Data stopped and Picard was dimly aware that they stood before a door—exactly where, he couldn’t tell in the dull illumination of the emergency lighting. La Forge dropped to his knees, hands at his throat. Picard felt cold, a cooling prickling sensation over all his skin. His eardrums ached with the pressure within them. He tried to blink to relieve the pressure building in his eyes, but his lids were stuck as if frozen open.
Data’s hand moved to a door panel control. Picard tried to warn him not to open it—that he would only decompress the rest of the corridor beyond. But no words came out. As some part of him, the composed and thoughtful part he had shared with Sarek, fought to deal with the knowledge that he was suffocating and had only seconds of consciousness remaining, Picard finally came to the realization it didn’t matter what Data did. Every door on the ship was under computer control. Whatever had taken over the Enterprise would never allow them to be opened. They were trapped on the shuttlebay. Picard would never draw breath again, and as he faced his death in those final moments, his one overwhelming regret was that he would never know the truth about the Preserver artifact.
His legs gave way as his vision shrank through a well of darkness. He felt as if gravity had been switched off and that he was tumbling down without end. Then a bright light gathered him up in a blinding luminescence. He felt surprise. Could the stories of the moment of death be true?
He felt himself thrust upward into the light. He welcomed it. The adventure would continue after all.
His body spasmed. Safety carpet bristled into the side of his face. He inhaled with one last shudder. Safety carpet?
He tasted air.
Picard’s vision was blurred, his eyes were still stuck open, but as what they gazed upon became evident, he saw enough to understand just where he was, where Data had brought him.
Inside a shuttlecraft.
The light had been the craft’s interior being revealed as its door had opened wide. That same door was now shut tight.
Picard’s lungs heaved as he gasped hungrily for more air and he heard the sounds of life again as the craft was repressurized: La Forge and Wesley breathing deeply, Data’s footsteps on the shuttlecraft deck.
“Please do not be alarmed,” Data’s calm voice announced. “We are on board the Gould and I have disabled all communication with the Enterprise’s computers. We are quite safe. I will now pass out decompression treatment kits. Please use them as you have been instructed.”
Picard resisted the incredible impulse to laugh. Data sounded like a flight steward on the Earth-moon shuttle. La Forge did laugh, though, presumably for the same reason. Wesley still wheezed deeply, hoarsely.
Picard took the small first-aid kit Data handed him, opened it, and instinctively reached for the parabolic cups that would treat the surface of his eyes, damaged by the sudden sublimation of their moisture. That part of his basic Starfleet training he did remember, and within a minute he could see clearly again and was sitting in the pilot’s chair of the shuttle.
Data was beside him. La Forge sat behind them with Wesley. The acting ensign’s throat had been damaged by his understandable attempt to hold his breath in the vacuum. The resulting explosion of air from his lungs would remind him what to do in the next incident of explosive decompression better than any Academy training program.
“Are you able to pick up anything from the Enterprise?” Picard asked as Data scanned the sensor readouts. “Any signs that the rest of the ship has been depressurized?”
“Shuttlebays two and three are also exposed to vacuum,” Data said. “But the rest of the ship appears to be intact. Since life-sign sensors indicate many unconscious bodies in the immediately adjacent pressurized areas, it would appear that whatever is controlling the Enterprise’s computers has flooded the ship with anesthezine gas.”
Picard felt relief at that. He had feared that the entire crew had been exposed to vacuum. But the only harm that had been done was that they would awaken with splitting headaches.
“Are we able to communicate with the bridge?”
Data adjusted some controls without effect. “That does not appear to be possible. All computer-mediated communication capabilities are off-line.”
“Can you tell where we are heading?”
“The shuttlecraft controls display our course, but without contact with the Enterprise’s main navigational library, I do not know what our likely destination might be.” Data glanced at his captain. “However, to anticipate your next question: We are not traveling toward the Romulan Empire.”
“That was my next question,” Picard said. He took a deep breath. His lungs still ached from exposure to vacuum. “Well, there should be environmental suits in the storage lockers on the shuttle, so perhaps we can move along the outside of the hull to a manual airlock and gain entrance to the bridge that way.”
“Would it not be better to transport to the bridge from the shuttlecraft?” Data suggested. “As we are traveling inside the same warp field, we would not experience any spatial disorientation.”
Picard had thought of that possibility, but had ruled it out. “Check the corridors for security forcefields. With anesthezine released, I think you’ll find all are in active mode.”
Data did so. “You are correct, Captain. It would be impossible to beam directly to the bridge through the forcefields now in place in the decks above us.” Then Data paused. “However, since the security forcefields in question are limited to protecting specific doors and corridor pathways, it should be possible for me to maneuver this shuttlecraft to a position beside the bridge, so that we may beam directly through the hull.”
La Forge leaned forward. “Data, are you sure you can keep the shuttlecraft close enough to the Enterprise to remain in her warp field?” he asked. “If we get too far away and slip out of it, the downwarping stress will tear this thing apart.”
