“I don’t know what that is,” Odo said.
“It’s a small moon that orbits a planet outside its rings or in a gap between them,” Sisko explained. “Its gravitational field helps to define the edges of the rings.”
“And you think that’s our destination?” Odo asked.
Sisko checked the navigation panel. “Right now,” he said, “that’s where we’re headed.”
Fifteen minutes later, the tractor beam pulled the shuttlecraft into a crater on the surface of the shepherd moon.
THE TURBOLIFT DESCENDED a considerable distance before slowing. When its doors finally opened, they revealed a long corridor that, unlike the complex above, did not appear to be of Starfleet design. Odo thought it more resembled a medical facility, with its unadorned metal surfaces and tile floors.
Not a medical facility, Odo thought. A laboratory. He had certainly spent enough years in such places to know.
As he exited the turbolift, a woman stepped forward. She stood about a meter and five-eighths, and had fiery red hair that tumbled down past her shoulders in waves. She wore a white lab coat, open over civilian clothes—black slacks and an aquamarine blouse. While she appeared human, Odo would not make such a presumption.
The woman smiled and opened her hands in greeting, though she made no move to shake his hand. “Mister Odo, thank you so much for agreeing to meet with us,” she said. “I’m Doctor Norsa. Welcome to Newton Outpost.”
Norsa, Odo thought. Not a human name . . . Argelian, maybe. “Thank you, and please just call me Odo.” He didn’t care much for being addressed with humanoid honorifics. Depending on the situation, he allowed some people to do so, but when he met somebody for the first time, he often tried to stop them. He’d made the mistake of not objecting when he’d initially been called constable, and he’d been encumbered with that title for years.
Norsa peered past Odo and into the turbolift. “Thank you, Commander,” she said.
Lieutenant Commander Selten had escorted Odo down from the upper level of the complex. The security chief met the Robinson shuttlecraft when it set down on the shepherd moon, inside a hangar concealed beneath the shadows at the bottom of a crater. Selten confirmed Captain Sisko’s identity via both fingerprint and retina scans, and he verified Odo’s status as a Changeling by drawing a sample of his faux blood.
Despite taking such pains to identify the two visitors to the outpost, Selten had denied Sisko permission to leave the hangar and enter the facility, since he had no business there other than to deliver Odo. The captain took no exception to the rigid security procedures. Indeed, he seemed quite satisfied to depart at once.
Odo had thanked Sisko, and then he’d watched as the hatches that formed the roof of the hangar and the floor of the crater parted to allow Comet to return to space. After turning over management of the Robinson shuttlecraft’s departure to another member of his staff, Selten accompanied Odo into an installation recognizably Starfleet, even beyond the personnel stationed there. They passed through a series of checkpoints in a heavily fortified structure. Along the way, Selten said little and kept a stoic demeanor, though Odo could not tell if he did so because he was a Vulcan or because he was a security chief.
Down inside the facility, Selten said, “You’re welcome, Doctor.” He touched a control and the turbolift doors closed, leaving Odo alone in the corridor with Norsa.
“I know that you’ve come a long way from Deep Space Nine, so you must be tired,” she said. “I can show you to the quarters we’ve prepared for you.” She glanced down, first at Odo’s hands and then at his feet, and he realized that she must be looking for whatever belongings he had brought with him.
“Actually, I regenerated in my cabin onboard the Robinson not that long ago,” Odo said. “I also did not bring anything with me.”
“No, of course, you didn’t,” Norsa said, flustering. “You’re a Changeling; you must have few material needs.” When Odo said nothing, the woman pressed on. “Forgive me, Odo. I did not mean to offend you in any way. We get very few visitors here, and so I think my manners may be a bit off. Frankly, as a research scientist, I’m not sure that I’m all that well socialized in the first place.” She offered a weak smile that seemed equal parts humor and discomfort. “Also, to my knowledge, I have never before met a shape-shifter.”
“You haven’t offended me,” Odo said. “May I ask: what is your position here?”
Norsa shook her head and rolled her eyes. “See: not properly socialized. My official titles are head of biological research and chief of staff. Technically, I run this place.”
“Technically?”
“Yes, because we’re all scientists down here, so we primarily operate by consensus,” she said. “Also, I think Commander Selten and the rest of the Starfleet personnel up above believe that they’re in charge.”
“You’re not in Starfleet, then?”
“Newton Outpost falls under the jurisdiction of the Federation Department of Science, but this facility is run as a cooperative venture with Starfleet.” Norsa looked over her shoulder, down the corridor, and said, “If you don’t need to rest, and if there’s nothing else I can provide you with right now, would you like to meet some of the other scientists working on this project?”
