POWER HUNGRY

by Howard Weinstein

  “On a small scale, no doubt?” said Picard.

  “Very small, sir, since there wasn’t any industrialization at all on Thiopa until about a century ago. But the other Endrayans, the ones who didn’t join the Sojourners, started exploiting the land, digging irrigation ditches, diverting streams and rivers, digging mines. To the Sojourners, all those things were violations of the land—they call Thiopa their Mother World.”

  “An image,” Data interjected, “that is common to many primitive humanoid cultures throughout the galaxy.”

  “Anyway,” Wes continued, “the Sojourners left the settled part of Endraya and moved out into a really isolated desert area called the Sa’drit Void. Even today the Void is pretty much unsettled. When they got there, they built a village in a place called Sanctuary Canyon. They have a very strong belief in sacred places, and they decided this would be the most sacred Sojourner place in the whole world.”

  “What happened after that?” said Picard.

  “This small religious village existed for a couple of hundred years, almost like a monastery. Some people left the group, some others came to join it, but the population never varied much from three or four hundred. The Sojourners did a lot of writing and praying, and they sent what they called mentors out to other parts of the world to try to convert people to the Sojourner way, without much success. The movement broke up after two hundred years, and the Sojourners blended back into the developing society in Endraya—”

  “Until Ruer Stross led his military coup and took over Thiopa,” Data interrupted.

  Picard gave him a sidelong glance. “Thank you, Mr. Data—but Ensign Crusher is doing fine.”

  “Data’s right, sir,” Wesley went on. “When Stross became sovereign protector and started dealing with the Nuarans, it was as if Thiopan society went into fast forward. A lot of people who weren’t Sojourners got scared by what was happening. A teacher named Evain, who lived in Endraya, started studying what the original Sojourners had written down almost two thousand years ago. Those writings are known as the Testaments. Evain started updating all those old books and preaching a modern version of the old religion.”

  “How large a following did he have?” asked Riker.

  “Not very large at first, maybe a few thousand. But they tended to be young, well-educated people. Then, after ten years or so, Thiopa started seeing the negative side of uncontrolled technology—like all the pollution down there now. And more and more people started paying attention to what Evain and the other Sojourners were talking about. They had demonstrations and riots and strikes. The government even had to declare martial law for almost two years. They had troops guarding factories, and they started arresting suspected Sojourners.”

  “Interesting,” Picard said. “Did they arrest this Evain?”

  “Not right away. Things got better for a while, then worse again. Especially in Endraya, which was the least prosperous realm on the planet, because of the dry climate out there. About twenty years ago, the Endrayans started running out of water for irrigation, and more and more people there joined the Sojourners, or at least sympathized with them. Stross was afraid the Sojourners threatened his government. So they arrested Evain.”

  “Did they execute him?”

  “No, sir. But he died in prison a few years later, or so they say. At about the same time, the most dedicated Sojourners moved out to the Sa’drit Void, where their religion got started. And that’s where they still live. As we’ve already seen, they’re capable of mounting very successful terrorist attacks on the government, even right in Bareesh, the capital.”

  “Hmmm,” Picard mused. “I wonder where these Sojourners are getting their weapons?”

  “I wondered about that, too, Captain,” Wesley said. “But I couldn’t find out anything.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Crusher—very thorough job of research,” Data said.

  “Better watch your back, Data.” A smile played across Riker’s lips.

  Data’s head swiveled as he took the phrase literally. “That is difficult without a mirror, sir.”

  Riker and the others stifled their laughter. “Never mind, Data.”

  “Ahh,” said Data after a moment. “A colloquialism.”

  He and Wes returned to their bridge shift, leaving Picard and Riker to their deliberations. “There’s obviously a lot of symbolism involved in this conflict,” said the first officer. “Two thousand years of religious passions unleashed . . .”

  “Mmmm. Are you a religious man, Number One?”

  “You can’t grow up in Alaska, as I did, with all that pristine natural beauty around you, and not wonder about how it got there.” Riker’s voice took on a husky reverence. “Standing on the edge of a glacier, with amazing mountains on one side and a pod of orcas leaping out of an icy ocean on the other—that’s a religious experience. But if you mean religious in the formal, organized sense, no, sir.”

  Picard rested his chin on his hand. “I sang in a church choir when I was a boy.”

  “I never knew that, sir.”

  “Yes, well, it was more of a musical experience than a religious one. But we sang in one of those magnificent cathedrals . . . must’ve been a thousand years old, taken generations to build. Incredible architecture and workmanship, soaring spires and arches.”

  “I know the kind you mean. I saw some when I toured Europe.”

  Picard fell silent for a lingering moment, then looked directly at Riker. “But I never felt a holy presence in that place, Number One. Never felt that sensation of wonder and belonging until my first voyage into deep space. That’s when it dawned on me that no structure or philosophy devised by man could ever hope to represent or replicate divinity.” He shrugged. “At least, that’s my opinion.”

  “Mine, too, Captain. So here we are, mixed up in a fight that seems to be as much religious as it is political.”

  “Yes. I wish I had a better grasp of the inflammatory capabilities that seem to be inherent in that combination. What’s your prognosis for a peaceful settlement on Thiopa?”

