock, Eve Chandler, and others. There were some she didn't see, however: Greene, Ruiz, Beachwood, O'Meara.

“Paul?” she said. “Where's Paul?”

“I'm afraid he didn't make it,” McCoy replied. “We'll talk about that later. The important thing is that you're safe. You're—”

A terrible grinding noise drowned out whatever the doctor said next, and the floor jerked beneath her. She lost her balance and her head dropped toward the floor, but McCoy's hand was there first, catching her
and easing her down gently. She smiled up toward his kindly face.

“We have a lot to talk about, Miranda,” he said. “First we have to get back to the
Enterprise,
and when we do that, we'll have a nice long chat.”

“That . . . sounds good,” she said. Her eyelids fluttered again, and she let them close.

The viewscreen told the story. Their last thrust had succeeded in breaking the
McRaven
free from the Ixtoldan vessel, and that one from the rest of the pack.

“Steady on the thrusters, Mister Bunker,” Kirk said. “
Enterprise,
keep those tractor beams locked on us and the other ship.”

“
You're making good progress, Captain,
” Uhura replied. “
Just a few more minutes and you will clear the anomaly.
”

Kirk hoped she was right. The dimensional fold had not played any of its tricks for a while, but he remembered how unsettling it had been on the way in.

He had other concerns, as well. “Environmental suits on. We don't know how much damage was done to the hull when the ships separated, but it's entirely possible that our atmospheric system will fail at any moment. We'll stay suited up until we're safely on board the
Enterprise
.”

What was left of the landing party complied with his instructions. McCoy and Vandella put on their own suits, then helped Tikolo into hers.

Kirk had just taken the center seat again when the viewscreen went blank.

“What was that?” McCoy asked.

“The screen is fully functional,” Spock said.

Kirk stared at it. It was not quite white, not black, not exactly gray. He couldn't pin a color to it. As he held his gaze on it, it came to him that this might have been what the end of the universe looked like. No, not that—
beyond
the end of the universe. The universe was full of stars and dark matter, pulsars and cosmic rays, red giants and white dwarfs and black holes and unexplained anomalies. But this—the view outside the
McRaven,
if the screen could be believed—was nothingness. Empty. Simply . . . absence.

Looking at it chilled Kirk to his core. He tore his gaze away and saw that it had the same effect on the others. They watched with eyes wide, mouths agape, and more than a few were trembling at the sight.

Although it lasted less than a minute, it was a sight he would remember for the rest of his life. Reality, Kirk was learning, was surpassingly strange stuff. The physics he had studied only scratched at the surface of what was out here. The
Enterprise
was on a five-year mission of exploration, but that mission could be extended to five lifetimes, five millennia, and still there would be more to discover.