Blackout

by Phaedra M. Weldon

  “I know you will. Keep at it.” Gold lifted his chin. “Stevens, you and Blue come up with any more power scenarios?”

  “Not on the whys, sir. We’ve scraped together a little over fifty or so portable fusion generators. They’ll help get the city’s basics back online for us to work with. I think we’ll do better once we can actually take a look at the situation. Get a hands-on reading.”

  Bart allowed himself to become immersed in the message. He closed his eyes, allowing his fingers to move over the station’s controls on their own as he listened to each word, broke it down, and reinvented it.

  Words. He loved words. He loved sounds, their shape and form in his mind. Communication was a subjective science and one that depended on as well as interwove with a culture’s beliefs. Their spiritual doctrines.

  And their military might.

  This message had the sound of being military-based. Sparse. Staccato. Powerful.

  This was a people who were confident in their control of the situation. Whatever that may have been.

  Bart checked the information Carol had given him. The newest site, the one where Corlis believed the blackout originated, was the oldest of the discoveries. He displayed images of symbols, the language written, on several of his monitors, quickly identifying sounds with representations.

  Speaking a language and seeing its symbols written were two different experiences, and Bart could only have imagined what linguists who worked on the ancient pyramids at Giza had thought after so many years of seeing the language of the ancient Egyptians when it was actually spoken.

  The translator beeped at him, and Bart scanned the computer’s interpretation of the message. He did a double take as he checked the computer’s findings. “What the—”

  “Found something?” Gold rotated his command chair to face the linguist.

  Bart glanced up at Gold. “I’ve got a tentative translation. And I mean tentative. I’d have to check the computer’s findings against my own knowledge, but…” He paused. “The tone of the message—the way the language is spoken—it doesn’t make any sense when considering what I think the words mean.”

  “Oh? What does it say?”

  Bart had the whole of the bridge crew’s attention; though many remained focused on their stations, everyone was listening.

  He took a deep breath. “‘Do not to your neighbor what is hateful to yourself.’”

  No one spoke.

  Then Gold sat forward, his expression as incredulous as Bart’s own. “Faulwell—that’s impossible. That’s a famous maxim by Hillel.”

  Bart nodded his head slowly. “I know, Captain.”

  “And that’s all it says?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What about the rest?” Gold asked.

  “Rest?” Carol said. “There’s more?”

  “The quote goes on to say, ‘the rest is commentary; go learn it.’”

  Bart knew the famous maxim. Knew that finding the exact same passage on a world thousands of light-years from Earth was implausible. But here it was.

  “Wong,” Gold said to the helm. “Let’s see if we can get this ship to Asario a little faster.”

  The flummoxed linguist looked down at the computer’s translation. Go learn it, indeed. Apparently, we’re on our way to do just that.

  Chapter

  4

  The Asarion system nearly paralleled the Terran system in its size and structure. Eight planets orbited a single sun. Asario was the fifth planet. Rich blues and fluffy whites decorated the shimmering sphere.

  From orbit, Pattie scanned the surface and found several more city ruins, evidence of the planet’s former inhabitants. These sites were all aboveground, where Corlis said the present active excavation was being carried out.

  The U.S.S. da Vinci passed the terminator into night, less than twenty hours since the Asarion distress call.

  No lights glittered from the surface, evidence of the planet’s troubles.

  After a brief communication with the orbiting Mercury, Gold gathered the away team and established an unstable link with Corlis. The image wavered and blurred at regular intervals, but Bart was sure he saw red hair and bright, bright green eyes.

  Chief Engineer Nancy Conlon and Transporter Chief Poynter assured Gold and Gomez that the transporters weren’t affected by whatever it was that was now keeping the planet on low-level power. With a final reassurance, Poynter beamed down Gomez, Tev, Pattie, Soloman, Corsi, Carol, Fabian, Vinx, and Bart.

  The room they found themselves in was circular and shadowed from small octagonal lanterns placed along the floor and on tables against the wall. Couches of muted dark colors lined the walls. It looked like a reception area.

