by Dayton Ward
Tropp said, “You seem reasonably well-informed on the topic. What do you feel you’re not understanding?”
Shifting her position so she could lean forward, Beverly rested her left arm atop her desk and reached for the computer terminal, swiveling it on its base so the Denobulan could see its display. “It’s where she charts her new protocols that I get lost.” She tapped the terminal’s manual interface, calling up a computer-generated representation of a dense, multicolored double helix. As the image resolved, it began a slow counter-clockwise rotation, with the computer supplying pointers and blocks of informative text drawn from the medical database. “This is one of the simulations zh’Thiin created to test her theories on inserting new recombinant DNA sequences into a sample of Andorian genetic code.” She paused the graphic’s rotation, and then pointed to seven different strands spaced at irregular intervals within the helix, each of which highlighted in bright blue in response to her touch. “These are the new sequences, created from a hybrid of Andorian DNA as well as wholly new code intended to fill the gaps left by genetic deficiencies contained within an original gamete after fertilization. All of this is chronicled in great detail in her notes. The problem is that when I look through the rest of her notes, there’s a small yet very noticeable gap between the previous set of test sequences and the one she finally developed for use on volunteer patients on Andor.”
Leaning forward in order to afford himself a better look at the display, Tropp’s eyes narrowed as he regarded the information before him. “I am not a geneticist, but it seems to me as though the gap between the two generations of recombinant DNA is such that establishing a bridge shouldn’t prove that difficult.”
“That’s what I thought, too,” Beverly said, tapping her desktop with a fingernail. “I ran some simulations of my own, but the computer wasn’t able to fill in the missing link between zh’Thiin’s latest recombinant DNA sequencing and what her notes say is its predecessor.”
“Inspiration born of desperation?” Tropp smiled, the corners of his mouth stretching so that his speckled cheeks rose almost to touch his temples. “Some accidental by-product of an otherwise failed experiment she was conducting? Stranger things have happened in the course of history, particularly in the fields of science and medicine.”
Beverly shrugged. “Maybe, but wouldn’t you think she’d want to document that? I mean, we’re talking about pulling an entire civilization back from the brink of extinction, if what she’s developed ends up working.” She gestured again to her computer. “Based on the reports I’ve read detailing the progress of her test subjects, the babies developed from gametes modified with her new resequencing protocols are going to come to term with no detectable defects. The mortality rate of fetuses enhanced with previous versions of test recombinant DNA sequences she developed was only marginally better than those created using genetic code derived from the Yrythny ova. Such a leap forward is incredible.”
“Are you suggesting that Professor zh’Thiin is employing an untested medical procedure?” Tropp asked, his expression turning to one of concern.
Frowning, Beverly replied, “I don’t think it’s that simple. I have no doubt that she has the well-being of her patients as her top priority, and there’s no denying the effort she’s expended postulating, documenting, and testing her theories, both before and after she arrived at this specific sequencing protocol. There’s just this one gap that troubles me. Considering the detail she’s paid to her research notes, it seems very odd to be lacking in this one particular area.”
“It could be a simple case of overprotectiveness,” Tropp said. “The current political climate on Andor isn’t anywhere near being completely supportive of her work or even that of her predecessor. Perhaps she’s worried about further angering a populace that’s already polarized by what many see as a dilution of the Andorian species. Widespread protests might persuade the government or even the Science Institute to order her to stop what she’s doing.”
Beverly nodded. “I’d considered that, myself. A lot of what alienated people to Dr. sh’Veileth’s early theories was her focus on only requiring two sexes in order to complete the reproductive cycle, which presumably would replace the current four-gender paradigm. Professor zh’Thiin’s method should be getting far more support, because it’s compatible with existing Andorian physiology.” She shrugged. “Still, it’s possible zh’Thiin is worried that she’s somehow strayed too far from the notions of simple genetic resequencing and instead embraced methodologies too reminiscent of what eventually spawned the Eugenics Wars on Earth, or even what happened to the Klingons two hundred years ago.”
“Of course,” Tropp said, unable to suppress a wry grin, “what happened to the Klingons was an outgrowth of human experiments in augmenting human genetics. Considering what it endured, it’s no wonder the Klingon Empire took so long to warm to humanity.”
“Fair point,” Beverly conceded, smiling.
Pointing to the computer screen, Tropp said, “As for whether she might be harboring concern about her work running afoul of Federation edicts with respect to eugenics, it’s worth noting that she was given access to all available information on the subject, including any surviving records from the project that spawned the Eugenics Wars as well as later research conducted by Arik Soong and even the work he did that eventually was used by the Klingons. Though she was given strict parameters in which to work, she also enjoyed unprecedented freedom in this arena.”
“But was that enough?” Beverly asked. “I mean, what if she exhausted all of that information while searching for a viable Andorian regimen, and found nothing? What would be her next step?”
