by Dayton Ward
Picard’s next act was to visit two of the refugee camps situated outside Lor’Vela. The Andorian government had undertaken commendable effort to make the camps’ inhabitants as comfortable as possible, and their continuing initiatives to relocate refugees to permanent accommodations within the new capital city or at other sites around the planet had garnered notice from the state leaders of worlds across the Federation. Despite the progress that had been made, and though the conditions at the camps were far better than similar facilities on other planets still besieged by thousands of survivors, Picard knew that there remained much work to do. His schedule during the past few days had been dominated by meetings, the topics revolving around the current need for personnel and resources to continue the rebuilding efforts, as well as briefings and updates with respect to the conference’s ongoing preparations. With all that out of the way, Beverly had advocated a brief rest period, suggesting he take up Presider sh’Thalis’s offer to visit this archeological site over which so much fuss had been made.
Following zh’Yemre, they made their way to the center of the compound, around which the buildings were organized in a roughly circular pattern. Picard now saw that several of the buildings actually were constructed from multiple modular components fitted together, no doubt in order to expand the amount of usable interior space. He noted that each structure featured a ground-level entrance that faced inward, toward the “courtyard.” On the wall near each door was text printed in native Andorii script, which Picard could not read. As though sensing his minor plight, Ensign sh’Anbi stepped up to stand beside him.
“It looks as though half the buildings are living quarters,” she said, “with the other half devoted to equipment and supply storage, an infirmary, a dining facility, and a lab for examining artifacts retrieved from the site.”
Hearing the conversation, zh’Yemre turned to face them. “Professor ch’Galoniq has an office in the lab building. It doubles as the command post here at the site.” She gestured to indicate the camp. “As you can see, we keep things simple here, endeavoring to limit our footprint to the absolute minimum so as not to disturb the environment too greatly. At some point, we’ll have to move the camp to another location, as this area likely will be excavated.”
“The find is that big?” McClowan asked, her tone betraying her barely harnessed curiosity. “I’m sorry, it’s just that reports we were given about this site were pretty vague.”
Zh’Yemre nodded. “And with good reason, I assure you. Until we’re ready to share what we’ve found, we’d prefer not to have too many people making their way up here and disturbing the site. It won’t be long before we’re ready to share it with everyone.” She smiled as she waved again, this time to indicate the surrounding terrain. “If what we’ve already found is any indication, it’s larger than anything we’ve ever seen.” She then smiled. “Of course, if I tell you any more, Professor ch’Galoniq will get upset. When he gets upset, he threatens to throw people off the mountain, and it’s already been me three times this trip.” Turning, she started walking toward one of the smaller buildings. “His office is this way, Captain.”
It took only a moment to reach the structure, and they stepped through the entrance into a small vestibule, which Picard recognized as a sort of airlock, though in this case it was designed to ease the transition from the frigid outdoors to the warmer environs within the building. With the five of them inside and the exterior door shut, zh’Yemre keyed the control to open the inner door, and Picard caught the wave of warm air washing over him. Reaching up, he pushed back his hood and removed his goggles before undoing the parka’s fasteners and opening the garment, relishing the change in temperature.
“Very cozy,” he commented, allowing himself a small, wry grin.
The room in which he found himself was designed for functionality, with rows of storage nooks along the walls to his left and right. Various items of cold-weather clothing hung on hooks and racks mounted wherever something else did not block wall space. Zh’Yemre indicated nooks to Picard’s right. “You can store your gear there for now. The shelter’s interior climate is very comfortable.”
As Picard and his team were shrugging out of their parkas, the door at the room’s far end slid aside, revealing an older Andorian. Though his body was lean, his face seemed to Picard a bit puffy around the mouth and eyes. His white hair, long and unkempt, hung freely past his shoulders. When he smiled, his entire face seemed to be pushed aside by a mouthful of large, gleaming white teeth.
“Captain Picard?” the Andorian asked, stepping forward. “I’m Professor Nisra ch’Galoniq, leader of this expedition. I was informed by Presider sh’Thalis’s office to expect you. It’s an honor to have you here. Welcome!”
“It’s a pleasure to be here, Professor,” Picard replied, before introducing the rest of his away team. “I’m told by the presider that you have something rather remarkable to share with us.”
As impossible as it might have seemed to the captain, ch’Galoniq’s smile grew even wider as he nodded with no small amount of enthusiasm. “Indeed. We’ve had our share of visitors from various universities and museums around the world.” He paused, casting a gaze downward. “Those that survived, of course.” Then, as though shaking off the momentary melancholy, he said, “It’s created quite a stir among the science community, though we’ve managed so far to keep it to ourselves and off the newsnets. I imagine we’ll have all the attention we can handle once we make our discoveries public.”
Stepping forward after storing her cold-weather gear in one of the unused nooks, McClowan adjusted the strap of her utility satchel. “Professor, are you saying this is a classified operation?”
