Foundations Book Two Page 6

Inspecting another section of metal, apparently a door panel from one of the ship's interior hatches, Lindstrom shifted it aside to get a look at what lay underneath. "Scotty, I think I may have something here." Moving the door panel completely out of his way, he added, "Are these what I think they are?"

  Their interest piqued, Scott and al-Khaled abandoned their own searches to join the sociologist. Getting a look at what Lindstrom had found, the engineer gasped in surprise.

  "My dear mother's mother," he said. "Those look like old-style spatial torpedoes." Long and slender, the dull silver casing of the torpedoes appeared to be largely undamaged, possessing few marks other than the standard Starfleet codes and serial numbers stenciled on their exteriors. These weapons were not nearly as powerful as the photon torpedoes carried by modern-day starships like the Enterprise, but they had still packed quite a punch in their day.

  "That's exactly what they are," al-Khaled replied, making no effort to contain the rising excitement in his voice. With Scott and the others assisting, the younger engineer directed the movement of the torpedoes to where he could better inspect them. The next several minutes were spent in silence as al-Khaled gave the weapons a fast visual once-over.

  "All three look to be fully operational," he announced, "at least as far as I can tell. Amazing, isn't it?"

  Scott shook his head in near disbelief. "Aye. Things in those days were built to withstand all sorts of harsh punishment and to last a long time, but this… well, this is definitely beyond the warranty period."

  "These might be powerful enough to use against Landru," al-Khaled said. "We can set them to detonate either individually or together. It would be no trouble to set them to a timer or to a remote control."

  "Landru would never permit you to move such weapons close to the central core," Marplon said. "He would either deactivate them before they detonated or else he would simply send an army of Lawgivers to repel you."

  "And we canna launch 'em," Scott added, "nor could we guide them once they were launched."

  Shaking his head in frustration, al-Khaled swore under his breath. "Besides, all of those options would likely destroy the central computer, and we'll still need it to keep things running here." The engineer began to pace the room. "There has to be a way to disable the machine without destroying it." Then he eyed the torpedoes again. "Wait. What about a bomb without the blast?"

  Scott looked askance at his friend. "I don't follow ye, lad."

  "We tune the torpedoes not to detonate their charges, but to channel their explosive energies into an electromagnetic pulse. That should short out the active Landru routines without causing catastrophic damage to the equipment."

  "But," Scott said, "it'd also wipe out the other computer systems we've been working on for a week. That's a lot of effort to sweep away, Mahmud."

  Waving the comments aside, al-Khaled shook his head. "Listen. We'd have to coordinate a shutdown of the active power systems that we've established. The pulse won't affect any inactive power sources. We have eighty people in the city, Scotty. That's more than enough people to cover all the bases." Indicating Marplon with a nod of his head, he added, "And we have Elders to help us, as well."

  "Getting all of that in order will take some time," Lindstrom said. "Landru may not give it to us."

  Nodding, al-Khaled replied, "Then we had better get started."

  Chapter

  7

  Chaos reigned supreme.

  At least, that was the way it looked to Scott as he stared with a mixture of fascination and horror at the disorder that was quickly descending upon the city. From his vantage point, looking through a basement-level window of the command center, Scott could see citizens fighting and running amok in every direction. Others who had taken up their roles as Lawgivers once again moved slowly yet purposefully through the crowds, assisting in the roundup of those who still retained their free will.

  Scott heard footsteps behind him. Turning, he saw that it was Lindstrom.

  "Something wrong, Chris?"

  The sociologist smiled in response. "I'm something of a fifth wheel until al-Khaled finishes with the torpedoes." He indicated where al-Khaled and Lieutenant Ghrex, the female Denobulan engineer from the Lovell, were still working feverishly, all but oblivious to anything going on around them.

