Chapter 3 – The Horror Of That Moment
Jack walked across the immaculately
cultivated lawn, a strong breeze off San Francisco Bay tossing about a stray leaf
here and there. He stopped when he got to the front doors of Starfleet Academy.
A friend of his father, Captain Martin Feld had heard about what had happened
to Jack and suggested he see about teaching at the Academy. Feld had insisted
he'd talk to some people there, and put in a good word for Jack. If this worked
out, he’d be a part of helping the next generation of Starfleet officers. That
would suit him just fine. It would allow him to still make an impact on
Starfleet without the burden of life and death decisions.
He went through the door and went up to
the counter.
A bright-eyed lieutenant greeted him.
“How may I help you, sir?”
“I have an appointment with Admiral Nehilon.”
The female lieutenant scanned a display.
Her smile faded. “Captain Jack McCall?”
He nodded.
She handed him a pass. “Please wear that
at all times in the building.”
He put it on his jacket.
“Admiral Nehilon's
office is on the third floor, room three zero one.” Her lack of a smile now
turned into a frown. “If you have any trouble finding it, touch one of the
panels every ten feet down any corridor and it will direct you to the right
place.”
Jack looked at her. “Thank you.”
He made his way to the elevator, entered
and touched the control for the third floor.
Jack hoped this worked. He needed
something to provide him the resource credits to be able to keep the ranch
operating, and maintain it per the Historical Council's requirements.
Otherwise, he'd have to turn it back over to them, and find an apartment
elsewhere on Earth. His basic resource allotment and the allotment he had built
up with Starfleet would allow him to get a nice place.
But he wanted the ranch.
“Damn it, I built that place,” he
murmured as the elevator came to a stop. Jack made his way to room three zero
one.
Admiral Nehilon, an
Alpha Centaurian man about ten years younger than
Jack, frowned.
“Are you out of your mind?” he asked.
Coming here had been a mistake. Jack was
certain of that now.
“I had been informed...”
“Marty Feld is certainly out of his
mind,” Nehilon said. “There is no damn way we would
ever allow a disgraced officer like you...”
“I resigned,” Jack stated.
Nehilon leaned
forward on his desk. “I've read the report on you, McCall. You disobeyed a
direct order regarding the Omega Directive.”
“I was ordered to annihilate an entire
civilization which wasn't bothering anyone.”
Nehilon shook his
head. “You keep telling yourself that. But understand this, as long as I'm
here, you will never teach at the Academy... ever.”
Jack stood. “Thank you for your time.”
“Feld is going to get a chewing out over
this. He should know better.”
“He's a decorated officer,” Jack said.
“A man of conviction.”
Nehilon
laughed. “You have ten minutes to get off this campus. After that, I'll have
you arrested.”
As Jack walked back across the lawn of
Starfleet Academy, but in the opposite direction this time, he looked up at the
sky.
“This was a mistake,” he murmured to
himself. “Being stuck in a classroom is the last place I belong.”
He stopped walking, his eyes peering
beyond the clouds above him. “That’s where I belong. I have to get back up
there again.”
***
The next day, Jack stood in a crowded,
smoke-filled hanger filled with small shuttles in various stages of disrepair,
the man standing five feet away, eyed him suspiciously.
“You should be able to get a far better
job than this,” Carl Strickland said. “You were a starship captain for shit's
sake.”
“Let's just say Starfleet and I had a
falling out.”
Carl grinned. “They boot you out?”
“Officially, I resigned.”
Carl's grin blossomed into a smile. “You
don't play well with others?”
“Something like that.”
“I like you, McCall,” Carl laughed.
“Sure, you can drive an airbus for me. How's the Chicago to San Francisco run
grab you?”
That wasn’t what Jack was hoping for at
all. “Can I get a Mars run, or perhaps the Earth-Moon route? You’ve got to have
a dozen or so of those going a day, right?”
Carl stared at Jack a moment. “Those
routes go only to guys with seniority. Keep your nose clean, don’t upset your
passengers, and if your Starfleet background is good, you should have a chance
at an Earth-Moon flight within six to ten months.”
It would have to do. “Okay. I’ll take
the Chicago to San Francisco run,” Jack said.
“Great,” Carl said with a smile. “Come
with me, and I'll show you your ship.”
***
John Thomas Belvedere strolled through
the halls of Cyrus Wakernaggle’s San Francisco home.
