GEMWORLD: BOOK ONE OF TWO

by John Vornholt

  “This all started because of a dream?” asked Crusher in disbelief. “Who had this dream?”

  “I had one of them,” answered Troi. “A new crewmember, Melora Pazlar, had the other.”

  The doctor blinked her green eyes thoughtfully. “Yes . . . I just scheduled her for physical therapy. She should be at her appointment now. Maybe I should give her a complete physical before we put too much faith in anyone’s dreams. No offense, Counselor.” Troi nodded in acknowledgement.

  “The captain and Data are on their way,” answered Riker. “Let’s hold off discussions and suggestions until they get here.”

  La Forge leaned forward, looking mildly irritated. “But, sir, we’ve assembled two special teams for the graviton polarimeter test and the pulse-compression wavelength measurements. We’ve been preparing for weeks—are we just going to scrap the tests?”

  “They’ll be delayed,” answered an authoritative voice. Everyone turned to see Captain Picard enter the conference room, followed closely by Data.

  Picard took his place at the head of the table. “I’d like to thank everyone for their patience and understanding. Our change in plans is as much a surprise to me as to everyone else, but we’ve lost contact with a Federation planet. We know this because we have on board the only representative of that planet in Starfleet. She’s Lieutenant Melora Pazlar, and she’ll be here as soon as she finishes her therapy. She’s Elaysian, from the planet Gemworld.”

  La Forge gazed at the captain with his white ocular implants. “Isn’t that an artificial planet?”

  “Data,” said the captain, “will you please brief us on Gemworld.”

  Before the android could begin, Troi found herself speaking up. “Excuse me, sir. May I brief everyone? I know that’s usually Data’s job, but I’ve been studying this planet, both while I’ve been awake and asleep.”

  Nonplussed, Data turned to Picard to see if he was amenable. The captain nodded. “Go ahead, Counselor.”

  After everyone had settled into their seats, Deanna began. “It’s true, some scientists in the Federation consider Gemworld to be an artificial planet because it requires a network of forcefields to hold its class-M atmosphere. There’s hardly any gravity. A spherical, metallic cage encompasses the planet, and this shell contains the forcefields, hydrogen scoops, solar collectors, dark-matter collectors, oxygen generators, and other equipment essential to maintain the planet.”

  Now La Forge sat forward with interest, and she could tell he was beginning to come around. She went on, barely having to think about what she was saying. “The Elaysians are only one of six sentient species who live on the planet. Their name for it translates roughly as ‘Gemworld,’ and it’s easy to see why. Nothing is left of the original planet except for mammoth crystals in an array of colors. Can you imagine great gemstone arcs, monoliths hundreds of meters high, and gigantic clusters of crystals?”

  Troi’s hands swept the air as she described these wonders, and everyone was gazing at her, apparently transfixed. Somewhat embarrassed, she lowered her hands.

  “Gemworld is not artificial,” she concluded. “It had conventional origins, with a class-G yellow sun. In fact, it may be one of the oldest inhabited planets in the quadrant. Gemworld flourished for eons and should be long dead by now, but the inhabitants have worked hard to give it a second life.

  “Two billion years ago, it was an ocean world, rich in minerals and lifeforms. In this supersaturated solution, the mammoth crystals began to grow, and they gradually took over. As the crystals became like land masses, the water evaporated, and a myriad of unique species began to take hold. After more years, the inhabitants learned how to stimulate and control the growth of the crystals.”

  These events were vivid to Deanna because of the dream images in her mind. She wanted to describe all the tumult and triumph of that era, but she kept her tone factual and to the point.

  “In time,” she went on, “the water receded, and they learned how to use other matter to feed the growth of the crystals, replacing the need for a solution. They used fractal models to stimulate the crystals because fractal geometry kept the structure sound while providing infinite variety and expansion. Natural evaporation and dehydration caused the crystals to weigh less than the oceans and converted matter, so the planet began to lose mass.