Tropp shrugged. “I suppose she might seek out other parties with experience in advanced genetic manipulation. My people, for example. It’s common knowledge that Denobulans employed genetic engineering for several generations to treat many diseases and other disorders, while managing to avoid most of the societal and political problems experienced by other cultures.” After a moment, he added, “So long as she violates no actual laws or regulations, seeking out such counsel is hardly illegal, or even unethical, unless she somehow neglects to credit any assistance provided to her by other parties when publishing her findings for formal review.” He paused, his features clouded in suspicion. “Is there some reason you’ve not approached Professor zh’Thiin with your concerns?”
“Because I just don’t have enough information,” Beverly replied as she reached up to rub the bridge of her nose, “and I don’t want to come off as though I’m accusing her of wrongdoing. Right now, we’re only talking about a puzzle that’s missing a piece, no matter how large or important that piece might be. I need more data, and then I’ll figure out what to do next.”
“And what if the information you seek gives you even greater cause for worry?” Tropp asked, his tone gentle yet pointed, as it always was whenever he adopted the demeanor of the accomplished parent and mentor that he was.
Beverly sighed, having no immediate answer for that.
21
His attention divided between the tricorder in his hand and the massive control console dominating the forward wall of the operations center, La Forge watched as the station’s array of status gauges and indicators slowed from their initial chaotic frenzy and settled into patterns and readings more in line with what he wanted to see. The console’s fifteen computer monitors, positioned on the wall at or above eye level, displayed various combinations of graphics and Andorii text, most of which he could not decipher. To assist him with the translation, he had attached a portable computer interface to the workstation, which now relayed to him in Federation Standard summarized versions of the information on the computer screens.
“From what I can see,” he said after a moment, “everything’s working just fine now.”
“Indeed it is,” replied Kilamji ch’Perine, the power plant’s main operations manager. The burly Andorian was standing next to him at the control console, his gaze directe
d at the various indicators. “You and your people are most impressive, Commander La Forge.”
Smiling as he closed his tricorder and returned the device to the holster on his right hip, La Forge said, “Your team did the hard part. We just pitched in a bit to help with the settling-in adjustments.” There had been more to it than that, of course, but he saw no need to nitpick over such details, particularly in light of the work the Andorian team of engineers had accomplished despite the obstacles before them.
Beyond the walls of the operations center, La Forge could hear the constant, steady hum of enormous storage cells, twenty-six of them, as they worked to draw current channeled to them from the expansive field of solar-energy collectors surrounding the main facility. His ocular implants picked up residual heat on the walls, cast off by the massive cells as they harnessed the energy they were provided. Once the proper commands were issued from the operations center, the cells would begin redistributing that amassed energy along transmission lines to more than three dozen small villages and other provinces located within a five-hundred-kilometer radius of this facility. For the first time in more than a year, those population centers would no longer need to rely upon portable generators and whatever meager supplies of energy could be redirected from other power plants in the western region of the Ka’Thela continent that had survived the Borg attack.
“Given what you had to work with,” La Forge said, “this place is really something.” He pointed to the control console and the technical schematic of the facility. The image depicted the field of solar collectors, arrayed in an expanding circle with the plant itself at its center. “I’ve seen schematics for something like it a few times, but never the real thing. It’s impressive, Kilamji.” Another engineering feat involved the decision behind the facility’s location. Constructed atop a massive artificial foundation, the entire structure was elevated fifteen meters above the surrounding terrain. As such, it was protected from the dangerous floods caused by the unpredictable torrential rainfall to which this region was subjected during warmer seasons.
Ch’Perine nodded, though La Forge sensed the Andorian was uncomfortable with the praise. “I did not devise the idea. That credit belongs to one of our younger engineers, Vayith zh’Belegav. It took her some time to convince those of us who—according to her—were more than a bit closed-minded when we began researching how to rebuild this facility. We had intended to simply repair the existing infrastructure and return to producing energy via the noprila-fired plants, but Vayith insisted that this new method could provide more power without the need to reestablish the mining and transporting of the raw noprila materials here for processing.”
“Yeah,” La Forge said, remembering what he had read about the noprila mineral, similar in many respects to the coal used for energy production on Earth for centuries. “Not the cleanest stuff to be working with, I imagine.”
“Indeed,” ch’Perine replied, smiling. “Vayith also went to great lengths to argue that the elimination of waste products created by the noprila would, over time, be beneficial to the environment. There was no arguing that point, and it was enough for the government to grant us the funds and resources needed to rebuild the plant to collect and distribute solar energy.” Nodding toward the technical schematic, he added, “According to the specifications, once this plant is running at full capacity, it will be able to generate and distribute more than double its prior output.”
“Well,” La Forge said, tapping the console with the palm of his right hand, “the specs were right. You and your team can be proud of the work you’ve done here. The big question now is what do you plan to do with all the excess energy you’ll be generating?”