“I have already calculated the necessary safety margin, Geordi. We shall be safe within the Enterprise’s warp field. At the same time, we will also be within her navigational and defense shields, so there will be no impediment to the transporter.” Data looked at Picard. “Do you wish me to proceed with the appropriate flight path, Captain?”
“At once,” the captain said.
With a barely detectable thud, the Gould made hard contact with the Enterprise’s hull directly behind the observation lounge. Picard looked out the shuttlecraft’s forward canopy and saw through the observation windows that emergency lights were operating in the lounge. But the doors were closed, so it was impossible to see what condition his bridge was in.
“Deploying magnetic grapple,” Data warned, and two louder thuds echoed in the shuttlecraft. “Switching off interior gravity.” At once the shuttlecraft seemed to move to a gentle slant, matching the angle of the saucer hull she had landed on. “I believe we are now firmly anchored, sir.”
Picard adjusted the life-sign sensors to scan the bridge only meters away on the other side of the lounge. Six unconscious bodies were present. The apparently abnormal readings from one of them indicated the body in question was Worf.
Picard stood up, leaning against the seatback to keep his balance on the angled deck. “Gentlemen, this shuttlecraft will not be safe if whatever’s in control of the Enterprise decides to shake it off, either through violent maneuvers or with a tractor beam. Therefore, we will all beam over to the bridge, taking with us the shuttlecraft’s emergency supplies and setting the transporter here for automatic return, just in case. Any questions?”
“What about the anesthezine gas?” Wesley asked, then coughed.
Picard had already checked the shuttlecraft’s medical locker. Among the hypospray ampules included in it was an anesthezine antagonist. The three of them would be safe from the gas’s effects, and the unconscious crew members could be roused.
Two minutes later, hyposprays in hand, Picard and Data materialized on the bridge. In addition to Worf, the other crew trapped on the bridge when the ship had been taken over were Ri
ker, Dr. Crusher, Ensign McKnight, Counselor Troi, and Miles O’Brien, who was slumped over at the ops station.
Thick white anesthezine mist still floated low to the deck, but other than that, the bridge looked relatively normal. Emergency lighting here maintained normal illumination levels, and all screens and displays showed standard function. At once Picard and Data began using their hyposprays on the unconscious bridge crew. Wesley and the emergency supplies beamed in a few moments later, followed after another short delay by La Forge.
Only after insuring that all life-support functions continued to operate throughout the Enterprise, and confirming that none of the ship’s controls would respond to their input, Data and La Forge began the tedious process of disconnecting nonessential bridge systems from the ship’s computer by physically pulling out isolinear chips from control consoles. By the time bridge environmental systems were under manual control and the anesthezine gas had been vented, Picard had briefed his bridge crew on what he believed had happened—the suspected Preserver object had somehow downloaded an override program into the Enterprise’s computers.
“What would be the purpose of such a program?” Worf growled. He was barely containing his angry frustration at the fact that none of his tactical or security controls were operational.
“Ensign McKnight,” Picard said, “can you identify any likely destinations for us on this heading?”
The young ensign was back at the conn beside Mr. O’Brien. She called up a navigational display. Because the request did not interfere with the Enterprise’s operation, it was not affected by the override program. McKnight put a computer graphic of their destination on the main screen.
“Our present heading will take us directly to this, Captain,” the ensign explained.
On the screen, Picard recognized the classic glowing gas disk and twin ionized polar jets of a singularity.
“It’s listed as the Kabreigny Object,” McKnight continued. “Also on the charts as T’Lin’s New Catalog number 65813. I, uh, can’t pull up anything on it from the library computer, but if this black hole’s got a name as well as a number, it’s been studied.”
“What is our estimated time of arrival?”
McKnight checked her board. “We’re doing warp nine point six, sir. That’ll put us there in just under six hours.”
Riker approached the screen, holding the side of his head. “Why would a three-and-a-half-billion-year-old Preserver device want to take us to a black hole?”
Data, on the upper level of the bridge with Worf, said, “Perhaps we should ask it, sir,” Data said.
Riker looked at him, bewildered, one eye fluttering with the pain of what Picard recognized as an anesthezine hangover. “I beg your pardon?” Riker said.
“As I noted in the shuttlebay, the Preserver object appears to have downloaded not just a program, but a personality matrix. Since the Enterprise has been taken over in a precise and logical manner, without pushing her systems beyond their limits, I believe it is likely that the personality matrix will share enough common thought patterns that we might be able to converse with it in a meaningful way.”
Dr. Crusher sat on the bench beside Counselor Troi to the captain’s left. “You mean, you could just talk to it as if it were the ship’s computer?” she asked.
“It is a possibility,” Data said noncommittally.
Picard glanced up from his position in the center chair. “Computer: What is our heading?”
In its familiar feminine voice, the computer answered, “Food replication services are temporarily suspended. Please rekey selection.”
From his position in the center of the bridge, Riker spoke. “Computer: Identify command override authorization preventing bridge crew from controlling the Enterprise.”
“Rook to king’s level four,” the computer replied. “ Touchdown.”
Without a hint of embarrassment, Data commented, “It would appear the computer’s verbal interface functions have not yet been fully integrated by the personality matrix.”
