After the initial recovery, Khan ordered the still recuperating Augments to gather everything of value and pile it into the Botany Bay. Despite the fact that many were still suffering from concussions and open wounds, they worked hard and fast. Besides death itself, very little could hold them back when survival was in question. To conserve energy, they tightened the fence and shrunk down their once ambitious borders. Unused to the new temperatures or terrain, they slept together in the ship like a group of teenagers sleeping over at a strange house, silent and alone, staring out into the night with wide eyes. Not terrified…just lost.
It did not help that Khan Noonien Singh, the strong, the determined, the brilliant…it did not help that he suddenly entered into a strange state of inactivity. Some perceived it as a retreat from this sudden crashing down of all their dreams. Some saw it as shock, others as deep thought or cowardice.
But Marla knew what it was. Khan was waiting.
She saw him glance up at the sky often, brows furrowed, brown eyes searching the heavens with an urgency that in any other man would have been desperation. In him, it was intensity. He was waiting for Kirk. He knew him to be a man of honor and simpleminded compassion, a man who would return to save them from this even if it was only to bring them to another wilderness. But even a wilderness would be better than this wasteland.
So Khan waited, keeping his people close together with their belongings, like refugees of war, waiting forever for the train that would take them to safety. For weeks, he glanced up at the sky with trusting expectancy.
Weeks passed, and Kirk did not come.
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Marla pulled at her blanket, trying to tuck it tighter around her shoulders as the big, roughly made bed poked into her back. She lay quiet a moment, watching the metal roof with wide blue eyes, listening as it creaked in complaint, buffeted by the wind outside.
The Botany Bay had fallen apart, its abused seams finally surrendering to the hot wind that whipped burning sand into every nook and cranny. It had already been an outdated, overused wreck when the Enterprise dropped it here, and the catastrophe had only accelerated the inevitable.
Now they had all begun living inside the Enterprise cargo bays, the only things that could withstand the fierce dust storms that rose up every other month. Sometimes, the worst blasts would make them rock back and forth like unsteady ships.
However, through a stroke of luck, Joachim and Cho-Mee had discovered deep caverns, miles and miles of underground chambers that were laced throughout the subsurface of the planet. Khan had instantly set a team to work, sweeping out the centuries of dust and debris, securing the entrance and moving their supplies and furniture in. With luck, the caves would soon be ready to serve as their storm-season shelters, when the desert buffeted them hour after hour with winds like this one.
The door slammed open, more from the force of the gale than the man coming inside. He shut it against the howling storm with far more ease than Marla would have thought possible. Then again, he was Khan Noonien Singh, the greatest of the Augments.
She scooted to the far side of the bed, watching as he pulled off his sand mask and ragged coat, kicking them into a heap in the corner. He was tired. She could see it in the slight slump that weighed down those ever-strong shoulders. He turned around and went towards the bed. It seemed like split seconds between sitting and then crashing down on his back, a deep, deep sigh of contentment escaping him as his body finally realized it could stop pushing itself to the limit.
He stared at the ceiling, just as she had. There was a raw, jagged cut that slit open the muscles of his neck, near the jawbone. It was red and angry, but the scab had dried. Khan always made light of such injuries and it was often hard for him to sympathize with hers. True, his nerves were the same as any other man's, even more sensitive, in fact, but his ability to heal was infinitely greater. He hurt more, but he could stand it better, which seemed to Marla to be a bit of a contradiction.
"Where'd you get that?" Her whisper slipped through the silence without breaking it as she reached out with a finger and traced the outline of the cut, carefully avoiding the sore skin.
Khan smirked at the roof in a tired way, acknowledging her presence with a barely discernible motion of his hand as it closed the distance between them, touching her lower arm beneath the sheets. "An accident. Christopher's boy was playing by the pumps. He was caught by the suction and as I reached in to grab him, my chin was pierced by the sharp edge of the exhaust port. The boy is safe, however. He is to stay in cargo bay 3 until he is old enough to not wander mindlessly."
"It's a good thing that…that Captain Kirk left us the cargo bays," Marla said quietly, watching him for the change she knew would come at Kirk's name.
A dark storm seemed to roll through his face, clouding his tall brow, pulling the mouth into a tight frown of rage. He twisted his head to face her, his black hair pulling across the pillow beneath his cheek. "Indeed, we are blessed that 'Captain Kirk' left us anything at all. We had six months, exactly half a year; he allowed our hopes to build. And then he destroyed all our chances without a thought!" He snapped his fingers at the last word, gritting his teeth at the sky, brown eyes searching as if he could actually see the Enterprise above their heads and was judging his aim with a spear.
"It was a natural disaster, Khan. Kirk couldn't have blown up a planet."
This time he turned his scornful eyes on her. "Really? Ah, thank you for making it clear to me. So, Kirk leaves us on a planet that conveniently goes to the seven hells in six months. Of course, there was no way that he and his amazingly advanced technology could know this. And, of course, there is no reason to expect he would send help or even check on us somewhere in the next century. Has it ever crossed your naive mind, my dove, that Kirk has told no one of our existence? That we are absolutely alone, marooned here for all eternity? This is his gift to us. This is his mercy." He sneered.
Suddenly, he seemed to relax again, his rigid muscles sinking into quiet apathy. He reached forward, drawing his fingers through her fading red hair. Marla closed her eyes, reaching forward herself to touch his black locks, pulling it back from the face that haunted her most beautiful dreams and her worst nightmares.