  “Not good, sir.”

  The intercom tone was followed by Data’s voice. “Captain Picard?”

  “Yes, Data?”

  “I am beaming down to Thiopa now for my meeting with Dr. Keat. Is there anything specific about which you would like me to attempt to gather information?”

  “Yes. Obviously, find out what you can about this proposed weather control project. But we also need to know more about the role of science and scientists in this society—and how all that relates to the conflict between the government and the Sojourners. Give me a full report as soon as you return.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Data stepped onto the transporter pad. “Energize.” His form sparkled and faded—then resumed its solid shape in the lobby of the Thiopan Science Council building, one of the glistening government structures in Bareesh. Kael Keat was just coming down a broad curving staircase to welcome him. “Commander Data, I’ve got transportation waiting outside. There are some things I’d like to show you.” In contrast to the elegant attire she’d worn the previous evening, Dr. Keat was dressed in khaki shorts and a breezy open-necked blouse.

  The vehicle was low and sleek, with a tinted canopy allowing the passengers an unobstructed view. Data climbed into the passenger seat as Keat slid in beside him. Door panels glided into place as the bubble top closed automatically over them. Keat touched a hand throttle and they accelerated smoothly, with only the faintest thrum of an engine. “This is our newest model. Solar powered, clean and quiet. We got the technology from the Nuarans before our split. This way, we won’t waste fossil fuel on transportation.”

  “Will that make much difference in your air-pollution quotient?”

  “Not much. Unfortunately, I haven’t been able to convince the powers at the top that we should phase out all fossil-fuel burning. So what we save on transportation I’m afraid we’ll just burn for some other kind of energy production.”

  “Would
it be correct to surmise that you and your government are not in accord on environmental policies?”

  Keat threw back her head and laughed. “Are you programmed for understatement, Commander?”

  Humor, Data thought. Another chance to master the art. The android gazed blankly at her for a moment, then grimaced in the best imitation of her laugh he could muster. “No,” he said, instantly resuming his normal equability.

  She gave him a double-take glance.

  “Was a humorous response on my part not appropriate?” he asked.

  “Appropriate, yes. Just—just not very well executed. No offense.”

  “None taken,” he said brightly. “There are many complexities of humanoid behavior for which I was not programmed. My shipmates are sometimes too circumspect in administering corrective comments, even when I ask for them. So I appreciate your directness.”

  “Well, that’s good, Data. Because I am nothing if not direct. It’s a good if somewhat troublesome quality to have.”

  “Troublesome? How?”

  “Not everyone appreciates it. My tendency to speak plainly probably closed as many doors for me as it’s opened—but the ones it did open were the important ones. Besides, it’s just the way I am. You seem to lack the programming for certain subtleties, and I don’t have the time for them, so I think you and I are going to get along quite well.”

  “That is gratifying to know, Dr. Keat.”

  They left the government center and took several turns to reach a two-lane road that hugged the slopes above the withered Eloki River. The highway’s elevation made it possible to see a considerable distance both up- and downstream. Both riverbanks were solidly developed; the side they were driving on appeared to be largely residential, whereas the far bank was industrial, with factory and processing facilities extending for several kilometers in all directions. The air was murky on both sides, but the visible blanket of poison haze was far heavier on the industrial bank.

  “Are androids like you standard equipment on Starfleet starships?”

  “On the contrary, I am the only one.”

  “Really? Where did you come from? Did Starfleet build you?”

  “No, Doctor. I came from the Omicron Theta star system, where I was built at an independent science colony. I was found there by the U.S.S. Tripoli.”

  “Found? You mean, this colony left you there?”

  “In a sense. The colony was destroyed, with no survivors. I had been completed and tested, but not really activated. The colonists left me out in the open, near a beacon.”

  “How long ago?”

  “Twenty-seven years.”

  Keat grunted in fascination. “Do you know who’s responsible for designing you?”

  “I did not, until an Enterprise mission took us to Omicron Theta. It seems a Dr. Noonien Soong—”

  “I’ve read about him.”

  “That is not surprising for someone with your scientific training. Dr. Soong was considered the most brilliant cybernetics expert on earth, but he failed in a highly publicized effort to build a positronic brain. He considered this an extreme disgrace and evidently felt his career had been destroyed.”

  “That’s very sad.”

  “He disappeared soon after the positronic project collapsed, and no one knew what had become of him—until we found his lab on Omicron Theta. He had gone to the colony under an assumed name and resumed his work there. I am the result,” Data concluded with total modesty.

  “Looks as if he succeeded after all. Too bad he didn’t live to rake in the rewards. That often happens to scientists.” Her voice hardened. “As a group, we get more blame and less credit than we deserve—a trap I plan to avoid.”

  Kael Keat swerved sharply off the main road, and the vehicle bounced down a long gravel drive that dipped between crouched hills. She stopped as they reached a five-meter-high chain-link fence topped with lethal-looking coils of barbed wire. Several hundred meters past the barriers stood a bombed-out building hulk, mostly rubble and twisted girders, with few recognizable walls still standing. “That’s where I was created, Commander Data.”

