Architects of Infinity

by Kirsten Beyer

  “What I’m feeling about this place isn’t post-traumatic stress, Doctor Glenn,” Farkas said.

  Janeway bristled at Regina’s use of Glenn’s other title. To lead Galen, Starfleet’s newest specialized medical vessel, they had selected one of the few ranking officers who had completed both her medical studies and her command training.

  “I wasn’t positing a diagnosis, Captain. Forgive me. I would never presume. But it does occur to me that the five of us, as the leaders of this fleet, probably don’t take enough time to share our unique perspectives and challenges with one another—the only people around us who can truly appreciate our particular stresses and struggles.” Turning to Chakotay she continued, “Thank you, Captain, for leading us to this moment. I am truly grateful for it.”

  Janeway turned to Farkas. Her eyes seemed to glisten in the light cast by the vast panoply of stars overhead.

  “I suppose I am too,” Farkas said.

  Chakotay looked at each of them in turn. “The greatest value I have found in this life I chose has been sharing it with men and women like you,” he said simply. “For me it will always be worth the risks.”

  11

  * * *

  VOYAGER

  Doctor Sal entered the medical bay and found a small crowd hovering outside a level-ten force field separating a single biobed at the rear from the rest of the room. Acting Captain Harry Kim, Doctor Sharak, Counselor Cambridge, Seven, and two nurses stood watching the holographic Doctor as he tended to the unconscious Ensign Gwyn. Her right arm looked like it had recently passed through a meat grinder. The rest of her body that was exposed, her shoulders and face, showed obvious evidence of radiation burns.

  “What happened?” Sal demanded as she joined the group.

  Seven quickly briefed her on the events at the asteroid and the strange, toxic sludge that had assaulted Gwyn. “I was able to get us back to the shuttle, and as soon as we were in transporter range I signaled Voyager for an emergency beam out.”

  “Do you know what the substance was?” Sal asked.

  Seven shook her head. “I did not take the time for analysis. When Gwyn was transported back, the biofilters removed any traces of it from her body.”

  “I’ll send a team out right away to retrieve the shuttle,” Kim said. “We’ll enforce standard biohazard protocols in handling the substance on Gwyn’s EV suit.”

  “It changed when I fired on it,” Seven said. “The molecular structure of the original substance will no longer be intact.”

  “Can we retrieve any of the original for study?” Sal asked.

  “Is that really necessary?” Cambridge interjected. “Why court further disaster?”

  “Because I need to understand how whatever it was did whatever it did to her,” Sal replied.

  “It ate through her suit very quickly,” Seven noted. “This wasn’t an instance of the ensign touching something she shouldn’t have touched. Once it made contact with her, it moved up her arm. It continued to move until I stunned it, at which point it appeared to lose its liquid properties.”

  Sal moved past the group and addressed the Doctor. “Do you have a prognosis yet?”

  The Doctor continued to work without looking up as he replied. “She suffered level-eight radiation exposure. She’s going to require immediate antiproton therapy to reverse the damage. The burns and other cosmetic damage will be relatively easy to repair, but I won’t begin full dermal regeneration until the radiation protocol is complete.”

  “Have you taken any samples of her blood?”

  At this, the Doctor did look up. “The bio-scanner is taking constant readings. Is that not sufficient?”

  “I really do need a few vials, if it’s not too much trouble, Doctor,” Sal said.

  “Why?”

  Sal paused to look at all those assembled. Her gaze settled on Captain Kim. “I need the room for a few minutes,” she said. “Cambridge and Sharak can stay.”

  Kim seemed to do a quick analysis and nodded. “Okay. I want a full report whenever you have settled on a course of action and can update me on Gwyn’s prognosis. Seven, with me.”

  Cambridge followed them as far as the door and after a brief, private exchange with Seven returned to Sal’s side. Another glance from Sal was enough to send the two nurses out of earshot.

  “The floor is yours, El’nor,” Cambridge said.

