To Reign in Hell: The Exile of Khan Noonien Singh (5 page)

A young Russian ensign—Chekov, by name—stepped forward from the ring of security officers. Khan recalled that the youth had shown courage during his short-lived takeover of the
Enterprise
, leading a failed charge to retake engineering from the superhumans; that the Russian’s charge had failed did not diminish his valor in Khan’s eyes.

“Excuse me, Mr. Khan,” he said, a trifle nervously, “but I’m to inform you that
Enterprise
will be departing shortly. As arranged by Captain Kirk, the provisions for your colony have already been delivered to the planet’s surface.” The youth gestured toward an assortment of bulky metal cargo containers, resting safely distant from the muddy banks of the river. “Besides your supplies from the
Botany Bay,
Captain Kirk has also provided you with some essential technology from our ship’s stores.”

“I see.” Khan nodded in approval. “I am certain that all is in order, per your captain’s instructions.” Kirk himself had chosen to take his leave of Khan in the transporter room of the
Enterprise
; their farewells had been terse and unsmiling, as befitted two recent adversaries. “Just as I am certain that my people and I shall thrive and prosper far beyond James T. Kirk’s expectations.”

“Of course,” Chekov agreed diplomatically. He glanced at Khan’s wrist restraints and removed a small electronic device from his belt. “If you’ll just raise your hands, sir, I’ll remove your manacles now.”

“Thank you, Mr. Chekov,” Khan said, smiling slyly. “But that will not be necessary.” Extending his arms in front of him, he clenched his fists tightly and exerted his strength. His eyes narrowed in concentration and a grimace twisted his lips as he pitted his more-than-human sinews against the impregnable steel cuffs. Twenty-third-century alloys surrendered with a metallic shriek as his bonds twisted and snapped apart, freeing his hands without assistance from Chekov or any other mortal.

That’s better,
Khan thought. He enjoyed the startled expressions of his captors.
Let them not forget my true superiority
.

The Russian gulped, even as the wary security officers shifted into a higher state of alertness. A half-dozen phasers pointed in Khan’s direction, but their regal target showed no sign of alarm. Calmly, unhurriedly, he raised his empty palms to demonstrate that he meant Chekov no harm.

Flustered, the young ensign handed Khan the electronic key anyway, then turned toward Marla. Pity softened Chekov’s expression as he addressed his soon-to-be-former crewmate. “Er … some of your friends aboard the
Enterprise
asked me to give this to you,” he said, producing a small object wrapped in crinkly metallic foil. “To remember us by.”

Khan looked on as Marla accepted the item, which turned out to be a silver medallion in the shape of the Starfleet emblem. Marla appeared touched by the gift, and her voice, when she spoke, was hoarse with emotion. “Thank you so much!” A sad smile lifted her lips. “It’s comforting to know that not everyone on the ship hates me.”

“Hate you?
Nyet!
No one hates you,” Chekov insisted, perhaps a bit too quickly. Judging from scowls and stony glares of the red-shirted security guards, Khan suspected that the young Russian was not being entirely truthful. No doubt many of Marla’s onetime comrades now regarded her as a traitor and a disgrace to her uniform. Khan only hoped that she did not see herself the same way.

I shall see to it,
he pledged,
that she comes to know that she chose wisely. She shall have no regrets
.

“Are you sure about this, Lieutenant?” Chekov asked Marla, obviously reluctant to leave her behind with Khan and the others. “It’s not too late to change your mind.” He watched her face carefully for evidence of second thoughts. “Once the
Enterprise
leaves, you could be stranded here forever.”

Khan bristled at the youth’s presumption.
How dare this pup attempt to subvert Marla’s allegiance, as if linking her destiny to my own is such a doleful fate?
He opened his mouth to rebuke the impertinent ensign, but Marla spoke first.

“I appreciate your concern, Pavel, but it’s all right.” She looked up at Khan without a trace of indecision. “I know what I’m doing.”

Chekov nodded grimly. “Then there’s only one thing left
to do,” he announced. He removed a phaser pistol from his belt and handed the powerful firearm over to Khan. “To defend yourself against hostile life-forms,” he explained, “along with the antique guns and weapons stored aboard the
Botany Bay
.”