"And this is your reward, my dove," was it only desperate hope that made her hear the sadness in his voice? Was he sincere, or was it yet another of those games he loved to play with human passion? "You are the flower that chose the summer sun over the rich soil you were born in, and it has burned you. Sometimes I wonder what you think about all this, but I do not ask. There is…something…that lies between us…" his voice grew thoughtful, searching.
Marla opened her eyes, cupping his chin in her palm. "I don't mind…I have enough."
He smiled, his brown eyes glinting with the magic of an Indian fairytale, the sparkle of a prince, and the fire of a palace courtyard. Beauty and civilization that had held back the jungles of India for over a thousand years. But it had not been completely successful.
Beneath the statues of powerful gods, there was the terror of the lurking tiger. Behind the paintings and frescos of stories wonderful beyond man's imagination, there was superstition and whispers of the evil that lurked in the darkness beneath the trees. Echoing under the singing chants of the people, there was the howl of the beast.
There was a beast in Khan, made of the passions and temper that were natural to him, but genetically enhanced by scientists seeking to create the perfect human being. Marla saw it, and it horrified and terrified her. Yet there was also strength, beauty, even goodness …and she fell in love with him. She was trapped with him now on a dying planet, with nothing to save her from the beast, and no one to show her how to find the man.
She had chosen this path, and she had to walk it. But at least, she reflected, as they fell asleep in each other's arms, at least she would not walk it alone.
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Khan wiped the sweat from his forehead with his bare arm, dropping the useless, rusted metal panel he had been dragging. It fell to the ground with a thud, bringing up swirling clouds of sand. As he trudged towards the storage compartment he and Marla called home, he saw her sitting on a rug in front of the door. He could always spot her red hair on the desert, no matter how far away it was.
As he got closer, he looked at what she was doing. Her thin, nimble hands were trying to mend the holes in one of his few, precious shirts. Not many of his people bothered to do that, especially the young men, who were happy to burn themselves if it meant they could show off their fantastic physique. Marla had forced herself to learn to sew by pulling the threads out of older rags, attaching them to sharp pins and poking them through the rent fabric, trying to keep the ever-widening fissures together for a just little while longer.
They had food, blankets, and emergency medical kits, but for some forsaken reason, clothing had not been supplied in large amounts. Which was, Khan thought sarcastically, fantastic, since no clothing would ever last long here, anyway.
She looked up as he approached and smiled at him in welcome. Her mouth was no longer painted with lipstick, and no eyeliner or blush was layered over her tanned skin. Her hair, once a brilliant, fiery red, had faded ever so slightly under the constant changes of hot and cold weather, burning sun and acid rain.
But her eyes still sparkled, and her smile retained the fresh, heart lifting sweetness it had always held for Khan. It was still the treasure he sometimes fought to earn, the treasure he would lock away in his mind's eye to warm his heart when it was heavy.
Crossing his legs, he sat down beside her, pulling the shirt from her hands and tugging it experimentally. "A good job, as always. This will hold for another day, perhaps," he joked, sticking a finger through another hole carelessly. The wasteland was hard on fabrics.
Marla smiled again at his sally, but her eyes were very far away and pensive, as she stared out over the dusty horizon. Khan frowned, looking at her as he dropped the fabric on his knees. "What troubles you, woman?"
She hated it when he addressed her as 'woman'. Khan knew that very well, which was why he did it. Her unhappy mood irritated him because it made him uncomfortable, which of course meant it was all her fault.
"I'm…I always want to be honest with you, Khan," she said finally, dragging her large blue calf-eyes back to his, "you've protected me and married me and, well, done no more than you promised," but your heart? Is it truly mine…can it truly be anyone's? "But last month…I realized I was pregnant."
He froze; his hands gripped hard on the shirt; the fabric squeaked in agonized tension. He instinctively looked at her thin, flat stomach, so obviously devoid of life, than up at her face. When he spoke, his voice was low, thick, and hard. "A child?"
She nodded, swallowing. The dull, glazed over look in her eyes was rapidly filling over with moisture. She sniffed, lips tightening in a violent effort not to tremble. "Early this month, I realized it. Then I caught that fever…and the baby was gone."
Fever. Gone. A simple illness, and his child had died. His own thoughts from what seemed ages ago crashed like a cymbal in his brain, could her fragile body bear my children?
Well, it seemed now he had his answer.
The patter of tiny feet, bright little eyes, hands reaching up to him for nourishment, protection, affection….a child to carry on his bloodline and his name, a reason to live on in this death trap, all lost…because his weak, fragile wife had a fever!
"You." The rage spun up through his chest, temper flaring as he threw the shirt hard on the ground, nearly smacking it into her face accidentally. Her entire body jerked away, startled, as she gave a breathless gasp of shock.
"You lost my child! You let him die! This is what I get…this is my reward for taking you to wife! A brittle, flimsy, inferior creature, and I am stuck with her for all eternity!" His voice echoed across the desert.
Marla flinched away from him, her face jerking away in the slightest motion of a startled bird. But she met his gaze again in an instant, her tear streaked face flushing with what, Khan recognized with surprise, was rage. She flung herself forward onto her hands, causing him to flinch away. On all fours in a 'fight or flight' position, her face level with his from where he sat, she dug her nails into the sand, grinding them together. "Don't. Blame. Me!" she hissed. Her thin hand clenched into a fist and she raised it as if she would hit him with it. For a minute, Khan thought she would. "I…I loved my baby too!"