Norsa’s reference to the possible shape-shifter as a function of her research rankled Odo. “If you don’t mind, I would be more interested to meet the ‘project.’ ”
Odo’s repeating of Norsa’s impersonal word seemed to shock her. “I’ve offended you again,” she said, although she did not sound apologetic. “I’m sorry if that’s the case, Odo, but I want you to understand some things. First of all, the majority of the scientists here believe that there is virtually no chance that the specimen collected by the Nova crew is alive, and only a slightly better chance that it ever was. Secondly, we asked that you be invited to assist us in making that determination because, in the unlikely event that the specimen is alive, we do not wish to risk harming it or causing it pain. We are aware of what you endured at the hands of Doctor Mora, and we don’t want to make the same mistakes that he did. So while you can take offense at my reference to the possible shape-shifter as our ‘project’ or as a ‘specimen,’ doing so contributes nothing to our efforts here, and may even prove counterproductive. I think we all have the same goals, so perhaps it would be helpful if we behaved as though we were on the same side.”
“I can assure you that I am on no side but that of justice,” Odo said. “And the truth is that I don’t know what your goals are, so I can’t tell you if they’re the same as mine.”
Norsa nodded. “That’s true,” she said. “As a research scientist, my goal is always the pursuit of knowledge. That’s all it is here. The Nova crew found something out in the universe and we want to know what it is. If we find that it’s a life-form, then is it alive? If it’s alive, then is it intelligent? Can we communicate with it? If it’s no longer alive, then how did it die? How did it live? Are there more of them out there? And if it’s not a life-form, what is it?”
“You have more questions than I do,” Odo said. “I have been searching for more of my people, and I have come here in the hopes of finding one. Short of that, if it is not a Changeling but it is a shape-shifter of some kind, I am interested in helping communicate with it for the reasons you mentioned: to avoid it coming to harm or experiencing unnecessary pain.”
“Then I’d say we have enough of our goals in common to work together,” Norsa told him. “And to avoid being offended by each other.”
Odo recognized the peace offering. “You are perhaps not the only one not well socialized,” he said, and though he’d intended the statement as a droll means of easing the tension, he realized its verity. “I have become accustomed to experiencing a certain . . . casual disregard . . . when I am among humanoids—a point of view centered on their immutable form.”
“I think
I understand that,” Norsa said. “I mean, I can understand why humanoids would behave in such a way—after all, we cannot alter our forms at will—but I also see how such perspectives, when ignorant of your own, would be difficult for you to deal with.” She paused, then said, “Shall we begin again?”
“Please.”
“May I show you the specimen?” she asked. “And after you’ve seen it, I will introduce you to the other scientists studying the potential shape-shifter.”
“Thank you.”
Norsa motioned down the corridor, and the two started away from the turbolift. The soft soles of Norsa’s shoes made only a faint sound on the tiles. Odo moved in silence, adjusting the density of his feet as he moved in order to absorb their impact on the floor without generating any noise. He had developed the ability long ago, and had refined it in his dealings with Quark, whose impressively sensitive ears provided the Changeling a challenge.
He walked the length of the corridor with Norsa. He saw no doors, ports, or openings of any kind in either of the lateral bulkheads. The bright lighting panels overhead lent the area a stark, antiseptic quality.
The corridor ended at a large, imposing metal door. Norsa activated a panel beside it, keyed in a code, then underwent fingerprint and retina scans. The door issued a series of metallic clicks and clangs before ultimately withdrawing into the bulkhead. It looked as thick as the hull of a starship.
They entered a square room as uninviting as the corridor they’d just left. As the metal door sealed itself closed behind them, Odo saw two smaller, standard doors in each of the bulkheads to his left and right, and two on either side of another large metal door directly ahead. Atop control panels beside each door, small signs provided only the simplistic labels CORRIDOR 1 through CORRIDOR 7.
“Our offices are down Corridor Six, and our quarters and living areas are down Corridor Seven,” Norsa said, pointing to her right. “All of the others lead to laboratories and support facilities. We’ll be heading to Corridor Four.” She gestured forward, then moved to the center door in the wall ahead of them, where she again went through an identification process to gain access.
Once inside, Odo saw another long corridor, broader than the last. On both sides, doors alternated with wide transparent panels. Lights of various colors and intensities spilled through some of the ports, interrupting the more subdued illumination of the corridor.
“This is where we keep foreign objects brought to the outpost for study,” Norsa said. “These first two doors—” She pointed to both sides of the corridor. “—lead to storage rooms for environmental suits and other equipment. The other doors open into decontamination chambers, which can also function as airlocks, in cases where we need to maintain an object in a vacuum. The decon chambers allow access into our specimen compartments, which are visible through the viewports.”
They began walking, and as they passed the ports, Odo saw consoles below them, doubtless to control the environment within the compartments. Through the first port, he saw a tall C-shaped bracket, with vibrating streaks of white light emanating from each tip and ending at a cubic object hanging suspended between them. In another compartment stood a stone obelisk, its visible fascia covered in faded runes. A third contained a metallic disc, no more than half a meter across. It turned out that most of the compartments sat dark, and even some of the others appeared empty.
Odo kept waiting to see what he hoped to recognize as one of his own kind—whether a Changeling or some other form of shape-shifter. He also realized that he knew very little about it. President Bacco had been sparing with details when she had offered him the opportunity to visit Newton Outpost.
“Where was the possible shape-shifter found?” Odo asked.
“The Nova crew were surveying a star system called Capricorn Arday,” Norsa said.