  “Ensign Gwyn is the key to Nancy Conlon’s cure,” Sal said simply. “You can’t initiate the antiproton therapy yet.”

  “If I don’t initiate the therapy right away, it is very likely Ensign Gwyn will die from the radiation exposure.”

  “Then we have a problem,” Sal said.

  The Doctor moved through the emergency force field, a disquieting sight even though it was one of the advantages of his holographic form, and gestured for Sharak, Sal, and Cambridge to follow him into Sharak’s private office.

  Once they were all settled and the door shut, Sal continued. “Ensign Gwyn’s body contains cells I require to create Conlon’s gene-therapy regimen. I’ve already prepared the vectors. I just need the cells. Shortly before she went on that damned away mission, I gave Gwyn a hormonal booster to initiate the optimal cellular conditions. By now, they should be perfect, unless whatever did this to her, or your antiproton therapy, causes them to revert or did some other damage of which we are yet unaware.”

  The Doctor crossed his arms at his chest, his high, balding pate furrowing intensely. “What particular advantage do Ensign Gwyn’s cells possess? There’s nothing in her medical file that indicates any unusual biochemical processes.”

  Sal had been hoping this conversation might never be necessary. As it was, she still might be able to get through this without betraying the depth of the ethical dilemma in which she had mired them all.

  “I’m not surprised you missed it, Doctor,” Sal said amiably. “The technique I am utilizing has only been shown to be effective in a handful of cases, most recently by a specialist who is no longer working with the Federation Health Institute.”

  “My reading interests are wide and varied,” the Doctor said.

  “Doctor Dorothy Chen-Minatta?”

  The doctor paused, as if thinking. He was actually probably searching his program’s medical database. He seemed slightly alarmed when the proper file wasn’t located. “I haven’t heard of her work.”

  “Like I said, the applications aren’t that wide,” Sal said, knowing full well that they would be were it not for the politicians on Krios.

  “Is there any danger in taking some of her blood?” Sharak asked. He seemed impatient for this conference to end, undoubtedly thinking only of Gwyn’s immediate needs.

  “Ensign Gwyn is well aware that I would be requiring more samples of her blood when she returned from her mission,” Sal said. “I suggest you allow me to take them and then begin the antiproton therapy. The results won’t matter if she dies now. Assuming she survives we can try again as soon as she’s able.”

  “I will collect the samples for you,” the Doctor said. Sharak followed him out. Sal was about to do the same when Cambridge cleared his throat.

  “The most obvious genetic factor unique to Ensign Gwyn is her partial Kriosian heritage,” he began thoughtfully. “And Doctor Dorothy Chen-Minatta’s most recent medical miracle also involved a patient from Krios, as I recall.”

  “Very good, Counselor. You get an A-plus for reading comprehension and analysis,” Sal said.

  “Typically, Kriosians are unwilling to act as blood or organ donors to any other species,” Cambridge continued. “I’m curious to know how you convinced Ensign Gwyn to break with that tradition.”

  “I told her what was at stake, while protecting Conlon’s privacy, of course. Turns out she’s a little more open-minded than most of her people.”

  “And that hormonal therapy? That’s unusual, isn’t it?”

  “We’ve already had this conversation, Counselor.”

  “Yes, pushing ethical boundaries
, I remember.”

  “Then I should get back to work.”

  “Is our next conversation going to be about unintended consequences?” Cambridge asked.

  Sal paused. “I sincerely hope not.”

  “But you can’t be sure?”

  “Not until I get a look at her blood.”

  Cambridge nodded slowly. “You’ll let me know as soon as you do.”

  “I’m curious about your interest, beyond the health and welfare of Lieutenant Conlon.”

  “As a crew member on Voyager, Ensign Gwyn’s psychological needs are also my responsibility.”

  “I’m sure she’ll seek you out if any of the trauma she experienced on that asteroid becomes too much to bear,” Sal suggested.

  “One more thing you should know, Doctor.”

