Mere Anarchy Book 1: Things Fall Apart Read online

  Star Trek™: Mere Anarchy

  Book 1: Things Fall Apart by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore

  COMING SOON:

  Book 2: The Centre Cannot Hold by Mike W. Barr

  Book 3: Shadows of the Indignant by Dave Galanter

  COMING IN 2007:

  Book 4: The Darkness Drops Again by Christopher L. Bennett

  Book 5: The Blood-Dimmed Tide by Howard Weinstein

  Book 6: Its Hour Come Round by Margaret Wander Bonanno

  An Original Publication of POCKET BOOKS

  POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.,

  1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2006 by CBS Studios Inc. All Rights Reserved. STAR TREK and related marks are trademarks of CBS Studios Inc.

  CBS and the CBS EYE logo are trademarks of CBS Broadcasting Inc.

  All Rights Reserved.

  This book is published by Pocket Books, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc., under exclusive license from CBS Studios Inc.

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  ISBN: 1-4165-3437-7

  POCKET and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

  Visit us on the World Wide Web:

  http://www.SimonSays.com/st

  http://www.StarTrek.com

  IN TRIBUTE

  Paul Carr

  February 1, 1934–February 17, 2006

  SIX MONTHS AGO

  CHAPTER

  1

  “First Consul, believe me when I tell you that every living thing on this planet is going to die.”

  Mino orDresha felt frustration mounting even as she delivered the blunt, harsh statement. Despite that, she still was satisfied at finally getting the reaction she sought from Flen etHamwora, watching as his pale, withered features tightened for the first time into a mask of genuine concern.

  “You are absolutely certain, my friend?” the first consul asked, his faint and raspy voice one of the more overt symptoms of neplatrenu, the degenerative disease with which he had been diagnosed during the previous season. Acting on the directions of his advisors, Flen had chosen to keep his affliction concealed from the public he had been elected to serve, a course of action that only would have become harder as time passed and his condition worsened.

  Not that any of that matters now, Mino mused with only a slight degree of bitterness as she regarded Flen, the first consul’s aged, diminutive body seeming even paler than normal and all but swallowed by his high-back chair as he sat behind the simple, uncluttered desk that was his spacious office’s prominent piece of furniture. While neplatrenu was not fatal in all cases, it was a virtual certainty that Flen would not survive long enough to see the disease run its course.

  “I have checked my findings three times, First Consul,” Mino replied. “There is no error. I remained silent while I verified the data, as you directed, but now that it is confirmed we must take action.”

  “I do not understand,” Flen said after a moment, turning in his seat in order to take in the breathtaking view of Yabapmat, the sprawling city that had served as the capital of the Gelta nation-state for thirty-eight generations. “How can something so far away present such an enormous threat?”

  Mino sighed. Though she had attempted to describe the scope of what the planet faced, she knew that Flen’s impatience and inability to grasp the finer aspects of the sciences would only serve to prolong this discussion. “Yes, it is true that the object we detected is a great distance away, and in fact will never actually collide with or pass very close to Mestiko. That is not the issue here, First Consul.”

  Deep-space telescopes had detected the object three lunar cycles ago, and it had taken nearly every waking moment since then to corroborate what Mino had feared upon her initial analysis of the telescopes’ collected data telemetry: The rogue phenomenon—essentially a compact star moving through space—was emitting lethal levels of radiation. While the object’s path would not bring it into proximity with Mestiko, that did not matter, as the radiation it emitted would wash over the surface of the planet, destroying its atmosphere and inflicting a death sentence upon all life harbored by it.

  Those most fortunate would perish quickly as the event occurred, rather than survive a brief aftermath characterized by immense, unremitting suffering from which there would be no escape.

  Flen swiveled his seat so that he could see Mino again, his expression still retaining a large measure of doubt. “You will have to forgive me, my friend, but this prediction of yours is a bit much to take in all at once. It does at first sound quite outlandish, would you not agree?”

  Once more Mino felt frustration as well as the first hint of anger as she listened to Flen’s continued denial. “First Consul, I have been your chief science advisor since you took office. You know that I am not disposed to alarmist theories or reckless, uncorroborated declarations. I stand before you today and tell you without any doubt or reservation that our world is doomed, and that we must act if we are to have any hope of preserving anything of our people or our culture.” Indeed, Mino’s entire career had been devoted to the sciences and the pursuit of knowledge, to say nothing of the careful weighing and investigation of each new piece of information. Working alongside some of the greatest minds in history, she labored to understand not only the origins of the Payav but also their place among the other worlds and peoples that must inhabit the universe.

  And it was that part of my work that was just beginning to show such promise.