  Bart wished he could see the colors and textures of the walls around him, but the light wasn’t bright enough.

  Corlis met the group first, flanked by two other females. She was of medium height and slightly built. Her fiery red hair was back in what Bart would call a severe bun. The way it pulled at her face reminded him of Ms. Hutchins in primary school. Bart had always assumed the woman had pulled her hair tight just to smooth away the wrinkles.

  It hadn’t helped.

  Gomez took care of the introductions, referring to herself only as the leader of the away team and not as an engineer in her own right. However, Bart noted only a slight hesitation in Corlis’s demeanor at the mention of Bart’s position as linguist and Corsi’s as security chief. He could almost see the woman readjusting her own paradigm to fit the situation.

  Good. Adaptable. But I guess they have to be, seeing as how half of her life was spent as a man.

  “It’s wonderful to have you here, Dr. Faulwell. We’re in desperate need of your expertise.” She shifted her attention to Gomez. “We’ve been able to move shuttles on low power at extremely slow speeds. I’ve arranged for one of these to take you immediately to the excavation site.”

  “We’ll do our best, ma’am,” Gomez said. “Maybe it would be better if we transported them there.”

  “We’ve already tried. It’s impossible to get a lock on the site perimeter from here.” Corlis sighed before continuing. “I’ll apologize for the duration of the trip in advance. Our own cryptographer is still at the site. Jewlan Omi. I’d like for you to meet with her and learn her exact movements in the last two days. Find out exactly what it was she did.”

  Something in Corlis’s tone alarmed Bart. “Ma’am—Corlis—we’re here to lend a hand with deciphering text and symbols at the site. You want us to investigate her actions? You believe your cryptographer was the one that triggered the blackout?”

  The Asarion leader gave Bart a half smirk. “Who else.”

  It wasn’t a question. Bart wasn’t sure how to respond to it either. Apparently there was a sardonic side to the Asarion leader. And obviously Jewlan Omi brought it out of her.

  Corlis waved her hand in front of her. “Never mind. Please forgive me. I’m afraid my Alpha State is near and I’m usually cranky the week prior. Just be cautious. Jewlan’s accident ratio is higher than most. I’ve made sure to leave a supervisor there to monitor her work.”

  She turned to one of the other females and retrieved two palm devices much like Bart’s padd. She handed one to Bart and one to Carol. “This contains all the information we have on the site, as well as anything we’ve noticed or monitored since the blackout.”

  “You’re still sure the reason for the power decrease originates at the site?” Soloman said as he turned to Gomez. “Perhaps we should accompany them to the site. It is always better to solve the problem, not treat the symptom.”

  But Gomez shook her head. “Right now, getting partial power up and running in key areas is primary. Let’s get that done and diagnose what kind of effect this is having on the fusion reactor itself. It might give us clues as to what to look for at the site.”

  Soloman nodded.

  “You are a Bynar, are you not? Is it true your species matches up in gender-opposite pairs?” Corlis
’s eyes had widened and she reminded Bart of a small child investigating a bug.

  “And you are an Asarion. Is it also true that you will soon inhabit a male body?”

  Bart smiled. Soloman had been developing quite a dry wit lately.

  Corlis narrowed her eyes at Soloman. “I like you.” With a sigh she looked at Pattie. “Now you’re something I’ve never met before.”

  “And you’ll never meet a better one,” the Nasat piped up. She leaned forward on her many legs and offered her two front pincers in the Asarion greeting. To Corlis’s credit, the leader didn’t miss a beat and returned the gesture in kind.

  “We should really get started,” Bart said, somehow sensing a long, witty banter was about to commence. “Could we get to the site?”

  The Asarion leader smiled. “Of course. Please, follow Myaa,” and she nodded to the smaller of the two women.

  Myaa had yellow hair and wore a look of curiosity as she stepped forward. “Please, follow me.”

  The shuttle was comfortable with soft couches, side desks, and footrests. Carol found an Asarion counterpart to a Starfleet replicator when she commented about wanting water. A purple light appeared in a small alcove to her right and a clear glass of water materialized. Bart wanted something a little stronger and found a button that projected a holographic menu. He checked several of the selections against his sparse knowledge of the Asarion language and ordered what he thought was coffee and sat down to read.

