by Dayton Ward
Unable to nod, Data simply replied, “It was not my intention to sully that promise, First Minister. I have limited my research to methods that can only assist your own efforts, not supplant them.”
“We should at least hear what he has to say, Hjatyn,” said Creij, the Dokaalan science minister. She was sitting straighter in her chair now, leaning forward and gazing intently on Data. “Surely there is no harm in that?”
After receiving approval from Picard to proceed, Data said, “Computer, execute program Data Alpha and display it on this viewscreen.” There was a pause as the computer carried out the instructions, and when the image on the viewer shifted, the captain saw what he recognized to be a computer model of the planet Ijuuka.
“The terraforming process being employed by the Dokaalan is based on the introduction of several different chemical compounds into the planet’s existing atmosphere,” Data said as the world represented on the screen, shrouded in what looked to be a dense blanket of brownish gray clouds, rotated slowly on its axis. “According to the computer models in use at the various atmospheric processors around the planet, the project is proceeding without significant incident. As we know, however, it is an endeavor that has been under way for decades and it will take generations to complete at its current pace.”
“But you’ve found a way to speed things up?” Troi asked from where she stood to his right.
“That is essentially correct, Counselor. I believe that by introducing another substance into the atmosphere, one that is not indigenous to either Ijuuka or anywhere else in this system, we may be able to drastically accelerate the transformation process. Instead of requiring decades to complete, only a handful of years would pass with the use of this new strategy, after which Ijuuka would be all but ready for colonization by the Dokaalan.”
Leaning forward in his chair, Picard said, “What substance are you referring to, Mr. Data?”
“Phylocite,” the android replied.
“I can’t say I’ve ever heard of that one,” Riker said.
Data turned his attention to the first officer. “It is an artificially engineered element developed as a means of combating a viral plague that nearly decimated the population of the planet Phylos in the mid twenty-third century.”
“Their life-forms share many characteristics with that of plant life, as I recall,” Picard added. “I’m familiar with this incident. The plague wreaked havoc on their entire ecosystem and nearly all of the planet life, which in this case also included a large segment of the Phylosian population.”
Nodding, Data replied, “That is correct, sir. Though not originally intended as an aid for terraforming, it was later discovered that many of phylocite’s characteristics held much in common with what were at that time leading terraforming practices. It was not until the early twenty-fourth century and lessons learned from the Genesis Project and other experiments in the field that the properties of the phylocite element were further refined. Though used with great success in several terraforming projects, in recent years it has been replaced as more advanced techniques have become more commonplace.”
From the other side of the conference table, Hjatyn said, “Yet you believe this substance can be useful for our needs here?”
The android replied, “I do, sir. In the computer simulations I have conducted, it has proven to be the one element most capable of safely advancing the chemical conversion process currently under way in Ijuuka’s atmosphere. The use of phylocite as an accelerant produced no ill effects in any of the simulations.”
“I do not understand,” Hjatyn said. “As you have already stated, the transformation process is a lengthy one. Even if this acceleration idea of yours has merit, how do you propose introducing this…substance you speak of into the atmosphere?”
By way of reply, Data said, “Computer, display the current program’s seventh graphic.” A second later, the image on the viewscreen shifted to show dozens of points of blue light moving over the computer-generated model of Ijuuka, assuming what Picard recognized as equidistant positions in high orbit above the planet.
“It is my belief that a synchronized detonation of twenty-six quantum torpedoes will be sufficient. Each can be equipped with a warhead composed of phylocite and delivered to locations plotted to cover as much of the atmosphere as possible while providing an overlapping effect that ensures against gaps in the coverage.” On the viewscreen, Picard watched as the group of blue orbs moved closer to the planet and then flashed in unison. An instant later a blue field began to spread outward from each point, expanding until the entire planet was covered by the effect.
“How long will this process take, Commander?” he asked.
Turning his chair until he could look directly at the captain, Data replied, “After detonation, the spread of phylocite throughout the atmosphere will take approximately seven point four days. The initial chemical reactions will begin almost immediately, but the process is intended to continue in concert with the Dokaalan’s own terraforming procedures for the next several years. Based on computer projections, the time required for the transformation of the atmosphere into one usable by the Dokaalan people will be reduced by sixty-seven point five percent.”
Picard said nothing, instead turning in his chair to study the reactions of the Dokaalan delegation seated around the conference table. Creij, true to her nature as a scientist, seemed both excited and skeptical at the proposal Data had just presented. Conversely, the captain could see that Nidan was taking the appropriate stance as a sworn defender of the Dokaalan’s security, his expression doubtful touched with an air of suspicion. Hjatyn, the one to whom the others would be looking for confidence and certainty, was nodding thoughtfully as he studied the viewscreen.
“While I cannot say I am entirely convinced by your findings, Commander,” Creij said, “I would welcome the opportunity to discuss it with you in greater detail.”
“Certainly, Minister,” Data replied. “With Captain Picard’s permission, I am at your disposal.”