  After moving the torpedoes from the subterranean cache to the command center, al-Khaled had wasted no time turning to the task of reconfiguring the weapons to emit the electromagnetic pulse needed to disable Landru's central processing core. Though Scott considered himself fairly knowledgeable when it came to ship-based weaponry, the century-old torpedoes were an unfamiliar model to him. The engineers from the Lovell, however, with their experience serving aboard a near-relic from the same era as the Archon, were more than equal to the task. With time being of the essence, Scott had elected to step aside and allow the others to work until they called for him.

  But when I get back to the Enterprise, he decided, I've got some catch-up learnin' to do.

  "Well," he said, "there's still plenty for us to do before this is over. Have ye made the other arrangements we need for this crazy plan to work?"

  Nodding, Lindstrom replied, "Everything's underway right now." Consulting the chronometer displayed on his tricorder's monitor, he added, "We've got about fifty-seven minutes to go. Reger and Marplon are already coordinating with other former Elders, getting the people we need into the key positions. If anyone knows how to organize this city, it's the Elders. Even Hacom is helping us." Shrugging, he added, "I think he feels guilty over what's happened, even if he had no conscious control over his actions."

  "Aye, I hope so, lad." While the timetable they had established for this plan had seemed too rushed at first to Scott, the engineer knew that delaying the operation any longer would seriously jeopardize their chances of succeeding.

  Lindstrom held up his tricorder. "They also helped me to pinpoint the best place to position the torpedoes." Turning the unit for Scott to see, he indicated the small display screen with a finger. "Landru's central processing core is almost directly below the center of the city."

  Studying the information on the tricorder's display, Scott frowned. "That area's also very heavily shielded, as I recall. From the readings Mr. Spock took with the Enterprise sensors, that underground area was built to withstand anything short of an orbital bombardment. We'll have to be almost on top of the bloody thing if this is going to work."

  "The Town Square," Lindstrom said. Nodding in the direction of the basement window and the pandemonium ensuing beyond it, he added, "And we'll probably have to fight every step of the way to get there. Reger told me that Landru has already regained control of all Lawgivers and that people who need to be reabsorbed are being rounded up. At the rate they're moving, the entire city could be back under Landru's control by nightfall."

  Scott nodded, closing his eyes momentarily as he listened to the sounds of disorder on the streets outside. In addition to the chaos already taking place, reports had come in that Landru had also regained total control of its complex security system. Neither the Lovell nor even the Enterprise, which was at this moment on its way back to Beta III to retrieve him, would be able to safely assume orbit around the planet until that security grid was disabled.

  They turned to see al-Khaled walking over to join them. The engineer was wiping his hands with a towel and was wearing a small smile on his dirty, tired face.

  "We're finished, Scotty," he said. "All three torpedoes have been reconfigured and tested. Together, they should produce a pulse more than enough to disable any active power source."

  "Nice work, lad," Scott replied, letting his gaze wander over to where Ghrex was reattaching an anti-gravity unit to the trio of torpedoes, which had been bundled together with packing straps Lindstrom had found in one of the tool kits brought down from the Lovell. With the anti-gravs, two men would be able to guide the weapons with one hand each, leaving the other free to carry a phaser. Scott knew, though, that who
ever was staffing the units would have their freedom of movement compromised.

  "Mahmud," he said, "you and I will see to the torpedoes. Lindstrom and Ghrex will provide cover for us."

  Pulling his phaser from his waist, Scott held the weapon up to inspect its setting and power level. "We have to get these into position and be ready to detonate on schedule. I dinna think we'll get another chance at this, so whatever happens, even if one of us gets hit or captured, the group keeps moving. Understood?"

  The stark order had the effect of turning the expressions on the faces of al-Khaled and Lindstrom to those of grim determination. Seeing the reaction his words had on his two companions, Scott felt the sudden need to reassure them.

  "Not to worry, we'll get through this," he offered with only slightly more confidence than he himself was feeling. With a mischievous grin he added, "After all, ye already did the hard part."

  Al-Khaled made a show of rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. "Oh, sure. Now he gives the proper credit where it was so sorely overdue. Better late than never, I suppose."