  Flen placed his frail, withered hands atop the polished surface of his desk. “You misunderstand me, my dear friend. It is not that I doubt you, for you have served not only the people of Gelta but me personally with unflagging loyalty and integrity.” He paused to release a small cough, as though the act of speaking at such length was becoming a strain. “The problem I face is my own, for I find myself unable to decide how best to proceed in the face of what you tell me is an inalterable fate for our civilization.”

  Not for the first time, Mino felt the impulse to simply shout that which she had been keeping contained within herself. It was a struggle that had grown ever more difficult with the dawn of each new day that itself was but one of a dwindling number left to her people. The answer to Flen’s question and perhaps even the dire fate that apparently had been levied on Mestiko might well be within her grasp. She had only to speak the words.

  I cannot, she reminded herself yet again.

  Instead, Mino said to the first consul, “Based on the technology available and the time remaining to us, we have nothing that might be employed to destroy the object, alter its path, or protect against its effects. However, there is something else we can consider.”

  She paused, stepping around Flen’s desk so that she might study the expansive Yabapmat cityscape, which she had called home for nearly her entire adult life. For a brief moment, she imagined it scorched by fire, enveloped in dust and smoke, drenched in acidic rain, with millions of its inhabitants lying dead in the streets or huddled inside their homes, fearfully waiting for a merciful end.

  Enough!

  Forcing away the gruesome imagery, she returned her attention to Flen. “We have developed the ability to propel a spacecraft faster than light. We can increase its scope to ac
commodate one or more larger craft, capable of supporting a representative sample of our people. They would be a group who might carry forth our heritage, perhaps to begin anew on another world somewhere far from here.”

  Flen’s eyes grew wide as he listened to Mino’s proposition. “That is quite poetic, my friend, but is it practical? How are we to select such a sample of survivors to carry on our name and culture? How do we ensure that an equal representation of all the peoples of our planet is created? Most important, how do we go about such a venture without inciting a global panic?”

  “I do not know,” Mino said. “That is not my area of expertise. I can only provide you with facts and my opinions on how best to proceed. The rest is up to you.”

  Remaining silent for a moment, the first consul rose from his chair, using an ornately carved wooden cane to support his aged body as he moved closer to the window. He placed his hand on the thick, ovoid glass of the portal, and Mino saw him close his eyes as though attempting to commune with the city and landscape beyond. After several moments, he turned back to Mino.

  “The answer, my friend, is that we cannot.”

  Mino did not respond at first, unsure that she had heard Flen correctly. Shaking her head, she said, “I do not understand.”

  “We cannot proceed as you have recommended,” the first consul replied, “not without causing worldwide calamity.”

  Frowning, Mino asked, “You are suggesting we remain silent, even now?” She held up a hand. “No, it is more than that. You actually believe we should take active steps to ensure the public remains uninformed about this.”

  Flen nodded. “I do not see that we have a choice.” Waving toward the window, he indicated the city. “Once the people learn of what is to come, our entire civilization will likely crumble and descend into chaos and terror. People will turn on one another, perhaps even sacrificing their fellow Payav in the hopes of securing their own safety, which of course will be a futile effort. We essentially will see to our own fate before it can be visited upon us.”

  “How do you propose to keep such an enormous secret?” Mino asked.

  Making his way back to his desk, Flen lowered himself into his chair before replying, “There are only two other nations that currently possess the technology to detect the object’s approach as we have. It would be best to alert those leaders, so that we might coordinate how best to proceed. I imagine they will feel similarly with regards to informing their respective peoples. After that, I imagine we shall also need to alert the other members of the Zamestaad.”

  Mino nodded in agreement. Given the information and options currently at his disposal, there was of course no faulting Flen for what he was contemplating. Notifying the global security council—created nearly three generations ago in the aftermath of the last great worldwide conflict and which to this day served as a body whose sole mission was to prevent future wars—was a prudent course of action. Once more, Mino felt herself longing to provide her friend and leader with another option, one he likely would not consider even in the most desperate of times.

  No! The command echoed in her mind, seeming as though she had shouted it aloud to herself. I gave my word that I would not divulge what I know.

  Drawing a deep, calming breath, she instead asked, “First Consul, what will you do when the people learn not only what is happening, but also that their leaders chose to keep that information secret?”

  Flen offered a small, wizened sigh. “We will address that issue when it presents itself, my friend.” Releasing a small, tired smile, he added, “For now, and as odd as it might seem, I must tend to the normal business of the Gelta people. I trust I can depend on you to do as you have already done, to keep this information to yourself, in the interests of preserving the peace so long as we are able?”

  “You have my word, First Consul,” Mino replied. “I and those I have already entrusted with this information will obey your directive.”

  Knowing that she likely would be spending an increasing amount of time in these chambers in the days to come, Mino took her leave of the first consul. Her body seemed to carry her back toward her offices of its own volition, leaving her mind free to reflect on her world and the inability of anyone currently living upon it to do anything about the crisis it confronted. She wanted to believe that it was how the people of Mestiko faced what was to come that would define them as a people for all time and in the eyes of those who one day would learn of what was to happen here.