"Woman!" He protested, hoping to calm her down with a show of stern displeasure, using the name he knew she hated.
"Beast!" She spat back, violently hauling her thin body to stand above him, "it was my baby too!" Then she ran, dodging some Augments who came toiling into camp with a huge sheet of scrap metal, probably peeled off an abandoned cargo bay.
Khan pulled himself to his feet and stumbled around them, craning his neck as he ran, hoping to get a glimpse of Marla before she disappeared into the desert, the huts, or wherever women went to cry…he had lost his wits for only a moment when he saw the fury in her face, but when he finally shoved past the confused Augments, he realized it was a moment too much. She was gone.
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Marla was gone for so long that Khan had actually considered sending a search party out for her…despite his better judgment that it was a weakness and a waste. There was no living thing out there, except perhaps the ghosts of the Augments who had been caught by the initial blast, buried alive in burning, freezing sand even as the moisture was sucked out of their bodies, their souls…leaving them to wander the deserts as sad, shriveled spirits that wailed across the empty, endless sands.
Dark thoughts, fairytales fit only for his native India…Khan shrugged them away. He resumed his restless pacing, glancing outside to where Marla now sat, cross-legged, on a pile of supply cartons. The sharp breeze lifted her red hair up and down, and the mere sight of it wriggling around like a living thing in the setting sunlight was enough to wipe away the faces of the dead from Khan's mind.
He should approach her. He should bring her inside before it got much colder, or a storm settled in, as the swelling horizon seemed to threaten. Maybe he should announce dinner early. Bah! That was ridiculous. She was his wife, and she should obey him.
However, short of throwing her over his shoulder, he was unsure how to make her.
He paused, throwing an arm up and leaning against the doorframe of the cargo bay, ignoring the creaking sound. There she is, the thin, delicate child of my future, the offspring of a diluted humanity that has spread itself so thinly across the stars, integrating hordes of aliens into its society, government…even its bloodstream! And what has she gained by all that? She sits there, small against the violence of a desert world…a world of death. A world…that could be…too much even…no, not quite too much. Almost too much for my Augments. We will survive.
But she? He subconsciously flicked away the knotted black hair from his face, as the wind tossed it about, penetrating the much warmer atmosphere of the cabin. She has no chance…no more chance than a snowflake in this desert. And yet I have taken her in. I bound myself to this woman, and she has shared my exile…my execution. I am bound to her, because she is my wife.
Almost against his will, his eyes moved to her lower back, his imagination beholding the child that was once carried safely inside her. A son. My son. A child that carried my bloodstream…mingled with hers.
Had Marla thought of this? Khan had never even stopped to consider how this loss…however much her fault, would affect her. Mothers were always especially fond of their children; the normal ones, at least. Khan's mother he had never known. She did not love him enough to keep him by her side, but she did him perhaps the greatest favor in the world when she donated him, body and soul, to the Eugenics Program. Khan would never forgive her for the first, and he would never thank her for the second. It was a point in his mind he had fully settled and stored away: his mother.
And now, Marla was a mother. The mother of a child without a name, whose entire life, brimful of possibility, glory, and beauty had been sliced off, ripped out like a root from the earth, denied to Marla as surely as it had been denied to Khan. Not even a marked grave could they build for his lost son, for a tombstone lasted no longer than the blink of an eye before it was buried, buried miles below their feet in the dry, whistling sand, burying his child and all knowledge of it, leaving only another ghost among thousands…
Gods, he cursed angrily, why do I keep thinking on the dead?!
Some evenings, sometimes, when all the work was done and his body was left empty, all his fantastic store of energy taxed out of him by life on this dead planet, he indeed almost felt like a ghost himself, so light and empty that he could flit away on the wind and wail, wail eternally with dead spirits. But he must not think of that. He could go mad.
His baby. Marla. Motherhood. Did she miss her child?
"I…I loved my baby too!"
Her words, before she had gone berserk. He remembered them now. Yes, Marla was hurting too. She was weak and sentimental, even more so than most human beings he had met. He should not have expected her to understand the full gravity of his loss, not when it was still so fresh for her.
He had been…what was the word? Hasty? Unwise?…Inconsiderate?
He would not worsen the damage he had already done. Marla was feeble in mind and body, but she had pride. If she had no other good quality, at least she had pride. That was something Khan could appreciate.
So he would spare her pride and soothe her hurt and bring her inside before she damaged herself by sitting outside in the approaching storm. She would not be able to sit through the tempest for long until the winds and the stinging sand drove her inside, but before that happened the sand-laden air could become so thick that she would never find the door in time and be buried alive.
He strode out, his heavy-duty boots sinking up to his ankles in sand. Although she was sitting on a thick, trilanium bound crate, his head still came just above hers as he stood behind her.
She knew he was there. He could tell by the shift in her shoulders, the simply, barely perceptible change in the aura that surrounded them both. She didn't say a word.
Khan's lips pursed slightly as he tried to gather his thoughts, rather wishing she had spoken first. It would have been easier, not to mention less humiliating. He stared at her red hair, watching the very last rays of sunset bouncing off it like ripples of gold. His face softened. My wife, my beautiful, beautiful Marla.
Standing straight and tall, almost protectively, over his little wife, looking out over a desert realm…for a split instinct, he forgot he was a doomed man trying to wrestle existence from the death-grasp of a barren rock. He was a ruler of Earth, a man of power who had found a precious flower from paradise that was all his own. He felt generous, like a prince. Suddenly, it all became easier.
