Strange New Worlds 8

by Dean Wesley Smith

  Stek was adamant that they make their way to the command and control station as quickly as possible.

  “Should we not see what can be done about reviving your crew-mates?” asked Kvin, obviously on the verge of asking for coordination from the Fenton on this matter.

  “No,” said Stek. “First we have to correct the malfunction. Otherwise this could happen again. Also, if there is someone else here unaffected by the stasis, I will be able to locate them quickly from there.”

  Ses tried to tell him that she and Kvin would provide him with code patches that would make any further malfunctions of this nature impossible and that she had already identified the other biosignals on the station as holding their relative positions, but Stek would have none of it.

  He was, perhaps, following some established procedure specific to his species for such eventualities as this. Like Kvin, Ses wrote Stek’s very un-Vulcan behavior off as the result of his recent emotional trauma combined with the lingering effects of the sedaters.

  Soon enough, after stepping over scores of his inert colleagues, they did find themselves at the command and control station.

  “Wait here,” said Stek. “You will be…harmed…if you try to enter without proper permissions.”

  With that he turned and rapidly tapped a code into the access pad. The doors shushed open, briefly revealing the twinkling lights of the control systems in the room beyond, before Stek entered and they shut behind him.

  “He is exhibiting conduct inconsistent with known Vulcan behavior patterns,” said Ses after a few intervals.

  “I concur,” said Kvin.

  They were in the process of asking the Fenton for coordination when a strange green light suffused the hallway.

  “We are being bombarded with thalaron particles,” said Ses after a quick analysis.

  “To what purpose?” asked Kvin.

  “Unknown,” said Ses, looking around. “The most common usage of this radiation is the rapid disintegration of—”

  She stopped speaking. There was no reason to continue. All around them the bodies of the comatose Vulcans began to dissolve. The process was nearly instantaneous. One moment the corridor was filled with unconscious living beings, the next only their empty suits remained.

  Ses and Kvin were horrified.

  “Stek,” said Kvin, turning to the control-room doors. “Are you all right?”

  There was no answer, which, Ses pointed out, could be the result of several potential factors, not the least of which was Stek’s simply not wishing to reply.

  “Stek,” she said loudly. “If you are able, please respond.”

  Stek did not, and again Ses and Kvin were forced to contact the Fenton for help. It was concluded that, once the thalaron effect subsided, they should enter the control area and determine Stek’s condition.

  Even as this decision was reached, the green glow faded away.

  There was no need to kick in the control-room door. Both Kvin and Ses had seen the code progressions as Stek had tapped them in. It was a simple matter to duplicate them.

  The control room was as they expected it to be—a utilitarian box, covered from floor to ceiling with consoles and monitor screens. The single chair was set before what was obviously the master control station.

  Seated in the chair was an empty EVA suit, Stek’s. On the floor beside it lay the Vulcan’s discarded helmet. He had died along with the others.

  Ses and Kvin were equally grieved by this but did not let that interfere with their ongoing analysis.

  They immediately set to a deep examination of the facility’s computer, its operational software, the files relating to the facility’s purpose, and, most important, the malfunction responsible for the slaughter of all the Vulcans.

  “I am unable to locate any of our search targets,” said Kvin. “Nearly all the data stores have been purged.”

  “I have concerns as well,” said Ses. She had been bent over Stek’s suit as well as the attendant console. “Preliminary analysis indicates that it was Stek himself who initiated the thalaron bombardment.”

  “Explain,” said Kvin.

  “Results of my infrared scan show residual heat traces correspondent with code entry on the adjacent keypads. Comparison with codes used to gain access to this room implies a basic set of protocols from activation to self-destruct.”

  “This is a sound hypothesis,” said Kvin, mulling it over. “But there is still an incongruity.”

  “Elaborate,” said Ses.

  “Why kill himself?” said Kvin. “He survived the initial malfunction and, with our help, would surely have corrected it.”

  “This is a covert facility,” said Ses. “That would explain the esoteric construction materials, the field dampers and multiple encrypted code hierarchies.”

  “I concur,” said Kvin.

  “Often those who create such facilities deem any breach to their secrecy to be fatal,” said Ses. “In such an instance, complete termination of all data and personnel could be mandated.”

  “I concur,” repeated Kvin after a little while.

  They contacted the Fenton, providing an update on their situation, and asked for input as to how to proceed.

  “There is a ninety-two percent probability that the self-termination sequence has been compromised by the original malfunction,” said Nau from the ship. “Is it ethical to complete that destruction on behalf of the original occupants?”

  “It is ethical,” said Kvin. “It was obviously Stek’s wish that this facility be destroyed.”

  “He was the last representative of the facility’s builders,” said Ses.

  There was some discussion as to how best to carry out Stek’s final wish, culminating with the decision to bombard the moon with mass inverters. This would destroy the underground base utterly while leaving the moon itself more or less intact.

  Kvin and Ses were directed to use the intervals it would take the Fenton to prepare the bombardment to make a full scan of the rest of the base for future analysis.

