“Sometimes.”
“Exactly. Sometimes.”
“If it weren’t for the fact that it doesn’t seem like anyone has been here for a few thousand years, I would say that what we are witnessing here is a grand experiment,” the admiral said. “Whoever left these biodomes here didn’t secure them. They didn’t make them inaccessible. And given the level of mastery of both technology and biology we’ve already found, my guess is that if they’d wanted to, they could have.”
“You think they left them here as a challenge? ‘See what we did and let us know if you think you can do better’?” O’Donnell asked.
Janeway smiled at the thought. “I feel like if they had intended for anyone to follow in their footsteps, they would have left instructions, a message, something to help guide those who came after them.”
“Maybe they didn’t think anyone would. Most of the space around this area used to belong to the Borg. That might not have been the case when these biodomes were erected. And it’s really interesting to me that the Borg never seemed to have come here.”
“It’s easy to get the wrong idea about the Borg, to give them far more credit than they deserve. Advanced, efficient, and destructive as they were, they weren’t gods. They were not capable of mastering anything they couldn’t assimilate and nothing here would have responded to assimilation, nor are the natural resources that unique.”
“The Sevenofninonium is.”
The admiral turned on him with her most withering glare. “We’re not calling it that.”
“I am. I think it’s a perfect designation.”
“Yes, well, we will never know how many interesting anomalies and good ideas the Borg failed to notice along the way,” Janeway said.
“I’m kind of glad they never came this way or wrote it off. This kind of technology isn’t really safe in anyone’s hands, least of all theirs.”
“What about ours?”
O’Donnell paused his steps and crossed his arms, considering the admiral. “I have plenty of faith in the essential goodness of our people, especially now that I have a much broader basis for comparison.”
“One of these days you’re going to have to let go of your anger with the Confederacy of the Worlds of the First Quadrant.”
“Maybe. But not today. And I wasn’t actually thinking about them. I was thinking about the Krenim.”
Janeway inhaled deeply and exhaled very slowly, clearly purging her own complicated emotions on that subject.
“What I find most worrisome about anyone who would turn to time manipulation to accomplish political ends is their stunning lack of faith in themselves,” O’Donnell said.
Janeway smiled in spite of herself, resuming her previous meandering pace. “It’s hard to equate arrogance like that with insecurity.”
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
“You aren’t. I just never thought of it that way.”
“All of these incredibly powerful civilizations have one thing in common. The Federation, the Borg, the Caeliar, the Confederacy, and the Krenim, they all develop unique tools in the name of progress. They each set lofty goals for themselves and harness those tools in the service of reaching those goals. But of all of them, ours seems to be the only one still confused about our ultimate purpose.”
“Confused? I don’t believe that’s true. Our goal is to learn as much as we can about the universe we inhabit and all of those with whom we share it.”
“And if, along the way, we find others whose purpose conflicts with our own?”
“We prioritize our survival while doing all we can to forward the notion of peaceful coexistence.”
“But how devoted are we to that peaceful coexistence thing? How devoted can we be when our existence is threatened so frequently by species who will never give us the same respect we are willing to extend to them? We kill others to preserve ourselves and our way of life.”
“As a last resort.”
“But still, it’s always there. We don’t send ships out to explore without arming them.”
“Are you, of all people, arguing for greater pacifism from us?”
“No. Not at all. I like living and I intend to continue doing it for as long as possible. I’m saying a little more humility on all our parts might be in order.”
“Humility?”
“Even the Caeliar weren’t above making horrific mistakes. They knew their technology to be beyond that of most of their spacefaring contemporaries and responded by hiding themselves as best they could from the rest of the universe. Whoever created this is playing at the same level, but they left their work here for anyone passing by to visit and study. This construct is meant to outlive us all. And I think you’re wrong about them not leaving instructions. Everything we need to understand this technology and its purpose is right here. But it’s only meant for the taking by those wise enough, advanced enough, and humble enough to see it for what it is.”
“What is it?”
“I’m starting to think we’re not ready to find out.”
Janeway smiled. “Patience and faith, Commander. Those two things have taken me a lot further than humility.”
“Patience and faith? Two qualities I have never managed to cultivate.”
“Stick around long enough and they might just rub off on you.”
In the distance, O’Donnell spotted the shadowed figures of Chakotay and Glenn moving around a small, stationary light source.
“I hope not,” he said.
“Should I be insulted by that?” Janeway asked semiseriously.
The commander shook his head. “I don’t know. Personally, I’ve never seen the point in polite contrivances created to justify our natural tendency to waste time.”
O’Donnell had almost reached the top of the low hill where the rest of the team waited when he realized that the admiral had stopped several meters behind him. Turning, he saw her silhouette outlined in the fading light.
“Admiral?”
She walked toward him slowly. When their eyes met, he could see, even in the dimness, that something hard had replaced the clear blue pools that he normally characterized as vivacious.
“I’m sorry, Admiral, if I said something to offend.”
“Not at all, Commander. As usual, you’ve given me a great deal to think about. Let’s not keep the others waiting any longer.”