  “When the seas were gone, the inhabitants used the core of the planet to feed the crystals, reducing the planet’s mass even further. They had to build the shell and its forcefields to hold in the atmosphere. Millennia later, most of the gravity has disappeared, but the shell is still working. Over the years, it’s been upgraded to collect fuel for the crystal and protect the atmosphere. In return, the crystal affords multi-plane housing and sustenance for billions of beings.”

  “That really sounds like something!” said La Forge, impressed by her descriptions. “Have you been there?”

  “Only in a dream. One of the species, the Lipuls, achieved first contact with the Federation through dream telepathy.” For several minutes, Troi went on in greater detail about the Lipuls’ dreamships, her dream, and Melora Pazlar’s dream. She also mentioned the aged Vulcan, T’Mila, who had died mysteriously about the same time she had woken up from her own dream.

  When she was done, Beverly Crusher shook her head in awe. “Well, that’s that, isn’t it? All I can say is . . . when do we get there?”

  “Thirty-one hours and sixteen minutes,” answered Data. The android swiveled his head to look at Troi. “That was an excellent briefing. I enjoyed it.”

  “Thank you.”

  “What exactly do we think has happened to this planet?” asked La Forge.

  “We don’t know,” admitted Picard. “When you only have dreams to work with, the information is a little vague. A subspace relay near the planet is definitely nonfunctional.”

  The captain looked apologetically at Troi. “Counselor, I’m sorry I doubted you. It’s plain to see that you’ve been there, in spirit if not in body.”

  “I feel that way. But we should really hear from Lieutenant Pazlar. She knows a lot more than I do.”

  The captain nodded and tapped his combadge. “Picard to Barclay. Is Lieutenant Pazlar finished?”

  “Yes, sir! We’re on our way.”

  La Forge slashed a finger through the air. “Why can’t we do the graviton experiments on Gemworld instead of Primus IV? It should be easier there, if they have breathable atmosphere.”

  “If we can get their permission, I don’t see why not,” answered Picard.

  “That should mollify the troops,” added La Forge with a smile.

  A moment later, Pazlar limped into the room with Reg Barclay right behind her. She looked around at the expectant faces, turned to Deanna, and grinned broadly. “It worked, didn’t it? They contacted you.”

  “Yes, we’re on our way to Gemworld,” answered Troi. “But I still don’t know what’s wrong there.”

  “Neither do I,” said the Elaysian, her smile fading. “Maybe they don’t even know.”

  Reg Barclay hadn’t spent so much time on the bridge since his training days at the Academy. Due to his budding friendship with Melora—and her trust in him—he had been assigned to assist her. He was included in every meeting and planning session—although there wasn’t much they could plan since they didn’t know what to expect. He certainly learned more about Gemworld than he ever expected to know. It sounded like an amazing place—it had to be to produce someone like Melora Pazlar.

  Now that she wasn’t struggling to make them believe her dream and take her home, the Elaysian turned into a dynamo. She put in long hours on the bridge, manning sensors, tracking ships in the region, monitoring subspace traffic, and trying to contact her planet. Barclay worked right beside her, and he never saw her grow discouraged when the long hours failed to produce any further information. To everyone’s disappointment, there were no further dreams.

  He came to realize that Gemworld was in one of the most sparsely inhabited sectors
of the quadrant, where only one of a thousand solar systems was inhabited. There were no space lanes near Gemworld either; it was far off the beaten track. Even the Dominion had ignored it during the recent war, deciding there was nothing to plunder in the entire sector. No wonder the Lipuls had needed to go to such great lengths to make contact with others.

  Reg made sure he was on the bridge as they approached their destination at maximum warp. The bridge was a bit more crowded than usual, with himself, Pazlar, and Deanna Troi at auxiliary consoles. Captain Picard sat in the command chair with Commander Riker beside him; Data was on ops, and Ensign Yontel, a blue-skinned Bolian, staffed the conn.

  “Anything on the scans?” asked Riker.

  Melora shook her head. “There are still unusual levels of thoron radiation, but the sensors don’t pick up anything else.”

  “Commander,” said Data, “we are now close enough to get Gemworld on visual.”

  “On screen,” said the first officer.

