I slept for six hours, and could have slept six more. When I emerged from my quarters, I could feel the change---a stifling, acrid and electric bite to the air. Fear.
In the corridor not more than fifty meters from my quarters, an old woman lay facedown against the wall, arms cradling her head. I shuddered, fearing for a moment that the old woman from the alien ship had returned, teleporting herself from her coffin back into the Enterprise. But the hair color was wrong, the clothes were different, and she was shorter than the alien had been.
The woman was murmuring to herself, punctuating indistinct words with tiny, quiet barking sounds. As I passed her, she turned her head, exposing her face and staring at me. She looked familiar, but I couldn't place her.
"Cantus astronomicus, domine astronomy..."
She was chanting what seemed to be a mix of ersatz Latin and Standard. I knelt beside her.
"Can I help you?"
She stopped her chanting and closed her eyes. "Nobody can help me," she said quite distinctly. "Nobody can help any of us. We're drowning in the whirlpool of the universe." She turned her face back to the wall and resumed her murmured chant.578Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvjYAoh0VP9
I tried to check in with Jean-Luc, but he was unavailable. There was no emergency, or at least no new one, so I didn't pursue it. Hernandez was also unreachable. When I tried to contact Sulu, his com system answered, but there was no video.
"Sulu, are you there? You all right?"
No answer. I broke the connection and headed for his rooms. On my way to the lower levels I passed through corridors so empty and quiet it seemed the Enterprise was deserted, and others so crowded and noisy and panicky, I was afraid a riot was about to break out. Nothing was normal.
I found Sulu reeling drunk, clutching a whiskey bottle. He could hardly keep his eyes open, and couldn't walk. He half rolled, half crawled across the floor after he let me in, then pulled himself up onto a chair.
"Tried calling you," he said. Surprisingly there was no slur to his words, but his voice was faint and hoarse. "No response. Calls denied. Couldn't remember override."578Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡR3fdoyfsnm
"Well, I was sleeping."
He looked at me with one half-open eye. "How can you sleep at a time like this?"
"Exhaustion. And timed sleep tabs."
"Drank too much," he muttered, the eye closing. His head rolled back so that he would have been staring at the ceiling if his eyes had been open. "Hate being this drunk."
I went into the bedroom and at the meds console punched up a mega-vites patch and a three-hour sleep patch.
"Your turn to sleep now," I told him when I came back.
I took the bottle out of his hand (it was empty, anyway), pressed the patches to his neck, and helped him to the bed. He didn't fight me. Eyes still closed, he waved a hand at me, but said nothing.
"I'll be back later, Sulu." I turned down the lights and left.
The cathedral was nearly full; a sense of fear and despair permeated the atmosphere. The bishop was speaking, but I didn't pay much attention----something about the arbitrary nature of God's mercy and the wages of sin. If anything, he was making those in the cathedral even more frightened.578Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbqstSXPYJ6
I sat in the last pew in one of the side sections. There was a crackle in the nearest speaker so that the bishop seemed to spit and sputter as he spoke; then it cleared up, and his voice came through loud and clear.
Nearly all the people around me appeared to be downsiders. Entire families huddled together. Younger children squirmed in their seats, and infants slept or fussed in their parents' arms. A few of the older children listened intently, their faces marked with confusion and concern, trying to understand what was happening to them. Most of the adults, however, seemed resigned. How many here were nonbelievers searching desperately for a new faith? How many were believers praying for a miracle? How many had simply given up all hope?
The bishop finished his speech or sermon or rant or whatever it was, and turned the pulpit over to Father O'Heron. She stood for a minute or two in silence, looking out over the congregation. When she started to speak, her voice was steady and calm.
"We're all frightened," she began, "afraid of what may happen to us. It's nothing to be ashamed of. It's normal. It's human!
"There is a strange and mysterious ship out there, manned by strange and mysterious beings we have never seen. We're trying to escape from them, and it's likely they mean us harm. As much as anything else, though, our fear comes from uncertainty: we do not know what will happen to us, or when. We do not know if we'll be able to defend ourselves. We don't know."
She paused, her gaze again sweeping across everyone to the cathedral.
"I won't tell you not to be afraid," she resumed. "But I want to remind you of what we do know. Of what we know about ourselves, and what we know about what'll happen to us.
"We're the children of God! It's very possible that those alien beings are also children of God. Perhaps they have lost their way. Maybe they don't understand us, perhaps there's something critical they do not understand about themselves. Maybe they don't understand what God wants from them. After all, sometimes we don't understand. Sometimes we lose our way.
"The most important thing to remember now is that no matter what happens to us, or when, in the end, we'll be with Him. Our souls will go on, in life eternal. Our suffering will end, our pain will end, and we'll dwell forever with peace and joy and love in His Kingdom."
