Star Trek: The Next Generation: Starfleet Academy #6: Mystery of the Missing Crew

by Michael Jan Friedman

  As if to remind the android of his peril, the thing in pursuit of them turned a corner and prepared to take another shot. Noting this with a backward glance, Data resorted again to a zigzag course.

  It worked nearly as well as before, though this time the energy beams came within inches of their target before blackening the bulkheads. Behind the android, Sinna gasped.

  Suddenly Data came up with another idea. At almost the same time, he saw an open turbolift up ahead on his right. If they could make it there and get inside before the construct blasted them, there was a possibility he could disable the thing—and all the other intruders as well.

  But first, he had to reach the turbolift. Weaving back and forth across the corridor, the android did his best not to be predictable. If the construct saw a pattern in Data’s maneuvers, it would anticipate his next move and destroy him.

  To Sinna’s credit, she didn’t cry out or utter a word of despair. She simply hung on to the android’s hand and gritted her teeth, her eyes wide with all the emotions she was doing her best to contain.

  Not much farther, Data assured himself as a bolt of devastating force sizzled so close to his ear he thought it might have hit him. A moment later, as his neural net scanned for damage, he realized that the beam had missed. However, the construct was consistently coming closer now, despite the android’s best efforts.

  Putting his head down and running for all he was worth, Data headed straight for the open lift. He could hear the clicking of their pursuer’s feet as they negotiated the length of the corridor, matching the android’s progress. He could see the soot-black char marks appear on the bulkheads ahead of him as he struggled not to become one of them.

  Finally Data came within just a few meters of the lift. By then, he realized, the construct might have recognized his destination. For safety’s sake, he pretended to reach for the spot—and then drew back, just, as the thing in back of them unleashed another volley.

  The energy burst cut a black furrow into the duranium surface just shy of the lift—but both the android and the Yanna were unscathed. Quickly, before the construct could fire again, he took an angle and dived into the opening.

  As he and Sinna collapsed in a tangle of arms and legs, he barked out two words: “Deck Three.”

  Immediately the doors to the compartment began to close—though not as rapidly as Data would have liked. If the invader caught them in the turbolift compartment, there would be no way to avoid its deadly blasts.

  No sooner had he considered this possibility than he saw one of the construct’s dark, metallic arms slide into view—a weapon on the end of it. As the android watched, helpless, he saw the thing take aim at them through the ever-diminishing space between the doors.

  When the barrel of the weapon was pointed right at Data’s forehead, it tired. However, the resulting energy blast came just a split-second too late. The doors completed their movement and shut tight, protecting the android and his companion from harm.

  But even then, they weren’t completely out of the woods. As they watched, the invader’s destructive beam caused the doors to ripple and bubble along their vertical seal. No doubt, the concentrated energy would eventually eat through the tough duranium.

  Fortunately, the lift compartment chose that moment to begin its descent, in response to Data’s command. As it moved in the direction of Deck Three, all evidence of the invader’s barrage was left behind. They were safe—at least for the time being.

  Disentangling himself from Sinna, the android helped her to her feet. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She nodded gratefully. “Fine … I guess. Where are we going, anyway?”

  Before Data could answer, the turbolift stopped and the doors opened. Taking the Yanna’s hand, he led her out onto Deck Three.

  “There is an auxiliary control center nearby,” he explained, as they turned right and progressed along a curving corridor. “It will give us direct access to all the ship’s life support functions.”

  Sinna looked at him. “Life support? But that invader-thing didn’t look as if it needed air to breathe … or heat to stay warm, for that matter. And it can probably operate in the dark. So how are we going to stop it by making changes in life support?”

  “Life support encompasses more than just air, heat, and light,” the android reminded her.

  But before he could say any more, he caught sight of the entrance to the auxiliary control center at the end of a short corridor. With his goal in view he pulled his companion along even more quickly. After all, there was no knowing whether another of the artificial intruders was converging on the same destination.

  As they approached the control center, the doors parted for them with a soft whoosh. Once inside, Data looked around—and spotted the console he had come here for. It wasn’t very difficult, considering it was the largest and most complicated one in the room.

  It had an internal sensor grid just above it—a cross-section of the Yosemite rendered in luminous green lines. Once he located each of the intruders at a glance, the android told himself, he could then use the grid to follow their progress.

  “I still don’t understand,” Sinna remarked. “What else is there to life support besides air, heat, and light?”

  “Gravity,” he said simply, continuing to size up the equipment in front of him.

  “Gravity?” she echoed.

  Data nodded. “As you know, most Starfleet ships operate at one hundred percent of Earth-normal gravity. I intend to substantially increase that level of force on a selective basis throughout the Yosemite—and thereby render the invader units unable to move or function.”

  Then, having provided Sinna with all the information he considered necessary, he turned his complete attention to his task.

  Captain Thorsson himself had shown the android how to work a sensor board, so it wasn’t much of a challenge to determine the invaders’ positions. There were six of them in all, it seemed.