“Excellent,” Khan declared. Even outnumbered as he was, it felt good to have a weapon in his hand once more. “Tell Captain Kirk I am grateful for his foresight.”

With no further business to conduct, Chekov and the other Starfleet personnel did not waste time returning to their ship. Khan watched in silence as the
Enterprise
reclaimed its own with a flourish of shimmering incandescent energy. In his mind’s eye, he imagined Kirk upon the bridge, giving the command that would send his magnificent starship hurtling away from Ceti Alpha V, toward the distant reaches of the galaxy.

Khan allowed himself a fleeting moment of regret. If only Kirk had not managed to regain control of
Enterprise
…! It would have been good to be in command of such a vessel, complete with its awe-inspiring phasers and photon torpedoes. The
Botany Bay
had been state-of-the-art when stolen from Area 51 back in 1996, but the
Enterprise
made his primitive sleeper ship seem like a rowboat in comparison. Who knew what sort of interstellar empire he might have carved with such a fearsome warship at his disposal?

But that was not to be.

Very well,
he thought, turning his back on the past. Ceti Alpha V was his future now, and he was determined to make the best of it. Milton’s immortal words came at once to his mind:
“The world was all before them, where to choose their place of rest, and Providence their guide.”

Taking a deep breath of the hot and arid air, Khan surveyed his new domain. With an entire planet’s worth of landing sites to choose from, great care had been taken in his selection of this particular location. Located in the planet’s southern hemisphere, this particular geographic region was not unlike the fertile Indus River valley that had served as the birthplace of Indian civilization. The nearby river was bounded on both sides by endless kilometers of semitropical grasslands. In theory, according to planetary modeling conducted back aboard the
Enterprise
, their proximity to the river would lend itself to agriculture, especially after the coming rainy season, while the sprawling veldt no doubt abounded with fresh game—as well as, he took care to remember, the attendant predators.

It appeared, in short, an altogether fitting place to found a dynasty, and to commence his inevitable reign over the entire planet.

Let us begin,
he thought.

No longer separated from his people by the intrusive Starfleet myrmidons, Khan strode toward the waiting throng: his genetically enhanced brothers and sisters from the distant years of the twentieth century. The surviving crew of the
S.S. Botany Bay
had followed him from the dark days of the Eugenics Wars into an unknown future, in search of new worlds to conquer. Forty-one men, not counting himself, plus some thirty women besides Marla. Looking over the crowd, whose simple attire resembled his own, he spotted the faces of many of his most loyal lieutenants: Suzette Ling, Liam MacPherson, Vishwa Patil, and, of course, his faithful bodyguard from the old days, Joaquin Weiss.

The latter, a looming giant of man whose stolid expression
was as blank and emotionless as a block of granite, stepped forward from the crowd, taking his place beside Khan as though the centuries they had spent in suspended animation had never transpired. Long ago, Khan had liberated Joaquin from an Israeli prison, where the belligerent superman had been serving a life sentence for multiple assaults and homicide, and Khan knew that the brawny, brown-haired bodyguard would gladly die before letting any harm come to him.

“Greetings, my old friend,” Khan said, grasping Joaquin’s beefy arm. “Together again, just as before.”

Joaquin grunted in agreement.

Letting go of the bodyguard’s arm, Khan raised his voice to address his people. “Friends, comrades, fellow explorers, our time has come! Did I not promise you a new world, fresh and unspoiled and ripe for the taking? Across vast spans of time and space, we have at long last arrived at our glorious destination. Here, upon this virgin planet, we will plant our seed and build a civilization—a truly
superior
society—such as the universe has never seen before!”

Cheers rose from most, but not all, of the assembled castaways. Khan noted the discrepancy, but made no mention of it … yet.

“But first we must prove our worthiness to survive,” he continued. “These early days will not be easy. We shall have to struggle to find food and shelter, and this alien world surely contains dangers that we can scarcely imagine. But I promise you, my brethren, follow me and I will lead you to greatness once more!”

“Like you did back on Earth?” a sarcastic voice called out. “Like you did aboard the
Enterprise
?”

Khan’s eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened. “Who speaks?” he demanded coldly. “Show yourself.”

