Chapter 7 – Turn Of The Screw

Mei-Wan sat in her apartment, waiting for the announcement broadcast on her comm display.

She'd considered not watching, but she had to put out some sort of statement as soon as it was over. Otherwise, other people would fill in the blanks for her, and she couldn't trust that process to bring out the truth.

The rest of her team from the Institute had wanted to watch it with her, but Mei-Wan needed to hear her own voice, not a chorus.

The screen came to life. Frexdon stood at a lectern surrounded by a crowd of reporters. His blue Bolian face as unreadable as ever.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I come here today not with any satisfaction or sense of victory. True, I have never been someone who has accepted the conclusion that the Ancient Progenitors were genocidal maniacs prowling the Galaxy some five billion years ago. I have often argued the opposing side of that argument.” He paused a moment. “Today I stand before you, saddened that I must correct one of my fellow archaeologists, someone who has risen, we thought, to be a shining star of our profession. If I were not here today, I would betray the truth which every scientist seeks.”

Mei-Wan frowned and sank deeper into her couch. “Give me a break,” she murmured.

Frexdon continued, “Mei-Wan Lau brought before this galaxy a datacore which contained volumes of information reporting the genocidal acts and plans of a species long since gone, but one which means so much to all of us, for we spring from them. Doctor Lau reported her findings as the final case against the Ancient Progenitors. But her findings are a fraud.”

The crowd of reporters around him began to talk among themselves until he cut in again.

“The datacore shows absolute evidence of recent tampering, the details of which will be presented in a paper I will publish soon.”

He let that hang in the air.

“I am left with only one conclusion. Mei-Wan Lau, or someone working with her, deliberately forged the information concerning genocide for their own self-interests, or perhaps for some political interest we have yet to uncover.”

Mei-Wan threw a pillow at the display. “You bastard!!!”

“I hope someone can show me I'm wrong. I would like nothing more than to find myself apologizing to Doctor Lau.” He paused, his face hardening. “But I am afraid my evidence will show she is the one who should apologize to the entire galaxy, and most especially to the children of the Ancient Progenitors.”

The reporters exploded with questions, but instead of feeding his ego by answering them as Mei-Wan had expected, Frexdon left the room.

Mei-Wan grabbed a PADD and quickly brought up the document he had given to the Archaeological Council. “I bet I'll find the flaw in his methodology in two seconds.”

But the two seconds stretched into ten, then a minute, then ten minutes.

Mei-Wan couldn't find a thing wrong. If she hadn't known that datacore was pure as honey in the comb, she would have believed what he wrote.

“Damn it.”

***

Mei-Wan fell into the chair at her desk the next morning, staring at the opposite wall, her mind a pile of mush driven to incoherence from lack of sleep the night before. No one had come in to talk to her yet. She suspected they were all trying to decide how to approach her.

Finally, Nick walked into her office.

“Hi,” he said.

She only nodded.

“Your people need to hear from you.”

“What would you have me say?” she asked.

“For starters how you plan to attack that load of bullshit he was shoveling.”

“Did you read what he told the Council?” she asked, not turning to look at him.

“Yeah. It's a load of shit.”

“But his methodology is sound, damn sound.”

“The hell with his methodology! This team you've built is the best in the galaxy. Put us to work on this and we'll have the guy coming here by the end of the week to offer that apology he talked about!”

Mei-Wan smiled and looked up at him. “You're right. I thought I needed to face this by myself. But it’s too big, and I don't have all the expertise I'd need to refute his claims.”

Nick leaned forward, resting his hands on her desk. “Everyone here is ready to attack this thing.”

Mei-Wan stood and walked up to Nick. “Then attack it we will.”

She marched out into the outer office where everyone else's desks were.

They all met her with smiles.

This wasn't a group of people depressed at what they'd heard. They were scientists ready to argue their position with all the passion they could muster.

“I assume you've all read through Frexdon's presentation,” she said as they assembled around her.

Nods from everyone.

“It seems to me we have to start with his assumptions about the datacore itself.”

