by Dayton Ward
Though he started to move, he caught himself upon realizing that he was not alone on the sofa. Curled up beneath a blanket, feet resting on Picard’s lap and the top of his head just visible as it rested against the opposite armrest, was his son. René Jacques Robert Francois Picard was deep in the sort of slumber that only small children seemed able to manage. Listening for a moment, Picard heard the boy’s soft snoring. He smiled before looking down at the padd in his lap.
“Of course,” he said in a low voice. “Now I remember.”
According to René’s mother, the precocious four-year-old had been missing his father’s presence earlier in the evening, owing to Picard’s wanting to be close at hand while the investigation continued for the missing planet and the away team. The whereabouts and condition of Commander Worf and the others weighed heavily on him, to the point that he realized he was beginning to worry the rest of his crew with his constant stalking of the bridge. He had retreated to his ready room, content to let Commander La Forge and Lieutenant Elfiki continue their work without his constant if well-meaning requests for updates, but so consumed was he by the current situation that he had all but forgotten the time until Beverly contacted him. Only then did Picard realize that he had missed the story time he regularly shared with René each night before the boy went to bed. It was not the first time, but it was the second night in a row for this oversight. With that in mind, and after leaving things in the capable hands of Lieutenant Commander Havers and the beta shift crew, Picard returned to his quarters with plans to spend a brief respite with René before resuming his vigil on the bridge.
As for the book, though René was capable of reading it himself, he still loved the sound of his father’s voice when reciting it aloud. Picard glanced at the padd and the book’s text as displayed on its screen cover. The story involved the exploits of a group of exceptional children representing different planets, living and working at a special academy that had been constructed on an asteroid, where they encountered all manner of excitement and danger. According to the Enterprise’s daycare facility supervisor, Hailan Casmir, René had been fascinated by the stories, and Picard had since learned that several adventures with the characters were available for viewing as holographic adaptations. Searching his memory, Picard was certain he recalled a promise to his son for them to conduct “an away mission” to the holodeck for further investigation.
Looking across the room to the desk, Picard was unable to make out the chronometer displayed on the computer screen. “Computer, what time is it?”
In its usual feminine voice that still sounded loud enough to rouse the dead, the Enterprise’s main computer replied, “Current ship’s time is zero one twenty-seven hours.”
Picard eyed René, but the boy seemed undisturbed, and he could not help smiling. He felt a momentary pang of envy at his son’s ability to sleep through almost anything. It had been quite some time since Picard himself had managed so well. In fact, the longer he sat here, the more guilt he felt that he had dozed at all.
“You’re not going back to the bridge, are you?”
Turning toward the sound of the voice, Picard saw Beverly Crusher standing in the doorway leading to their bedroom. She wore an off-white silk sleeping gown and a matching robe, and her long red hair was pulled back into a ponytail. The heaviness of her eyelids was the only telltale sign that she had just awakened.
“I will be shortly, yes.”
“You need your rest, Captain,” she said, adopting her best chief medical officer’s tone as she stepped farther into the main room. “Commander Lynley can handle things for a couple of hours.”
Picard sat up straighter on the sofa. “Commander Lynley?” Only then did he realize that he had moved René’s legs. For his part, the boy did not seem to care. Then Picard nodded in comprehension. “Yes. Gamma shift is on duty now.” He had been asleep for nearly four hours, far longer than he had anticipated. “I need to check in.” He started to move from the sofa, but Beverly held up a hand.
“Commander Lynley would’ve called if there was anything to report, Jean-Luc.”
With a small sigh of exasperation, Picard replied, “Beverly, I have people who are missing. I can’t just sit here.”
Beverly crossed her arms. “And what exactly can you do that your crew can’t?”
Rather than fight, Picard allowed a small chuckle. “Nothing, but there’s more to it than that. You’re a certified bridge officer, Beverly. You know how this works.” Now fully awake, he eased René’s legs from his lap and rose from the sofa. He had removed his uniform jacket, opened his tunic’s high collar, and rolled up his sleeves, and he was in the process of putting everything back into its proper place when the intraship chose that moment to beep.
“Bridge to Captain Picard,” said Commander Aiden Lynley.
Shaking her head, Beverly moved to the sofa. “Saved by the bell.” She added her own smile to the end of her comment, and Picard understood the remark had been meant as gentle teasing.
“Picard here,” he said. “Go ahead, Mister Lynley.”
“Sorry to bother you, Captain, but you asked to be notified if we had anything new to report.”
“You have something?” Picard moved to the table in the corner of the room’s dining area, where he had hung his uniform jacket across one of the chairs.
The gamma shift watch officer replied, “Commander La Forge and Lieutenant Elfiki have been continuing their research of the buoy’s communications signal, sir. They’re starting to put together a plan and would like to brief you.”
Casting a glance toward Beverly, Picard said, “I’m on my way, Commander. Picard out.” Before he could offer any further comment to his wife, she held up her hand.