  By the time he was finished, they were each represented by a red dot on the bright-green grid. One invader in each of the Yosemite’s transporter rooms, as Lagon had informed them. Another outside the turbolift on Deck Two—still blasting away at the lift doors, perhaps. Yet another on Deck One, guarding the engine room.

  And one on Deck Three—making its way toward them. Fortunately, it was all the way at the other end of the ship, or Data would have had to reconsider his plan.

  With the intruders targeted, the next step was to release the Yosemite from its preset shipwide gravity lock. Manipulating the controls, the android got rid of the lock in short order. Then he gave the computer its instructions—saying them out loud for Sinna’s benefit.

  “Increase artificial gravity,” he announced, “to one thousand percent Earth-normal on Deck Five, sections seven … seventeen … and twenty-four.”

  That would cover the invaders in the transporter rooms.

  “Implement the same increase on Deck Two, section six … Deck One, section thirty … and Deck Three, section nine.”

  That would take care of the three others.

  But as the computer worked to carry out Data’s orders, he saw that his scheme would not work out as smoothly as he had hoped. It must have shown in his expression, because his companion put her hand on his shoulder.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Sinna.

  The android glanced at her. “The Yosemite is a much older ship than the Tripoli,” he explained. “On the Tripoli it would have been possible to apply an increased gravity field to all of the invaders at once. Here, my orders will have to be carried out in sequence. In other words, the fields can only be set up one by one.”

  Her brow creased with concern. “Does that mean it won’t work?”

  Data shook his head. “Not necessarily. It simply means it will work more slowly. And only in the sequence I gave the computer.”

  Sinna looked at him. “That shouldn’t make a difference … as long as we get them all in the end. Right?”

 
“Correct,” he responded. “However, our inability to control sequencing may prevent us from getting them all.”

  He turned back to the internal sensor grid and its six red dots. Only one was moving; he pointed to it, following its motion with his finger.

  “This,” he said, “is the last intruder on Deck Three. It is approaching us at a rapid pace—having detected our presence here, though I am not sure how.” He slid his finger to a spot partway between the red dot and their current position. “I intend to establish a gravity trap here—a juncture it cannot help but pass on its way to us.”

  “But there’s no guarantee the trap will be set up in time to catch the thing,” Sinna concluded.

  “No guarantee at all,” the android confirmed.

  CHAPTER

  6

  Data knew that Sinna could not have been happy about the situation—but as before, she kept her fears to herself.

  Only her eyes showed her anxiety as they followed the progress of the red dot on deck three. It was moving through the ship’s corridors at a most impressive pace, coming ever closer to them.

  But at the same time the Yosemite‘s computer was working to stop it. As the android looked on, something happened to the area around the red dot in section seven on Deck Five. The grid went from green to blue in that spot.

  It meant that the first of his commands had been carried out. One of the intruders was now pinned under a gravity ten times as strong as that of Earth.

  One down, thought the android … and five to go. A moment later a second section on the sensor grid turned blue. And a third.

  All three of the intruders on Deck Five had been rendered useless. And as Data watched, a fourth—the construct on Deck One, near the engine room—was neutralized as well.

  “Only two left,” Sinna observed. Before she had completed her remark, a fifth red dot was captured, leaving only a single construct still at large—the one on their level.

  The android tracked its movement along the grid, calculated its speed, and came up with an estimate of when it would arrive at the site of the gravity trap. Then he checked the computer’s progress in creating the trap.

  “Are we going to be in time?” asked Sinna. Her voice was taut with concern.

  Data’s answer was simple, to the point, and completely lacking in emotion. “No,” he informed her. “We are not. The construct will pass the location of the trap several seconds before it is set up.”

  Sinna’s jaw dropped. “You mean it’s going to keep on coming … and there’s nothing we can do to stop it?” She tried to compose herself. “Aren’t you the least bit afraid of what might happen now?”

  Without looking at her, the android started working at his controls again. “I am incapable of being afraid,” he explained. “It is not part of my programming. However, I have no more wish to be destroyed than you do. That is why I have already begun to institute a secondary plan.”

  That seemed to calm her down a bit. “Secondary?” she echoed. “You mean, there’s still a chance…?”

  “That we can stop it?” Keeping his eyes on the console, he nodded. “A chance, yes—but with even less possibility of success than before. You see, this plan depends not only on the ship’s computer, but on us.”

  “That’s fine with me,” said Sinna, surprising him. The muscles in her temples rippled with determination. “Anything’s better than sitting here and waiting. What do we have to do?”

  Data turned to her. “I have instructed the computer to set up another trap. However, it lies along only one of the several routes the invader may take to get here. And if it proceeds along a different route, the trap will be useless.”

  His companion eyed him. “I see what you’re getting at. We have to find it and get it to pursue us along that route. That is, without becoming trapped ourselves, of course.”

