Jain walked back toward them as a smiling Bendes said something to Spock; she didn’t catch it. Probably something about the countdown.
It’s done. Finally.
She was still overwhelmed by the sense of relief that had washed over her when she’d flipped the switch; nothing else mattered. Jim Kirk and his high-flying morality could go to hell.
Mr. Spock responded to Kettaract’s smiling statement by ignoring it, turning to Jim instead.
“We have to leave immediately, Captain. This station will be destroyed.”
“Can we stop it?” Jim asked. “Break the equipment, shut down the computer?”
“Negative, we could accelerate the process.”
“I think you should stay for the show,” Jain said, but Jim wasn’t listening. He snatched up his communicator and flipped it open, talking fast.
“Scotty, lock on to us, prepare to go to warp.”
The hum of machinery was filling the room, the other scientists clapping and laughing as they filed into the observation booth.
Jim turned and waved his arms at them, shouting. “Listen to me! You have to evacuate, now!”
“Karen!” the Enterprise doctor called, but Dr. Patterson was well inside the booth.
Kettaract started waving, too, shouting louder than either of them. “Everything is fine! Everything is fine! Sixty seconds or less!”
The team members Jain could see looked confused, but they still moved into the booth, finding their seats. She knew they would, they had faith. They knew Kettaract was right. For all his personal failings, he was a genius.
Jim spun around, his frustration absolute, his jaw clenched. “Spock, the ship—”
“We have to leave now, Jim. If we’re caught in the initial explosion—”
Jim looked at Jain, his eyes flashing with fear or rage, his expression desperate as he spoke rapidly to his ship. “Five to beam up, and go to warp as soon as you’ve got us, any direction—”
Kettaract turned and ran toward the booth. Jain backed away, shaking her head. There was no way she was going to miss the miracle, not after all she’d sacrificed, and she’d be damned if she’d let him pull her away. She’d won, they both knew it—but for some reason she just kept seeing the look in his eyes before he’d walked away from her.
How dare he pity me.
“We were right to back Kettaract,” she said, still backing away. “You’ll see.”
“Energize,” he said, and it wasn’t fear or rage in his face as the matter of his form locked, it wasn’t pity—but a vast sadness that she couldn’t understand, that made her ache just a little, all the same.
He and his men shimmered into glittering energy and were gone.
They’ll be back. They’ll want to see for themselves.
“Jain! Twenty-five seconds!” Kettaract, at the door to the booth.
She turned and jogged to meet him, arriving just as Dr. Patterson pushed her way back out.
“They’re gone?” she asked, definitely upset. “Dr. Angelo said he was calling me—”
Jain shook her head. “They’ll be back in a little while,” she said. “The captain’s science officer gave him some bad advice, that’s all.”
“Fifteen seconds,” Kettaract said, as happy as she’d ever seen him. “Let’s take our seats, Doctors.”
There were several people talking about the captain’s bizarre behavior, a few of them quite concerned, but the anticipation level of the others was higher, and it drowned out the uncertainty. The booth was alive with it, the scientists acting like delighted children.
“Five,” Dr. Kettaract said, and the others joined in, counting down. Jain didn’t. It was her life she was watching, it was going to be wonderful and powerful and important—and it was all she had.
“Three . . . two . . . one . . .”
It’s enough. It’s—