"Marla," he said softly, "I was, perhaps, somewhat careless in what I said earlier. The baby…boy or girl, would have been most welcome. Would have been most beautiful. When I heard that it was dead…a simple fever," he whispered to himself, as if unable to believe it.
Marla's shoulders stiffened; Khan could sense more anger and hurt, rising like the heat that filled the flimsy cargo bays every afternoon. Alright, so Marla was refusing to take any blame in this matter. Obstinacy. He liked that. He could afford to indulge her just this once.
"I admit that it is not your fault. We must…we must recover from this loss together, you and I…Marla," he put one of his big, brown hands on her shoulder. She moved under his touch, flowing with it as she turned around in one fluid motion, her back to the storm. The wind now blew her hair in front of her face, but Khan could see the blue eyes staring at him, judging, sparkling, and burning.
Khan swallowed. "Marla, I am truly sorry for you…as sorry as I am for myself. I am sorry you lost your baby…our baby."
Marla's face was still silent, still blank, except for the storm of emotion that flared in her eyes. She listened to every word and saw them for the blanket they were…but what did they cover? Can't you even say you loved the baby? Can't you say you love me? Do you love me?
Khan's face flushed with irritation at her continued silence and confusion at her prolonged scrutiny. "Are you listening to me, Marla?"
Finally, something in Marla sputtered to life. Her shoulders lost their rigid stance, and the animation of constant sorrow, broken dreams, and eternal hope flooded her face; her lips parted, "The baby…he was all fire, Khan." My baby, the baby I will never see again. I felt life beneath my heart, touching me as nothing else could. So much beautiful, fiery life…then nothing. She blinked back her tears, studying the face of the man she loved, the man who hurt her so very much. Beautiful but untouchable, like the flames of a temple, august, mysterious and harsh, utterly inhuman and forbidding. "He was all fire…like you."
"He is all fire," the tall, thin-faced woman says, turning the baby over with gloved hands as it screams at her, screams at the strangeness of it all.
"He will do very well," replies the other scientist, the man with the cold fingers and hard eyes.
Khan smiled, pleased by what he perceived as a compliment. His wife once again admired him; all was well. But the smile was sad, for all that. "Indeed, he would have been beautiful…but I still have you, my beloved," he held out his arms for her; she went into them, into the one refuge she could find on the entire planet besides the confines of her own mind. And for one moment, clasped in his embrace, feeling him, smelling him, exotic and wild and strong and wonderful, feeling as if he loved her…she could pretend all was well.
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Marla struggled over the sand dunes, avoiding the rocks that pushed out of the ground as if they were especially made for ankle breaking. Her boots scraped over hard surfaces before sinking into a sea of dust. She and one of the Augments had been tasked with repairing the electro borders.
The fence, once deemed such a useful tool for their future settlement, was now no more than a comet of civilization, a symbol of what they had once had, destined to burn itself out. No more energy could be spared from the ship itself to recharge the power packs, but Khan had decreed that, while the fence lasted, they would use it. Dying mutants and starving predators still dragged themselves in from heaven knew where, desperate to nourish themselves with human flesh.
The constant winds, however, made it extremely difficult to keep the fence in one piece. Boulders moved during the night, creating a never-ending, always-shifting maze for the Augments to struggle through, with only the frequently shrouded stars and sun as their guides. Many large rocks crashed into the fence at regular intervals, damaging the circuits and bending the ironmeta bars.
It was hard for Marla not to stare at her companion; a tall, muscular, attractive woman with honey-blonde hair, emerald eyes, and a wide, strong smile. But that was nothing, nothing at all compared to the baby on her back.
They reached the fence in silence, except for the squealing, spitty shrieks of excitement from the baby that seemed to reach Marla's tortured ears even through layers of protective fabric. Her empty arms felt all the weaker because there was nothing warm and alive to burden them.
The intrusion on the fence was a boulder. Thankfully not too big, being only as high as Marla's waist and twice as wide. But it would take a special jack with wide pedals to keep it from sinking into the sand, and someone had to lift up the rock in order to allow the jack to be slipped underneath.
Elizabeth, the Augment, swiftly and silently volunteered by pressing her shoulder to the hard surface, carefully keeping her baby away from the boulder. Then, with the exciting, impressive show of strength that all Augments were capable of, she heaved upwards, lifting it a full two inches off the ground. But that was as far as she could go; already, her legs were trembling. One impatient, imperious glance from those flashing green eyes was enough to make Marla almost rip open the pack, dry fingers feverishly sorting through hard tubes that clanked together as she selected just the right one.
She shuffled on her knees through the sand, red material slowly filmed over by dust as she unfolded the jack and pushed it over, yanking awkwardly at her hair by accident as she secured it under the rock. She wasted precious seconds trying to untangle her red tresses.
"Marla! Move it!" Elizabeth snapped, grunting at the strain. It took strength of will to keep her voice from breaking into a shriek.
Marla finally scooted back on her knees. "Alright! Let it down!"
The boulder came down swiftly, almost too swiftly. The jack creaked under the weight that pressed it inexorably into the sand, but it held. Elizabeth stepped back on light, stringless legs and dropped heavily to a sitting position. The baby began to fuss, and she shifted her shoulders comfortingly while giving Marla a demanding look that spoke volumes.
Marla came forward again and grabbed the handle, pumping it up and down, eyes glancing upwards uneasily as the boulder, looking huge from that particular angle as it loomed over her, began to rise.