  “Concurrence,” they said, and got to work.

  “Kvin,” said Ses as she finished her final scan. “I have detected an anomalous object in the lowermost level.”

  “In what way anomalous?” said Kvin. He had just finished downloading what was left of the partially decrypted central database and schematics.

  “Inconclusive,” she said. “Direct examination is required.”

  At first sight it appeared to be nothing more than a large metal box, roughly two meters cubed. It was seamless, nearly featureless but for the single white indicator light shining from one upper corner. It sat, as Ses had said, in the center of the lowest level of the facility.

  The box was anchored to the floor by four massive clamping fixtures, one to each side, indicating that it had been moved there from another location. A single enormous cable connected the thing to a bank of monitor devices and other systems that were not readily identifiable.

  “What is that?” said Kvin.

  Ultimately Kvin and Ses requested for Nau and two others to join them in the new chamber. It was their hope that the three additional minds might provide enough assistance to solve the riddle of the place.

  After many intervals of analysis they still had no idea what the new technology represented, what its function might be or even its significance relative to the rest of the facility.

  The computers were no help. Their data stores were full of something, that was obvious, but nothing any of them recognized. It was as if the Vulcans had developed a completely unbreakable means of encrypted code storage.

  “Fascinating,” said Ses, going over their scans again. “These symbols are completely unquantifiable.”

  “Not completely,” said Nau, his barrel drum voice echoing against the sterile walls of the place. “I have found an analogue.”

  They followed him to a part of the console that housed a small black display with a cyclone of the unknown symbols cascaded across the screen.

>   “This embedded pattern corresponds to readouts from a physiological scanner,” said Nau. “I believe the object contains at least one living organism.”

  Nau was right.

  Not wishing to somehow disturb the new technology and inadvertently cause damage, Ses and Kvin had made only a cursory examination of the surface of the unknown device.

  Now, with five pairs of eyes giving it close scrutiny, they quickly came across a seam. Several intervals later they also located an almost imperceptible series of depressions just beside the flashing light.

  “This is a pressure release switch,” said Ses after a moment’s consideration. “Is it ethical to activate?”

  That was a puzzle. The box was clearly the property of the Vulcans who had constructed the facility, but those Vulcans were all dead. They had built the facility specifically to keep it hidden, so, to preserve their intent, no requests could be made of the Vulcan ruling body for assistance. Ultimately it was Ses who solved the conundrum.

  “We must open it,” she said. “If there is an organism inside and we simply leave, under current conditions it is extremely unlikely that the organism could survive here alone for very long.”

  “You do not have enough data to make that determination, Ses,” said Kvin. “There are many organisms that could survive here indefinitely without our assistance.”

  “But how many of those would fit inside this construct?” said Ses.

  The top of the box slid soundlessly to one side, releasing a brief jet of cool vapor into the larger chamber. For an interval the mist obscured the contents of the box but soon the cloud vanished, revealing at last the mysterious contents.

  “It is another Vulcan,” said Nau. “Female.”

  “I concur,” said the others almost in unison.

  “She is alive,” said Ses, scanning the sleeping female. “And does not exhibit signs of the chemical stasis in which the others were found.”

  She was, however, completely nude and had folded herself into a loose fetal ball. In addition, her body had somehow been stripped of all its hair, probably to increase the conductivity of the electrodes that connected it to the insides of the box. There were thousands of those, they observed, each linked to a tiny panel on one of the box’s inner walls. Whatever function the strange apparatus was meant to perform was a complete mystery.

  “Is it a punishment of some sort?” said Nau, a little aghast. “I have seen reports of such things.”

  “Vulcan culture no longer engages in punitive activities of this nature,” said Kvin. “It is more likely that this an example of experimental technology.”

  “For what purpose?” asked Ses.

  “Inconclusive,” said Kvin.

  They were well into a second debate about the ethics of removing the electrodes from the sleeping female when she took the matter away from them.

  “Please,” she said weakly from where she lay. Her eyes were open and her hands twitched slightly as if suffering mild electric shocks. “Please, help me.”

  With great care Ses and Nau ferried the female back to the Fenton. Knowing that the original distress call had come from this sector of space, they had prepared their medical bays for multiple alien physiologies.

  Aside from her initial disorientation and a certain weakness of limb, the female was in almost perfect physical condition. They apologized for not being able to remove all of the electrodes from her body. The ones on her head were not merely adhered to her skin but actually embedded deeply into her skull. Removal of those could have caused damage to her brain.

  Still, once her hair grew back, which they assured her it would, it would do much to conceal the small translucent protrusions. Though Vulcans tended away from vanity, they could tell this news pleased her.

  She gave her name as T’Ris. She was not a prisoner but a willing subject of an ongoing experiment whose nature she couldn’t tell them without clearance from her superiors. She wanted to know the state of the facility in which she had been found.

  “We regret to inform you that all of your companions are dead,” said Ses. “An individual called Stek initiated a self-destruct protocol that purged nearly all systems and disintegrated all base personnel beyond yourself.”