  A spherical object appeared on the viewscreen, floating in the depths of space. It hardly appeared to be a planet, at least at a distance. After studying it, Barclay decided that Gemworld looked like a snowflake made of colored jewels, encased in a delicate, silver filigree ball. He was also reminded of a clump of potpourri he had seen at his grandmother’s house, encased in a perforated metal ball to allow the floral scents to escape.

  “Remarkable,” said Captain Picard, sitting forward in his chair. “Quite unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

  “When you’re on the planet,” said Melora, “you don’t really have a sense of the shell. It’s just a distant part of the sky.”

  “ETA is in five minutes,” reported Data.

  The bridge crew watched in awe as they drew closer to the remarkable planet. Reg could understand how an observer could claim that Gemworld was artificial, yet it was too beautiful and improbable to be artificial. Nobody would have ever designed such a conglomeration; it had to evolve over time, as Troi had told them. To Reg’s mind, it was more like a bionic planet. Too fragile to exist on its own, it had to be protected and supplemented with technology.

  Data frowned slighly at his instruments. “Lieutenant Pazlar, you said that the shell collects dark matter.”

  “Yes,” she answered, not looking up from her console. “Among other fuels.”

  Data continued, “I am picking up unusual gravitational readings that may indicate a higher-than-usual concentration of dark matter.”

  “Can you be more specific?” asked Picard.

  The android shook his head. “No, sir. The Federation has never pursued dark matter as a viable energy source, and our understanding of that material is limited. Our sensors cannot even detect it, although they can detect the side effects of its presence.”

  Melora smiled. “We can’t detect it either, but we know it’s out there. We’ve collected dark matter for centuries, although always in small amounts and combined with other fuels. When you’ve run out of almost every natural resource on your planet, you become very creative.”

  “Then it isn’t a concern?” asked Picard.

  She shrugged. “To be truthful, I don’t know what’s a concern at the moment.”

  “Coming out of warp in one minute,” said Data.

  The captain glanced at Commander Riker, who instantly ordered, “Shields up. Bring us out of warp five thousand kilometers from the shell.”

  “Yes, sir,” answered the Bolian on the conn.

  Barclay tensed, and everyone looked up from their boards. Even at close range, Gemworld appeared unreal and inconsequential, despite its huge size. If it weren’t inhabited, thought Reg, it could pass as the largest Christmas tree ornament in Federation space.

  “Mr. Yontel,” said Riker, “this won’t be a standard orbit.”

  “Adjustments are programmed in,” answered the conn. “We’re coming out of warp in ten seconds.”

  As soon as the Enterprise dropped out of warp, the ship was jolted by an invisible force. Like a paper plate caught in the wind, it flew backward toward a gaping rift in space. The anomaly was black and opaque, outlined against the stars like a gash in the firmament.

  On the bridge, the viewscreen went blank. A massive electromagnetic pulse surged through the ship, and the conn and ops stations exploded in a hale of sparks. Everyone was thrown out of their seats as acrid smoke billowed through the bridge. Data, his uniform blackened and smoldering, stood calmly, looked around, and strode to an undamaged auxiliary console.

  “Taking over conn,” he reported, but no one responded. The command chair was empty, and Captain Picard lay sprawled on the deck. Riker was there, too, both of them unconscious. “I believe Ensign Yontel is dead,” added Data.

  Barclay blinked away the stinging blood in his eyes and struggled to sit up. He realized that everyone in the circle of stations around the command chair was either dead or unconscious. Those in the outer circle of auxiliary stations had fared better. In a panic, he crawled across the deck, under the smoke, looking for Melora.

  “Data! What happened?” shouted Deanna Troi, staggering to her feet.

  The android’s fingers were a blur as he worked his console. “An unknown singularity has disrupted all of our systems and is pulling us into a rift. I am attempting to compensate. Would you mind taking command?”

  “Computer, Troi assuming command!” she announced.

  They were jolted again, and Barclay was pitched forward onto his face. With relief, he found himself staring eye to eye with Melora. She appeared to be pinned to the deck. “I don’t know what’s happening!” she said with a groan. “My anti-grav suit isn’t working.”