Neelan jumped in. “While his analysis might be correct for a piece of equipment some five to ten thousand years old, suffering normal decay, we all examined the device and learned over the course of the last five billion years it had a complex means of self-repair. That alone would make irrelevant any attempt by Doctor Frexdon to date the alleged tampering, and might well be what he is calling tampering.”

Mei-Wan nodded. “That's a good place to start.”

“Also,” Harold broke in. “He makes some assumptions about gamma ray exposure which are pure crap. We can knock those out easily.”

“Great!” Mei-Wan said. She was actually starting to believe they might beat this thing. “We need to get down to the physics lab so we can run tests on the other items we have from the site. We can use that as a baseline to see if Frexdon has calibrated his tests properly.”

“None of the labs in this building will be used for any such thing,” came a voice from behind them.

All of them turned toward the main doors to see several men and women being led by a stern-faced man in his sixties with white hair.

“Who the hell are you?” Mei-Wan demanded, holding up her hand as if to block the man and his people from going any farther.

“Tobias Milbraith, and by order of the Federation Archaeological Council, I am now in charge of this Institute.”

“Like hell you are,” Harold spat.

“And you can leave the premises now.” Milbraith pointed toward the door.

Harold laughed.

But Milbraith stared him down, his arm still pointing to the door.

Harold's laughter faded.

Milbraith then handed Mei-Wan a PADD. “You, Doctor Lau will clear out your office, correction, my office, and be escorted from the premises. Any of the rest of you who wish to leave may consider your employment here terminated.” He let that hang a moment. “Anyone left after that will be interviewed to determine your part in the fraud perpetrated by this Institute.”

“Now just a damn minute,” Nick began.

Milbriath turned to him. “Consider yourself terminated.”

“Stick it up your ass,” Nick replied with a grin.

“I'll bet you were in on this from the start,” Milbraith said. “I have a report which suggests you and Lau were screwing at every opportunity.”

“Say that again, and see what happens to your jaw,” Nick said, his eyes narrowing.

Milbraith turned from him.

Nick was about to pursue the man, but Mei-Wan took hold of his arm.

“Nick, no,” she said.

“This jerk is going to get a fist in the face for that crack.”

“It won't do any good,” she said. She held up the PADD. “This transfer of authority is valid. I've been removed.”

The others began to clamor about her.

“Seeing as how none of you want to work here any longer, please take this discussion out of the building,” Milbraith said. “I have to begin repairing the reputation of this Institute.”

But Nick was determined to make good on his threat. “I'll make sure the first thing you have to repair is a busted jaw.”

“Please Nick!” Mei-Wan yelled.

Everyone stopped. The room was silent.

Mei-Wan headed toward what used to be her office. “Just let me get my things so we can get out of here.”

***

Thirty minutes later, the members of Mei-Wan’s team stood on a paved walk down a block from the Institute.

“It was my understanding the Kel-j'na had a say in any changes to the leadership of the Institute,” Emily Talaan said. “This appears to bypass them completely.”

“I say we go back up there, and shove that prick through the nearest window,” Nick said, still fuming.

“And that will accomplish what?” Mei-Wan asked.

“One less asshole in the universe.”

“I'd go along with that,” Harold said, smiling at Nick.

Nick nodded. “Let's pick up a baseball bat first.”

“Yes, violence will certainly prove our argument was the correct one,” Neelan said.

“Tossing us out like that was violence,” Harold said. “And it was bullshit.”

“We need another lab,” Mei-Wan said, trying to bring them back to the goal at hand. “We need to find a facility where we can run some tests.”

All of them perked up at that.

“Okay,” Nick said. “I've got some friends in Starfleet Medical, maybe they can find us some lab space.”

“And I have contacts on several research vessels,” Neelan added. “They can likely get us the equipment we need.”

“Okay,” Mei-Wan said, doing her best not to get overly hopeful just yet. “Let's meet tomorrow morning. I'll see if I can get the couple of people I'm still on good terms with at the Council to see if we can get even a temporary reprieve.”

***

Jack pulled at the section of fence, but it wouldn’t budge. He stood up, pushed his hat back and took a long breath.