By way of reply, ch’Perine leaned over the console and tapped a series of commands into one of its manual-input interface stations, with keys and other controls laid out in a circular pattern. When he finished, he pressed the larger key at the station’s center, and in response to his commands one of the screens changed its image to depict a map of what La Forge recognized as the Ka’Thela continent. Along the map’s southern boundary, several areas had been indicated by pulsing blue dots, which the engineer knew represented those villages that soon would be drawing energy transmitted from the plant. Another series of dots, these a faded, static green, also appeared on the map, farther inland than the locations currently serviced by this facility.
“Work is continuing on other plants that normally provide power to these regions I’ve highlighted,” ch’Perine said, pointing to the map. “Several of those plants were completely destroyed during the invasion, to the point that rebuilding them is considered a waste of time and resources. Those plants that survived intact or, like this one, only suffered repairable damage are being converted to the new solar model. Once we resolve the remaining issues with this facility, the lessons we learn here will be used to finalize work on the other plants.” Turning from the console, the Andorian looked once more to La Forge. “The power-conversion modules you installed were the key. So, you see, Commander, your team’s efforts will have a lasting impact on the work we’re trying to do here.”
Nodding in satisfaction, La Forge said, “And that, sir, is all the thanks I need.” In point of fact, the team of Andorian engineers—dozens of dedicated individuals supported by a crew of more than two hundred construction workers and technicians representing myriad fields of expertise—had spent the better part of a year repairing the facility as well as designing and building the enhancements needed to facilitate the transition to producing solar energy. Simply constructing the farm of collectors had taken months, and that was with the assistance of Starfleet replicators used to create the components necessary to build the mammoth energy-collection units and their accompanying storage cells.
La Forge’s team of Enterprise engineers had been brought in to help resolve issues that had sprung up during the final phase of the project—being the upgrade of the transmission lines sending energy from the collectors to the plant and then redistributing that power outward to the receiving population centers. What had seemed like a straightforward idea during the design stage had become more complex when it became apparent that the equipment used to govern the flow of power into and out of the complex was inadequate for the task of regulating the new, greater demands now placed upon it. The existing equipment had overloaded on each occasion it was tested, necessitating the deactivation of the entire collection process until the issue could be resolved. After an inspection of the facility by teams from the Enterprise, Ensign Granados had suggested the installation of dynamic mode conversion modules—specifically of the type used aboard Starfleet vessels when there was a need to interface with the often-incompatible power systems of another ship—to help with upgrading the power flow. According to her, it was a trick she had learned from her grandfather while working to install a “wind farm” energy-collection system on her family’s ranch on Ophiucus III. While perhaps not the most glamorous means of solving the problem, the tactic had worked here, as well, and the flow of energy into and out of the facility was now well within operational specifications, with none of the spikes and ebbs experienced prior to the Enterprise’s arrival. Further, the converters were easily replicated, requiring no special or hard-to-obtain materials.
Sometimes, La Forge mused, the simplest solutions are the best ones.
Turning back to the master control console, he said, “Well, I think we’re done here.” He reached for the portable computer interface he had brought with him and ended its link session with the console and—by extension—the facility’s own network. He was in the process of disconnecting the unit for return to its carrying case when the console emitted a melodic sequence of tones, followed by a voice.
“Operations, this is Security Station One. We have a situation here.”
Ch’Perine reached for a row of controls near the center of the workstation and pressed a large yellow key. “Operations. This is Supervisor ch’Perine. Report.”
The voice bein
g filtered through the communications circuit replied, “Three ground vehicles have just arrived, Supervisor. They parked fifty meters from the main entrance, and their passengers have begun gathering just outside the security perimeter. So far, we count twenty-four individuals.”
Before ch’Perine could respond, another voice—this one female—said, “Operations, this is Security Station Three. We have the same thing here. Approximately twenty persons have just arrived in four small ground vehicles. They’re shouting at us, but we can’t understand what they are saying.” Within moments, three more security stations reported in, offering similar accounts of groups massing near their respective entrances to the facility.
“There are five main gates, right?” La Forge asked.
Ch’Perine nodded. “That is correct. The gates and the protective perimeter are designed to inflict a mild stun to anyone who comes into contact with them from the outside. They will be rendered unconscious for several moments; long enough for one of our security teams to take them into custody.” As he spoke, he entered new commands to the stations overseeing one of the entrances.
Pointing to one of the screens, La Forge asked, “Are there any other ways into the plant?”
“Yes,” ch’Perine said. “We have a network of service tunnels underneath the grounds, but all entrances from the surface have been secured, and are equipped with their own intrusion countermeasures.” He leaned once more over the console, tapping the computer interface and calling up a new set of technical diagrams. On one of the screens, La Forge recognized a map of the facility, and ch’Perine pointed to it. “According to this, all entrances to the plant are secure.”