Turning in her seat until she faced Hjatyn, the science minister said, “But if this procedure is sound, we should consider employing it.”
“Detonating so many weapons in the planet’s atmosphere without any negative effects?” Nidan asked, his voice neutral. “Forgive me, Captain Picard, but I have trouble accepting that.”
Picard nodded. “I understand your concerns, Minister Nidan, but the quantum torpedoes Commander Data speaks of are designed to be configured for a variety of uses that are not offensive or destructive in nature. They are routinely used to deliver similar payloads into all manner of stellar phenomena for scientific research. If the decision is made to go forward with this plan, you would all be invited to examine the devices and be present at all phases of the operation.” Turning to Data, the captain asked, “Would it be possible to arrange some form of demonstration, Commander?”
“Yes, Captain,” the android replied. “It will require time to replicate the necessary quantities of phylocite and load it into the torpedoes, during which time I will have ample opportunity to answer any remaining questions or concerns.”
From where he sat at the conference table, Hjatyn nodded slowly before a small smile crept onto his aged features. “Such a remarkable being you are, Commander. Despite your condition, you have still managed to bring this gift to us.” Pausing a moment, the elderly leader bowed his head as if in thought before returning his attention to Picard.
“Captain, one of my primary duties since accepting the role of First Minister has been to ensure that the will and vision of my people is preserved as we move forward into this new stage of our society. The remaking of Ijuuka has been fueled by the knowledge that we were creating a monument to those lost as well as a home for those left behind.”
Rising from his chair, Hjatyn politely declined the offer of assistance from Picard as he stood up and shuffled his way around the conference table to where Data sat. Placing one hand on the android’s shoulder, the Dokaa
lan said, “I know that I have been most zealous in maintaining that edict in the face of all that you have offered to us, but now I find myself questioning my earlier conviction. One of the greatest obstacles facing the remaking process is the time required. Many who were present when the work began have since passed on, just as many who are involved now will be gone before its completion. It can be discouraging. Your suggestion offers me the option of honoring the spirit of our pledge while still allowing us to complete the labor ourselves.” Looking to Data, he added, “Conduct your tests, Commander. I am most interested to see if what you propose is possible.”
Picard made no effort to quell the feeling of satisfaction that washed over him at the minister’s words. He had suspected that Hjatyn might decline this offer of assistance just as he had all the others, including the option of Federation-aided relocation to a suitable planet for the Dokaalan people. It would have been disappointing to have to accept that decision, but in the end the choice was the Dokaalan’s to make, after all.
That Hjatyn had instead accepted this latest idea buoyed the captain’s spirits. For the first time since arriving in the Dokaalan system, Picard was finally beginning to feel as though they had a true purpose for being here. So positive was his reaction to this latest development that he even noted Counselor Troi turning in her seat, smiling in his direction as her empathic abilities registered the positive change in his emotional state. Bowing his head formally, he allowed a small smile to play at his lips as he acknowledged her.
Still, he noted that the counselor’s own expression was not entirely free of concern. Had her Betazoid senses picked up something else from the Dokaalan leaders during the course of the meeting? She did not seem terribly alarmed, but Picard had long ago become accustomed to even the slightest changes in the body language of his officers. She definitely had something to tell him, he decided, but was waiting for a more appropriate time to bring it to his attention.
Refocusing his attention on the matter at hand, Picard turned to Data. “Make it so, Commander.”
“Thank you, sir,” Data replied as he began to maneuver his chair toward the exit. He stopped at the sound of the ship’s intercom coming to life with the voice of Lieutenant Vale.
“Bridge to Captain Picard,” the security chief said. “Sir, we’ve received a message from the Dokaalan Security Ministry. They wish to speak to Minister Nidan, but they also inform us that Commander La Forge’s shuttlecraft left Ijuuka this morning. They were under the impression that he was returning to the Enterprise.”
The fulfillment Picard felt at the progress made here began to evaporate in the face of Vale’s report. If the report from Ijuuka was accurate, the shuttle carrying La Forge, Lieutenant Taurik, and a Dokaalan engineer whose name the captain could not remember just now had been missing for more than ten hours. He was not comforted by the images conjured by this development. Had the shuttle experienced some kind of malfunction? Had they crashed into or onto one of the countless asteroids they would have had to navigate in order to return to the ship?
What if their having gone missing was not an accident at all?
“Number One,” he said, turning to Riker, “coordinate a search operation with Lieutenant Vale. Start with the planet and work out from there. I want all of our remaining shuttles out looking for them.” With their sensor ability inhibited by the radiation field, they would have to rely on this more rudimentary yet admittedly less effective search measure.
“Aye, sir,” Riker said, already rising from his seat and heading for the bridge with Counselor Troi following after him.
“I am most disturbed by this report,” Hjatyn said, returning to his place next to Picard, “and I must admit to feeling somewhat responsible for what has happened. If your people have encountered some difficulty, they have done so while they were our guests. May we assist in your search efforts somehow?”