  As they emerged from the command center into an alley, their presence was almost immediately noticed.

  Scott had to duck to avoid the brick that nearly took his head off, which smashed into the wall behind him and splintered into several pieces. Stone shrapnel peppered the team. Nearly losing his grip on the handle of the anti-gravity unit and its cargo of torpedoes, he instinctively dropped into a defensive crouch and turned to see where the brick had come from.

  "Look out!" al-Khaled shouted, his own phaser already aiming at their attacker. It was a man, dressed in a smoke gray suit with a long black overcoat and top hat to complete the ensemble. The man's elegant manner of dress clashed with the expression of manic rage on his face. Dashing into the alley from the street, the assailant's eyes were wide and his mouth twisted into a sinister sneer as he wielded what looked to be a steel bar. The bar was held high, ready to strike at the first thing, or person, that presented a target.

  Almost with a will of its own, Scott's weapon arm came up, aiming his phaser at the onrushing man as his finger pressed the firing stud. The phaser's cold blue-white energy beam washed over the man, halting his advance. As the glow of the beam faded, the attacker wobbled for a moment before crumpling to the ground, unconscious.

  "Nice shooting," al-Khaled said as he adjusted his own grip on the anti-grav, taking a moment to ensure that the trio of torpedoes was still stable.

  Scott nodded, exhaling audibly as he rose from his crouch after confirming that the man had been acting alone. "How much time do we have left?"

  Lindstrom consulted his tricorder, which he was also using to guide them to where they would plant the torpedoes. "About thirty minutes. We need to get moving."

  "Let's do that, then." With Lindstrom leading the way, phaser in one hand and tricorder in the other, the Starfleet officers began moving in the direction of the street. Scott and al-Khaled maintained their positions in the middle of the group, with Ghrex bringing up the rear.

  If Scott thought the greeting they had received in the alley was gruff, it was nothing compared to what was waiting for them as they emerged from the shadows of the buildings onto the sidewalk lining the street before them.

  "Good lord," he whispered as they stopped just at the edge of the alley. Debris of all types--glass, wood, metal--littered the streets. People ran in all directions, some dashing frantically up and down the street while others attempted to force open doors leading into the various buildings. Still other citizens were fighting each other, as those who still retained their own self-control struggled to fend off those who had already succumbed once more to Landru's influence. The skirmishes in some cases were savage, with people using any and all means to overpower their opponents. Scott nearly recoiled in horror as one man slammed his assailant in the side of the head with a brick.

  As his opponent fell to the ground, the man looked up and his eyes locked with Scott's. The engineer saw the look of abject terror on the face of someone fighting for his freedom if not his very life.

  "Landru is coming for us all!" the man shouted. "He will find us and destroy us!" Then he pointed directly at Scott. "You are to blame for this! Landru is punishing us for your interference here!" Dropping the brick and allowing it to clatter to the street, the man abruptly turned and ran away, leaving Scott and his companions to stare after him in shock.

  "Scotty, are you okay?" al-Khaled asked. Scott jerked his head in the direction of the voice and saw his friend's expression of concern. Swallowing hard, he nodded.

  "Aye. He may be right, you know. If we can't stop that blasted contraption for good this time, there's no telling what fresh hell it's liable to unleash on these people." Pausing to take a deep breath in order to refocus himself, he added, "Let's get this done."

  Once more they began to move, emerging from the tenuous protection of the alley. Lindstrom, one eye on his tricorder as he tried to watch all around him for other approaching threats, guided them up the street. Rather than risk getting caught out on the open street, the sociologist instead stayed close to the buildings, hugging the walls as he led them toward their target.

  Phaser fire from behind him made Scott turn to see Ghrex taking aim at another attacker, a woman this time, running at them while brandishing a club. The phaser beam cut her down, dropping her into an unconscious heap on the street. Almost immediately he heard al-Khaled's phaser whine as the engineer fired at another citizen. All around them people were beginning to take notice of the Starfleet officers.