Aching muscles that were small, far too small for what she was compelling them to, do began to pull and tear. Sweat trickled down her neck as an ache twinge throbbed dully through her back. The air seemed hotter and far too thin, but under Elizabeth's scornful eyes, she forced herself to continue. Something pulled in her wrist, leaving her with the kind of pain she knew would last for days.
Marla was angry with herself. She had lived on this planet for almost a year now. She should be able to do this! She should have the strength!
Elizabeth stood up, weariness forgotten. "Stop now," she ordered.
Marla stopped. Elizabeth pressed herself to the rock and took a deep breath. Her back arched, heels digging into the sand as she willed the boulder to move, pushing it over the tiny point of perfect balance and causing it to crash backwards with an earth-splitting groan, the dust flying in curling clouds as it landed with a thud.
Now that the barrier-path was free, they could repair the fence itself, thus reelectrifying the entirety of it. Marla sighed as she folded up the jack and stuffed it into the heavy, thick pack.
Elizabeth nearly shouldered her off her feet as she knelt beside her, sorting through the equipment with feminine hands that were terrifyingly strong. "You find the work difficult, hmm?"
Sitting in the sand like a defeated toad, Marla nevertheless bristled at the mocking tone. "The work isn't what I find difficult. It's the self-satisfied, she-hulk company."
Elizabeth's blue eyes stormed. "You have quite a tongue, with Khan as your protector!" she snarled. Her hand grabbed Marla's arm painfully, jerking Marla's body forward like a rag doll. The baby on her back gave a whimper, and Marla's eyes teared up; more from the pain of remembrance than the vice-like grip on her arm.
Elizabeth saw it; her new motherhood having granted her a level of perception not common among the Augments. It was the kind of perception that allowed her to understand, even sympathize with the feelings of others. She knew Marla had lost her baby. She felt the warmth of her own child on her back with a newfound gratitude, because she had not lost hers.
Elizabeth eased off the pressure, letting Marla sit back gently to nurse her arm. She smiled ruefully, "we Augments have a hasty temper, Marla, a temper that can easily kill you. A sharp tongue is not what we need right now."
"And I really don't need mockery right now…but you're right, I should be more careful in what I say. I don't know what came over me…I think his Excellency is rubbing off on me," Marla ended bitterly.
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in surprise. This was something she could not understand. "Any woman in the camp would be honored to marry Khan…some of them would kill their own husband, and you, if it would make it possible."
"But why?! What's there to love about him?!" Marla hissed.
The Augment smirked, "surely, you would know that better than I, you who betrayed your ship for his sake after knowing him for only a few hours."
"I was crazy," Marla said at last, eyes downcast, "I have no idea what came over me."
"I don't blame you," Elizabeth grinned, "He has eyes that just…burn through you…warmth that makes you shiver…such shoulders, such breadth of chest…"
"How can you be so shallow?!" Marla snapped, remembering how she had sold herself so quickly, with no idea of what she had been doing. On looks alone. Looks alone! How could she have been so stupid?!
Elizabeth merely laughed, throwing back her head in that arrogant gesture so common to the Augments. Marla wanted to bury her head in her hands, to shut out an image that was fast becoming a nightmare.
But suddenly, Elizabeth stopped. Like a pricked tigress, she stood, slipping the baby off her back and slinging it gently to the ground with one hand while snatching up a blaster with the other. Her green, crystal eyes flashed once at Marla, ordering her to be still and silent. Without asking, Marla scooped up the baby and held it to herself protectively.
They were no longer Augment and human. They were two women defending themselves and a child from the harsh world around them.
Elizabeth turned around just in time to catch the hurtling, roaring form of a creature that seemed to magically appear in the air above her. Larger than a full-grown man, covered in shaggy black hair, its eyes almost neon green, it came down upon her, claws extracted. Elizabeth gave a cry of challenging rage and aimed the blaster…
The beast fell on her and, with terrible strength, as easily as a boy tearing the wings off a fly, ripped her arms off. Sand sprayed Marla as Elizabeth was crushed onto her back by the weight of the creature, screaming. Something flopped against Marla's face, bounced against the baby's skull, and dropped lifelessly into the dust.
It was Elizabeth's arm. The phaser was still clutched by the cold, white fingers that had squeezed Marla only a few seconds before. Marla yanked the phaser out of the death grip and aimed it at the struggling mass of flesh and fur, trying to block out the animal growls that completely muffled the frantic, blood-clogged sobs of agony from Elizabeth; praying that her shaking hand could aim straight…
She fired. A purple glow spreading out to burn mercilessly through the beast. Red blood spattered her face as the creature collapsed, pulling its teeth out of Elizabeth's arteries, leaving the bloodstream free. There was blonde hair on its muzzle.
The baby began to cry.
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Marla didn't remember exactly how she reached home. She only remembered walking, the blood drying on her face, sticky and warm as the whirling, floating dust clung to it. The baby was still sobbing, but Marla made no move to comfort it. She poured all her energy into making each foot move, making each step, blocking out all thoughts.
But then, her boot slammed against hard metal, a crate. She shuffled on, right through the garbage pile as she scattered rags and papers about. She just kept moving, somehow hoping to find a wall that would collide with her head and put her out of her misery.
Instead, strong arms grabbed hers like vices, nearly making her drop the baby. "Marla! Gods, what has happened? Where's Elizabeth?"