For a moment Picard considered declining the offer, but to do so might invite suspicion if there was indeed something untoward happening in the shadows here. What if La Forge and Taurik had found something suspicious on Ijuuka? Could it be related to the disaster that had befallen Mining Station Twelve? Would Hjatyn or any of his leaders know about it? Even if none of them were involved, excluding them from any search efforts might alert those actually responsible for the acts of sabotage. Picard decided he could not afford that now, not while he was still lacking so much critical information.
“We welcome any help you are able to provide, First Minister,” he replied, forcing his most diplomatic smile onto his face and trying to keep his own misgivings at bay.
As the meeting ended and Hjatyn and his party departed for the docking bay, Picard was left alone in the observation lounge with nothing to do for the moment except wonder about the fate of his wayward officers. It was not the first time an away team had gone missing, of course, but each time it happened it caused a knot of worry to form in his stomach. It would remain there until the fate of La Forge and Taurik was known.
Stopping before the row of viewing ports that formed the room’s back wall, he once again beheld the dense asteroid field surrounding the Enterprise, illogically looking for a small, errant shuttlecraft to appear from the debris and put his unease to rest.
Naturally, it did no such thing.
“Damn,” Picard said, though there was no one to hear him.
Chapter Nine
ON THE SEVERAL OCCASIONS that he had been taken hostage during his Starfleet career, Geordi La Forge had been thrown into all manner of prison cells, brigs, and various rooms and shipboard compartments converted for such purposes. He therefore considered himself at least somewhat of an informed authority on what it was like to be detained by a hostile party.
Comparatively speaking, the space he and Taurik found themselves in now was an utter pit.
“I see they spared no expense with our accommodations,” La Forge said as he paced the length of the room, which he had already measured to be five steps.
From where he sat on one of two makeshift cots provided for the engineers, Taurik said, “From my observations, this room offers little variation from other such areas within this facility.”
Unsure as to whether this might be one of the occasions where the Vulcan offered one of his deadpan comments, La Forge nevertheless allowed himself a humorless chuckle. His friend did have a point, in that like every other compartment he had seen on the mining outpost, this one had been built with efficiency rather than comfort in mind. The walls, floor, and ceiling were bare metal plating formed from uniform sections, which the engineer surmised was part of an overall methodology used throughout the colonies. It made sense to construct habitats and other buildings from materials that could in turn be easily employed anywhere else they might be needed with minimal conversion or adaptation requirements.
The room La Forge and Taurik had been confined to was cool though not uncomfortable, with illumination offered by a pair of lighting panels set into the ceiling. Other than the two cots, there were no other furnishings. A small enclosure in the room’s far corner, little bigger than a cargo container, housed the room’s sparse lavatory.
“Be it ever so humble, I guess,” La Forge muttered, returning to his own cot and propping himself up against the wall. The bed’s thin mattress did little to protect his body from the cot’s metal frame, and a casual feel of the single blanket he had been given added fuel to his suspicions that sleeping here would be anything but pleasant.
It beats being dead.
The bitter reminder pushed to the front of the engineer’s thoughts, along with the image of Faeyahr’s murder at the hands of the Dokaalan who had captured them on the asteroid. It had been unnecessary, as neither he nor the engineers had posed any threat. Their captors had done it merely to show the Enterprise officers that they were willing to go to any lengths in pursuit of their goal, whatever that might be.
Following their capture, the engineers were loaded into the two skiffs and brought to one of th
e dozens of mining colonies scattered throughout the asteroid field. La Forge had not been able to ascertain their location, or where they were in relation to the Dokaalan’s central habitat or the Enterprise, despite his best efforts. Upon their arrival here, the Starfleet officers’ environmental suits and other equipment had been confiscated, leaving each of them with nothing but their boots and the standard-issue one-piece garment each of them had been wearing underneath his suit.
“I wonder if we got close enough to the ship for them to pick us up on sensors,” La Forge wondered aloud as he adjusted his sitting position on the cot in a futile attempt to get more comfortable.
Seated on the edge of his own cot, back straight, both feet flat on the floor and with his hands held clasped before him in what La Forge recognized as a meditative posture, Taurik replied, “I was unable to ascertain their location before we crashed, but the asteroid field’s background radiation was interfering with our own sensors as well. The sensors on the Enterprise are more powerful, so there is a possibility they may have detected us.”
“Even if they didn’t,” La Forge said, “they’ll start wondering where we are in a few hours. I figure the captain will have search parties out looking for us before the next shift change.” As he spoke the words, he hoped they sounded more optimistic to Taurik than they did to him.
Trying to ignore the crossbeam from the cot’s bed frame that was digging rather rudely into the back of his thigh, he asked, “Any thoughts on why they’re keeping us here?” Neither the Dokaalan who had captured them nor those who had taken custody of them upon their arrival here had been forthcoming with any sort of useful information. With what appeared to be plenty of time on his hands, the chief engineer saw no harm in speculating a bit.