  “Exactly,” replied the android. “Of course,” he went on, “it would have been more convenient to institute the trap directly outside this control room. However, we would then have been unable to exit without releasing the construct from the forces binding it.”

  Sinna nodded to signify her understanding. With one last glance at the life support console, “Data led the way out into the corridor and gestured for her to follow.

  “Come,” the android said. “We must act quickly.”

  With the Yanna on his heels, Data launched himself down the corridor. It took only a few seconds for him to reach an intersection, where he turned right and pelted down a second corridor. At the next junction he made a left and kept on going.

  His companion did her best to keep up. Right now that was all that was necessary. It was when they actually encountered their adversary that they would have any real need for speed.

  Little by little, they approached the point at which their path would intersect with that of the intruder. Data could only hope that their adversary had seen no reason to take a different path, or he and Sinna could be in trouble. After all, without the internal sensor grid to refer to, they might as well have been operating in the dark.

  A few moments later, however, they came across some evidence that they were on the right track. Naturally, the android heard it first.

  It was the clicking sound that the intruders made when they ran. Stopping just short of another intersection, Data motioned for Sinna to stop as well.

  “By the twin moons,” she gasped, nearly out of breath from her exertions. Her brow wrinkled as she listened. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “It is the intruder,” the android responded, just in case she really expected an answer.

  The clicking sounds were getting louder, but Data and Sinna didn’t dare run away yet. They had to make sure that when they did run, the construct came after them. So they waited.

  And waited.

  At last, when it seemed that the thing was right on top of them, Data peeked around the corner, hoping to sight their adversary. As it turned out, they sighted each other.

  Even the android wasn’t prepared for what followed. He was expecting to see a machine much like the one he had seen earlier, with much the same abilities.

  He was wrong. And he would have been dead wrong if he hadn’t managed to pull his head back in time.

  As it was, the intruder’s energy beam ripped away a large section of the bulkhead where he’d been standing, leaving only a smoking heap of metallic sludge in its place. Allowing Sinna to pull him behind her, they took off back down the corridor.

  “That blast…” the Yanna began.

  “Was much stronger than those we have seen previously,” the android noted. “That is because we are dealing with a different sort of construct here … one which is obviously a good deal more powerful than the specimen we encountered earlier.”

  Then there was no more time to speak, because the bulkheads on either side of them were turning into blazing slag under the destructive influence of the intruder’s beams.

  In three strides Data caught up to Sinna; one more and he had passed her. Then, as before, he took advantage of his superhuman quickness to keep them just ahead of their pursuer’s barrage.

  Making a right at the junction, the android skidded a little—and it almost cost him his artificial existence. Fortunately, his positronic reflexes allowed him to recover before the invader’s blast took his head off. Spurred by a new sense of urgency, he bowed his head and sped off.

  The construct wasn’t as far behind them as Data would have liked. He could hear the thing’s feet hitting the deck at a pace that matched his own. Not only did this intruder command more firepower, the android decided, it was also faster than the other intruders.

  Data negotiated the corridor in broken-field fashion. Zig. Zag. Zag again. And Sinna followed, zagging right along with him.

  The android regretted the fact that their evasive maneuvers cut down slightly on their speed, but it couldn’t be helped. No amount of swiftness would help them if the construct could get off an easy shot.

  A
t the next intersection Data turned left, wary of going into another skid. Still, their adversary’s blasts came within inches of hitting them, leaving the bulkhead to one side of them a blackened, hissing ruin.

  “How much farther?” asked Sinna, her breath coming in huge gulps, her face bright red as a result of her exertions.

  “Not much,” he replied, careful not to break stride even the least little bit. “I programmed the gravity trap to be created just beyond the next corridor crossing.”

  By now the Yosemite’s computer should have had enough time to carry out his orders. The trap should have been set.

  But what if it was not? What if something had gone wrong, and there was nothing to halt the intruder in his tracks?

  The android didn’t want to think about that. Instead, he concentrated on making it to the end of the hallway, where he and Sinna would take their chances.

  As if it somehow sensed that the chase was coming to an end—one way or the other—the construct increased the intensity of its onslaught. Its blasts ripped through the bulkheads on either side of Data, sending up a noise like a thousand screeching voices.

  Smoke billowed around the android and his companion in thick, black clouds. Fragments of the bulkhead spattered and sizzled on the deck around his feet. And still he went on, plunging toward what he hoped was their salvation.

  Squinting, Data did his best to see past the smoke … past the crackling, red energy beams that tore tunnels of lurid light through it … to the upcoming intersection. He could barely make out the corners where the bulkheads ended, giving way to the perpendicular corridor.

  What he had to accomplish in the next second or two would require split-second timing. After all, if he stopped too soon and cut right or left, the machine in pursuit of him would note that and do the. same.

  But if he waited too long to stop, he and Sinna would slide into the gravity trap. And while all that high-intensity g-force probably wouldn’t prove lethal to him, it certainly would to the Yanna. Nor could he toss her away at the last moment—because the intruder might go after her instead of the android.