Was that worry? Concern? She laughed. She could even think of that, when Elizabeth was lying in a little pile of human remains, blanketed by a monster from space, still smoking from the phaser blast…and she could think on her failed marriage, with an orphan in her arms and blood on her face! She threw back her head and laughed in Khan's face, hysterical, blind to the horrified concern that was writhing in those fiery brown eyes, the worry that marred that strong brow.
He shook her, still trying to get some sense out of her, "Marla! Where is Elizabeth?! What has happened to you?!"
Marla's voice pierced the air, suddenly light and squealing, like a teenage girl's, "Dead…and I killed it!" Somehow, on the word 'killed', her voice dipped savagely, tearing her throat as it clawed its way out. She had killed.
Oh, what a day. Dear Lord. So tired. Elizabeth's dead. Save me. I can smell her blood. I'm falling.
She fainted away, collapsing into Khan's bare, sweaty arms. Taken completely by surprise, he fumbled, one arm wrapping around the infant in a frantic effort to keep it from falling.
Joachim rushed forward and neatly slipped the infant into his arms, backing away as Khan put his arm behind Marla's limp knees and swooped her up. Barely pausing to give him a dark-eyed glance of gratitude, Khan rushed into the closest cargo bay.
So light, he mused vaguely, ducking his head as he entered the doorway, she's so light. I wonder what she met out there…what happened to Elizabeth.
Khan had a warrior's instincts, and he knew death when he saw it, even as a phantom in the face of a witness. There was virtually no chance of finding Elizabeth's remains, and even less of finding her alive.
Elizabeth. The blonde beauty, we called her, at that last dinner together before we left Earth 200 years ago. So full of life, flirting with Teuton, boasting of the beautiful children she would bring into our world, children she said, who would dazzle us, put us to shame…she boasted like a true Augment, like a true leader. She was fearless. To my face, she said she would follow me…until someone better came along. I thought her to be heartless and cold as she was dazzling.
But then she cried when she realized Teuton had been caught in the death of our world…and I realized she had a heart.
He laid Marla out on the bed, pausing only to lay a hand on her forehead, to check for fever. She was exhausted, but she would survive until he came back. He raced outside, barking out orders for several Augments to come with him, and at least one to stay with Marla and the baby.
Then, he set off along the fence line, forging a path into the desert to bring Elizabeth…or her body…home.
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Khan sat on a boulder at the foot of one of the mountains, his leg propped up as he used a knife to smooth out the wooden shaft of what seemed to be a spear. There was nothing to hunt on Ceti Alpha, nothing left alive on a planet that had once held more species than Khan could name. It was impossible to believe that this was the same world; that the desert that stretched out before him had once been a lush, green valley with a wet, shining river rushing through it.
Even the mountain that stretched above him was utterly changed…the trees, the bushes, the grass…it had been stripped off in layers, leaving only the hard skeleton of rock to bake beneath the sun, baking until it split and cracked with the heat.
So why was he making a spear? Making a wooden spear in a world where wood was almost as rare as water, and the only thing he could plunge it into was the heart of a fellow human being?
Because he needed to. He needed, just this once, to do something unnecessary, something normal, not because he had to...because he wanted to. It was a weakness, however insignificant, and left Khan feeling slightly guilty whenever he gratified it.
He was not alone. Joachim, his second in command as well as his closest friend among the Augments, was standing on the ground a few feet away. He was tearing the old fibers out of a water filter so it could be reused. Tedious work but necessary since their supply of filters was so small. He was facing the low sun of the late afternoon, his back turned towards Khan.
Khan glanced up at him; being around Joachim often felt safe. However, Khan often got angry with himself for this, for being dependent on him. For the same reason, he never let himself depend on Marla. For the same reason, he never depended on anyone but himself.
"Going to spear a boar, Excellency?" Joachim's voice interrupted his thoughts.
Khan almost smiled as he sliced harder at the wood. "Perhaps. If I can find one that eats sand, my friend."
Joachim grinned. He scratched behind his ear as he turned around. "And if you cannot?"
Khan raised his eyebrows. "Then we will be eating sand tonight."
Joachim snorted. As he crossed his legs and dropped down to sit in the sand, a cloud of dust rose up around him. As it settled and Joachim's features cleared, Khan was vaguely reminded of the Eugenic Wars, when he single handedly killed the Emperor of the Americas and Joachim had used thick smoke and a knife to destroy the twelve guards outside.
They had always been allies, he and Joachim. They had met as boys growing up in the Eugenics program, but never thought much of each other. It was when Joachim later came to him in Asia with his own force from Spain and offered his services…that was when their alliance (Friendship) started.
Joachim had killed whomever Khan ordered, provided he explained why. It was always the same. Joachim almost invariably sided with Khan, but required the attention and respect of an equal. He would not serve blindly. He would die for Khan with his eyes open. The only question Khan had never been able to answer was, why?
"All those years on Earth…" He said finally, causing Joachim to look up at him, "Why did you ally with me? When every Augment was out for himself, climbing to the top over a pile of thousands dead, why did you choose me as your leader?"
Joachim was silent for a moment. Then he turned his attention back to the filter. "You were my best option."
"I had the smallest holdings, the weakest army! Even Marie held more power than I! What kind of option is that? How could you possibly have known I would become a prince of millions?" Khan's brown eyes sharpened, gazing at Joachim with fond searching.
"I didn't," Joachim replied shortly, "I knew I had to work with someone. To hold power alone is fatal. I knew, when I met you, that you were the one I had to follow."
"You met me during a political execution," Khan smirked, returning to the spear as he carved the end into a point.