“No, no,” ch’Galoniq replied, shaking his head. “Nothing like that. It’s just that considering the size of the find, and that we still don’t know how big it actually is, we’re working to determine the true scope of the site so that we can protect it from the curious.” He paused again, adding in a lower voice, “Well intentioned or otherwise.”
Picard asked, “You’re concerned about profiteers?”
“Exactly,” the professor answered, “and not just those native to our planet. I’m well aware of the black markets that have sprung up along the various trade routes through Federation space as well as the nonaligned worlds. Opportunists of every stripe are taking advantage of our current plight. It’s shameful.”
Picard nodded. According to one of his intelligence briefings, the Typhon Pact was even believed to be behind some of the activities, as well. “People deal with adversity in different ways,” he said. “To go from living without want or need to standing in line to receive the very basic necessities for simple survival cannot help but be traumatic.”
Still, having read more than a few reports detailing problems such as that hinted at by ch’Galoniq, Picard could sympathize with the professor. Plundering and looting had been a concern, particularly in the days and weeks immediately following the war, as governments at every level on those worlds spared from destruction welcomed hordes of survivors into their embrace, doing what they could to ease the pain and suffering of those who had endured so much. Martial law had been commonplace early on and still was in effect on some planets, and there had been uncounted reports of thefts from private homes and businesses as well as burial places, religious institutions, and even hospitals. No one was immune from such crimes, and though Picard felt that much of this activity was the result of people simply doing what they thought was necessary to survive, he knew that others were motivated by far less honorable agendas. It had taken authorities more than a bit of time to adjust to what should have been a predictable outgrowth of the chaos into which a normally peaceful, ordered society had been thrown.
“I know,” ch’Galoniq said, “just as I know that with all the problems we’re facing, an archeology field trip seems like a waste of time and resources. But, Presider sh’Thalis not only authorized the expedition, she encouraged us to come here once the initial
find was made.” He offered another, more reserved smile. “After everything we’ve been through, it was a welcome change to return to my work.” Indicating the door through which he had entered the room, he said, “If you’ll follow me to our communications center, I’d like to show you what’s had our attention these past months.”
With zh’Yemre volunteering to show Konya and sh’Anbi where they could find something warm to drink, Picard and McClowan followed ch’Galoniq out of the locker room, their boots echoing on the metal flooring. Like the chamber, the passageway and the rooms lining it were utilitarian in appearance, with much floor space devoted to crates and other containers of supplies and equipment. Andorians occupied several of the rooms, all of which looked to be laboratories or work spaces of one kind or another.
“You can probably guess that space is at a premium,” ch’Galoniq said as they proceeded down the cramped hallway, which was so narrow that they were forced to walk single file. “We thought about erecting a few more buildings, adding more space for berthing and labs, but we decided we could hold out until it was time to move.”
“Zh’Yemre mentioned something about that,” Picard said. “You believe the area beneath the encampment might be part of the find?”
Ch’Galoniq nodded without looking back over his shoulder. “It appears so. Our preliminary examinations of the areas adjacent to the primary site are very promising.”
The corridor turned ninety degrees to the right, terminating abruptly at a closed door. Examining it and the surrounding bulkheads, Picard was able to see that this was a part of the building where two modular components had been connected. Interlocking pins joined to sections of wall were held in place with clamps of a sort he might find in an engineer’s emergency conduit-repair kit. For a brief moment and with mild amusement, he wondered what Geordi La Forge—himself a master of improvisation—might think of the skill and ingenuity employed by the expedition’s members as they constructed their base camp.
Reaching for the door’s locking lever, ch’Galoniq pulled it up before pushing the door inward. “Hello,” he called out as he stepped through the portal, with Picard and McClowan following him. “Joshi, I brought guests.”
The room beyond the door was stuffed to the point of overflowing with computer equipment, storage containers, and a variety of items Picard could not identify. There barely was enough space for someone to navigate between the five workstations arrayed around the room. Seated at a workstation along the far wall, which itself was positioned before a viewscreen set into the wall in front of him, was another Andorian. Somewhat portly in appearance, he swiveled his chair to face the new arrivals. “What are you talking about, Nisra?”
Ch’Galoniq gestured to Picard and McClowan. “Captain, Lieutenant, allow me to introduce you to Trejoshi th’Sivelrak, one of Andor’s leading archeologists. Joshi, this is Captain Picard and Lieutenant McClowan from the Enterprise. The lieutenant specializes in archeology, and Captain Picard is something of an aficionado in his own right.”
As though grateful to be in the presence of kindred spirits, th’Sivelrak smiled and rose from his chair. “Ah, yes. Now I remember. Nisra mentioned something about a visit from the commander of the Starfleet ship. Welcome, Captain, and to you, Lieutenant.”
“Thank you,” Picard said, offering an informal nod. “We’re delighted to be here.”
Chuckling, th’Sivelrak said, “Delighted? I suppose that’s an appropriate enough description. As for myself, I have been and continue to be awestruck. It’s a wonderful feeling.” He punctuated his remarks with another laugh, one loud enough to make the metal walls vibrate.