I sensed a change gradually manifesting itself in the people around me as she spoke. The fear eased---not completely, but perceptibly, little by little as a sense of peace gradually suffused the cathedral
Father O'Heron continued to speak. I don't remember much of what she said after that, but I'll never forget the effect she had on those in the cathedral. She accomplished what the bishop had utterly failed at---she eased their fears, she calmed and comforted them, and she renewed their faith, both in God and in themselves.
I felt proud for her, and admired her more than ever. But I also felt increasingly uncomfortable and guilty. I still did not believe, although at that moment I wished I could, and I felt I did not belong in that place of worship with everyone else.
I rose to my feet and walked out of the cathedral.
Several hours later I returned to Sulu's quarters. He was sober and freshly showered, his hair still damp, and he was drinking coffee.578Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKiAckIJGwT
"I'm ashamed," he said.
"There's nothing to be ashamed of," I told him.
He snorted. "When I heard, I thought to myself, 'What's the point of being sober? So I began drinking, and couldn't stop." He poured me a cup of coffee, refilled his own. "I..." He sighed and gave me something like a smile. "I thought I was better than that."
"You're as good as any of us, Sulu. And better than most. I slept, you drank, and hundreds of people have gone to the cathedral to find comfort in God."
"You've been there?"
"Just now. The bishop was useless, making people even more terrified. But Father O'Heron managed to give them what they needed---comfort. Eased their fears. Gave them some peace."
Sulu nodded thoughtfully. "I wish I could find comfort in faith," he said. "I used to think that religion was for the ignorant, but I've seen some intelligent people who have a sincere belief in God. Father O'Heron's at the top of that list."
"So why is it she can't convince either one of us?" I asked.
He shook his head. "You and I will never believe, Pavel."
"No," I agreed. "We won't."
I checked the wall clock. "Sorry, Sulu, but I have to go. Jean-Luc has called for a council session."
"Ah," he said. "Brilliant minds working together to solve all problems. I'm sure you'll figure out something to save our asses."
"Yeah, I'm sure we will."
Sulu just shook his head again, and I left.
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Everyone was there, and everyone was exhausted. Most also appeared to have already given up. Bishop Worf stared at me with a barely controlled malic that made me distinctly uncomfortable.
"Everyone rested?" Jean-Luc asked. "Good," he said without waiting for answers. "I'm open to ideas."
Nobody knew how to respond. Jean-Luc had been so abrupt, and at the same time almost nonchalant.
"There's only one thing left to do," Cole Racine said, his voice rising. "What I tried to suggest before. We attack them. Now. We have plenty of weapons, we're not defenseless. We have the Althoff Field to protect us. It's so damned obvious, and I don't understand what we're waiting for."
"It's not damned obvious,' Pike said. 'You really think an attack on their ship has any chance of success? After what happened with the remotes and the missiles?"
"We must try!" Racine insisted. "What else can we do? Just wait for them to come and slaughter us?"
"No, we mustn't try!" Pike said. "We haven't made any direct attack on them, and that may be the main reason they have not attacked us. We don't have any idea what they're thinking, or how they think. Attacking them may provoke just the kind of response you're most afraid of."
"I'm willing to take that chance, and I would wager that most of the council..."
"It doesn't matter," Jean-Luc broke in. "We've already tried it."
Faces turned quickly to him.
"What do you mean?" LaForge asked.
"I decided not to wait. I have the authority. Macha and I carried out a full weapons attack on the alien ship."
Pike smiled wryly and nodded. "Successful, was it, Captain?"578Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGCkGWLFff3
"Missiles and rockets and bomb clusters all detonated long before they reached the alien ship. Lasers and radiants and vibrationals were deflected or absorbed without effect. We launched three full strikes, and not one got through."
"All those explosions?" Racine said in disbelief. "I didn't hear or feel anything."
LaForge sneered at him. "You misunderstand the concept of a vaccum, Cole?"
Racine just looked confused, but nobody was going to explain it to him.
Jean-Luc shrugged. "That's why I'm open to ideas. I don't have any more myself. I'm hoping someone will."578Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCFuew1h2RZ
"Pray," the bishop eventually said.
Nobody else said anything. Jean-Luc stood and paced deliberately back and forth at the head of the table.
"I know it seems hopeless. It may be hopeless. But I will not give up. And you will not give up. We'll reconvene every twelve hours to talk about possibilities and impossibilities, sooner if someone comes up with anything. In between, think. No idea is too strange or ridiculous. An unworkable idea may inspire in someone else an idea that will work."578Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ8NinUJBZSe
He stopped pacing, swept his gaze slowly around the room, letting it rest briefly on each of us. "I'm the captain of this ship, and I will not give up." He paused. "Questions?" When nobody spoke up, he said, "We'll meet again in twelve hours. I expect everyone to be here."
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