  It was also something she feared, never more than as she entered her office and beheld the lone figure standing there, waiting for her.

  “Thank you for coming,” she said, turning to close her heavy, soundproofed door and ensuring its lock was engaged, thereby concealing from anyone who might happen by the presence in her office of the being from another world.

  CHAPTER

  2

  “I thought you might want to talk,” said Dr. Nathan Apohatsu as he watched Mino secure the door. Though he had met with the Payav scientist several times in recent months, this was the first time she had summoned him. In keeping with the protocols he had established at their first meeting, all contact was to be initiated by him or a member of his team, which at Starfleet direction had been in place on Mestiko and observing the people of this planet for nearly a year. The controls were enacted as much for the protection of Apohatsu and his team as the local population, who of course had no inkling that visitors from space walked among them.

  “I know I should not contact you,” Mino said as she moved toward her desk, which appeared on the verge of overflowing with uneven stacks of papers, folders, and various other assorted office-related detritus, “but given the circumstances I thought this warranted the deviation from procedure.”

  Watching her settle herself into her old yet still comfortable-looking chair, Apohatsu could not help but notice that she appeared to have aged considerably since the last time he had seen her less than a month previously. He saw the new lines around her eyes and mouth, and that her skin seemed even more ashen than the already pale pigmentation that was normal for her race.

  Fate truly is a cruel bastard, Apohatsu considered, and not for the first time. The Payav had been of interest to the Federation from the moment they had learned of Mestiko’s progression to faster-than-light technology, thanks to a passing Andorian passenger transport’s sheer chance detection of the unrecognized—and decidedly primitive—warp signature while traveling in proximity to the planet’s star system. As it was the nation-state of Gelta that had developed the successful prototype warp ship, Federation officials decided it was their culture that merited closer observation, bringing about Apohatsu’s assignment—along with two other cultural observation specialists—to study the society as well as the dozens of other independent states that formed the planet’s sociopolitical landscape. In Apohatsu’s opinion, the Payav showed great potential to one day be a valuable member of the Federation. As such, he had been transmitting promising status reports for months, and had been prepared to recommend that formal first contact with Mestiko be initiated.

  Then, the pulsar had been detected.

  As part of their ongoing cultural observation of the Payav—itself an exercise in preparation for formal first contact proceedings to be initiated by the Federation—Apohatsu and his team had learned of the approaching pulsar as part of their continuous monitoring of all planetary communications. Studying the data collected by the Gelta space agency’s telescopes, the Starfleet team had come to the same staggering initial conclusions about the rogue space body and its lethal effects as those reached by Payav scientists. Even as Mino and the Gelta government’s science ministry worked to corroborate their findings, Apohatsu himself had been transmitting information back to Starfleet Command in the hopes of getting a more refined analysis of the telemetry. Once that verification had come, it had been with a heavy heart that he met with Mino to confirm her worst fears.

  He watched as Mino reached up to caress her smooth, ba
re scalp, the six digits of her right hand brushing over the small, intricate pattern rendered in dark maroon ink along the top of her skull. Not for the first time, he found his eyes drawn to her neck, thin and longer than that of most other humanoid species with which Apohatsu was familiar but which was normal for the Payav. It always had struck him as one of Mino’s more alluring physical characteristics.

  “I find myself in the unfamiliar position of not knowing what to do next, my friend,” she said, gesturing Apohatsu to the only other chair in her office, which featured a sloped backrest but was still not altogether different from an overstuffed recliner with which he might furnish his study in his Okinawan home on Earth.

  “So,” she said after recounting her meeting with First Consul Flen, finishing with Flen’s decision to withhold knowledge of the pulsar from the public, “those who do or will know about the Pulse will say nothing. Every discussion will be uttered in hushed whispers; every report from this time forward will be couched in code and cipher. No one will know anything until it is too late, and after that, nothing will matter.”

  “Flen’s reaction isn’t unexpected,” Apohatsu replied. “In fact, there are plenty of arguments that keeping the Pulse secret is for the best.”

  He paused, blinking at his own use of the colloquial—if largely inaccurate—term by which Mino had taken to calling the approaching pulsar and its anticipated effects. In the months since he had begun secretly meeting with Mino, he had picked up a good bit of the language used by the majority of Gelta citizens, but he still relied upon the universal translator he wore on his belt to help him. Because of that, he occasionally caught himself employing various idioms and other shorthand used by Mino in their periodic conversations.

  “Better to die ignorant and happy rather than informed and terrified?” Mino said, the words sharp as she spoke them. She shook her head. “Given a choice, I do not know if that is the option I would want.” Looking across her desk at Apohatsu, she then smiled. “Of course, if I had chosen the career my parents wished for me and become a musician, I would be much happier this evening, yes?”