  There wasn’t much more in the notes than he’d already seen, save for sidebars on the four discovered chambers. There had also been a fifth chamber, which had puzzled the author, a Doren Hazar, in its differences in comparison to the first four chambers.

  After half an hour, Bart finally remembered the coffee sitting on the shelf beside him and tasted it. The flavor was interesting—somewhere between licorice and peppermint. It numbed the back of his tongue but he took several more sips before setting the cup down.

  The numbness spread to the back of his neck and down his throat as the coffee settled into his stomach. Abruptly the numbness became a smoldering heat. He felt flushed and set the Asarion device on the seat beside him. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with the index finger and thumb of his right hand.

  Uh…oh. I’m not feeling so good anymore. He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

  “Bart?”

  Keeping his eyes closed, he answered Carol. “Headache. I think maybe I’m…dehydrated.”

  He heard her moving over the cushions, and felt her cool hand on his forehead. “Dehydrated? You’re very warm. Can you…Bart…Bart? Can you hear me…?”

  “…advisable to give him that sort of thing? We may resemble each other on the outside, but human and Asarion physiologies are very different.”

  “I agree. I’ve studied some human biology. Which is why I believe the stimulant was worth the risk. He could have been unconscious much longer.”

  “I think we should have called for Dr. Lense.”

  Bart winced at the bright light behind his eyelids. Why was Carol arguing about stimulants? And who was she arguing with?

  And why does my head hurt so bad?

  “He’s waking.”

  That was a new voice. Bart cautiously opened his right eye—to test the waters. Something moved in front of him, blocking out the light; he could make out shoulders, and a vaguely outlined face.

  “C-Carol?” his voice was thick, and his enunciation slurred. Damn…I sound drunk.

  “She’s over there,” said the new voice and Bart realized the person leaning over him and pulling his eyelids open wasn’t Carol. The light around the silhouette was still too bright and he batted at this person’s hands, commanding with his feeble whacking for them to cease and desist.

  “Bart, can you hear me?”

  Okay, now that was Carol.

  “Yeah…” Bart said in a low voice. “Just stop yelling.”

  “I’m not yelling. Can you sit up?”

  I wasn’t aware that I wasn’t.

  He felt hands grab at his arms and shoulders and gently pull him into a seated position. As soon as he was perpendicular, he wished he wasn’t. The pounding in his head only increased in volume and intensity and he pressed both palms of his hands into his eyes. “Did anyone…get the name of the shuttle driver that hit me?”

  “No shuttle, Bart,” Corsi’s less than sympathetic voice broke in. In fact, she actually sounded amused. Ah, the new and improved Domenica Corsi. “It was something you drank.”

  Drank. Bart tried to remember what he’d drunk in the past forty-eight hours. He managed to open both eyes and found four women staring at him. He focused on the smaller of the unfamiliar women, as her face was in the middle. “I drank coffee.”

  “No,” Carol shook her head. She was to his right, beside the smaller woman. “You drank,” she held up her hands and wiggled the index finger and middle finger of both hands in quotation marks, “spirit water.”

  “Spirit?” Bart tried to look at Carol, but his attention continually moved back to the bright eyes in front of him. This woman was an Asarion. “As in disembodied ghost?”

  “No.” Corsi sighed. “As in firewater. As in cocktail, brew, hooch.”

  Bart squinted at the tall, statuesque security chief. “You mean as in alcohol?”

  “More like the equivalent of pure grain alcohol,” Carol said. “You went down like a house of cards.”

  The Asarion woman turned a curious expression to Carol. “What an interesting analogy. May I borrow it?”

  Carol smiled. Shaking her head she said, “Jewlan, it’s not mine. I don’t own the phrase. It’s just a common metaphor where I come from.”

  Jewlan Omi. Ah. Bart nodded inwardly—doing so outwardly could cause great pain. He offered the young woman his hand. “Bartholomew Faulwell, cryptographer and linguist.” He managed a lopsided grin. “And sometime drunk, obviously.”

