GEMWORLD: BOOK ONE OF TWO

by John Vornholt

  The captain’s lips thinned in anger, and Melora felt as if she should to do something to break the stalemate. “Captain, why don’t we let the Jeptah work on the encryption. In the meantime, I think we can locate the senior engineers of the Lipuls and the Alpusta. The Frills and the Yiltern are going to be much harder to find.”

  Picard nodded grimly, not looking pleased with his limited options. “Very well. We’ll investigate from that end while the Jeptah work on the encryption. If you don’t mind, I’d like to leave Commander Data to help you.”

  Bertoran shrugged. “We don’t have any more doors that need to be broken open, but you never know—he may be useful.”

  “I can process four hundred thousand calculations a second,” said Data matter-of-factly.

  “That’s good to know.” Melora detected sarcasm in his voice. The white-haired Elaysian motioned to the door where more of his yellow-garbed retinue were standing by. “Bring in the programmers.”

  As the Jeptah lined up to come in, Melora decided to lead her party out. She was no happier than the captain about Zuka Juno’s death and their general lack of progress, but she knew her people well enough to realize that they would do as they promised, even if they protested all the way.

  Melora grabbed Reg’s arm, turned him around, and propelled him out the door and past the waiting Jeptah. “Let’s get the parade started.”

  “I feel so helpless, like we’re not doing anything,” he muttered.

  “So do I, but we’re doing all we can . . . for now.”

  A moment later, Captain Picard joined them in the corridor. They watched silently as Jeptah technicians swarmed into the programming room. Data was lost in the shuffle, and Melora hoped the android would be able to assert himself. Captain Picard obviously felt he was the right one to leave behind.

  “How can we find the senior engineers?” asked the captain, his mind on the task at hand.

  “It won’t be easy, unless they’re still here.” Melora turned to Reg and smiled. “As proxy for the Elaysians, you have resources we haven’t used yet. For one thing, you’ve got an office here somewhere.”

  “I do?” asked Reg.

  “Just a minute.” Melora pushed off the wall and skirted within a meter of the nearest Jeptah. “Where is the office of the Acting Senior Engineer of the Elaysians?” She pointed to Reg, who smiled and waved.

  The technician shook her head incredulously and ducked inside the hatchway to consult Tangre Bertoran. Melora couldn’t hear what he told her, but the woman returned a few moments later and motioned to them with a beleaguered scowl. “Follow me.”

  The female Jeptah led the way down the circular corridor so quickly that even Pazlar had to hurry to keep pace while dragging Barclay and Captain Picard with her. Of the Enterprise crew, only Data moved efficiently in low gravity. Melora knew she had to be doubly careful with Barclay, who had shown a predisposition to space sickness. She didn’t know what was in those hypos he took periodically, but it wasn’t working very well, judging by the paleness of his skin. Then again, maybe he was just scared of dying, a sentiment she could understand.

  To her mind, Reg had been incredibly brave, taking on a very serious responsibility in order to help them. Although he hadn’t asked to be proxy to the senior engineer—and now the senior engineer himself—he had accepted the burden without complaint. If he hadn’t, there would be no voice of reason in the hall of the Exalted Ones, no one speaking unpleasant truths they didn’t want to hear. Plus there would have been a very nasty fight over who would succeed Zuka Juno, which would have further splintered their leaders’ attention.

  Melora couldn’t believe that she had doubted Reg, too. The captain had been right—his impartial viewpoint had been crucial. It was her own people and the other leaders of Gemworld who had disappointed her. They couldn’t envision their precious shell failing, even when the signs were all around them.

  Then again, to be charitable, thought Melora, they might have recognized failure, but they couldn’t foresee treachery from within. Even now, outright destruction would be easier to deal with than the painful sight of malformed crystals eating away at the structure and beauty of Gemworld. No one could have foreseen this bizarre turn of events.