Riker smiled ruefully. “Any other suggestions?”
“It might be possible for me to interface directly with the computer, processor to processor,” Data said.
“No way,” La Forge protested. He was on his back, head jammed into a service opening beneath the first science station. Wesley worked with him, keying in commands on the input panel. But La Forge sat up as he continued his objection to Data’s plan. “If the personality matrix or override program or whatever it is could take over the ship’s computer, it could easily do the same to you, Data.”
“It is possible to make the connection one-way, Geordi. In effect, write-protecting my memory so that no new program can be input.”
Picard didn’t like the idea of risking Data’s life, or his operational status, but neither was he prepared to sit back while his ship operated under something else’s control. “What would you hope to accomplish from a one-way connection?” he asked the android.
“At the very least,” Data replied, “I might be able to identify the source of the personality matrix. Romulan programming techniques are quite recognizable.”
Troi looked surprised. “Data, do you still think this all could be part of some Romulan deception?”
“That does not seem unlikely, Counselor. A three-and-a-half-billion-year-old Preserver object would have few motives for taking over a starship,” Data replied.
“But what motive would the Romulans have?” Dr. Crusher asked.
“That is what I would hope to find out,” Data answered. “Likely it is connected to the singularity we are approaching. But how, I do not know.”
Picard gave permission for Data to attempt the linkup with whatever controlled the ship’s computer, provided the android could convince La Forge that the interface would indeed be one-way. Life-sign indicators continued to show that the rest of the crew was incapacitated throughout the ship, and that all doors were locked and security forcefields in operation. However, the Enterprise maintained her speed at warp nine point six, a strain, but within her operational limits, at least for the length of time it would take to arrive at the black hole. For the moment, it was only frustration that drove Picard, not danger. But all that might change soon.
Eventually, La Forge was convinced that Data had taken sufficient safeguards to protect his own memory pathways. The android sat at a science station on the upper level, ringed by La Forge, Picard, and Riker. Troi, Worf, Dr. Crusher, and her son remained off to the side. McKnight and O’Brien held their stations at their command consoles, in case control of the ship should return unexpectedly.
Outwardly, there was no change in Data. During normal operations, he had the capability to communicate directly with the ship’s computer through short-range radio. He would do so now, though the communications loop would consist of Data’s transmitting to the computer by internal radio, then watching for any response through visual images displayed on the main science-station screen. With no physical or radio connection between them, the risk of Data’s being exposed to the personality matrix was zero.
La Forge adjusted the science-station display to show a visual representation of a specific area of memory within one of the Enterprise’s three main computer cores. For now, the image was a rapidly shifting random flurry of light and dark pixels, each corresponding to a specific memory location in a communications processing node. Data would transmit to that section and see what response, if any, was forthcoming. If there was no response, he was prepared to isolate warp-drive operations from the rest of the computer, then transmit a shutdown code to the entire system, effectively erasing the personality matrix.
“I will begin now,” Data announced. He cocked his head and his eyes seemed to focus on something past the display screen.
The screen immediately flashed to nonrandom patterns. Picard saw dark diagonal bars roll down through alternating squares of light and dark. Clearly a directed signal was being received by the computer—Data’s transmission.
“Curious,” Data said. “The patterns being displayed are simply my signal. There is no response from the computer, as if the personality matrix is no longer present.”
“Ensign McKnight,” Picard called out. “Drop to sublight.”
The sound of the engines didn’t change.
“The helm will not respond,” McKnight said.
“It was worth a try,” Troi told the captain.
“I will attempt to make contact again,” Data said.
An intricate pattern of curved lines flashed over the screen, creating a strobelike image of white circles flashing in a spiraling curve.
“That is interesting,” Data said as he gazed at the screen. “Something is generating a recursive feedback loop.”
La Forge looked at Data with alarm, but Picard did not know why. “Data, slow down your visual-recognition subroutines. Don’t let that feedback … Data?”
Data was frozen in position, staring at the screen, the light from its rapid flickerings painting his yellow skin.
“No!” La Forge shouted as he placed both hands over the display, blocking the pattern. “Pull him away!”
Riker slapped both hands on Data’s shoulders to haul him back from the screen. Picard moved in to help. But Data’s right arm came back like lightning, his elbow driving into Riker’s leg. Picard heard a wet crunch and Riker cried out in sudden pain, falling back into Worf. At the same time, Data’s left hand grabbed both of La Forge’s, crushed them together, then twisted so that the engineer was thrown to the side.
The remaining crew members could only watch as the science-station display screen went dark and Data turned away and slowly got to his feet.
Methodically he scanned the surrounding area, fixing his gaze on each crew member in turn. Then he looked down at his own hands, turning them over, flexing them, as if he had never seen them before.
Even before Data spoke, Picard knew what had happened. Somehow the personality matrix in the computer had generated a visual signal which had compelled Data to adjust his settings and allow two-way communication, permitting the matrix to download itself into the android’s positronic neural pathways. Data was now under the same control as was the Enterprise. But by what kind of matrix? And for what purpose?
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