“I know, Jean-Luc. Believe me. I’m worried about them, too, but I’m also worried that you and the others aren’t getting enough rest.” Then the doctor’s tone returned. “I’d hate to start pulling rank around here.”
Picard nodded, accepting the gentle advisory in the spirit with which he knew it was intended. “Acknowledged and understood. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
• • •
Stepping onto the bridge, Picard was surprised to see not only Commander La Forge and Lieutenant Elfiki, but also Glinn Ravel Dygan standing at the rear workstations. The Cardassian exchange officer’s dark, bulky uniform stood in stark contrast to the rest of the bridge crew’s regulation Starfleet attire.
“Good morning, sir,” said Commander Aiden Lynley as he rose from the command chair. “I hope you were able to get some rest.”
Picard cocked his eyebrow. “Have you been consorting with the ship’s chief medical officer to ensure this old captain gets his beauty sleep?”
“No, sir,” replied the commander, smiling at the question and Picard’s knowing look. “I’m really not that brave.”
“But you’d do it if she asked you?”
Lynley’s grin widened. “Probably. As I said, sir, I’m really not that brave.”
“That makes two of us. As you were, Commander.”
Joining the trio of officers waiting for him at the engineering station, Picard asked by way of greeting, “Have you been working here all this time?”
La Forge shook his head. “No, sir. We took a break a couple of hours ago, and our plan was to reconvene later this morning.”
Gesturing to Dygan, Elfiki added, “This is all his fault, sir.”
The stoic Cardassian’s eyes widened and he turned to Picard. “I apologize, Captain. I meant no disrespect or offense.”
“I’m kidding, Ravel,” said Elfiki. Realizing she now had become the object of scrutiny from Dygan as well as Picard and La Forge, the young science officer indicated the engineering console with a wave. “Why don’t you explain what’s got us all up here in the middle of the night.”
Dygan moved closer to the workstation. “Yes, well, first I m
ust say that I am aware that this is outside the scope of my normal responsibilities, but I confess that I have been most curious about the sensor readings we have received, both from the planet we seek as well as the buoy we later found. To that end, and because I was having difficulty sleeping, I took it upon myself to begin studying the sensor data we have collected to this point, in an attempt to discern a pattern that would allow us to predict when or if the planet might return.” He tapped a series of controls on the console. “While examining our readings of the buoy’s communications signal, I found evidence of an alteration with that signal’s frequency and strength that immediately preceded the most recent dimensional shift.”
The image on the workstation showed a computer-generated representation of the signal transmission, and Picard observed the minor spike with a time code noting the point at which the planet had disappeared. There were no other such variations in the data stream.
“We only have the one example,” he said, “but you’re sure of your findings?”
Dygan nodded. “Absolutely, sir. If and when the planet reappears, we should be able to record a similar deviation in the signal, and perhaps at that point a pattern will begin to emerge that will allow us to predict the frequency of such events.”
“Until or unless the planet comes back, it’s still a theory,” said La Forge, “but it’s one I like.”
Elfiki nodded. “Me too.”
“Indeed.” Eyeing the Cardassian, Picard said, “You did this during your off-duty hours, Glinn Dygan?”
“Yes, sir. Once I began researching the data, I became . . . enamored with the process. After I arrived at a preliminary hypothesis, I contacted Lieutenant Elfiki for corroboration, who in turn notified Commander La Forge.”
The chief engineer added, “And I’m the one who told Commander Lynley to wake you up, sir.”
“I appreciate your initiative and willingness to assist, Glinn Dygan,” said Picard, making a mental note to add an appropriate citation in the officer’s service record and the next report he would file for Starfleet Command regarding the exchange program.
Dygan had been with the Enterprise for nearly four years, and what had begun as a temporary experiment had turned into a long-term assignment following Cardassia’s signing of the Khitomer Accords. There had been some concern about his posting to the starship in the immediate wake of President Nanietta Bacco’s assassination and the early implication of Cardassia as the responsible party, but Dygan’s performance and commitment to his assignment had never wavered, and even when Picard and the Enterprise had been given their orders for a long-duration exploration of the Odyssean Pass, the young Cardassian had with great enthusiasm volunteered to extend his tour aboard the ship. Starfleet as well as both the Cardassian and Federation governments saw the potential such an opportunity presented, and with Picard’s endorsement approved the request. In the time he had been with the ship, Ravel Dygan had distinguished himself while serving as one of the Enterprise’s operations managers, overseeing all of the ship’s systems and keeping the captain informed as to their status. Officers in that role often possessed engineering or science backgrounds, supplementing those departments as appropriate to a given situation. Dygan had immersed himself in those responsibilities from the outset, undertaking several courses of study as well as training across multiple areas of ship operations. The reports from his department head and other supervising officers had all been glowing, and Picard had even discussed with the Cardassian the idea of joining Starfleet, so that both parties might continue to benefit from his presence on a permanent basis.