"I met you when you spared a man for his mother's sake."
Khan's hands froze. But it took only a moment to regain control. He looked up, and his brown eyes were hard. "Are you never going to let me forget that?"
Joachim reached down to scratch his ankle, but the tension in his neck and shoulders belied a complete focus on the man he spoke to. "You managed something no other Augment ever had before. You showed mercy."
"One moment, one mistake. I never realized you based your choice on sentiment, Joachim. I had thought better of you."
Joachim was completely unfazed. "You have enough voices telling you how strong you are," he said simply, grey eyes tired, "you hardly need me to add to it. I follow you for the sake of another strength I see in you, one that you are blind to. I hope someday you find it…but I will always follow you."
Khan ignored Joachim completely, taking his words and mentally kicking them behind him like a passed soccer ball. He pointed at the other man with his carving knife. "Elizabeth found this 'strength' you speak of, I believe. She learned to show mercy and compassion after the death of Teuton broke her. And now she is scattered throughout the dessert like sand." She has sunken into the planet like the dust, one more wailing ghost to join the dead.
He dropped his eyes, unable to shake the horrible image of picking up her arms…her bleeding arms, and dropping them in an orange body bag, Listening, feeling it as they flopped against each other in a jumble of flesh, leaving streaks of blood over the mauled face, where the emerald eyes still shone so brightly, staring straight at him almost accusingly as he closed the bag, entombing them in darkness forever.
All around him, echoing in the dark cracks of the rock as they waited for night to fall, he could already hear the ghosts. Dying…people dying had never struck him so hard before. Because now, he was not in control of who died. He had no time to tell himself what a noble cause it was for, to weigh the evil against the greater good. He was no longer a prince making a sad but necessary choice in war…he was a leader, a father almost, watching as everyone who ever trusted in him was ripped away by fate.
They were not distant soldiers. They were names, faces he knew better than his own. Allies, friends…and this possessed planet, this living hell…it took them away, it swallowed them alive, leaving only their shrunken, gibbering spirits to torture his brain. He was not going mad. He could not go mad. Still…green eyes…blood…eyes staring…"She always used to ask me which part of her I liked best," he muttered finally, "I had plenty to choose from that day."
Joachim glanced sharply at him, searchingly. Then, the stern look faded out of his face as he seemed to comprehend the very thoughts that were echoing relentlessly in Khan's head. He watched his leader with the helpless, sorrowful look of a man watching someone drown beyond his reach.
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The tiny, underground chamber was walled with rock and floored with sand that had slowly trickled in through the entrance over the years. There was a boiling pool of liquid that occupied one end, slowly painting whatever it touched a ruby red and then eating it away. It filled the cave with a constant murmuring echo that bounced from wall to wall. Two figures blocked up the entrance, cursing and swearing as they tried to pull their large chests through the narrow hole. "This…." Joachim panted as he finally jerked through, dropping heavily to his knees, face filmed over by sweat, "is not worth the effort."
Khan stumbled beside him, ripping out a metal canister from his belt as the unstable sand shifted, a sheet of earth that nearly pulled him down with it. "I say it is worth it. This liquid is the only chemical on the planet that we can possibly analyze and use. Who knows…perhaps someday it could be fuel?"
"Khan…" Joachim tried, feeling a little hopeless, "who has time to analyze?"
"Our wounded and sick," Khan replied sharply, "at least they will not sit idle. We must all push ourselves beyond our strength if we expect to survive. Besides," he added, and for a moment, his brown eyes losing their focus as his face hardened, "it will not hurt them to dream a little."
"You have no hope?" Joachim asked finally, a hand shooting out to steady himself as the cave lurched, the liquid in the bubbling pool beside them splashing dangerously. Joachim hazardously shifted on his knees, moving away from the pit.
Khan swayed with the tremors, using his own weight to readjust his balance. He gave Joachim a withering look. "Do you? Does anyone? I said dreams, not hope." Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, he turned urgently to Joachim. "This is not to pass beyond us. They may have given up hope, but to hear me proclaim it would send them into an abyss of despair and insanity. We Augments have always been unpredictable, wild, passionate. Without a unifying dream, all is lost. If I fail to remain strong for them, to lead them in one direction, they will scatter and destroy themselves."
"I understand." That was all Joachim needed to say. Khan knew he'd keep that promise.
Khan bent down and leaned forward, dipping the metal flask into the pool, his eyes screwed almost entirely shut as steam billowed into his face. A drop of sweat ran down his nose. The liquid hissed and screamed as it touched the cool surface of the canister and then rushed inside, frothing.
He sat back, careful to shuffle far enough so that his boots didn't accidentally slip in the sand and touch the poisonous acid. Keeping the canister away from his body, he slipped the lid on and set it down hard in the sand, waiting for the liquid on the outer casing to dry before he dared to handle it. It still made him queasy to think he would be carrying this close to his hip on the journey back.
"Who is strong for you, Khan?" Joachim asked suddenly.
Khan looked up, brow furrowed. "Something about this planet has changed you, Joachim. You speak like a soul searcher, like a man closer to death than life. You speak, to be frank, like a fool."
Joachim merely laughed. "Yes, it has changed me. When death is the only future to look forward to, you begin to wonder more about it. About the afterlife that follows, and whether you are worthy to embrace that afterlife. Whether your friends and loved ones will meet you there."
Khan paid the words only slight attention. "Oh, now you are talking religion. That is enough for me," he said in mock horror, raising his eyebrows at Joachim as he stood up.
