by Rudy Josephs
“The entire city has been laid out as a work of art,” Picard explained. “And a historical document, in a way. At the outer edge of town, where Q introduced us to this world, there was nothing extravagant in the building design. It was largely functional architecture with some decorative detail. All the designs worked very well together, as if it were typical of Myndran architecture.”
“But it wasn’t,” Vash said, taking up his line of thought. “Because even those first buildings had small elements taken from other cultures.”
“Nothing that we would have noticed at first blush,” Picard continued. “We would have just chalked it up to one of the many coincidences in societies across the galaxy.”
“There are only so many ways to construct a wall,” Crusher added.
“Precisely,” Picard said. “But then we hit an explosion of obvious influences from other societies.”
“The so-called arts district where we met up,” Crusher said.
“Which led into neighborhoods that were distinctly representative of other worlds,” Picard said.
“Of course you noticed that too,” Vash agreed. “I thought we were in some ancient amusement park, where each street was designed to represent a different society.”
“I think those streets were laid out in accordance with the society they visited,” Picard said. “On one street you’d have the Romulans, while on the next some Gamma Quadrant race thousands of light-years away. Those influences then coalesced into the arts district, where everything exploded into a riot of influences before settling into one distinct look for the Myndrans, taking a little bit of influence from every race they visited.”
Vash nodded in agreement, her eyes lost in the memory of their travels.
“So, working inward, we get to the origin point.” Picard raised an arm out to the buildings around them with their basic, more industrial design. “Where we are now. The treasure should be stored in the most basic of these buildings. The one with no artistic embellishments of any kind.”
“A blank canvas,” Crusher said, echoing Picard.
Picard smiled. He was certain they had figured it out.
It took only two turns to find the building they’d described. It wasn’t the tallest on the block. It wasn’t the widest. It stood out in no discernible way, which is what made it stand out completely.
The outer walls were smooth, formed by some kind of concrete. The few windows were small and deep set. It was all utilitarian in design and, likely, function. The two metal doors in the front of the building were the only element that called any attention to the building at all. And they were practically screaming to be noticed.
Alien writing covered the doors. It was interesting that the words were barely noticeable until they were standing right in front of the building, as if purposely hidden to keep that blank-canvas mystique. The same, unreadable language now clearly ran from top to bottom—or bottom to top, depending on how the Myndrans read.
Vash approached the doors. There was no handle, or any clear way to open them. “What do you think it says? A warning to keep out?”
“The writing looks etched into the metal,” Picard said as he joined her. “Something more permanent. It’s probably been here as long as the doors have stood.”
As Picard pressed his hand onto the metal to see if the door pushed open, it began to glow crimson. He pulled away the moment he felt a warm sensation under his fingers.
“What happened?” Crusher asked, grabbing his hand to give it a quick examination.
“Nothing,” Picard said. “Just some warmth. It surprised me, is all.”
“The writing changed,” Vash said.
Picard and Crusher looked up from his hand to see that the lettering was different. It was still in a script that they did not recognize, but it no longer looked like the Myndran text they’d seen around the city.
“I think it wants to be touched,” Vash said as she did just that. Once again a crimson glow emitted from the door as the letters shifted. They took on new shapes—some unusual, others more familiar. Klingon and Vulcan symbols came up before quickly shifting to other languages. Vash held her hand to the door as her own flesh began to glow with the same light.
“Vash . . .” Picard warned.
“It’s okay, Jean-Luc,” she said. “Feels like a hand massage.”
The letters continued to shift through more recognizable languages until they finally settled on Federation Standard. Vash quickly pulled her hand away, smiling. Not only were the letters familiar, but the words were as well. “The riddle of the Sphinx,” she said. “Well, the most popular one, at least.”
The words barely covered half the door. It was considerably less text than many of the other languages had revealed:
“What is that which has one voice and yet becomes four-footed and two-footed and three-footed?”
Picard almost laughed. It was so elementary a puzzle. “The Myndrans must have designed it so that if anyone came to reclaim their treasure, they could easily gain access. I suspect the other languages revealed equally simple puzzles.”
“Or it was another way for Myndran society to appreciate the spoils of the races they had stolen from,” Vash suggested. “Learn the language, solve the puzzle. Just because we know the answer doesn’t mean it would be as easy for them.”
Crusher stepped forward to join them. “I may not have studied under the esteemed Doctor Richard Galen, but even I know the correct response is ‘man.’ But how do we use that to get inside?”
Picard raised his hand to the door again, laying a finger on the “m” in “becomes.” It immediately lit up in the same crimson glow, but the rest of the metal door remained normal. He then pressed his finger to the “a” in “and,” which earned him a similar reaction from the door.
As he slid his finger to the “n,” Vash grabbed him. “Hold on, Jean-Luc. I want this treasure as much as the next person”—Vash looked to her companions—“or more than the next person, in this case. Do we really want to be the first ones to open that door?”
Picard turned to his fiancée. “You are certain that whatever affected these people is no longer active in there, right, Beverly?”