  “Really?”

  “When this little working group was formed a few weeks ago, I took the time to read everything in our databases about you, Doctor Sharak, and the Doctor. It was my intention to make sure I was prepared to handle any internal conflicts that might arise among us. You spent some time on Krios many years ago, did you not?”

  “I did. It’s been so long I hardly remember.”

  “That’s odd. I would imagine those ghosts might be more talkative than most, especially considering the fate of Kataly Norol. You don’t fail often, Doctor, but when you do . . .”

  “I do so spectacularly,” Sal finished for him. “Do us both a favor, Counselor. Let the dead lie, and let’s focus our efforts where they can still do some good.”

  “I will if you will,” Cambridge replied.

  Sal nodded and returned to the medical bay, where three vials of blood awaited her. Sharak and the Doctor stood just outside the force field. The area contained within had been dimmed, and soft golden waves already targeted Gwyn’s body in short, computer-controlled bursts.

  As Sal collected the vials she feared she was now carrying the fate of two women in her hands. One word repeated itself over and over in her head, more a prayer than a mantra.

  Please, please, please, please, please . . .

  DK-1116

  Lieutenant Patel instinctively retreated from the door as she lifted her hands to her ears to dim the shrieking that now filled the chamber. Lieutenant Lasren did the same as they all moved back toward the center of the room, though he was careful to avoid the spot where the interface light was activated.

  “What the hell is that?” Jepel shouted.

  Patel shook her head. “Are you getting anything, Kenth?”

  Lasren closed his eyes, obviously trying to concentrate, but after a moment gave up.

  “Anger,” he said. “Rage.”

  Patel was about to order everyone back to the relative safety of the cavern when the sound ceased as abruptly as it had begun. Everyone paused, waiting for another round. When it didn’t come, she said, “So let’s avoid that door for now.”

  “Works for me,” Vincent agreed.

  Slowly, Patel crossed to the second unopened door. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her hand to its center and introduced herself. “I am Lieutenant Devi Patel of the Federation Starship . . . ouch.”

  Just as before, her hand was pierced and after a few moments, the door vanished and a foul, dank stench wafted from the opening. Beyond it, a large space, more utilitarian than the sphere room, was filled with tall, internally illuminated white columns spaced every few meters. Checking her tricorder, she said, “The oxygen-nitrogen balance in this room is being adjusted. I think whatever controls this place is making it more comfortable for us.”

  “How thoughtful of it,” Lasren said.

  “Anything?” Patel asked.

  The lieutenant shook his head. “Not here.”

  “Okay, let’s take a look.”

  All four entered the room. It soon became clear that the columns were also demarcations, separating various equal-sized square spaces. Several contained tables of varying heights. All had been cleared of any tools, and the surfaces of the tables were coated with heavy layers of dust.

  In the back of each space, a small alcove had been carved into the wall. None of them contained spheres, but each alcove appeared to be an appropriate size to house one.

  “Thoughts, gentlemen?” Patel asked when they had regrouped in the central aisle that extended from the doorway to the far end of the room.

  “It feels like a work space, several of them,” Lasren said. “Whatever equipment was used is long gone, but I can imagine people standing in each of these squares doing something.”

  “Performing experiments?” Vincent ventured.

  “Hard to tell,” Jepel said.

  Patel moved to examine the nearest column more closely with her tricorder, then wandered about for a bit, following the readings. “There’s a ton of energy running through these columns, but I can’t pinpoint a source.”

  Lasren stepped to her side and reached for the column. The moment his hand touched it, a face emerged from the bright white glow.

  Both Patel and Lasren leaped back, startled, as Jepel and Vincent exclaimed in unison, “Whoa.”

  All shared the momentary adrenaline rush, quick breaths, and racing hearts, then Patel said, “Was that thing inside the pillar?”

  “I actually don’t think so,” Lasren said. “If I’m wrong, you guys get ready to run,” he added with a wink.

