Lost Time
without looking that the same thing was happening to Wong, to Gomez, to Haznedl, to the remainder of his skeleton crew left aboard.
    “Because it’s my choice,” said Gold to an empty ship. “And I’ve chosen for you. ”

    “No,” someone said. Duffy didn’t know who, didn’t care because his gaze was riveted to the main viewscreen: to the Keldon warship still so intent on its prize that its captain likely wouldn’t realize what was happening until it was far too late as, indeed, it already was—and to the fiery, brilliant whorls of plasma and gas so dense they obscured the stars that were, even now, dimming as the Gettysburg ’s saucer sped away, in the opposite direction, running for and toward its life.
    Then he felt someone at his elbow and knew who it was before he turned because she brought with her the scent he associated with love and all that was best in his life. He pressed Gomez to his side, unable to speak or tear his eyes away.
    “Oh, God,” she said, her voice watery. “Oh, God.”
    As if from a dream, Duffy heard Shabalala’s voice, far away. “Commander Salek, sickbay reports the Bynars—they’re not aboard. They didn’t report when the saucer—they didn’t get off, they’re—” He broke off.
    No one spoke. There was nothing more to say.
    As much as he didn’t want to look, Duffy made the choice to look because he knew this was a moment he must remember for the rest of his life.
    Because memory is life, and I choose life.
    The Belt truly was beautiful in all its lethal, glorious power. But what took his breath away was not the sight of the Keldon warship caught like a helpless, thrashing fly in the web of the Gettysburg ’s expanding warp bubble, or the luminous deflector beam spearing through space into a whirlpool of colors brighter than the heart of a molten sun.
    No. What captured Duffy and held him tight was the Gettysburg, hurtling toward destiny and pulling a rainbow behind: an arrow flying true for a fiery heart.

    Time nearly stopped. As it should, the dilation effect of the warp bubble combining with all that gas, debris, and plasma. One part of Gold’s objective mind knew that he had, at most, thirty seconds before the autodestruct blew the Gettysburg apart. But it was enough, and so he watched as the deflector poured its energy, its life into the belt….
    And the light at its center: white as bone and as pure as revelation.
    Gold heard the lift doors sigh and before he could register what that meant 111’s voice came from his left: “We are here.”
    “Oh, no,” said Gold. He’d prepared himself for this moment, knowing it might come, believing that his life alone was forfeit because he had chosen for Kira and her people, and for his crew. But now …“What are you doing?” Then he saw what wasn’t there. “Where’s your combadge? Why?”
    “Captain,” said 111. She laid her hand on his, and her fingers were cool. “We are telepaths—”
    “—or had you forgotten?” 110, to his right. “It is better—”
    “—that one not die alone,” said 111. “We are here.”
    “And so is she; she is—”
    “—here,” said 111, and she pressed her hand to his heart. “Where she has always been.”
    “Because where there is memory—”
    “—there is life,” said 111.
    The pain and joy in his heart were so intense it was as if he’d been touched by an angel. “Rachel,” said Gold—and now he turned his face to the light. “ Rachel …”
    There was a flare of white light. A starburst of color.
    But, most of all, there was light.

Chapter
11
    “H ow do you feel?”
    “Badly,” said Soloman. They sat in Gold’s ready room; the da Vinci had appeared as soon as Gomez powered down the deflectors—and their counterparts had deactivated their device. What they had encountered was, in Gold’s words, “a whole other story.” Soloman had been checked out by Dr. Tarses on DS9 and pronounced fit. “I chose very poorly.”
    “Yes, you did. And in the

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