  The Elaysian shook off her troubled thoughts and tried to follow the route of their imperious guide. Melora discovered a subtle pattern of waves and bubbles engraved on the convex walls, and she remembered similar patterns from the communes where she grew up. They were directional marks. Although few on the planet had ever seen free-flowing water, the motif of waves, rivers, and water was strong in their culture. Melora had no problem understanding the system once she got used to it, and she realized her guide was taking them in circles.

  “The most direct route,” she demanded. “In case you don’t know it, the Acting Senior Engineer can have you removed from your post. Not even Tangre Bertoran could help you.”

  She glanced at Reg and saw him about to stammer that he would never do such a thing, and she winked at him to keep quiet. The Jeptah wasn’t sure what to do, until Barclay began to stroke the violet shard importantly.

  “I do know a quicker way,” she muttered with a slight bow. “I thought you would want to see something of the Sacred Protector, but if not . . . come with me.”

  The Jeptah reversed herself and led them upward through the metallic maze. With a minimum of twists and turns, they arrived at a hatch with a circular plate in front of it, like a shield. Their guide stepped aside and looked expectantly at Reg.

  When he didn’t act quickly enough for her, she pointed to his chest and said impatiently, “The jewel.”

  “Right,” said Reg, sounding more confident than he looked. Melora carefully anchored herself and pushed him toward the bronze shield; with a trembling hand, he held out the gem. When he was almost touching the door, the gem flashed a faint glow, and the door opened like a camera lens retracting in slow motion.

  “That’s more like it,” said Captain Picard with relief. He nodded to their reluctant guide. “Thank you.”

  She bowed curtly and hurried off, a worried look creasing her V-shaped brow. Clearly the disciple had failed Tangre Bertoran by successfully bringing them here.

  “It’s dark inside there,” said Barclay, peering into what was indeed a very dark chamber.

  “I think you can fix that,” said Melora, pushing down Reg’s head and guiding him through the circular hatch.

  As soon as he entered the room, lights came up. They were a soothing violet color, and they revealed what looked like an underwater scene. Bulging nets floated everywhere, all of them crammed with unusual items. One net was filled with computer padds, isolinear chips, books, manuals, sextants, and various unidentifiable gadgets. Another was jammed with the preserved remains of animals and jars containing biological specimens, some recognizable, some not. A third was full of what seemed to be personal items, such as holographic photos, plaques, and crystal samples.

  Every spare centimeter of the convex walls was crammed with drawings, charts, and illuminated transparencies, depicting everything from crystal clusters to star clusters. Almost buried amidst the splendid jumble was a monitoring station and computer screen like the one in the central programming room.

  “Zuka Juno was a Renaissance man,” said Captain Picard, gazing around the cluttered room with admiration.

  “I’ve never understood that reference,” said Melora, “although I’ve heard it before.”

  “In terran history, the Renaissance was a period of enlightenment which followed a period of ignorance and superstition,” answered Picard. “Generally ‘Renaissance man’ has come to mean a person who knows a great deal about many different subjects. I think that would describe Zuka Juno.”

  “On Gemworld, we seem to be following a reverse trend,” grumbled Melora. “Our ignorant, superstitious age is now, and the enlightened age was in the past.”

  “Don’t be t-too hard on your people,” said Barclay sympathetically. “T
hey’ve been safe for so long, they must have thought nothing could harm them.”

  “Nothing but themselves,” said Picard, leaning over the terminal. “How do we find the whereabouts of the other senior engineers?”

  “I think I can bring up their schedules,” answered Reg, slipping between the captain and the console. “Data and I saw the technician do it when we were here the first time.”

  While Barclay plied the board, plowing through screen after screen of tables, Captain Picard studied the gadgets in one of Zuka Juno’s nets. At the sight of one object—a slim, white, segmented board—his eyes widened with delight, and he carefully pulled it from the bundle.

  “I can’t believe it—a slide rule!” exclaimed Picard. He inspected the object, which had miniature rules and guides on both of its intricate faces. “This is from Earth—a primitive computing device that compares logarithms for quick calculations. This one has to be from the early to mid-twentieth century. I wonder how it found its way here.”