“There’s more,” said Elfiki. “Once Ravel showed us what he’d been up to, the three of us started tossing ideas around. We think with some reconfigurations to our communications array, we might be able to tap into the buoy’s signal.”
Picard frowned. “Even though the buoy itself would appear locked within a state of transdimensional phase?”
“We didn’t say it’d be easy,” replied La Forge, “and to be honest, we’re not entirely certain it’ll even work. But, if we could access that stream, we might be able to contact whatever’s on the other end of that signal. The logical target is the planet.”
“And the away team,” added Elfiki. “If we can find a way to piggyback onto that signal, there’s a chance we can send our own transmission through to the other side; one our people can receive with their communicators.”
Dygan said, “And let us not forget the people already on the planet. If they were in distress, we may be able to render assistance. However, I suspect that any degree of long-term assistance will require us to have a better understanding of the planet’s movements between dimensions.”
“Maybe the buoy’s signal is even part of the process,” replied Elfiki. “If we could figure that out, maybe there’s a way to alter that signal and . . . I don’t know . . . force a shift?” Even as she spoke the words, she shook her head. “No, scratch that, at least for now. We have no idea what effect that might have on the planet or anyone on it.”
“No,” said La Forge. “Don’t scratch it. Let’s just move carefully on it until we get more information. For now, our priority should be establishing communications with anybody on the planet.” He sighed. “With luck, Taurik’s getting a chance to investigate the equipment or whatever it is that’s causing the shifts in the first place.” He paused, his gaze dropping to the deck for a moment before he added, “We know they landed without too much trouble. Here’s hoping the locals are looking after them. After all, they did warn us to stay away for our own safety.”
Picard nodded. The tone of the message received from the planet’s surface—to him, at least—seemed to have been one of concern, rather than malevolence. His gut told him that the people on the planet were somehow victims caught up in whatever consequences had befallen their activities there. He hoped there would be an opportunity to learn the complete circumstances surrounding the planet, as well as to help those who might be in trouble.
“Geordi, take whatever steps you feel are necessary and prudent to establish a connection with the buoy’s signal. Glinn Dygan, continue your research and attempt to find some pattern we can use to predict the planet’s reappearance.”
“Aye, sir,” replied the chief engineer. “We’ll get right on it.”
Eyeing the three officers, Picard asked, “All this, because you couldn’t sleep?”
La Forge shrugged. “We do some of our best work when we’re not sleeping.”
13
ELSEWHERE
Ushalon
The alarm, a series of four electronic tones repeated in rapid succession, filled the passageways and echoed off the metal bulkheads. All around the observation room, T’Ryssa Chen watched as the Sidrac engineers and scientists, eight of them in total, moved to different workstations around the large chamber.
“Another shift is imminent,” said Nelidar as she led the away team into the room, gesturing for them to remain in a corner away from the consoles or other equipment that her people might need.
“If this transposition is like all of the others,” she continued, “then there should be no problems.”
Standing at the rear of the group, Kirsten Cruzen replied in a voice only Chen could hear, “There’s always a first time.”
Chen stepped to her left, the movement enough to give her an unfettered view of the observation room and its Sidrac staff. There was an obvious purpose to their movements, but Chen saw that everyone seemed to conduct themselves as though their motions were well-practiced and carried out almost without conscious thought.
That makes sense. How many times have they gone through this?
“The quantum energy readings are spiking,” reported Taurik from where he stood next to Worf at the head of the group, holding his tricorder in his left hand. “These levels are very similar to what we recorded soon after our landing.” The engi
neer had taken the initiative of tying his tricorder to the Spinrad’s onboard computer, allowing him remote access to all of the shuttlecraft’s systems. This included the ability to configure and employ the compact vessel’s sensor array.
“Energy levels are approaching target levels,” reported one of the Sidrac engineers, a male whom Nelidar had identified as Livak.
Another scientist, a female named Pevon, called out, “All systems optimal.”
Cruzen asked, “That’s good, right?”
It was bizarre, Chen decided, to stand and watch the Sidrac team go about their tasks, knowing that they were in reality observers with no influence over what was happening around them. They, along with the away team, could only watch and wait to see how the process played out. What if the field generator experienced a malfunction while in the midst of carrying out the shift?
Let’s not dwell on that too much.
“Field generator at maximum output,” said Livak, just before a large orange indicator set into the wall at the front of the room began to flash.
Nelidar turned to the away team. “This is it.”
“Does anyone feel sick?” asked Chen. “Disorientation, nausea, anything?” Instead of the sensory overload she had endured during the previous shift, now she felt only mild discomfort. There seemed to be no issues with her vision or hearing this time, and neither was she sweating or out of breath.
“Nothing like last time,” replied Cruzen.
Taurik said, “I am feeling no ill effects. My tricorder is detecting a new energy signature, emanating from within this structure. It appears to act as something of a damping field, perhaps reducing the severity of adverse reactions to the quantum shift.”