Available Light, page 20
Riker glared at her. “You can’t be serious.”
“At the moment, nothing’s off the table.” She set aside the tablet. “We’re just getting started here, Admiral. Bodies are going to fall, en masse. I don’t want that to happen, but I likely won’t have a choice. All I can do is go where the evidence takes me, and proceed according to the law. I’m not happy about it, but that’s the job. Right now, what I do know is that Captain Picard seems to be developing a habit of helping to remove duly elected heads of state. Zife was just the first one, but we can’t forget Ishan Anjar, can we?”
It occurred to her in that moment that it was soon after the arrest of President Ishan that her path last crossed Riker’s. There was an avalanche of debriefings, interviews, and paperwork that had followed that very unfortunate and very public removal of the Bajoran impostor who had risen to power while hiding behind an alias and after colluding in the assassination of President Nanietta Bacco. If not for Picard and his crew, with the able assistance of Admirals Akaar and Riker running interference for the Enterprise from the former’s office at Starfleet Command, the truth about Ishan might never have come to light. The first anniversary of Bacco’s assassination was looming, along with all of the events that had transpired in the months following her murder and dealt the Federation a black eye that still had not healed.
And now, here we are, getting punched again.
Seeing Riker winding up to rebuke her, Louvois held up her hand. “Ishan was a completely different situation. Picard did everything he could to make sure I had what I needed to bring a legitimate case for Ishan’s arrest. We owe him a huge debt of gratitude for that, but it doesn’t erase what he did with Zife.”
“You’re really looking to hang him, aren’t you?” Riker had abandoned his reserved demeanor, and now leveled an accusatory finger at her. “After everything—everything—he’s done. Everything he’s given, everything he’s lost, and you’re still looking for a reason to destroy him.”
Louvois did not flinch. “If I honestly thought that, he’d already be in a cell somewhere, but let’s not pretend he hasn’t bent or broken the rules when he decided it was necessary. While we’re at it, the reason you and I are having this meeting alone in a conference room instead of an interrogation room with you in shackles is because so far as I can tell, you’re not implicated in any of this.”
“But you’re not convinced I’m innocent.”
“I don’t know one way or the other.”
Stopping long enough to let her own ire recede, she reached again for the padd. “Tell me, did he ever talk to you about any of the Enterprise’s most recent missions?”
If Riker was confused or surprised by the abrupt change in topic, he gave no outward sign. “No. We’ve not spoken in a while. He’s out in the Odyssean Pass, and I’ve been busy with the Titan.”
Calling up another file from her tablet, Louvois said, “Did you know you have a doppelganger in a parallel universe?”
“If you’ve read the Enterprise-D logs,” replied Riker, “then you know we all have doppelgangers in hundreds of thousands of parallel universes. Maybe millions.”
“I’m talking about one he encountered out in the Odyssean Pass.” She divided her attention between him and her padd as she reviewed her notes. “Seems the Enterprise ran into a parallel-universe version of the Enterprise-D, commanded by that universe’s version of you, from a time about twenty years in the past. Captain Picard wasn’t there, because in that reality he never survived his assimilation by the Borg. He still helped you destroy the Borg cube that was set to attack Earth, but was unable to be saved. So your field promotion to captain was made permanent, and the Enterprise sailed on.”
Riker said, “I heard about it, but I haven’t read the report.”
“I know,” replied Louvois. “Even if you had, you wouldn’t know that after his encounter with the other you, Picard gave him the technical specifications for transphasic torpedoes, to be used against the Borg in his universe.” She tapped the tablet. “He didn’t mention that in his official report, but it is in his personal log as transmitted to the Starfleet Archives Annex at Aldrin City on Luna.”
Now Riker’s irritation was obvious. “You accessed his archived personal logs? Those are supposed to be protected for at least a century.”
“Absent unusual circumstances, you’d be correct,” said Louvois. “But I think we can agree the current circumstances are anything but usual. So I obtained a court order to access his records. My original intention was to search for any mentions of President Zife. You’ll be interested to know that I found none. Not a single reference to the entire affair, recorded for posterity and future historians, which is the primary purpose for archived and protected personal logs stored at the annex. So far as I can tell, Captain Picard told no one about what happened. Not his wife, not you. No one.”
Sighing in obvious exasperation, Riker leaned toward her. “What are you getting at?”
Louvois rested the padd on the table and then folded her hands before her. “Everyone keeps secrets, including Captain Picard. Including you. Until I know whether those secrets are relevant to this investigation, neither he nor you are off my radar or off the hook. Not by a long shot.”
22
Standing with one hip resting against the master situation table that was the centerpiece of main engineering’s primary work space, Geordi La Forge crossed his arms and reviewed the arrays of status readouts and indicators. From here, he and his team of engineers could monitor the current status of every shipboard system, as well as take direct action to access, override, or deactivate anything requiring attention or intervention. The station even allowed La Forge to circumvent—within certain limits—the Enterprise computer’s vast array of autonomous systems in favor of direct human action. His influence over the starship and its thousands of interconnected, often interdependent, yet occasionally conflicting processes from this single station was about as close to being a god as any living being could get, at least so far as the realm of engineering was concerned.