  “Not much else is working either,” said Reg.

  “You’re bleeding,” she said, reaching with difficulty for his face.

  “Barclay, take a count of casualties and alert sickbay!” ordered Troi. She gave the fallen Riker, Picard, and Yontel a worried glance as she staggered to Data’s side. “Can we get away from that thing?”

  “We are at full impulse and unable to escape its pull.”

  Reg rolled onto his back, did a quick count, and tapped his combadge. “Bridge to sickbay! Medical emergency! Three crewmen unconscious . . . others with minor wounds.”

  There was no response, and they were rocked again. The whole ship shuddered an instant before it was plunged into darkness, followed by emergency red lighting. As smoke and sparks billowed across the charred stations and fallen bodies, a Klaxon blared in alarm, and Reg held his mouth to keep from screaming.

  Chapter Five

  “PUT A TRACTOR BEAM on the shell!” ordered Commander Troi as the Enterprise slid inexorably toward a monstrous rift in space.

  The android didn’t hesitate to obey the order. A tractor beam shot from the bow of the crippled ship and stretched across several thousand kilometers of space. It locked onto the delicate shell which surrounded Gemworld, and the fragile metal filigree held.

  Data reported to Troi, “Our descent has been halted. Routing all available power to emergency life-support and tractor beam.”

  The dreadful shaking stopped, although the smoke, emergency lighting, and blank viewscreen made it clear that they were in trouble. Troi whirled around, looking for Barclay, and she was relieved to see him hovering over Captain Picard with a first-aid kit and tricorder. Melora Pazlar came crawling on her stomach from behind a bulkhead, ripping off her anti-grav suit.

  Troi couldn’t worry about them when the whole ship depended on her and Data. She turned back to the android and asked, “If we got inside the planet’s shell, would we be protected?”

  “Possibly,” conceded the android. “Gemworld appears to be stable, despite proximity to the rift. The problem is having enough propulsion to get away from it.”

  “Cut the ship’s gravity!” shouted Pazlar from the deck. “That’s what’s attracting us to the rift, and why my anti-grav suit has gone crazy—it’s our artificially high gravity. Cut it, and stop the attraction.”

&
nbsp; Deanna and Data looked at one another. “I could divert the extra power to the thrusters,” said Data.

  The Betazoid tapped the nearest comm panel, and her voice echoed throughout the ship. “All hands: Brace yourselves. We’ll be losing gravity for a short time.”

  She nodded to Data, who executed several overrides in order to deprive the Enterprise of one of her most crucial systems.

  Troi got a good grip on the back of Data’s chair, but she was still caught off-guard when the gravity left the deck beneath her feet. She floated upward, her mind disoriented because her body was. The Betazoid almost let go of the chair in order to grab her legs, but she managed to calm herself and keep a grip on the chair.

  She turned and saw Melora Pazlar, now stripped down to thin elastic and a few braces, go soaring through the cabin. She flew toward Barclay, who was clutching Riker and Picard and watching his medkit form a floating cloud of bandages, hyprosprays, and vials. The Elaysian caught all three humans and drew them together in a tight circle. When she needed to change position or get a boost, she used her long-toed feet to push off or grab the furniture, keeping her hands free to hold the humans. Palzar was so graceful and natural that Troi felt even more helpless and klunky.

  Data stayed in his seat, calmly working the controls. “We are pulling away from the anomaly. Openings in the shell are large enough for us to pass through. With such low gravity, I can plot an orbit inside, or I can maintain our position.”

  “Can we get farther away?”

  “Negative. Until we are safe, we must keep our tractor beam locked on the shell. Also we have no warp drive, and damage and casualties are reporting in from all decks. We need a safe port.”

  Troi gulped at the seriousness of their predicament. “Pazlar, is it safe to just fly through the forcefield?”

  “The shell will recognize us as Starfleet and allow us to pass,” answered the Elaysian. “Getting out is different.”

  “Okay, head for safety,” she told Data.