weigh in on.
So instead he said nothing. He just kept walking, resigned to the idea that the D’myurj was going to keep after him, yammering away about concepts that he didn’t want to dwell upon.
The Visionary had been speaking with increasing intensity, but now his tone calmed and he said with what sounded like quiet reverence, as if he were speaking of a holy object: “The others of my kind believe in the future of life. They believe in working behind the scenes, helping various races reach the pinnacle of their genetic development and eventually become beings of pure thought, such as the Organians. Such beings do not pose any threat to the universe because they are so much a part of it. The poor fools believe that it is the destiny of all races to reach that level of advancement, sooner or later, and they are content believing time to be on their side. I, on the other hand, know that the goal is unattainable and time is not on our side.”
“So you intend to destroy all life. What of the Brethren? Would you see them disposed of as well?”
The Visionary appeared to shrug, which was a strangely human gesture for him to make. “I never said all races would be obliterated. Only those presenting a threat. The rest will survive in order to provide the Brethren… how best to put it?” Then the Visionary seemed to smile. “Sport, I suppose. And the Brethren are satisfied with that. They ask so little of life, it’s almost sweet.”
“Well, they’re going to have to look elsewhere,” said Calhoun, “because if you think that I’m going to lead them to—”
That was when Calhoun heard the name “M’k’n’zy!” being shouted in jubilation.
Calhoun knew for a fact that there were no Xenexian camps set up in the area. He was carrying in his head all the locations, both likely and unlikely, that his people would be hiding, and was certain that he was nowhere near any of them.
But coming toward him was a scouting party of about thirty or so Xenexians, making their joy at finding him known in jubilant chants that easily carried quite a distance.
He couldn’t blame them for their enthusiasm. Plus the fact that they were showing themselves indicated to him that they had not discerned any Brethren within the area.
His head whipped around and he saw the pleased expression on what there was of the glowing face on the Visionary, and he knew that even as the Visionary hovered there, the bastard was busy sending coordinates—of not only Calhoun’s location, but a squadron of enemy Xenexian warriors—directly to the Brethren. In finding Calhoun, they had effectively brought destruction down upon themselves.
“Enjoy the battle,” said the D’myurj, “and while you’re dwelling upon everything I’ve said, you may want to give some consideration to the possibility that maybe—just maybe—you’re on the wrong side.”
That was the last thing the D’myurj said before he vanished.
U.S.S. Excalibur
Also Now
The Excalibur was still not moving as quickly as Burgoyne would have liked. It seemed to hir at this point that Morgan was toying with them. She could have allowed them to go to full warp, but instead she was controlling the systems to such a degree that the ship could go no faster.
“We need to get the hell out of Thallonian space,” Burgoyne said heatedly to Chief Engineer Mitchell. S/he strode through engineering, looking in frustration at the powerful warp engines that—with even minimal thrust—would get them clear of dangerous enemy territory. “I appreciate that we’re going as fast as impulse power will allow us, but that’s not enough.”
“You think I’m unaware of that, Burgy?” said Mitchell in frustration, his bearded face glistening with sweat. “I’ve run every counterprogram I can think of, and I can’t get the warp engines to fire up. What do you expect me to do? Climb in there and hit them with a spanner until they come to life?”
“I don’t need sarcasm, Craig. I need answers.”
“Well, unfortunately, I don’t have any answers handy, so sarcasm is pretty much the only tool I have left in my box.”
“Look, Craig—”
“No, you look, Burgy. We both know this used to be your territory, and the fact is that you’ve probably forgotten more about engineering than I’ll ever know. So give me a hint. Point me in the right direction. I’ve gone over with you everything I’m trying to do, none of which is getting us anywhere. Tell me what I’m missing.”
Burgoyne growled low in hir