A tall blond figure emerged from the crowd. Khan recognized Harulf Ericsson, a Scandinavian superman who had served as one of Khan’s foreign operatives back on Earth. With a leonine mane of bright yellow hair, a fulsome beard, and a powerfully muscled physique, Ericsson was the very picture of his Viking ancestors. “I speak,” he declared with distinct Norwegian accent. “And not just for myself.”

Glowering murderously, Joaquin lurched toward Ericsson, but Khan held up his hand. “No,” he said sternly. “Let him continue.”

Ericsson needed no encouragement to voice his insolent slander. “Why should we follow you again, Khan, when you’ve led us to nothing but disaster! We fled Earth in defeat, driven off our own planet by our inferiors, and all because we mistakenly placed our faith in you. Then we spent centuries lost in space, trapped in cryogenic suspension, while our ship’s life-support systems failed and many of our valiant comrades perished in their sleep! Then, finally, you revive us to capture the
Enterprise
, only to be defeated by Kirk and his minions—including her!”

He cast an accusing finger at Marla, who trembled but refused to shrink before Ericsson’s vitriol. Khan smiled, proud of her for standing her ground.

In truth, he had been anticipating a challenge of this sort. Superior abilities ofttimes led to superior ambitions, and Khan had guessed that it would be only a matter of time before one of his followers sought to unseat him. Now, at least, he knew from which direction the threat came.

“I see,” Khan responded, reining in his justifiable outrage. “Have you forgotten what became of the rest of the
Children of Chrysalis?” he asked, referring to the top-secret project that had created Khan and the rest of his genetically engineered kin. “They are all long gone, exterminated centuries ago by fearful humans, who outnumbered them billions to one. We are all that survive of that noble breed, thanks to my bold decision to abandon Earth and strike out for a new homeworld somewhere in the stars.
You
, Harulf Ericsson, are alive only because I granted you a niche aboard the
Botany Bay
.” Khan clasped his hands above his heart. “Your gratitude,” he said sarcastically, “overwhelms me.”

Ericsson scowled at Khan’s gibe, unwilling to surrender just yet. “You may have been our leader back on Earth,” he conceded, “but that was centuries and light-years ago.” He glanced warily at the phaser lodged in Khan’s belt, but kept on speaking, egged on by others of like sympathies, who clustered behind Ericsson like jackals hungering for a lion’s kill. “A new world requires a new leader,” he called out to Khan. “Why should that leader be you?”

“Because I am
Khan!
” Had there been a podium before him, Khan would have shattered it with his fist. Instead he looked away from Ericsson and his lurking band of jackals in order to speak directly to his people as a whole. “It has been said that to conquer without risk is to triumph without glory. We have suffered reverses, true, and grievous losses, but that is always the case when brave pioneers dare to open up a new frontier. It has cost us much to reach this shore, and yet more sacrifices may be demanded of us, but immortality lies within our grasp as well. Let us unite our efforts to forge a mighty empire!”

On Earth, back in the twentieth century, dissension and power struggles between the Children of Chrysalis had led
invariably to the Eugenics Wars, with disastrous results for all. Khan had spent literally years caught up in a global struggle against his fellow superhumans. He did not intend to let history repeat itself.

He removed the phaser from his belt and openly handed it to Marla.
I need no weapon to squash this petty insurrection,
he thought scornfully.
Only the force of my own unyielding will
.

“Every one of you swore allegiance to me more than three hundred years ago,” he reminded the assemblage. “But if anyone wishes to contest my rightful authority, let them step forward now … and wrest it from me with their bare hands!”

He locked eyes with Ericsson, silently daring the rebellious Norseman to make his move. Long seconds passed, as the entire planet itself seemed to hold its breath. Flanked by Joaquin on one side and Marla on the other, Khan faced his challenger unarmed. Part of him hoped that Ericsson would take the bait, so that he might nip this incipient mutiny in the bud.
“Now ‘tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted,”
he thought, recalling Shakespeare’s immortal wisdom.
“Suffer them now and they’ll overgrow the garden.”

But Ericsson was not so bold. He stayed where he stood, glaring at Khan in sullen silence, until the moment passed and it became clear that Khan had won the day.