  Pazlar smiled. “As I told you, Captain, my people don’t travel much beyond Gemworld, but they’re very interested in collecting knowledge. It’s a shame that Zuka Juno never got to see any of the places where these objects came from.”

  The captain nodded thoughtfully while he carefully worked the inner segment of the slide rule. “There must be a way to bring more inhabitants of Gemworld into Starfleet. I don’t see why we couldn’t outfit a ship to operate under weightless conditions. It’s more natural in space, anyway. If Lipuls and Alpusta can function here on the shell, they could do just as well on a starship.”

  Melora nodded with appreciation. “Thank you for the thought, sir. If we survive this, I’m sure my people will be ready for some more cultural exchange.”

  Her eyes never strayed far from Reg Barclay, and she looked back at him worriedly. “Do you need any help?”

  “Maybe a little bit with translation,” he answered. “I think I’ve pulled up the minutes of a meeting of all six senior engineers. It was approximately one month ago.”

  She leaned over his shoulder and intently studied the document. “I remember that date. It was just after that, while all six of them were still on the shell, that a group of students found the first cluster of mutant crystal. Right after that, when problems began cropping up everywhere, the engineers scattered to their home bases.”

  “Except for the proxy of the Gendlii, Tangre Bertoran,” said Picard pointedly. “We know he’s been commuting back and forth between here and the Exalted Ones, without going home.”

  “Keeping an eye on things,” said Pazlar. She didn’t want to mention that Bertoran was the only one actually in position to harm Zuka Juno because she didn’t want to admit that the senior engineer had been harmed at all. Nevertheless, Bertoran knew the shell inside and out, and he could have arranged for them to find the programming room as they had. After all, he had been the first one on the scene.

  The captain and Reg knew that, too.

  “The Lipul engineer hasn’t left the shell,” said Reg, pointing to a graph with a solid red line. “He’s here somewhere.”

  “The Lipuls can’t come and go as easily as the others,” explained Melora. “But they can use the nourishment strands to get to the surface when circumstances permit.”

  “Let’s pay a visit to the Lipul engineer before he goes anywhere,” said Captain Picard decisively. Behind a bulging net, the captain found a proximity panel, and he opened the door with a wave of his hand.

  Barclay moved uncertainly away from the computer terminal, tilting like a windmill. Melora gripped his arm and steadied him. “How is your medicine working?” she whispered.

  He gave her a wan smile. “I do much better when I don’t have to move around so much. I was hoping I could stay still for a while.”

  “I’m afraid we have to keep moving,” said Pazlar grimly. She glanced at the captain, who was already gliding down the corridor, learning how to push and pull himself along. Could he get them out of this disaster? Could anybody? Melora wanted to slip away to visit her parents, but there was no time for that now.

  Nobody knew how much time they had left.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “HE’S HERE,” SAID NURSE ALYSSA OGAWA, motioning to the door of the examination room.

  A shadow blocked the entryway, and Beverly Crusher turned from her preparations to see Will Riker looking apprehensive as his gaze traveled from her to the sleeping figure of Deanna Troi. She was still restrained, but now intravenous tubes were attached to her arms. Not a pretty sight, but Crusher was determined to change that.

  “Hello, Commander,” she said. “Shall we wait for the captain?”

  “No, he’s going to be delayed for a while,” answered Riker, moving past her to look worriedly at Troi. “How is she?”

  “She’s weak, and we had to feed her intravenously. But physically, she’s fine.” Crusher leaned over her patient and lifted an eyelid. The pupil underneath retracted in reaction to the light, and Troi flinched slightly. “She’ll be waking up soon, anyway, but we’re going to help her along. Last time we let her awaken on her own, but this time it will be more gradual.”

  The commander didn’t take his eyes off Deanna, and Beverly went on, “You don’t have to stay, Will, but I thought I’d give you the option. There’s a good chance it will turn into a repeat of what we’ve seen before.”