Let’s not get too carried away, Mister Chief Engineer.
“All right,” he said, mostly to himself given there was no one else in earshot. “Computer, enable auxiliary shielding around the warp core.”
The feminine voice of the Enterprise’s main computer replied, “Auxiliary shielding activated.”
“Take all transporter, replicator, and holodeck systems offline. Activate the restrictions I coded for sensors, communications, deflector shields, and life support. Program La Forge Delta Lima Fourteen.”
The computer responded, “Program activated.”
Even without melodramatic comparisons between engineers and deities, this was where La Forge truly felt most at home. Though he had studied engineering while a cadet at Starfleet Academy, it was but one of several subjects in which he had immersed himself. His primary field of training, starship operations with an emphasis on helm and navigation, along with a natural curiosity, led him to engineering courses. To him, at least, the two functional areas shared a much more symbiotic relationship than even some of his fussiest teachers seemed willing to admit. When he pressed a control on a bridge console, he wanted to understand the processes and mechanics involved in carrying out the related instruction.
Initial assignments aboard starships only served to reinforce his beliefs, and the officers who oversaw his duty assignments saw that curiosity and channeled it, tasking him with ever increasing responsibilities as he moved between bridge duty and time spent belowdecks in engineering. It was a trend that continued upon his transfer to the newly commissioned Enterprise-D while he was still a young lieutenant. Under Captain Picard’s command, a junior officer’s education was an ongoing process, with La Forge taking advantage of every opportunity to expand his expertise and gain what would become an unparalleled working knowledge of the ship’s every system. When the time came for Picard to appoint a new chief engineer following his first year commanding the Enterprise, he had without hesitation selected La Forge for the job.
And it’s just been a hell of a ride ever since, hasn’t it?
His mild, passing amusement at the wayward thought was pushed aside as La Forge continued to study the situation table. He had arranged the table’s configurable display so that he now had a bird’s-eye view of every system that would play a part in the upcoming task. All looked normal, or at least as close to normal as he could expect, given the circumstances. According to the information displayed before him.
So, why was he uneasy?
“Is something wrong, Commander?”
Breaking his gaze from the displays, La Forge saw Lieutenant Commander Linn Payne standing at the table’s far end. The assistant chief engineer held an engineering padd in her left hand, and the look on her face told him she must have seen him poring over the situation readouts and his own troubled expression.
“No, Linn.” Pushing himself from the table, he rubbed his temples. “I think I’m just tired. Been a long day.”
The long hours since the Enterprise’s initial encounter with the Zetoq and the time spent overseeing repairs coupled with the new need to help the Nejamri restore power to their vessel was beginning to take its toll. On long days like this, the strain of his ocular implants resulted in headaches. While easily treated, they were still annoying and contributed to his overall fatigue and, ultimately, his mood.
“For what it’s worth,” said Payne, stepping up to the situation table and laying her padd on its surface, “I’ve double-checked all the configurations for the navigational deflector. Everything looks fine.”
La Forge nodded. He had already seen her preliminary report, verifying she had made a comprehensive check of the tasks he had laid out as part of the team’s preparations.
“I know, but whenever we try to figure out a way to marry up normally incompatible technologies, I get a little nervous. We can get a little creative around here, sometimes, and there’s always a risk whenever you try to make a piece of equipment do something it’s not designed to do.”
After discussing the power transfer issue with Taurik and T’Ryssa Chen and—by extension—the Nejamri technicians still trapped in their vessel’s mammoth computer matrix, it quickly became apparent that the logical course of action was to utilize the Enterprise’s primary deflector array. Designed to direct energy at modifiable frequencies, it was the one piece of equipment best suited for transferring power from the starship to the Osijemal. La Forge and Payne had worked together to create a configuration for the deflector’s emitters that would allow it to engage several of the Nejamri ship’s solar collectors. In theory, the effect would be no less stressful than if the massive vessel had moved to within fifty million miles of a primary star, allowing its collectors to absorb the transferred energy and quickly replenish its flagging battery storage farms.
“Okay. Let’s do this,” he said, returning his attention to the situation table.
• • •
“La Forge to away team. Are you ready over there?”
Standing before the workstation console that had served them to this point, Taurik and Dina Elfiki exchanged glances. Giving both the console readouts and her tricorder a final look, she shrugged.
“As ready as we’ll ever be, I guess.”
Standing a few paces away from the console, giving him and Elfiki room to work, Worf nodded at the informal report before tapping his combadge. “We are ready, Commander.”
In truth, there had been little for him or Elfiki to contribute during the preparation phase for the attempt to transfer power from the Enterprise to the Osijemal. Commander La Forge and other engineers oversaw the needed modifications once it was decided the starship’s main deflector would be utilized for the effort. Meanwhile, T’Ryssa Chen reported that Nejamri technicians and other specialists, working as they were able from within the giant ship’s computer system, took on the process of verifying the vessel’s solar collectors could handle being linked to the Enterprise. Taurik’s and Elfiki’s roles had been limited to carrying out whatever instructions or duties asked of them by T’Ryssa, who communicated information from the Nejamri about those tasks requiring physical interaction with equipment or other systems.