Picard stepped farther into the room. “Well, my interest has been rather piqued since Presider sh’Thalis invited me up here.”
“Yes, yes,” ch’Galoniq said. “I think we’ve kept you in suspense long enough.” Turning, he stepped across the room toward the viewscreen. “Tell me, Captain, what do you know of the Aenar?”
Frowning, Picard glanced to McClowan before replying, “They were a subspecies among your people, very limited in number as I recall.”
“Limited is an understatement, sir,” McClowan said. “They were believed extinct until the early twenty-second century, when a settlement of just a few thousand was found living in a subterranean complex in the Northern Wastes. They used telepathy to communicate, and they were blind, supposedly as a result of countless generations spent living underground.”
Picard nodded. “The Romulans captured a number of Aenar, forcing them to utilize their abilities to remotely pilot unmanned vessels during the Earth-Romulan War.”
“That’s correct, Captain,” ch’Galoniq said. “One of the darker periods in our history, to be sure. So far as we know, the last known remaining Aenar died more than a century ago, and their underground complex was destroyed during the Borg attack, but they leave behind a wondrous legacy we’re only now truly beginning to uncover.” Turning to the workstation next to th’Sivelrak, he bent over the computer interface there and tapped a series of commands across the rows of controls lining the blue-tinted console. Above him, the viewscreen activated, coalescing into an image of what Picard recognized as a massive dig site. A crater had been excavated through ice, dirt, and rock; and contrasting against the dark, rough edges of the chasm walls were the straight lines, sweeping curves, and sharp angles of artificial structures. Crystal gleamed beneath the rays of sunlight, and while there were obvious signs of damage, Picard’s initial assessment was that the condition of the find was remarkably good.
“What is this?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
“A city,” th’Sivelrak replied. “An Aenar city, buried beneath dozens of meters of ice. There are no records of it. Until a year ago, no one knew about it. A scouting party studying the ruins of L’Uvan, a city north of here that was destroyed by the Borg, found signs of something beneath the ice while passing over this area on its way back to Lor’Vela. Their transport’s onboard sensors detected the presence of manufactured metals and structures, and the initial data they collected showed a handful of crystal spires jutting from the ground. So far as we have been able to determine, the Borg weaponry appeared to have caused a series of earthquakes throughout this region, loosening ice and creating a new network of gaps and valleys.” He nodded to the viewscreen. “This was beneath one of those valleys.”
“This is extraordinary,” Picard said, stepping so close to the viewscreen that he imagined he could see the individual pixels working in concert to render the images.
Standing next to him, McClowan asked, “You’ve dated these structures?”
Ch’Galoniq replied, “Indeed we have, Lieutenant. This area of the find is approximately five thousand years old. Much of what we’ve found is composed of a type of crystalline composite that was common to known Aenar construction techniques, but on a scale far more massive than anything we’ve ever encountered, even in previous excavations we’ve determined to be of Aenar origin. The scientific and historical value of this find is incalculable.” After a moment, he asked, “So, I take it you might be interested in examining the site firsthand?”
“Is that a trick question?” McClowan asked.
Unable to resist smiling, Picard turned from the viewscreen. “Are all Andorians so gifted with respect to understatement?” There was no stopping the feelings now stirring within him. The idea of spending any amount of time down there, walking among the ancient structures and whatever artifacts might be there after lying untouched and unseen for millennia, was already galvanizing him in a way he had not felt for years. Only his wedding day and the birth of his son had filled him with greater passion. “Would it be too forward of me to ask when we might leave?”
“I think we can arrange something in short order, Captain,” ch’Galoniq said, making no effort to suppress the pride he felt at what he and his team had accomplished here. “We’ve been wanting to share this with anyone other than ourselves for a while now.”
McClowan
said, “I have to say, I find this interesting on another level. From what I remember reading about the Aenar, they also were faced with a choice between preserving their species or compromising what many viewed as their cultural identity and integrity. They chose the latter, and we all know how that appears to have turned out.”
“And now we have the chance to learn from what they’ve left behind,” Picard replied. “How tragic it would be, after being presented with such an opportunity, for the Andorians to follow the same path.”
19
From where he stood on the restricted walkway that snaked just beneath the curved ceiling of the massive subterranean auditorium, Worf surveyed the floor of the cavern with a critical eye. Several members of the Enterprise’s security contingent, as well as soldiers from the local Homeworld Security brigade and officers of the city police agencies, intermingled on the Enclave chamber’s main floor, conferring in small groups or working on the installation of various equipment. He scrutinized the scene in slow, methodical fashion, searching for flaws, weaknesses, or points of vulnerability that might be exploited. There were several, Worf decided, though none that could not be secured.
“I hate places like this,” said Lieutenant Bryan Regnis, who stood to Worf’s right on the catwalk. “I stopped counting doors when I ran out of fingers.”
Leaning against the railing to the left of the Enterprise’s first officer, Lieutenant Choudhury replied, “We’ll secure most of them. Just like access to the antechamber on the surface, entering the main hall will be controlled.”