Crusher shrugged. “Anything is possible. It’s possible we’d be immune to it, whatever it is. What it really seems to come down to is that we’re not going to get off this planet if we don’t go inside that building. Or do I misunderstand Q’s plan here?”
“No,” Vash said. “That’s pretty much the situation.”
“Well then, we might as well go inside.” Crusher placed her own finger on the last letter in the response and held her hand there as all the letters glowed crimson, before the entire door shifted to a bright blue. The doors swung inward, welcoming them inside. Crusher was the first to enter, doing so without hesitation.
“I get what you see in her,” Vash said as she followed.
Picard was the last to enter. None of them had died upon crossing the threshold. It was a positive sign.
Finally, the glowing stones they carried from the museum had proven useful. The building interior was as dark as it would be inside an actual vault. The few windows they’d seen from the outside were on higher floors. There was nothing on this level that gave even the appearance of being a light source.
They angled the stones’ glow around the room. A few signs in the indecipherable alien language hung on the walls. They made for interesting decor but were of no use to them. Otherwise, the room was completely empty. No sign of bodies. No barricades. No indication whatsoever of what had tried to bust out the doors. The only thing of note was the wide spiral staircase in the center of the room, leading up into the ceiling and down into the floor.
“This building looks like it’s about thirty stories tall,” Beverly said as they approached the stairs. “Where do we even start?”
Picard and Vash replied: “Down.”
Beverly placed her hands on her hips. “You can’t be serious.”
“If
this supposed treasure has been collected and stored,” Picard began, “it makes more sense to keep it underground in a climate-controlled setting. The building appears quite formidable, but even the few windows we saw could allow for light that would harm the precious artwork rumored to be stored here.”
“Besides,” Vash added, “there’s nothing more enticing than buried treasure.”
Crusher smiled as she moved to the staircase. “Okay, we go down.”
“Careful,” Vash warned with a smile. “Don’t want to set off any booby traps.”
“Vash, this is hardly an ancient temple in some old vid,” Picard reminded her.
“Well, of course not,” Vash said. “That would be easy. What we have here is a potential storehouse of the greatest treasures in the galaxy collected by an incredibly advanced civilization that wanted to protect them for future civilizations. I’m surprised we weren’t vaporized the moment we walked through the door.”
Crusher looked at the staircase that wound down beneath her feet. “Perhaps someone with more experience in these situations would like to go first.”
Vash pushed her way past. “Gladly.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Crusher whispered as she followed with Picard.
“You do realize the purpose of that entire charade was so that Vash would get to lead this expedition?” Picard countered as he and Beverly followed down the staircase.
Crusher grinned. “Of course.”
The staircase wound deep down into the bowels of the building. There were no doors, no levels to step off and explore. It was one continuous spiral that took them lower several dozen meters before depositing them on some level far beneath the ground.
The long hall stretched on into the darkness beyond the point their glowing stones could illuminate. Vash did not slow as she plunged into the darkness, heedless to any dangers that could lie in wait.
“So much for booby traps,” Crusher joked as she and Picard hurried to keep up.
Vash’s stride grew faster as the hall twisted and turned in different directions. Another path never materialized. No side halls broke off from the main. More signage in alien script lined the walls with every step of their journey, but there was nothing but more hallway ahead of them. It almost felt to Picard as if this were some holding area where people would line up in anticipation of getting in to see the treasure. As if this were some kind of tourist destination, like the old amusement parks he’d seen photos of on Earth. All in all it added to the ridiculousness of the entire situation in which they had found themselves.
“Did you hear that?” Crusher asked. She stopped to listen while Vash continued on ahead.
Picard stopped with her. “What?”
“I’m not sure,” Crusher said. “Like wind howling through the hall behind us? But we didn’t pass any other openings, and we’re a little too far below the surface for wind to be whipping through anything.”
Picard strained to listen, but all he could hear were Vash’s footsteps moving farther away.
“I don’t hear it anymore,” Crusher said. “Maybe it was nothing.”
“Or it could be anything,” Picard said. “But Vash’s impatience seems the more pressing concern. We should catch up with her.”
“I found something!” Vash called out from far ahead. They could barely see the glow of her light, she’d managed to put so much distance between them.
Picard and Crusher hurried down the hall, listening for any additional sounds, while keeping their eyes on Vash.
The rogue archaeologist hadn’t traveled as far as they’d initially thought. She just hadn’t been directly ahead of them when she’d called out. The hall had opened up into a room and some of the glow of her light had disappeared beyond the edge of the opening, making it seem smaller and farther ahead.
They were in some kind of antechamber, about the size of the Enterprise bridge. The space was mostly empty save for one wall that was dominated by huge metal doors that looked far more formidable than the ones that they’d used to enter the building.
Vash was already at the doors, examining them with the glowing stone. Some sort of device bulged out at the center. It had her focus.
“It’s a locking mechanism,” she explained when they reached her. “Mechanical. There’s a hole for some kind of key.”