  “That is regrettable,” said T’Ris. “But not unforeseen.”

  “We surmise that this is a covert facility of some sort,” said Nau. “Can you confirm?”

  “Yes,” said T’Ris, accepting the warm cup of liquid nutrient Ses proffered. Ses noticed a small hesitation as T’Ris brought the cup to her lips. “It is a covert research base, meant to aid the Coalition against the Dominion.”

  Her rescuers’ faces fell for a moment as they took this in.

  “We had thought the Dominion to be a dormant culture on the far side of the galaxy,” said Nau.

  “Recent events have brought them into conflict with the Federation and several other local civilizations,” said T’Ris. “We have formed a coalition in order to respond to the threat.”

  This seemed to please the other two. The female actually smiled.

  “It has long been our hope that the factions in this part of the galaxy would some day find a way to coexist peacefully,” said Ses. “Though it is unfortunate that an outside threat was required to motivate unity, we are pleased to see it has finally come.”

  “Victory is by no means certain,” said T’Ris soberly. “The Dominion has many resources at their disposal and powerful local allies.”

  “In our experience, there has never been a threat to the galaxy that the United Federation of Planets has not been able to meet,” said Nau. “They are formidable.”

  “I hope your confidence in us is borne out,” said T’Ris. Then she faltered a bit as fatigue overtook her. She seemed somehow surprised by her own need for rest, but Ses assured her that once she awoke, her body would be more amenable to her commands.

  “This is a remarkable vessel,” said T’Ris as she and Ses strolled along the starboard observation platform. “I have never seen this technology before.”

  “We have never employed it before,” said Ses proudly. “It took us many planetary revolutions to decide how best to reintroduce ourselves to the galaxy at large. There were many ethical concerns to be coordinated.”

  “And this ship is the result of your decision?”

  Ses nodded. “Yes, T’Ris,” she said. “The Fenton was constructed as a physical example of our primary ethical precept.”

  “And that is?” said T’Ris, genuinely interested.

  “To be of assistance,” said Ses. “We determined that it is the duty of every culture to be of help to those less capable. To behave otherwise would be supremely unethical.”

  “Some may not accept your assistance,” said T’Ris. “Others will be offended that you deem your own culture to be the superior one.”

  “We have learned this, as the humans say, ‘the hard way,’ ” said Ses. “Hence our long period of reevaluation. In our examination of the histories of the galaxy’s dominant races we were fortunate enough to discover a credo that we have since adopted.”

  “And that is?” said T’Ris.

  “First, do no harm,” said Ses.

  They walked along in silence for a bit as T’Ris mulled over Ses’s words. She found the notion of an entire technologically advanced society premised on service to others very appealing for a number of reasons. But something still nagged at her.

  “How is it you have not heard of the war with the Dominion already?” she asked.

  “We have been…occupied…with other matters for several planetary revolutions,” said Ses. “We have been looking only inward for some time.”

  “May I ask why?”

  “Our initial contact with outsiders was unsatisfactory,” said Ses. “We made many errors based upon faulty data and incomplete understanding of the natures of many of the galaxy’s dominant species.”

  “First contacts are often problematic,” T’Ris agreed.

  “Yes,” sai
d Ses. “We determined a reevaluation of our methodology was necessary.”

  “Indeed,” said T’Ris.

  “So we cut off contact with the outside until the incongruities could be resolved,” said Ses, summing up.

  “Why did it take you so long to resolve these concerns?”

  “There were many voices,” answered Ses. “All had to be heard and coordinated.”

  “How many voices?” asked T’Ris.

  “There are two million of us currently,”

  Again there was silence between them as they looked down on the dark moon, its dead planet, and the great red star beyond.

  Kvin contacted the Fenton at the dawn of its third day in orbit, asking for coordination on a massive incongruity he and the others had discovered.

  “Will you be all right alone here for a few intervals?” Ses asked T’Ris. “I will return once coordination is complete.”

  T’Ris assured Ses that she would be fine. She had the ship’s considerable database to occupy her. She wished to learn all she could about the newcomers and their amazing philosophy of selfless assistance.

  Ses found this acceptable and left her to it.

  Though separated from the others physically, Kvin felt the familiar pleasure as the notes of his mind and individuality, along with those others, were subsumed into the symphony that was coordination. His discovery was too overwhelming for a single intelligence to assess.

  COORDINATION INITIATED:

  ASSESSING…new information string…

  CONSIDERING…Examination of unknown technology and operating systems has produced an anomaly…

  CONSIDERING…based on Version Nau’s initial decryption of several symbols, a successful extrapolation of the rest has been under way…a preliminary determination of the function of this new technology has been made…

  CONCLUSION: Direct interface between organic mentalities and synthetic seems to have been the goal…

  CONSIDERING…unlike the larger facility, this new technology is fully functional, displaying no signs of malfunction or physical damage…yet multiple connections between this system and the larger have been detected, indicating that the new technology has assumed control over the old…