It wasn’t as large as the ambassador’s home in Maine, but it was just as
ornate. It also gave off the same feeling of being a mausoleum.
He stopped in front of a wide staircase
which split into two, one going to the right the other to the left. Wakernaggle stood in front of the stairs wearing a robe
which was closed only at the top. It spread out revealing Wakernaggle
wore nothing but a pair of briefs under the robe.
Belvedere wondered if this was for his
benefit or if Wakernaggle simply didn’t care about
his appearance.
Wakernaggle
smiled. “I assume you’re not here to assassinate me.”
“If that were the case I wouldn’t have
walked through the front door,” Belvedere said. “You’d have been dead by less
conventional means.”
Wakernaggle
chuckled. “Then out with it. I have some… guests coming by soon.”
“Not to worry,” Belvedere said. “I’ll
not be but a few minutes.”
Wakernaggle
stared at him a moment. “Against my better judgment, I’ve always liked you.”
“The feeling is mutual,” Belvedere said.
“And I’m sure our admiration of one another is for the same reason.”
Wakernaggle
nodded. “We both realize when someone is useful. And we both realize what we do
is for the greater good of the people of the Federation. Our sins will make
this galaxy a paradise.”
“Speaking of someone useful,” Belvedere
began. “Jack McCall is on Earth.”
“I know.”
“He was rebuffed at Starfleet Academy,”
Belvedere said. “I had asked that he be allowed to…”
“That wasn’t my doing,” Wakernaggle interrupted. “Dameron’s
people are out for revenge, and are seemingly going to get it in whatever way
they can even if it means petty things like denying him a teaching position at
the Academy.”
“Then bring him and his people to heel.”
“Easier said than done. His are not the
kind of friends one angers.” Wakernaggle’s eyes
narrowed. “Why does Temporal Investigations care about Jack McCall?”
“He has an important role to play in
events yet to unfold.” Belvedere took a breath. “For one, he has a future
encounter with the Zeparans as captain of the Chamberlain.”
“Interesting,” Wakernaggle
said with no emotion. “Perhaps if you’d joined me in applying pressure on
McCall, he wouldn’t be left to beg for work shuttling people from Chicago to
San Francisco.”
“And perhaps if you and Secretary James
had prevented his mission to the Geryon system, we wouldn’t be having this
conversation.”
“Again, Dameron.”
“Perhaps I should see to it the
Commodore no longer gets in the way.”
Wakernaggle
smiled. “Please do. But I hope you have the brains to bring his demise about in
a way which doesn’t blow back onto Temporal Investigations. As I may have
mentioned, his friends enjoy revenge.”
“I think it is time…”
A loud knock on the front door
interrupted Belvedere’s next sentence.
“Don’t worry about that,” Wakernaggle said. “My servant will get it.”
“Servants in the twenty-fourth century?”
Belvedere asked with a grin.
Wakernaggle
frowned. “He is paid quite well.”
Belvedere turned as four beautiful women
in a variety of strange clothing walked by, smiling. Two of the women appeared
human, one was an Andorian, and the last was a tall
woman with purple skin. He thought she might be one of the various Rigellian
species. Given they were obviously prostitutes, Belvedere saw no reason to stay
longer.
“Since your… friends have arrived,”
Belvedere said with a frown. “We shall continue this another time.”
The women walked past Belvedere and
surrounded Wakernaggle.
Just as Belvedere was about to leave, Wakernaggle turned his attention from the women back to his
visitor.
“Not to worry,” Wakernaggle
said. “Jack McCall will be brought back into the Starfleet fold soon enough.”
“How so?”
Wakernaggle
glanced at the women a moment, then returned his gaze to Belvedere.
“An incident will occur which young Jack
will find irresistible, bringing him to my doorstep once again because he will
have nowhere else to turn,” Wakernaggle said with a
touch of glee. “The Federation President has already signed off on a request by
Forcas to give him something he wants. That will in turn force Jack’s hand.” Wakernaggle smiled. “Trust me. Jack will be back exactly
where we need him.”
“How soon?” Belvedere asked.
“Six to eight months. Just long enough
for him to become frustrated with life here on Earth.”
Belvedere turned to go.
“Jack McCall belongs to us,” Wakernaggle said. “He always has.”
Belvedere nodded and walked out the
door. As he made his way across the brick driveway of Wakernaggle’s
mansion, he began to devise ways to discover what the ambassador had planned.