“I’m going to need some equipment to pull this section out,” he murmured to himself. He stared up and down the fence line. The curve was getting worse. He’d have to repair this entire section.

Jack heard someone walk up behind him.

“Hello, Cowboy.”

Jack turned to find Zaylie Burton, wearing civilian clothing standing with a smile.

“What are you doing out here?” Jack asked.

Zaylie frowned. “Well hello to you too.”

Jack let out a laugh. He gave Zaylie a warm hug. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, sir,” Zaylie replied as she returned the hug.

“I’m not your CO any longer,” Jack said. “You don’t have to call me sir.”

“Old habit,” she said with a grin. She studied him a moment. “The hat and beard work for you.”

“Really?”

Zaylie nodded. “It gives you a rugged outdoorsman kind of look.”

“The hat and clothing aren’t authentic, but they were the best I could do on short notice,” he replied. “I thought they would fit with the feel the Pierce Valley Historical Society wanted retained for the ranch.”

“At least you’re keeping busy,” she said.

“Mind if I ask you something?”

“Sure,” she said.

“Is Melissa doing okay?” he asked.

“Commander Vargas?” she asked, seemingly caught off guard. “Sure. She’s busy a lot, but as far as I can tell, she’s doing okay.”

Jack nodded. “Is she… has she…”

“Has she what?” Zaylie asked.

Jack finally turned to her. “Has she been involved with…”

“No,” Zaylie interrupted. “I don’t know what’s going on between the two of you. Your marriage is your concern. I am not going to be pulled into the middle of this.”

Jack let out a long breath. “I think you answered my question anyway.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“If she hadn’t been involved with anyone else over the last several months, you’d have said that,” Jack replied.

“Why are you doing this?” she demanded. “Talk to her.”

“What would be the point?”

"I can't believe it," Zaylie said. "Are you... you... feeling sorry for yourself?"

Jack leaned against the fence. "No. I’m finally accepting reality for what it is."

“This isn’t like you,” Zaylie said. “The man I know would kick reality in the ass.”

“Maybe he’s not here any longer. Maybe that’s a good thing,” Jack replied. “Or maybe you’ve been mistaken about him all along.”

Zaylie grinned. “I don’t think I was wrong about you, and I think you’re still the same man.”

Jack looked at her and saw it again. "That admiration in a young officer's eyes has always been unnerving for me," he said, turning away. "Seeing it in your eyes is absolutely terrifying."

Zaylie took his chin in her hand, turning his gaze back to her. "It isn't admiration for my commanding officer. It's admiration for the man." Zaylie looked into his eyes. “You can’t sit in that house, brooding about how life is passing you by and how your best days are behind you.”

“Aren’t they?” he asked. “Life changes, and you adapt to the new reality.”

“Your life can be whatever you want to make of it,” she said.

He looked down. He knew she’d think he was brooding.

Zaylie took his hand. “I think Jack McCall is the kind of man who doesn’t let life pass him by.”

“I’m just riding it out to the end,” he said, turning to look at her. All he could see in her eyes was an admiration he didn’t deserve.

“Then enjoy whatever it has become,” she said, smiling. “Let the real you out again.”

***

Later that afternoon, after Zaylie had left to go back to her parents’ place in Iowa, Jack and Felicia took a walk on the ranch property so he could point out the fence that needed repairing, and a couple of other maintenance issues. After that, they followed the trail back to the house and talked.

“You busy this evening?” he asked Felicia.

She smiled a moment. “No.”

“You want to come up to the house and have dinner?”

“You’re cooking?” she asked.

Jack stopped and turned to her. “If that’s okay.”

Felicia stopped and turned to Jack. “I’d like that,” she said.

Another thought entered Jack’s mind. Why not? he asked himself. Melissa has moved on. Why shouldn’t I?

Jack took a long breath. “And maybe spend the evening with me?”

Her eyes went wide a moment. “Are you sure about this?”

“Yes.”

Felicia slid her arm into his, walking together with him. “I’d love to spend the evening with you.”

-GO TO CHAPTER 8-