Nodding, Reyes replied, “That’s right. Starfleet’s finally figured out what they want to do with me.”
“Bastards,” Pennington said, his expression turning to one of disdain. “Even after everything you did to help Nogura and T’Prynn, they’re still going to throw you in a hole.”
“Nogura did everything he could,” Reyes replied, choosing his words with care. “I can’t say I disagree with Starfleet’s decision.”
It was not a lie so much as an artful navigation of the truth. Nogura had in fact been a staunch advocate for Reyes, convincing Starfleet Command to commute his sentence in recognition for the services he had provided while aboard the Omari-Ekon. However, the admiralty and JAG Headquarters had been unwilling to overturn Reyes’s court-martial conviction. In exchange for the leniency they had decided to show by not sending him to the New Zealand Penal Settlement, Reyes had agreed to go into permanent exile. His life would be comfortable and he would be able to enjoy his retirement at some quiet, undisclosed location where every effort would be made to ensure his new identity afforded him a degree of freedom and anonymity. There would be no official record of his final disposition, save for a classified file at Starfleet Headquarters. Like most of the documentation pertaining to Operation Vanguard, it would be buried under multiple levels of security and all but impossible to retrieve save for those few individuals who would possess the necessary authorization and “need to know.” So far as the rest of the galaxy was concerned, Diego Reyes would cease to exist.
I can live with that. After everything that had transpired since he was named Starbase 47’s first commanding officer, retreating to some unnamed corner of the universe to live out the rest of his days had acquired a definite appeal.
For a moment, Reyes wondered if Pennington might be seeing through his small deception, but if the reporter suspected anything, he had opted not to raise the issue, at least in front of the security guards. Instead, he asked, “So, what brings you down here? I’m surprised Nogura even let you out of your house arrest at all.”
“He’s given me some time to wrap up a few loose ends,” Reyes replied. “Say my good-byes—that sort of thing.” Pausing, he considered the odd relationship he had shared with Pennington since their arrival on the station. They had begun as adversaries, with Pennington on the constant hunt for any information that might fuel his news stories, while Reyes was tasked with ensuring the journalist never got too close to the truth of the station’s actual mission in the Taurus Reach.
“I came to say two things. First, thank you, again, for the things you did that saved the lives of people under my command. You took a lot of risks when you didn’t have to, but those actions made all the difference when it came to those men and women. I’ll never forget that.”
Looking uncomfortable with the praise being heaped upon him, Pennington swallowed before replying, “You’re welcome, I guess. I certainly hadn’t planned on things going that way, but I’m glad it worked out, at least most of the time.”
Reyes nodded. “Second, I’m pretty sure I never got around to saying I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the things done to you early on. T’Prynn was my intelligence officer when she did what she did, so that makes me responsible for her actions. I’ll never forget that, either. I’m truly sorry, Tim, for everything.” He held out his right hand, realizing only after doing so that it might not be the most appropriate gesture, given Pennington’s condition.
For his part, Pennington grinned. “You probably want to forgo that for the time being.” He held up his right hand again for emphasis. “I haven’t quite gotten the knack of not crushing the pulp out of anything I touch with this thing. Maybe next time.”
“Next time,” Reyes repeated, his voice low. Gripped with a sudden bout of self-consciousness, he tried to ignore the sensation that the patient ward had grown cooler in the last few minutes. Drawing a deep breath, he said, “I should probably get going.”
“Thanks for stopping by,” Pennington replied, his gaze shifting around the room. Then, he unleashed another of his insufferable smiles. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I bloody well hope you get wherever you’re supposed to be going this time.”
Once more Reyes laughed. “I’ll do my best. Take care of yourself, Tim.”
“Same to you, Diego.”
It was harder to leave the ward than he had anticipated, but any anxiety Reyes might have felt started to fade the moment he and his security detail emerged into the corridor and found Ezekiel Fisher standing in the passageway as though waiting for him. In his right hand he held what looked to be a large glass bottle filled with a golden brown liquid, and wrapped with a label he was sure he recognized.
“Is that Kentucky bourbon?”
Holding up the bottle, Fisher replied, “You planning to make me drink it by myself?”
“Not a chance in hell,” Reyes said.
After asking the pair of security guards to wait outside his office, which required convincing them that there were no secret exits from his cramped, disheveled workspace, Fisher directed Reyes to one of two chairs positioned around a small conference table in the room’s far corner. The doctor retrieved two glasses from a cabinet behind his chair and commenced dispensing generous portions of the bourbon into them.
“I suppose you can’t even tell me where you’re going,” Fisher said, taking a seat.
Before replying, Reyes sipped from his glass, relishing the smooth, warming sensation as the alcohol worked its way down his throat. “After drinking the watered-down bug spray that passed for booze on that ship, you have no idea how good this tastes.” He glanced over his shoulder to verify that the office doors were still closed before saying, “I’m not allowed to tell you or anyone else that I’m heading for Caldos II.”
Fisher grunted. “Never been there, but I hear it’s nice.”
The colony world was one of five destinations Nogura had suggested as ideal locations for Reyes to “fade away” in compliance with his agreement. Though the original settlement was well established and continuing to grow, the colonists there prided themselves on adhering to the tenets of individuality and personal privacy. It was not uncommon for families to set out on their own and build homes far away from the colony center, either deep in one of the world’s teeming forests or among the isolated mountain regions. “There’s plenty of planet for anybody looking for a nice place to retire,” Nogura had said. The offer was sweetened by the notion that in Reyes’s case, exile did not mean total isolation. He would be given a new identity, so that he could live among the other colonists and not attract undue attention.
“I wasn’t sold on the idea at first,” Reyes said, “but the more I thought about it, the nicer it sounded. Besides, compared to prison, I think I can learn to live with anything. And who knows? I might even be happy there one day.”
“Now there’s something I’d like to see,” Fisher replied, smiling as he took a belt from his glass. “How many people know about this?”
Reyes shrugged. “You, me, Nogura, and two or three of his friends at Starfleet Command who made the whole thing happen.”
“Well, it’s probably all recorded in a computer file somewhere, anyway,” Fisher said. “They still have to get your retirement pay to you, after all.”
“True.” Nogura had also seen to it that Reyes would receive a small stipend. It was not a full restoration of the pay and benefits that would have been owed him had he officially retired from Starfleet, but it would be more than sufficient for living a quiet, anonymous life on a Federation colony world. “Other than that, though, and maybe checking up on me from time to time, they’ll probably leave me well enough alone. Ten years from now, nobody will know or care who I am, or was, or whatever, and I’m okay with that.” He had pledged to Nogura that he would accept and even embrace this generous revision of his sentence, and harbored no intentions of going back on his word, if for no other reason than to avoid dishonoring the admiral and the extraordinary effort Reyes knew he had expended on his behalf.
Taking another drink from his glass, Fisher asked, “So, what are you planning to do with all that free time?”