“They were on a survey mission and just happened to run across it?”
“They had been led there by evidence of a massive burst of energy within the system,” Norsa said. “Once there, the Nova crew were unable to determine either the source or the cause of their readings, but they did detect some subspace anomalies, which they traced to an asteroid belt.”
“The possible shape-shifter was found on an asteroid?” That seemed suspicious to Odo, though he could not quite say why.
“Yes,” Norsa said. “When they were studying the abnormal subspace readings, their sensors had difficulty identifying the material making up a part of the surface of a particular asteroid. They attempted to beam a sample up to the ship for analysis, but were unable to establish a transporter lock.”
The information confused Odo. “Shape-shifters are not impervious to transporter beams,” he said, although he subsequently wondered if he could recast his own composition in some way to accomplish such a feat. As they passed another port, he saw a crescent-shaped net suspended in midair.
“The Nova crew opted to beam two of their scientists over to the asteroid in environmental suits, in the hopes that they could collect a sample,” Norsa went on. “They found the material firm but malleable, as though in a state between solid and liquid.”
“That certainly doesn’t sound like a deceased Changeling,” Odo said. When one of his people perished, their physical form essentially turned to dust. Concentrating on his conversation with Norsa, Odo no longer peered through the ports they passed.
“They didn’t know what it was, so they attempted to collect a part of it as a sample, but were unable to separate even the smallest portion from the whole.”
Odo’s hope dimmed. Most of what Norsa had told him did not correspond to the characteristics of his people. “So because they couldn’t take a piece of what they found, they took all of it.”
“That’s right,” Norsa said. “They managed to pull it from the surface of the asteroid using several tractor beams.”
“Several tractor beams?”
“Yes,” Norsa said. “They found the specimen curved around the asteroid, almost as though gripping it, and they determined that they needed to draw it away in multiple places in order to remove it. They used the starship and several of its auxiliary craft, and conveyed it into the Nova’s hangar bay. There, they performed additional testing. They succeeded in analyzing some cellular material, which they discovered contained encoding very similar to your own morphogenic matrix.”
“Then it is a shape-shifter,” Odo concluded.
“Or was, maybe,” Norsa said. “We’re not sure. The matrix does not completely match that of the Changelings, and it also appears that it may be incomplete. We think it more likely that, if the specimen was a living being, it marked an evolutionary stage short of your own people’s.”
“I see,” Odo said.
Ahead of them, the corridor ended at an intersection. When they reached it, Odo saw that two other corridors marched away to the left and right, and a set of steps rose directly ahead. Norsa began up the steps.
“This way.” As Odo followed, she said, “We are keeping the possible shape-shifter in our largest storage compartment. It was not initially of sufficient size, and it took an urgent, round-the-clock effort by the Corps of Engineers to expand it.”
“Not large enough?” Odo said, surprised. Perhaps the Nova crew had run across not one shape-shifter, but many, locked together in a version of the Great Link. “How big is the potential Changeling?”
“Big,” Norsa said as they reached the top of the stairs. She pointed directly ahead.
Odo moved to the viewing port there—just one of many extending away in both directions. He found himself looking down into a compartment at least ten meters in depth. It reached perhaps twice that measure in width, and he could not tell how far into the distance it went—at least fifty meters, he estimated, perhaps more.
Whatever the Nova crew had found, it easily filled the footprint of the space it occupied. It resembled a great mass of silvern meta
l that had been melted, spilled, and then resolidified as it spattered. Perhaps as high as a meter or two, its surface rose and fell in motionless waves, like the surface of a lake that has been flash frozen. Its color did not resemble the golden-orange hues of his own people in their natural state, but it also made no sense to entirely judge a shape-shifter by its appearance. It had rounded but irregular contours, and appeared asymmetric. The main portion of its form held a slight curve to it, and Odo imagined it hugging tightly to the asteroid on which it had been found.
Hugging tightly would imply purpose, he thought, but then realized that, rather than intention, it could have been reflex. Plants bent toward sunlight, but that did not make them sentient. Perhaps Norsa was correct in suggesting an intermediary evolutionary step.
“Have you tried to communicate with it?” Odo wanted to know.
“In various and very rudimentary ways,” Norsa said. “Flashing the lights in a mathematical sequence, using notes on a scale, that sort of thing. We’ve seen no reaction.”
“There are a number of more involved techniques we might try,” Odo said, thinking that, in the end, nothing would tell him more than attempting to link with the huge mass.
“That’s why we asked for you to join us, Odo,” Norsa said. “We believed that you could help.”
“I’m sure I can,” Odo said. One way or another, he would help them identify what the Nova crew had brought to Newton Outpost.
“I think the next thing we should do is sit down with the project team,” Norsa said, “so that they can detail for you all of our efforts with the specimen—not just in trying to communicate with it, but also in our overall analysis.”
“Yes,” Odo said. “Yes, that would be a good place to start.”
“Excellent,” Norsa said. “Knowing that you would be arriving today, all of the scientists involved carved time out of their schedules to meet with you. Let’s head back to a conference room and I’ll gather them together.” Norsa started down the steps.
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