  “Then we’ll deal with it,” he answered, rising to his feet and stepping back. “I know you’ll do the best you can.”

  “All right.” Crusher made sure that her emergency hypos were within reach, then she nodded to Ogawa. The veteran nurse reached up and adjusted the flow of the intravenous tubes.

  “We’re giving her a mild stimulant through the IV,” explained Crusher. After two or three minutes, Troi looked unchanged, but Beverly could see that several of her vital signs had increased in activity.

  “Now we’ll employ an ancient method of waking people up.” The doctor nodded to Ogawa, who broke open a small capsule and swiped its contents under the patient’s nose.

  “A bit of ammonia, just enough to wake up her olfactory nodes,” Crusher whispered to Riker. “If we can get another part of her brain working first, maybe we’ll avoid a disturbance.”

  When Troi began to wrinkle her nose and frown puzzledly, the doctor motioned to Ogawa to stop. With a few deft movements, the nurse removed the IVs from her arm, leaving on the restraints.

  More tense moments passed, while Troi twisted and stretched in her sleep, slowly discovering that she was bound to the bed. Crusher quickly prepared a hypospray. Just as the patient was about to open her eyes, the doctor applied the hypospray to her neck. Deanna instantly relaxed and slumped onto the bed, but she didn’t go back to sleep. Instead she lifted her head and stared dreamily around the examination room.

  “Hmmm . . . what’s going on?” she asked slowly, licking her dry lips. She tried to focus her eyes on Riker, and Crusher stepped back to give her a clear field of vision. “Will? Is that you?”

  “It’s all right,” he answered with joy and relief, rushing toward her bed. “You’re going to be all right.”

  “I am?” she asked doubtfully.

  “You had an accident,” said Beverly. She pressed a button, and the restraints snapped back, drawing attention to themselves.

  “Why . . . was I tied down?” asked Troi with a flash of anger.

  “Because of the intravenous tubes,” answered the doctor evenly. “So you wouldn’t pull them loose. Let’s not talk much now, all right? You’ve been through a lot, but I think it’s permissable to give Will a hug.”

  Riker didn’t hesitate to follow the doctor’s orders, engulfing Deanna’s slim body in his biggest bear hug. Immersed in his all-encompassing embrace, she gripped him fiercely for a moment, then she went limp with relief and exhaustion.

  Everything seems okay for now, thought Crusher. But they had to confront the fact that Troi was suffering from some amount of memory loss. If she want
ed answers about what happened to her, there wouldn’t be any.

  Riker gently lowered her onto the bed and smiled fondly at her. “You’re going to be just fine.”

  “I’m thirsty,” she said hoarsely.

  “We’ll get you something to eat and drink,” answered Crusher. “Then you’ll have to sleep some more. After a little more observation, we’ll see about releasing you from sickbay.”

  “What about the mission?” she asked worriedly. “Gemworld? And the ship?”

  “They’re both still here,” Riker assured her. “Do what the doctor says, and I’ll give you a briefing as soon as you get out. Over dinner.” He gave her his most charming smile, and she gently touched his smooth-shaven cheek.

  “I’ve got to get back to the bridge. See you later.” Riker rose to his feet and strode from the room, giving Beverly a grateful nod.

  The doctor tried to figure out exactly what she was going to tell her best friend. When Deanna was fully recovered, they could show her the video logs, but it was hard to tell how much she should know at the moment. The last thing they wanted was a relapse, although Crusher was fully prepared for that to happen. She would keep Deanna sedated for a while.

  “What happened to me?” asked the counselor, shaking her head and staring at the marks on her arm where the restraints had held her.

  “The truth is, we don’t know,” answered Crusher. “Since you seem to have a memory loss about it, we may never know what happened to you. But that isn’t important now—all that’s important is your well-being.”

  “Okay,” muttered Troi wearily, “so I’m not going to get anything out of you, and I don’t remember anything. I guess I just have to lie here and wonder why.”