“It looks . . . intricate.” Picard held his own glowing stone up to the device. A collection of cogs and gears peeked out of the metal housing, only hinting at the mechanics that must have been inside the lock.
“I don’t know how . . .” Vash started to say before trailing off. Her hand reached up to the pith helmet.
“What is it, Vash?” Picard asked.
“Q.” She removed the hat and slid her hand around the inside. “He once challenged me to get through a door without his special powers. Gave me a pith helmet like this and told me to use my head. I found a metal rod along the rim and was able to use it to pick the lock.” She pulled a metal rod out of the hat that she now held. “It took me a half hour and the lock didn’t seem half as complicated as this one, but I can give it a try.”
Crusher stepped up to her and took the metal rod out of her hand. “Let me give it a go.”
“Pick many old-fashioned locks, have you, Beverly?” Vash asked.
The doctor slid the metal rod into the lock, closing her eyes to allow her sense of touch to guide her. “At Starfleet Medical, I took a class in medical practices of the past. By the end of the semester we were trained to do numerous intricate surgeries with only the aid of ancient scalpels and sutures and the like. It gave us the opportunity to hone our skills of manual dexterity. For extra credit the instructor had us use those skills in other ways.” The lock clicked, followed by the sound of mechanisms set in motion.
Beverly stood and handed the metal rod back to Vash. “I was top of the class.”
Vash smiled. “I like her, Jean-Luc.”
“I’m so glad you approve,” Picard replied drolly, as they listened to the gears shift. The lock did not open all at once. It took a few moments of whirs and clicks as they stepped back to listen.
“It’s odd,” Vash said, examining the hat while they waited. “Why would Q leave this helmet for Beverly to find? Did he know she’d come up with a way to get here? That we would need to pick a lock?”
“That seems like an awful lot of assumption,” Picard said.
“He does claim to be omniscient,” Crusher said.
“But if his goal was to distract me from Beverly, why would he plot to send her here with the means to assist us?” Picard asked. “What exactly is his endgame?”
They could not come up with an answer before the final click of the lock released and the bolt holding the door shut came unlatched.
“We’ll leave that mystery for another time,” Vash said with a hand on the door. “Now, who gets to do the honors?”
“I think that would be us.” The voice came from the end of the hall. That voice was accompanied by an ominous growl.
Picard turned with his companions to see that their competition had caught up with them.
“Move away from the door,” Burinda warned. “And you can leave with your lives intact. Sure, you may spend the rest of your days alone on a deserted planet, but that’s the trade-off. It looks like you’ve already made a new friend since we last met.”
“We’re not leaving you with the treasure!” Vash replied. “Not a chance.”
Picard wasn’t as certain as Vash was that this was the right response. Burinda wasn’t making an empty threat. Goztik held one of the creatures on a leash fashioned out of a long metal pole. In the other hand he held his disruptor.
“You can have the treasure,” Picard said. “We just want to go home.”
The pole in Goztik’s hand kept the animal several feet away from its captors while it strained to get at the people in front of it. The Nausicaan held tight to the metal bar, but all he had to do was release it and any discussion on salvage rights would co
me to an abrupt end. Picard wasn’t about to argue the point.
“Jean-Luc!” Vash spoke in a stage whisper through clenched teeth.
“The treasure will do none of us any good if we’re stuck on this planet,” he said, loud enough so that everyone could hear. “If we find it together, Q will have to let us go. Together.”
“And if we set this animal loose on you, we don’t have to worry about her stabbing us in the back.” Burinda pointed to Vash, though it was quite clear about whom she was speaking.
Crusher leaned in and whispered: “Vash, you know this person. Do you think she would kill us for a treasure?”
“For most treasures?” Vash said. “No. But this is the find of a lifetime. I can’t begin to guess what she would do with it so close.”
“Right now there is no treasure,” Picard reminded them all as he took a step back. He wanted to believe they wouldn’t kill them. The creature was just there for effect. Certainly Goztik’s disruptor would have done a sufficient job on its own. “We still do not know what is behind this door. This could all be for nothing.”
Picard’s goal was just to get the door open. So long as he or Beverly was the one to set eyes on the treasure first, he was confident that Q would keep his word and let them go home. Vash had her own relationship with Q, and Picard suspected that she would be able to play on that to get herself safely back to wherever she had been plucked from. He wasn’t as concerned about the others, but since they were the very definition of innocent bystanders, it stood to reason that Q would dismiss them easily once his game was done.
“Touch that door and the treasure will be the last thing you have to worry about,” Burinda said. “Now step away.”
“That animal looks like it will just as soon attack you as it will us,” Vash said. Picard suspected she was right. The animal was twisting its head around, snapping its jaws at Goztik as much as it was hungry for them. It was possible that it would go after the ones that had trapped it in the metal leash.
“Would you like us to release it and take the risk?” Burinda asked.
Picard took a few steps to the left, moving away from the door. “Fine. You win.”