Joachim sneered at him and straightened, getting on his feet. He gave the acid pit a good look, wincing as a particularly large bubble burst, spraying hissing, steaming drops everywhere. "If you come back here again, take someone else. I will not run from death, but I would rather not court it."
"And if I say you will come?" Khan teased.
Joachim was eager to play this game. Khan had not done anything this lighthearted in too long a time…it was good for both of them, like old times, when they wrestled in the royal palace, fell off the balcony and landed in the pigsty. Which had happened more than once. "Then I will throw you over the Botany Bay, your Excellency."
Khan's hands clenched into fists, but he was smiling. "I would like to see you try, Joachim the Willow."
Joachim remembered the pit that bubbled dangerously beside them. He pointed at Khan's chest. "I will gladly try…out in the desert. Remember that day you over-ate and I easily won our match?"
Khan frowned at the memory, but even his sensitive pride could not be hurt by his old friend. A dangerous yet sparkling glint danced in his eyes. "There is no danger of overeating here."
Joachim laughed again. Then, the cave vomited. Sand spilled as the walls quivered wildly. The bubbling, frothing pool agitatedly swept upwards towards them. The canister tipped, the lid opened. The grayish white stream splashed onto Khan's foot.
Khan swore wildly, jerking away from the canister as he cried out in surprised, enraged pain. He stepped back unthinkingly. His heel shot out into empty air, and he lost balance. For a split second, he was frozen in that horrible place between stability and obliteration. And then he began to fall. Horrified, hands reaching out for something, anything. He felt burning heat on his back.
Two hands latched onto the front of his shirt, tearing it, yanking him upwards. Joachim. But as he pulled him, his own feet slipped on the sand as the feeble traction gave way under the added weight. He fell hard onto his back, Khan almost on top of him.
Then he slid.
Reflexively, instinctively, Khan snatched Joachim's hand, nearly getting torn along with him down into the acid pool. He dug his heels in, arm muscles bunching, but it was all too late. Joachim gave a spine-raking scream as he sunk up to his waist in the acid.
Khan smelled roasting flesh. "Joachim!"
Grey eyes, rimmed by red, dilated with pain and confusion, met his. Burned lips, gargled voice, "Khan…"
"No! Pull, curse you, pull!" Khan roared, throwing all his power into rearing upwards, not even thinking about the fact that he might as well be pulling out half a corpse, a man already dead.
But it didn't help anyway. Something, he had no idea what, was steadily, irresistibly pulling Joachim deeper. He held on, fingers digging painfully into the other man's wrist as he sunk to his belly. "Joachim…" Khan whispered suddenly, as if speaking to a sleeping child, "pull."
"I can't…nothing lef..ft…" Joachim had froth coming out of his mouth. His body was rapidly deteriorating, rotting, but his eyes were so terrifyingly bright, so terribly alive. One arm sunk, just sunk into the acid, falling off at the shoulder.
"NO!" Khan held on. Sweat (tears) left pale tracks across his face. "Not you! My right hand…my friend…"
Joachim blinked, mouth open, gasping as his shoulders were swallowed up with a hiss of steam. His grey eyes literally shaking with agony, suppressed agony that was too powerful for him to even scream. And yet, at Khan's words, there was the slightest answering pressure in his grip. He looked straight at Khan, and he smiled.
Then he disappeared, his face collapsing into sheets of flesh that dissolved into smoke.
Voice tore out of Khan's throat, ravaging it, emptying his chest, roaring like a beast as he realized what was happening. His hand was like stone. He would not let go. He could still pull him up…
The weight of the dead body pulled his right hand into the acid up to his wrist. He felt the burning agony that ate all the way to his bones and reared up on his knees with a scream, clasping the smoking wrist between his knees, coughing on the scent of burning flesh. He bowed his head, trying not to listen as the pool bubbled mockingly at him. He tried not to think of how much the man had meant to him.
And Joachim was sucked down, always down, always buried, to join the dead ghosts of Ceti Alpha VI.
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"What happened?" Marla asked softly, watching Khan's face carefully as he pulled a thick black glove over his mangled hand. Khan and Joachim had gone out into the desert, searching for the acid pits. They should have been back before the day ended; Khan had returned two days later, alone.
He did not look at her. "What do you think?" He said it almost nonchalantly, as if she was stupid for asking, "Joachim is dead."
She blinked. "Oh." What could she say? She knew he needed someone to say something, but what? She felt so far away from him, so unconnected. She was married to him, and yet she didn't know what she could say that could possibly ease his burden. He probably wouldn't even appreciate the attempt.
But she had to try. Because no matter what troubles lay between them, she still loved him. Because she wanted to help him. Because she knew how close he had been to Joachim. And now there wasn't even a body to bury. "I'm sorry."
Khan's voice was brittle. He turned around so she could not see his face as he pulled on his thick desert robes. "He is not," he snapped, slamming the door open, "He wanted to see the afterlife, after all!"
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I do not see ghosts. I hear them. Elizabeth, Teuton, Hanz. Joachim. I hear them wailing forever in my head, all of them lost under my care, sucked down deep into Ceti Alpha, sucked down and absorbed. Buried alive. Under miles of sand. Buried until only the ghost could survive, ripping out of the body and fluttering over the sands, wailing. I am not mad. I will not listen to them, even if I hear them.
I must be strong.
Author's Note: I did mention that the purpose of this tale is to tear Khan apart and then rebuild him, didn't I?