VESTA
On the rack before Doctor El’nor Sal’s eyes sat twelve vials. Each vial contained a vector—a perfectly prepared, genetically modified virus awaiting its final instructions. By this time tomorrow, segments of Ensign Aytar Gwyn’s DNA, including the metamorphic regulators Sal required to overwrite Nancy Conlon’s malfunctioning ones, would be added to the vectors. Several hours in a centrifuge later, they would be ready. After enduring weeks of hopelessness, Sal was going to bring to her team and those nearest and dearest to Conlon the best news they’d had since she was diagnosed.
Nancy Conlon was going to live.
“Got a minute?”
Sal turned on her stool to see Captain Regina Farkas standing in the doorway to the medical lab. Her arms were crossed at her chest and the fine lines around her eyes had grown deeper.
“Weren’t you supposed to be enjoying shore leave today?” Sal asked.
“I was. I did. It was awful.”
“I guess that explains why you look like hell.”
“Compliments will get you nowhere, Doctor Sal.”
Sal rose and grabbed her medical tricorder. Aiming it toward Regina, she said, “Were your fellow commanding officers not working and playing well with others?”
“I have no complaints about the company.”
“You didn’t drink enough water today, Regina. You’re dehydrated.”
“I’ll live.”
“So what happened?”
Farkas shook her head as she crossed to Sal’s stool and took the lab’s only seat. “We need to get the hell out of here.”
Sal was justifiably intrigued. Regina
was many things, but faint of heart had never been one of them. “We’ve got another week and a half in orbit, don’t we?”
“Not if I can help it. But it’s going to be a heavy lift to convince anyone else that I’m not just getting too old for this shit.”
“Analysis of the fecal matter?”
“That’s not a planet down there. It’s a damned freak show.”
“Until now, I wasn’t upset that my work was going to keep me up here. Do I need to see this?” Sal asked.
“It looks so peaceful, so intriguing. But you scratch the surface and nothing makes sense. All those weird metal sculptures with no purpose. The plants look like plants but if you cut them, they grow right back before your very eyes.”
“Like earthworms?”
“Earthworms are alive. Our tricorders can’t even tell us what these things are.”
“Huh.”
“It’s wrong. Everything about it is just wrong. It’s like we’re children, stumbling around in a mad scientist’s lab. We don’t know what to touch, what not to touch. We don’t understand the first thing about the people who built this or what they intended to do with it. If we’re not careful, best-case scenario we’re going to get some of our people killed. And so far, we’re not being careful. Half the fleet’s crew is down there right now having a picnic by a vast body of water they’re calling a lake, but unlike most lakes, it has no discernable source.”
“Regina, calm down. You love a good mystery as much as every other insanely curious girl who decided to give her best years to Starfleet. How exactly is this different from the way we blunder into every strange new situation we’ve ever encountered?”
The captain sighed, rising to her feet and beginning to pace fitfully. “We’ve all seen some pretty weird things, I will grant you that.”
“Part of the job.”
“Yes. But sometimes our job is to look dispassionately at what we find and say, ‘Nope. We’re not ready for this.’ Right now, all I want to do is recall every single person on that planet, tuck our tails, and run.”
“Does anybody else feel this way?”
“Hell, no. It’s all awe and wonder and isn’t this amazing down there.”
“Have you told the admiral how you feel?”
“There’s no evidence that I’m not just losing my mind. I feel like Cassandra. And I’m never that girl.”
Sal smiled wearily. “I know the feeling.”
Farkas paused, staring at Sal as if she suddenly remembered something important. “How’s your thing coming along?”
“Better than I could have hoped. I’m almost there.”
“That half Kriosian helped you out?”
“She did. Not a problem at all.”
“Well, that’s a relief. Congratulations.”
“Too soon for that by a few days. But I’ll let you know when to start popping the champagne.”
“I have to get down there,” Farkas said miserably.
“Why?”
“Dinner with my fellow commanding officers.”
“Don’t hold back, Regina. You and I both know where not listening to our instincts leads. Tell them how you feel. Maybe you’re not the only one who’s worried but no one wants to be the first to say something.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“I’m always right.”
“Priority message for Doctor Sal from Doctor Sharak,” the computer called over the comm.
Sal sighed wearily as she opened the channel. “Go ahead.”
The face of Doctor Sharak appeared on the screen before her. Everything about him was tense. For the life of her, Sal couldn’t remember ever having seen Sharak sweat before, but a bright sheen covered his high forehead and scalp. “El’nor, are you available to transport over immediately?”
“I am. What’s the problem?”
The words “Ensign Gwyn” had barely escaped his lips when Sal rose saying, “I’ll be right there. Sal out.”
“What is it?”
Sal saw the fear in her face reflected in Regina’s eyes.
“My half Kriosian,” Sal said.
“Go.”
Sal did.