  Jewlan took his hand in hers, then took his other one and molded them into the same greeting Corlis had used with Vinx. “Greetings and well met, Bartholomew Faulwell.”

  “Bart.” Ouch. “Just call me Bart.” He looked at their surroundings. “I take it we’re here.” He winced.

  “You’ll be fine until the stimulant wears off,” the other woman said. She wasn’t as young or as attractive as Jewlan. In fact, she had a pinched look over her nose, as if she smelled something bad. All the time. “My name is Riz Shedd. I’m the supervisor of this excavation.”

  Jewlan rose and moved away. Bart was a bit taken by her sometimes fluid, then jerky movements, as if her body were very much two different types. She appeared to be his height (that is, if he dared to stand at the moment), and her hair was dark, cut much shorter than Carol’s, and stuck out and up at the crown. Her face was delicate with high cheekbones framing those bright Asarion eyes. Her skin was as smooth and nearly poreless as carved marble, which was something he noticed about Corlis as well. Another Asarion difference.

  Riz looked just like her name sounded. Rigid.

  Jewlan caught Bart’s expression and smiled. He tried to return the gesture, thinking somehow she knew what he’d been thinking about her coworker.

  Ow. Even moving facial muscles hurt a little. Now he remembered all the reasons he’d stuck to synthehol. Carol was also being oddly nice.

  Bart waved at Carol. “How long?”

  “How long what?”

  “Have I been unconscious?”

  “You were passed out,” Corsi said, a slight pull at the corner of her mouth.

  Oh, great. She’s enjoying this, and once Fabian gets wind of it, there’ll be no end to the drunk jokes.

  “You snore.”

  Bart pointed at Corsi. “That’s enough. According to Fabe, you’re not exactly a peaceful sleeper.”

  Corsi’s smirk vanished. Bart knew he’d hit a nerve, and with “Core-Breach,” that wasn’t exactly a smart thing to do. The security chief was also several centimeters taller t
han he, and perhaps antagonizing her wasn’t such a bold move. And it certainly wasn’t something he’d have done normally.

  Must be the effects of that coffee. Or whatever the hell it was I drank.

  “Is the stimulant working?” Carol said, moving to stand beside Riz.

  “Yeah. I’m awake.” He looked around. “And we’re still in the shuttle.”

  Jewlan nodded. “We thought it was better you stay here. You’re going to be a bit off balance for a day or so.”

  “You mean I’m going to fall down a lot?”

  “Noooo…” She frowned. “You’re not going to be yourself. Riz gave you a stimulant to combat the effects of Poplin. It’s really more of an aphrodisiac to my people than a beverage consumed to get drunk.”

  “Aphrodisiac?” Corsi let a snicker escape her. “Bart took an aphrodisiac? Of all the things you could order on that replicator menu, you chose a sexual stimulant?”

  “I’m sure Jewlan means they drink it much like we drink wine or beer in order to loosen up, so to speak.” Carol glared at Corsi before looking back to Jewlan. “To get in the mood. I wonder…” She looked at Bart. “You think I should take some of that stuff back with me so Vance and I can try it? Maybe lose ourselves in our lack of inhibitions?”

  “No.” Bart shook his head. “If you remember, the only thing I lost was consciousness.” And though Bart really wasn’t interested in what went on behind closed doors between Carol and Vance Hawkins, he was sure the two would not want to share the ultimate hangover banging about in his head.

  Though taking a bit of the drink home to Fabian for those nights the tactical specialist decided to practice Tellarite might give Bart an easier night’s sleep. Slip a little into his raktajino?

  “Good point.” Carol put her hands together.

  “To be honest, Dr. Faulwell,” Riz said, clasping her hands in front of her, “if you’d ingested the real Poplin, and not the synthesized version, it would have stopped your heart.”

  Carol blinked. “Well. That’s nice.” She looked down at Bart. “Are you ready to get started? Jewlan and Riz are ready to give us a tour of what’s been found and where the problem is.”