  "They are not of the Body!"

  "Traitors! Kill them!"

  "It is the will of Landru!"

  Dropping his hold on the anti-gravity unit, Scott used his free hand to adjust the setting on his phaser. "Wide-field stun!" he called out. "It's the only way we'll be able to handle them all."

  His companions reacted to the order, adjusting the power level on their own weapons as the first hail of stones, bricks, and whatever else the rapidly growing throng of attackers could find rained down on them. His free arm held protectively over his head, Scott had to dodge to his left to avoid an oil lamp hurled at him. The lamp's glass bulb exploded against the wall behind him as he danced away from the attack, his phaser already coming up to aim in on the man who had thrown it.

  "Fire!" he yelled above the growing cacophony of yelled threats and cries of seething anger now being directed at them. The engineers each fired their own weapons, and the effect was that of a wall of blue energy erupting from the phasers. It expanded and enveloped the oncoming mob in an instant, rendering all of their attackers unconscious even before they collapsed to the ground.

  The abrupt absence of near pandemonium surprised Scott for a moment. While he could still hear sounds of chaos from elsewhere, the area right in front of them was almost serene now that nearly everyone in sight had been neutralized. Taking a second to ensure that none of the group was injured, Scott saw al-Khaled holding a free hand to the side of his head as he leaned against the wall of the nearby building. Blood flowed freely between the man's fingers and his face was screwed up in pain.

  "Are ye all right, lad?"

  Al-Khaled nodded. "I think I'll be all right. I zigged when I should have zagged."

  Scott pulled his friend's hand back to inspect the wound. "Looks like ye got hit by a rock," he said. "We'll get ye fixed up."

  "No time for that now, Scotty," al-Khaled said. "We have to get the torpedoes into position."

  Knowing his friend was right, Scott turned and reached out for the anti-gravity unit. "Aye, and that's just what we're going to do. Mr. Lindstrom? How much time?"

  "Less than fifteen minutes," Lindstrom reported. No further words were necessary as the engineers set out once again. Scott noted that al-Khaled had opted to retain his grip on his phaser while he carried his end of the anti-grav, leaving his head wound to bleed unabated. It was a nasty gash, and Scott suspected that it was all that his friend could do to simply remain con
scious.

  Moving quickly, they encountered no further resistance. Scott tried not to count off the seconds in his head as they jogged down the street, trying to stay close to the relative safety offered by the buildings. His eyes darted about, scanning each doorway, window, and gap between buildings for new threats, but no one appeared to challenge them.

  "Over there," Lindstrom called out, pointing to the open area that Scott recognized as the Town Square. The vast courtyard, surrounded on all sides by buildings and dominated by the huge clock at the square's far end, was the first thing he had seen upon beaming down from the Enterprise.

  The tension was palpable as they entered the square. Everyone in the group stepped up their level of alertness as they moved farther out into the open. Their vulnerability to attack was growing with every step, and as they hurried across the courtyard Scott's mind taunted him with visions of walking into a monstrous arena in order to do battle for the amusement of a crazed audience. However, what few people Scott did see on the street did not appear to be the least bit interested in the Starfleet officers.

  "Let's get these beasties into position and find cover," Scott called out as they followed Lindstrom across the square. Finally the sociologist stopped and indicated a point on the ground with his tricorder.

  "That's the spot."

  With al-Khaled matching him step for step, Scott rushed across the last few meters and lowered his end of their precious package to the ground. Deactivating the unit's gravity-nullifying field, he disengaged it, leaving the torpedoes to settle under their own weight to the street.

  "That's got it," he said. "They're not going anywhere now. Let's get the hell out of here."

  "Scotty," al-Khaled said, his voice nearly a whisper.

  When nothing else came, Scott looked up and saw that his friend was staring at something over his shoulder. He started to turn when movement several dozen meters away attracted his attention. It was a figure, standing at the end of the street.