DK-1116
Now this is a party, Commander B’Elanna Torres decided as soon as she materialized not far from her family’s campsite near the lake. She couldn’t count the number of bodies milling in and out of the large tents, cavorting along the shoreline, or playing in the water beneath dozens of portable lights that thoroughly illuminated the area while still creating the feeling of nighttime on the beach. Someone had brought an amplifier, and loud music with a heavy beat beneath stirring strings set Torres’s pace as she moved among the throngs toward the spot where she hoped to find her husband and children.
“Evening, Commander!” several cheery voices greeted her as she passed. She caught a few familiar faces in the crowd, mostly her engineers, and returned the smiles they offered. As much of a logistical nightmare as this leave rotation had been, it was well worth it to see so many letting loose and truly enjoying themselves.
Chakotay was right. We needed this.
Several people were munching on finger foods or holding brightly colored beverages. For the first time it crossed her mind that cleanup in this biodome was going to require special attention. Torres didn’t mind folks enjoying themselves, but when it was time to go, they were going to leave this place exactly as they’d found it, no matter how loud the complaints were. She took note of several strategically placed recyclers and hoped everyone was making use of them. She decided that a carefully worded memo to all officers in their morning briefings would be in order, just to remind everyone to clean up after themselves. Otherwise, their last days here were going to be more work than play.
Her pace quickened as she reached the ridge leading to her family tent. Voices could be heard above, laughing and chatting. The music was less oppressive this far from its source. As she reached the top she saw Tom holding a sleeping Michael in a backpack he normally used for family hikes on the holodeck. Miral was next to him, her eyes glued to a gooey, melting white blob at the end of a wooden stick she knew her husband had replicated just for this occasion. Several others, including Fife, Velth, Icheb, and Bryce, were roasting their own over a small heating element Tom had packed with this purpose in mind.
“Mommy!” Miral cried in delight as soon as she caught sight of Torres.
“Evening all,” Torres greeted the group as she stepped clear of the circle to catch Miral in a tight embrace.
“Mommy, Mommy, this is the most beautiful place,” Miral said, her words tripping over one another in her haste to get them out. “I found a birdhouse and it’s big enough for all of us and Michael, and I think there are enough for everybody, and we should live here now. Mommy, do you want a marshmallow?”
“Hang on,” Torres said as Miral grabbed the nearest stick from Icheb, who surrendered it graciously, and thrust it at her mother. “Yes, honey, thank you.”
Tom’s smile could have lit the whole biodome as Torres stuffed the molten sugar into her mouth and did her best to swallow it gracefully.
“It sounds like you all had quite a day,” Torres said as she took Miral by the hand and led her back to Tom’s side.
“Hello, gorgeous,” Tom said, kissing her without restraint as she settled herself beside him and took Miral into her lap.
“Tell me about this birdhouse,” Torres continued, wrapping her arms around her daughter and taking a moment to revel in the sweet smells that would always mean “Miral” to her. Among them was a faint tinny fragrance Torres didn’t recognize.
“I climbed the trees, Mommy,” Miral said jubilantly. “All by myself.”
“You’re getting to be such a big girl,” Torres said, smiling. Miral beamed at the compliment.
“It’s actually a significant find,” Fife said. “Your daughter is a natural explorer.”
“What was it?”
Tom picked up the story. “It looks like there might ha
ve been an avian species here at one time. Most of those metal trees back there have hollow spaces that lead to flat surfaces. There weren’t any archeological remains, but the architecture is pretty compelling. Whatever those things are, there’s room in most of them for several of us to make a home.”
“That’s amazing.”
“That’s not the half of it,” Bryce said.
“What did your team do today?” Torres asked.
“It took Elkins all of ten minutes to figure out that these biodomes are enclosed by fields generated from a single source,” Bryce reported.
“Did you find it?”
“We’re constructing a surface sensor array to get the most precise measurements possible,” Icheb replied. “Some of us are, anyway.”
“Elkins and Benoit have it covered. Benoit has actually got a team of holographic engineers working around the clock so we can start placing them tomorrow,” Bryce interjected. “He let us go a little early so we could join the party, but we’ll be back at work first thing, so Icheb can start enjoying himself again.”
Torres looked to the ensign and noted signs of embarrassment. Normally he took Bryce’s gentle ribbing in stride, but it seemed to sting tonight in a way it never had before.
Before Torres could inquire further, Miral said, “Mommy, I don’t want to go back to the ship. I like it here.”
“Really?” Torres asked.
Miral nodded solemnly, which was hard with bits of marshmallow glued to her cheeks.
“We live on Voyager, honey,” Tom said.
“We used to live on Voyager,” Miral corrected him. “But now we can live here.”
“We really can’t, sweetheart,” Torres said gently. “This isn’t our world. We’re just here exploring. When we’re done, we’re going to find other worlds to study. That’s what Starfleet does.”
“But I like this world,” Miral said.
“Miral,” Fife spoke up, “do you know the difference between a ship and a planet?”
“Ships are small,” Miral said.
“They are smaller than planets, yes,” Fife agreed. “But they both move through space.”
Architects of Infinity Page 19
