STAR TREK - TNG - The Devil's Heart

VIP免费

2024-12-20 1 0 581.88KB 261 页 5.9玖币

侵权投诉

THE DEVIL'S HEART

Carmen Carter

Volume I of Three Volumes

Pages i-x and 1-158

For special distribution as authorized by Act of

Congress under Public Law 89-522, andwiththe

permission of the copyright holder.

Produced in braille for the Library of Congress,

National Library Service for the Blind and

Physically Handicapped, by Braille International,

Inc., 1996.

This braille edition contains the entire text of the

print edition.

Rights Reserved.

BOOK JACKET INFORMATION

STAR TREK (R)

THE NEXT GENERATION (TM)

A NOVEL

STAR TREK THE NEXT GENERATION--JUST the

latest chapter in a star-spanning entertainment

phenomenon that has captivated audiences

nationwide for over a quarter century! That

audience made REUNION and IMZADI, the first

two STAR TREK THE NEXT GENERATION

hardcovers, national bestsellers. Now,

Pocket Books presents THE DEVIL'S

HEART, a thrilling saga of adventure and

betrayal, featuring Captain Jean-Luc

Picard, Lieutenant Commander Data, and the rest

of the crew of the U.s.s. Enterprise

(TM)!

The Devil's Heart--a legendary object

of unsurpassed power and mystery. Worlds that

believe in magic consider it Darkness's

mightiest talisman; worlds of science consider it

a lost artifact of some ancient and forgotten

race. Some say the Heart enables its

possessor to control men's minds, and to amass

wealth enough for a dozen lifetimes, while others think

it capable of raising the dead, perhaps even changing the

flow of time itself. But to all, the location of this fabled

object has remained a mystery--until now.

An isolated archaeological outpost has

suddenly stopped responding to repeated requests

for information. Sent to discover why, the U.s.s.

Enterprise (TM) crew finds a

devastated outpost and a dying scientist, whose last

words fall on disbelieving ears the Devil's

Heart has been found.

Now, as the quest for the Heart unfolds,

Captain Jean-Luc Picard discovers the awful

truth behind all the legends and the ages-old

secrets whoever holds the Devil's Heart,

possesses power beyond all imagining. ...

Carmen Carter's first Star Trek (R)

novel was Dreams of the Raven. With the advent

of Star Trek The Next Generation (TM),

however, she turned her attention to the new crew

of the U.s.s. Enterprise (TM) in

The Children of Hamlin and then coauthored

Doomsday World.

After twelve years of urban living, she has

recently resettled in Northern Virginia where

she can see the Blue Ridge Mountains from her

front porch.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters,

places and incidents are either products of the

author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual events or

locales or persons, living or dead, is

entirely coincidental.

Dedicated to Kate,

who read my books

even before she knew me.

Acknowledgments

Dave Stern believed in this story from the very

beginning and fought for two years to provide me with the

opportunity to write it. If not for him, you would

be holding some other Star Trek book in your

hands right now. I owe him a debt beyond measure.

Thanks, Dave!

Many of my friends have followed the progress of this

book since its inception, some page by page.

Their wealth of comments and reactions helped me

to structure the book and then to polish it. My

special thanks go to

Kate Maynard, who casually said, "Why

don't you make the archaeologists Vulcans?"

T'Sara was born as a result of that suggestion,

and my path into the story began to unfurl.

Cary Dier, who wanted to read this book years

before the first words were written and never lost hope that

the Heart's story would eventually see print.

Her keen eye and relentlessly linear mind made

her an invaluable editor.

Delia Turner, who steadfastly wielded her

blue pencil over the manuscript

pages when she would rather have just enjoyed a good read.

Jessica Ross, for letting me use the

idea behind the Borg sequence.

The Star Trek universe has become

increasingly complex, so there were times when I needed

to delve into technical details beyond my own

understanding. Several people provided me with timely

assistance.

Betsy Ramsey and Cary Dier provided

me with computer terminology that wouldn't make

hackers scream in agony or die laughing, and

thus saved me from public humiliation.

"Doc" Audrey Gassman cast her

professional eye over Beverly Crusher's

medical scenes. I confess that I decided

to let dramatic license overrule authenticity

in a few instances, so don't blame Audrey

for the results.

I also relied heavily upon the STCCTNG

Technical Manual by Rick Sternbach and

Michael Okuda for information about the construction and

operation of the Enterprise. Any errors in that

area are due entirely to my misunderstanding of their

exceptional reference work.

Great Minds Think Alike Department

In the two years between the submission of my first

proposal of The Devil's Heart and the

final acceptance of the storyline by Paramount,

Peter David wrote Imzadi and saw it

published. By sheer coincidence, both of us made

use of the Guardian of Forever, although it plays

only a minor role in my story. For the

record, neither of us was aware of the duplication.