Releasing an audible yawn, Elfiki then made a show of stretching her arms high above her head. “I cannot tell you how happy I am to be out of those EV suits. After a while, those things start to smell like feet.”
“Agreed,” said Worf, making no attempt to conceal his relief at also being freed from the suits.
Likewise, Konya chimed in, though his tone was more playful. “Maybe your feet.” The comment earned him a withering glare from Elfiki.
“You’re one to talk,” replied the science officer. “Your quarters smell like a locker room that hasn’t been cleaned since we left Earth.”
Konya smiled. “It’s all part of my rugged masculine charm.”
“I suspect Trys is happy her nose takes after humans.” Elfiki matched his grin with one of her own. “I can’t imagine her putting up with you if she had Vulcan olfactory senses.”
Taurik, studying his tricorder’s status readings while listening to the banter, replied, “The scent of unwashed feet is not an odor I would normally employ for such a comparison. I understand that even with their internal temperature controls, environmental suits can still be so restrictive as to cause perspiration, which naturally is absorbed by our undergarments and the suit’s interior lining. Nevertheless—”
“Joke, Taurik.” Elfiki chuckled. “I was joking.”
Cocking his right eyebrow, the Vulcan replied, “As was I.”
Elfiki laughed again, before landing a playful slap on his arm. “Best straight man on the ship, bar none.” They both went back to their final checks and neither spoke for a few moments before she asked, “What do you suppose it’s like?”
Taurik, engrossed in his review of the workstation displays, turned to regard Elfiki. “I beg your pardon?”
“Inside the computer,” replied the science officer, tapping the console to emphasize her point. “Do you think Trys is okay?”
“Her last report indicated she was suffering no adverse effects to the transposition.” Closing his tricorder, he added, “Though I am concerned about the disorientation she mentioned. We have no comparable experiences by which to judge what she has undergone. There may well be ramifications we are unable to predict.” He had been mindful to pay attention to her during their communications while completing the various preparatory tasks, listening and watching for any signs of strain. Of course, he knew he was watching an artificial representation of her, but if she was suffering from any sort of neurological stress it would likely manifest itself in her speech patterns.
Elfiki patted his arm again. “Yeah, I’m worried about her too.”
“Me three,” added Konya. “I’ll be happy when she’s out of that thing and back here with the rest of us.” He looked to Worf. “Right, Commander?”
“Indeed.” The first officer had remained relatively quiet over the past hour, allowing Taurik and Elfiki to concentrate on assisting with the preparations. With Konya and his security detail remaining on the alert on the off chance there might still be some rogue Torrekmat salvagers wandering around somewhere on the ship, that left Worf alone with his thoughts. While he was not one to show his feelings with regard to such matters, Taurik knew the Klingon was very protective when it came to his fellow crew members. That sense of responsibility, already an intrinsic component of his duties, was only heightened in situations such as this, with an away team separated from the Enterprise and susceptible to possible danger. Worf had not allowed himself to relax since Chen’s disappearance, and even word of her being alive and safe—in a sense, anyway—had done little to ease the obvious worry he was able to hide from everyone.
Almost everyone, Taurik thought.
“All right, everybody,” said La Forge over the communications channel, which remained open throughout the preparation steps. “Let’s do this.”
• • •
Every time T’Ryssa Chen was certain she had become accustomed to her current situation, something happened to remind her that everything around her was artificial. None of it was real, and yet, everything was real.
This time, it was Alehuguet whisking her away from the simulated environment of the control center for the Osijemal’s solar energy collection arrays. There, Chen had watched dozens of Nejamri technicians conducting all manner of inspections on the ark ship’s automated systems. Like everything else she had encountered since being transferred to this place, the room looked, felt, and even smelled real in every detail. Everywhere she looked, her surroundings defied her attempts to find flaws or any indication it was all simulated.
Gone was that control room, replaced by an even larger chamber, stuffed almost to overflowing with computer stations, display monitors, and immense equipment she did not recognize. Chen’s first impression was that of a large power plant, and she quickly realized this must be the Osijemal’s primary energy production facility.
No, it’s a virtual representation of it. Welcome to the grand illusion, remember?
“Just when I think I’ve got a handle on this place, you throw me for another loop.”
Standing next to her, Alehuguet replied, “I apologize, T’Ryssa. I keep forgetting that all of this might be overwhelming to a newcomer.”
As part of her acclimation process, Chen’s movements within the Haven were in line with the limitations of her physical form. That meant walking or making use of ground, water, or air vehicles, which were abundant here. Only Alehuguet and the other Conclave members along with a select group of engineers and other technicians overseeing care of the Osijemal were permitted to move unfettered through the computer matrix, eschewing conventional modes of transportation in favor of near godlike abilities to change locations almost instantly.