  “I do not understand.”

  “That building is our monument to stupidity—the remains of our Advanced Energy Institute. The work being done there was supposed to save us from our dependency on nonrenewable energy sources, replacing them with a limitless supply of clean, safe energy.”

  “It did not work.”

  “No, it didn’t. The Science Council has always been responsible for overseeing all technological development on our world. And when I was young, they could do no wrong. By the time I left Thiopa to study for my advanced degrees, we were already facing the consequences of uncontrolled progress. When I was off-world, I saw a whole new approach. I learned that technological advancement didn’t have to be won at the expense of global health and sanity. By the time I came home, it was obvious to me and other younger scientists that if we didn’t change our ways, progress was going to be fatal to Thiopa. And we said so. In fact, we screamed as loud as we could.”

  “Apparently, no one listened.”

  “Not until the Advanced Energy Institute place blew up one morning. The head of the Science Council was a little burrowskratt named Buvo Osrai. He always told Stross what the protector wanted to hear, the truth be damned. Never told him that we had to stop plundering our own world—and had to stop the Nuarans from doing it, too. Osrai and the other ten Science Council members were down there at the AEI when it went. They were all killed, along with a hundred other people; an additional three hundred were badly hurt.” Keat poked the hatch release and the canopy opened. They got out of the vehicle, and Data followed Dr. Keat to the forbidding barricade. “There was a huge panic. Stross remembered how I’d been the most adamant warning alarm, and he shoved me into Osrai’s job. He told me I could appoint a whole new council, and he swore he wanted the truth from then on.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I shook like a scared baby—and then I grabbed the opportunity of a lifetime. I had the chance to build a whole new science establishment and do it right.”

  “Were you successful?”

  She flashed an enigmatic smile. “It’s still too early to tell. We’re just now discovering all the sins that were committed by the scientists who died in that building. But I’m the one who finally made Stross understand that we were destroying Thiopa with the technology we learned from the Nuarans, the blood suckers of the galaxy. I told Stross he had to cut our ties with those bastards and beg the Federation for help. Which is why your ship’s here.”

  “Is this weather control project one of your ideas?”

  “Mm-hmm. I thought it was the right time for something bold and outlandish. Stross liked the sound of it, and that’s all we needed to get the funding.” They returned to the vehicle and headed back toward Science Council headquarters.

  Data continued conversing about the weather control plan. “From what we were able to observe from orbit, the damage to Thiopa’s ecology appears quite severe.”

  “Oh, it looks pretty severe from inside the damage zone, too, believe me, Commander.”

  “I studied all available reports on similar attempts on other planets.”

  “Did you? I would love to see those. We don’t have access to all the data you’d have in your ship’s computers. Do you think your captain would allow that?”

  “I shall relay your request. But you may find those files dismaying. No planet has successfully accomplished what you have set out to do.”

  “Oh, it’s complicated—no doubt about that. But we’ve got some fresh approaches in mind. My attitude is, everything that’s been done was once considered impossible. But somebody had to be desperate enough to try it first. And you said yourself that we’re pretty desperate here on Thiopa.”

  “Would it be possible for me to examine your detailed proposal and see some of the actual work you have done?”

  “Some of it, yes, but a lot of it is classified. I’m
sure you can understand that.”

  “Completely. But I am always interested in innovation.”

  When they arrived at the Science Council, Dr. Keat took her visitor up to her office, which had not a book, paper, or computer cassette out of place. “I’m quite fastidious,” she admitted. “I drive some of the others crazy when I go into their labs and offices and start tidying up and putting away. There’s one guy who loves piles, and damned if he doesn’t know exactly where everything is. But I can’t work that way.”

  She guided Data to a computer terminal, which she blocked from certain secret memory files. “Present Commander Data with the original weather control proposal.”

  The system obliged, and Data skimmed material that was dense with equations and diagrams at a speed that startled Dr. Keat. “Can’t your system scan any more rapidly?” he asked.

  “I’m afraid not.”

  He swiveled the chair to face her. “You are planning a planetary net of four hundred satellites?”

  “That’s right. We’ll be using a variety of electromagnetic radiation to produce and manipulate magnetic fields as well as raising or lowering atmospheric and oceanic temperatures.”

  “Yes, I could see that. But in addition to the actual launching and maintenance of so many satellites, your network will require large amounts of energy and will have to be controlled by a complex and infinitely adjustable computer program.”

  “Quite true, Commander Data. How we’ve mastered those obstacles . . . well, that’s the part I can’t reveal to you. Not now, at any rate.”

  Data’s head tilted. “When?”

  The enigmatic half-smile curled the corners of Keat’s mouth again. “That will depend on how strong an alliance is formed between Thiopa and the Federation. We’re more inclined to reveal secrets to close friends.”

  “Enterprise to Commander Data.” Captain Picard’s voice issued from Data’s uniform communicator.

  He touched the chest insignia to reply. “Data here, sir.”

  “Commander Riker is preparing to beam down with Mr. Undrun. I’d like you to return to the ship. In view of recent events, I’d like to minimize the number of senior personnel down there at any one time.”