THE DEVIL'S HEART

Prologue

Iconia was dead.

The planet itself would remain intact until its

sun went nova, but the world he had known, the soft

tissue of life rooted on the fragile

mantle, had already been destroyed. Constant

weapons bombardment had vaporized its shallow

seas, incinerated its verdant plains, and

eradicated all who had once inhabited its

surface.

Barbarians.

Kanda Jiak swayed on his feet as yet

another tremor rocked the Gateway chamber.

The station was shielded against detection and proof against

even a direct photon blow, but the land itself was

shifting under the impact of ceaseless explosions.

Could there be anything left worth attacking on

Iconia, any city that had not been razed by the

firestorms? Or was their hatred so fierce that they

prolonged this holocaust out of sheer bloodlust?

After First Contact, the philosopher Senega had

warned that a disparity in technologies could

unsettle other races; she predicted that knowledge of

Iconian superiority would foster fear and

distrust; and as a final legacy before her death, she

prophesied the final fatal connection between fear

and the rage to destroy what could not be understood.

Demons of air and darkness, that is what they

call us.

Ironically, after the diplomats failed

to turn back the space-faring hordes gnawing at

the edges of the Empire, the Gateways that

inspired such superstitions had provided the

ultimate salvation for the surviving Iconians.

Over the last few days, ten thousand of his people had

slipped through narrow rips in the fabric of

space; they and their descendants would build new

homes on the remote outposts of Ikkabar,

DiWahn, and Dynasia. Iconian

language and culture would survive even if this

world was pummeled into dust.

Now it was Jiak's turn to cross the

threshold.

He settled the weight of the Gem into the crook

of his arm. In a room of gleaming metal

panels, humming consoles, and the crackling blue

energy of the Gatekey, this rough rock seemed

strangely out of place, yet it had

built this structure just as surely as the

legions of architects, engineers, and

technicians. The secrets of the entire

universe were locked inside this ancient relic,

and three generations of Iconians had only begun

to coax out that knowledge.

Blue. Red. Blue. Jiak tapped out a

familiar sequence on triangular buttons.

A jagged bolt of light shot out of the central

control globe, forming a dancing umbilical

cord to the narrow frame of an activated

Gateway.

He scanned the cycle of shifting landscapes.

Three habitable worlds were open to him, yet his

final choice meant nothing to him; all were

primitive compared to Iconia.

Farewell.

Jiak stepped forward, and through.

No! This is wrong!

On the other side, the blare of a red sun

seared his eyes, and a gust of dry, heated air

sucked the moisture from his lungs. He sank

deep into the ground as shifting grains of sand gave

way beneath his feet; his weight had doubled under the

force of a heavier gravity.

This desert world was not of his choosing, and he could not

survive in this harsh climate.

"Save me!"

For the past three decades, the Gem had been

his talisman. He stroked the stone in

supplication, but in the midst of this blazing oven it

had turned ice cold.

Jiak collapsed onto the ground. The Gem

fell from his weakened grasp, and he watched it

roll out of his reach.

"Betrayed," he whispered hoarsely. "You have

betrayed me. Why?"

Alone out of all the Iconians, Senega had

called the Gem a curse rather than a blessing ...

the price of True Knowledge comes high ... too

high.

As he slipped toward death's embrace,

Jiak dreamed that his life was nothing but a mirage

shimmering in another mind ...

She cried out her fear of dying alone in the

desert until her flailing arms wrapped themselves

around the stone.

Not lost after all. Not dying.

She awakened enough to separate her own

thoughts from Jiak's identity, to remember that she was

safe in her own bed on a planet called

Atropos. Her covers were tangled about her

feet, but the Gem's heat warded off the chill

night air seeping into her tent. With a sigh of

relief, the old woman curled on her side,

tucking herself around the sphere as if afraid it could

still tumble away from her.

Ko N'ya.

Yes, that was the Gem's name in her language

... and that language was Vulcan.

I am T'Sara.

Even lying still on her cot, T'Sara's body

felt limp, drained by the ordeal that had been

Jiak's and her own blurred together. True

sleep would help restore her strength, but she

begrudged the waste of time. She wanted

to explore the lives of all who had held this

stone before her, and that quest could take many years

to complete.

Tonight, in this dream, T'Sara had seen her

homeworld through the eyes of an alien being, felt the

heavy pull of its gravity on a body that was not

her own. Most important of all, however, she

had discovered another bridge in the meandering path

of the Ko N'ya. The leap from far-distant

Iconia to Vulcan would have eluded her

otherwise.

Any thought of embarking on another search was

suspended by the sound of movement in the compound

outside. The other archaeologists had cleared the

rubble from around their shared habitations, but T'Sara

had no patience for such domestic touches. She

could hear the scuffle of boots climbing over

mounds of fallen stonework and crumbling walls.