  Vincent took a few steps closer to the door as Lasren again approached the column. The moment he touched it the face appeared, attached to a body. The face itself was no more or less startling than many aliens Lasren had encountered. It had an angular shape, fourteen deep-set sockets covered by solid black lenses. A central opening below them housed a set of sharp-looking pincers. Wide indentations rose from a point at the bottom running along the sides in a V shape. A long, wormlike body extended from the face, undulating back and forth. It was thick and ropy and covered with small, fine cilia. Four longer tendrils were attached to the body, ending in triangular-shaped “hands” that looked more like articulated spades.

  “This is like a viewscreen,” Lasren finally said.

  “So he’s not in there?” Patel asked.

  “No. It’s an image.”

  Several of the same alien glyphs Patel had seen in the blue pillar of light were scrolling above the top of the pillar, just above the alien’s head.

  “I wish we could translate those,” Patel said.

  “Looks like his name is Glorf Malorfovitch to me,” Jepel said, clearly hoping to cut the tension a bit.

  “Let’s check the others,” Patel suggested.

  They did so, and by the time they were done, the physical parameters for sixty previously unidentified species had been added to their tricorders’ databases, many of which were humanoid. Several, however, including one with bat-like wings and three heads, and a dozen that had between four and sixteen legs, were more exotic.

  In each case, a series of alien characters unique to the species accompanied the image. When their cataloguing was complete, Patel wanted to return to the blue pillar and see if she could find the same series of characters in the light.

  Lasren was anxious to see what was behind the other door that did not scream at them when they approached. Patel activated it, and when it vanished another metal hallway, similar to the one they had used to first access the sphere room, appeared.

  “There’s a staircase at the end of this one,” Lasren reported.

  “Up or down?” Patel asked.

  “Way down,” Lasren replied.

  “Why don’t you three check it out?”

  “Are you sure you’ll be okay here alone?” Jepel asked.

  “I’m not planning on doing anything more dangerous than playing with this interface, and it’s going to take me a while,” Patel replied. “Keep your comms open. Get back in twenty minutes.”

  “You’re the boss,” Lasren said with a smile Patel found somewhat patronizing.

  Once she was alone, Patel stepped back into the blue pillar of
light. She studied her tricorder display of the characters that designated the first alien they had found. She then searched the characters streaming all around her for a match. It took several minutes of patient study before the glyphs began to make a little sense to her.

  “Glorf Malorfovitch,” she said aloud when she finally identified the correct string. She took a moment to check her surroundings once again before reaching up and touching the matching characters.

  The response was instantaneous. A single blue sphere was ejected from its alcove and came to rest directly before her.

  The rush of accomplishment was almost overwhelming.

  Putting her tricorder back in her pouch, Patel reached for the sphere. It was incredibly light, almost as if it had no substance at all, but with her fingers wrapped around it, it moved with her as she stepped out of the pillar.

  Patel carried the sphere back into the room of columns. She entered the first work space to the left of Glorf’s column and lifted the sphere into the alcove above the table.

  Immediately, a new interface was activated before her eyes. It was a three-dimensional, holographic rendering of what appeared to be one of the biodomes. But unlike any of the domes they had scanned, this one was teeming with life-forms, all of which looked like Glorf. The scene appeared to move in a time lapse, rushing forward and covering several days if not weeks in moments. Patel risked reaching her hand into the display and when she did so, it paused. She soon realized that her hand gestures within the display could alter her view, enlarging certain areas or collapsing others. It was incredibly intuitive, and she simply played with it for a bit, mastering the controls.

  She eventually discovered that one of the controls, a small set of blue dots superimposed on the playback, was for volume. Once it was activated, she could hear the communications of the creatures depicted as long as she slowed the replay to something close to real time. The problem was that the universal translator couldn’t parse the strange shushes, clicks, and whistles of Glorf’s species. Deciding there would be time later to try and synch her translator with this system, she disengaged the audio.