By her count, at least four Vulcans were headed

toward her tent.

The visitors came to a stop just outside the

domed enclosure. Someone's hands brushed

lightly across the fabric wall until probing

fingers found purchase on the ridged seams marking

the entrance. A shaft of moonlight slipped through

the widening breach.

"T'Sara?"

Because it was Sorren, she said, "Enter."

The young man slipped inside, then resealed the

portal with more care than she had taken. Each day

she was less and less concerned with the basic

necessities of survival. If not for

Sorren's prodding, she would forget even

to eat.

She made no move to activate a lantern,

and he did not ask for light. The darkness made it

easier for him to ignore the Ko N'ya when they

talked.

"T'Sara, your cries have awakened everyone in

the camp ... again."

The others who had kept him company remained

huddled outside. She could hear them taking shallow

breaths of the frigid air. "I was restless."

"These spells of unrest are becoming more

frequent."

"I have slept away too much of my life,"

said the woman. "I intend to make better use of

my remaining years."

"I am still young, however; and I will never reach your

august age if I am robbed of my sleep

now." There was a hint of wry humor in

Sorren's remark, a rare self-indulgence from

such an earnest young Vulcan.

"Then go back to bed, my child, and I promise

not to wake you again." Her position as leader of the

expedition invested her words with the authority of a

direct command.

"Very well," he said. She heard the rustle

of the seals parting, felt a cool draft of air,

then saw Sorren's willowy silhouette as he

stepped through the opening. "I will bring you some tea in

the morning."

He closed the entrance, plunging her back

into darkness and warmth, yet T'Sara could hear him

whisper to his waiting companions. "It was only

a bad dream."

"That is what you said last night," said

Sohle. His gruff voice merely roughened when

he tried to speak quietly.

"It is no less true for having happened a

second time."

"How many disturbances does it take to convince

you, Sorren?" asked T'Challo. "T'Sara

is ill."

"My last medical scan did not confirm any

ill health."

"You are no doctor," said T'Challo. "And

it is time we ..."

The voices faded away before T'Sara could

overhear any more of their discussion, but she had no

interest in their bickering. Morning was still a few

hours away.

She had just enough time to fall into another

dream.

CHAPTER 1

Captain Jean-Luc Picard slept with the

same air of authority he carried with him on the

bridge of the Enterprise. Even in the privacy

of his darkened cabin and the haven of unconsciousness,

he maintained a commander's demeanor. The silken

blue pajamas he wore only emphasized the

hard contours of his body he lay flat on his

back, his lean frame held at attention

except for one arm flung above his head; his lips

were set in a firm, unyielding line.

It was not a comfortable pose, but then Picard was not

a comfortable man.

A spacious cabin with generous furnishings, their

smooth wash of pastel colors, a lush plant

gracing the table by his bed--none of these luxuries

had softened his sense of responsibility, or his

conviction that danger could be held at bay only

by unceasing vigilance.

As if to vindicate his subconscious wariness,

the trill of a communications call marred the silence

that had surrounded him. The captain was awake and

alert before the second ring of the summons had

sounded. Quickly rolling to a half-sitting

position, he cleared his throat to erase

any trace of sleep from his voice.

"Picard here."

"Incoming message from Starbase 193,

Priority Two."

"Thank you, Ensign Ro. I'll take it

here in my quarters." Knowing the commander of the starbase

in question, Picard automatically scaled down the

urgency of the call by at least one degree;

Miyakawa had a tendency to overdramatize,

文档加载中……请稍候！
如果长时间未打开，您也可以点击刷新试试。

下载文档到电脑，查找使用更方便

5.9 玖币 0人已下载

立即下载 VIP免费下载

摘要：

THEDEVIL'SHEARTbyCarmenCarterVolumeIofThreeVolumesPagesi-xand1-158ForspecialdistributionasauthorizedbyActofCongressunderPublicLaw89-522,andwiththepermissionofthecopyrightholder.ProducedinbraillefortheLibraryofCongress,NationalLibraryServicefortheBlindandPhysicallyHandicapped,byBrailleInternational,I...

展开>> 收起<<

STAR TREK - TNG - The Devil's Heart.pdf

共261页,预览53页

还剩页未读，继续阅读

声明：本站为文档C2C交易模式，即用户上传的文档直接被用户下载，本站只是中间服务平台，本站所有文档下载所得的收益归上传人(含作者)所有。玖贝云文库仅提供信息存储空间，仅对用户上传内容的表现方式做保护处理，对上载内容本身不做任何修改或编辑。若文档所含内容侵犯了您的版权或隐私，请立即通知玖贝云文库，我们立即给予删除！

STAR TREK - TNG - The Devil's Heart

相关推荐

开通VIP享超值会员特权

作者详情

相关内容

热门标签

举报选择: