“But that Changeling was actually using Addison’s blood. A DNA scan wouldn’t have proven anything.”
“It might have,” Daniels said. “If the blood drawn was immediately analyzed, I’ll bet an anticoagulant would have been detected. Basic screening only allows for a small sample to be drawn and then a pause to see if it returns to a Founder’s gelatinous state. Testers always take blood from relatively the same area. Mix it up. Take the test a step further and run an analysis on it. Make sure that person is who they say they are. And make sure the blood’s clean.”
Crusher stepped closer. “Adding that step wouldn’t be difficult. Just have the tricorders access the personnel database on the Enterprise.”
Picard looked at Crusher, but Daniels wasn’t sure if he liked the idea or was perturbed the doctor had intruded on what was a private conversation.
At last he looked at Daniels. “Make it so. Coordinate with Dr. Crusher and Lieutenant Huff once the tricorders are ready.” He looked past him to the doctor. “Is Mr. Daniels fit for duty?”
“He should rest.”
But Picard shook his head. “No time. I need physical proof the bomb was of Dominion manufacture so I can send it to Admiral Leyton. If you find more of the same organic material, then that’s proof enough that we have a Changeling hiding on this starbase, or possibly on this ship.” He looked directly at Daniels. “I want the Changeling found. It will pay for the death of Admiral Hahn.”
The captain turned and left sickbay.
Daniels cleared his throat. “I guess he and the admiral were good friends.”
Crusher nodded. “He’s taking it personally.” She checked her tricorder again as she scanned him. “We all are. First they attack Earth. They knock out Earth’s defense system. Now they hit a Starfleet facility, killing an admiral.” She closed up the tricorder and set it down. “I’m still sticking to my original prognosis. You need rest. Try and take it easy for the first day or so.”
He nodded absently, his gaze still fixed on the door where the captain had disappeared.
Daniels had a good idea he knew what was troubling Picard. It was the same question he’d been asking himself since finding the body in the wreckage.
According to Snowden, as well as the sensor logs of the starbase, Admiral Hahn had disappeared.
To where?
Repair was postponed on the damaged decks until after the new security routines devised by Starfleet Security could be implemented. Upon their second meeting, Daniels and Abidah talked, with Daniels doing most of the talking and apologizing for holding a phaser on him. Once he’d seen the lieutenant without the assorted dust and in better lighting, he could see the man’s face was different from his deceased friend’s.
But he could also understand how he’d confused the two in that situation. The resemblance was striking, though their voices were light-years apart in timbre. Jonathan had had a deep, soft voice, whereas Jonas’s voice was midrange. His accent was also different. Something from Earth.
South African?
He also took the doctor’s advice and slept most of the first day.
Unfortunately, Travec wasn’t satisfied with the doctor’s recommendations and ordered Daniels back to the holodeck. But Daniels continued to monitor the security staff assignments in his “free” time. He noticed Huff coordinated directly with Abidah, and after a brief training session with Crusher on how to use the DNA sequencing with the new hypos, she joined Abidah on the starbase, along with Lynch, Niles, and Ryerson, to teach the starbase security personnel.
Testers were set up at turbolifts, deck accesses, and public terminals. Communications were screened out and into the starbase, and all extracurricular activities were overstaffed with Starfleet security personnel.
Some events were simply canceled as Snowden took charge of the station, Leyton having promoted him to captain.
In Daniels’s opinion, things were too closed in. Too—
Stifled.
If there was a Changeling somewhere on the station, the security was too—as Sage mumbled a few times—in-your-face. Obvious. It wouldn’t take a genius to know how to avoid it and hide out. But Commander—rather, Captain Snowden seemed to have his own ideas of how to handle things, and didn’t want to hear any suggestions from anyone else.
Even Huff had tried to help but received a brush-off.
But Daniels had enough to keep him busy.
And the busier he became, the more confusing the events of their arrival appeared to be.
Barclay’s initial analysis of the sensor scans once they were out of warp registered Admiral Hahn’s life signs via his combadge. La Forge was able to pinpoint him as being on deck ten. That was before the starbase fired on them in a panic.
Daniels, Barclay, and Sage merged that data with what they had about the explosion and its aftermath, working long hours on the data retrieved from the starbase sensors, as well as the Enterprise. They managed to outline a rough wire-frame image of the explosion, extrapolated from the sensor logs. But that was all they had. Just the exterior. Even when the imaging system rendered a high-resolution simulation for the amphitheater, it didn’t show much more than what the image recordings did.
Except for—
“Computer, pause program.”
The image of the blast froze.
“What is it?” Sage said.
“Did you see something, Lieutenant?” Travec said from his position near the amphitheater.
Daniels frowned. “Replay time index 4456, one-tenth speed.”
The image restarted much slower. Daniels stood and moved to the amphitheater. He moved into the image and pointed to an area of space just to the right of the starbase—in the same location as the image they’d seen earlier. “That.”
Above his finger was a slight distortion in the star pattern behind the starbase. It appeared only for a second and then disappeared. Daniels looked at Barclay and then at Sage. “Did you two see that?”
“Yes.” Barclay went to the console beside Sage and touched a few controls.
Travec turned an angry snout toward Sage. “You didn’t dump the buffers—again.”
“Oh no, you don’t,” Sage said, snarling. His ears twitched forward and back. “I did dump the buffers, and reset the arrays. It’s all on the ship’s log, you pig-nosed, stumpy-fingered—”
“Sage,” Daniels said as sternly as he could. “Take a walk.”
The Fijorian continued to glare at Travec but stood and left the holodeck.
Daniels went back to the console and checked the logs. “Sage is right, Commander—he did as you instructed.” He looked back at the image. “But this is the same image.”
“No…” Barclay said as he watched the console’s monitor. “Not really.”
“What is it?” Daniels looked to his right at Barclay.
“Well, it has the same effect as a residual image, yet the sensor logs for that time index and location are reading a variance in holographic subtext.”
Daniels blinked. “Say that again?”
“Well, it’s actually not as confusing as it sounds. That anomaly has the same imaging pattern as the DS9 image did a few days ago.”
“Meaning it’s residual.”
“Yes,” Barclay said. “But the sensors detect something in that area of space for at least two milliseconds.”
“A cloaked ship?”
“Not unless it’s a holographic cloaked ship.”
“So,” Travec said as he looked from Daniels to Barclay, “is there something there or not? Or is it just feedback from the junction’s subprocessors? There’s bound to be some sort of glitch in the matrix—we are technically running this on a hot-wired system.”
Daniels pursed his lips and turned back to the image as it looped. “Do the logs show any other area where that same anomaly shows up?”
Barclay checked. “None.”
“But it happens two seconds before the blast.”
“Yes.”
“I’d
run a diagnostic and then do a test sweep of the same area. See if you pick up anything now.” Daniels looked back down at the time indexes in the mainframe logs. Time logs.
“Barclay, do we have copies of the starbase communication logs?”
“Yes, we do. You think there’s something on them that might explain this ghost?”
Sage stepped back into the room. “I’ve walked, sir.” He glanced at Travec. “I apologize for becoming angry, Commander.”
“Back to work,” Travec said, and Daniels was happy the Tellarite left it at that.
“Sage.” Daniels glanced at Travec. “Pull up the starbase communications logs and see if you see anything…odd about them.”
Sage nodded and sat down in the chair Daniels had vacated.
“What is it you hope t’Saiga might find, Lieutenant?” Travec asked as he moved to stand beside Daniels.
Daniels crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not sure yet. It was just an idea—something Sage said.” He moved to stand in front of the amphitheater, then walked into it, the holo-emitters compensating for his physical presence, making him a part of the image, surrounding him with it.
He narrowed his eyes at the image to the right of the starbase. He stood there, alone in the image of space, watching the small area of stars wink and shift, over and over as the image did a six-frame loop.
“Hey, Pádraig,” Sage said from the console. “Take a look at this.”
Daniels left the amphitheater and came around Sage’s left to look at the monitor. “What is this?”
Sage pursed his lips. “I have to say the thing’s been butchered.”
Travec neared the console. “Butchered? You mean it’s been tampered with?”
“Butchered. Seriously. The internal communications network runs on a rotational dump to several tera-stations on the secondary computer core, then it compresses that data after a year where it can be batch-uploaded and filed into the Federation’s main computer database for remote access.”
Daniels turned his head slowly to look at Sage, keeping his expression stoic. “Sage, what is it in our relationship that makes you think I understood a word of that? Me security, you engineer.”
“Makes perfect sense to me,” Travec said.
Sage chuckled, his ears twitching. “Okay, it’s like this. All communications in and out, as well as internally, are logged into the secondary computer core. This tracks everything, from passengers, cargo, business transactions, and the movement of Starfleet personnel. And that information is eventually stored at Starfleet.”
“Precisely,” Travec commented.
“Well, someone’s been at this thing in the past three weeks. And I mean taken a sledgehammer to it. It’s like they didn’t even bother cleaning up after themselves, or even tried to be neat.”
“You have missing logs? Holes?”
“No.” Sage pursed his lips. “I got empty logs. Whoever did this knows his way around a communications network, and they simply went into certain logs, erased, and then left the time stamps.”
“Why?”
Barclay spoke up. “Oh, that’s easy. Because in a cursory scan to detect a disruption in communications, the computer would think that all the logs were still there.”
“That’s sort of devious,” Daniels said, moving to the chair beside Sage. “Who would want certain communication logs deleted?” He tapped a few panels and pulled up the time index. Empty logs appeared in red, while the others were white. “Its only been happening since July first.”
Sage nodded slowly. “When Snowden showed up.”
“What are you insinuating, Fijorian?” Travec said.
“I’m only making an observation, sir,” Sage said, tight-lipped.
“You don’t like him, do you?” Barclay said as he put his hands on the back of the console. “Captain Snowden.”
“No,” Sage said, glancing from Daniels to Barclay. “Look, I don’t know why. I just get all creeped out when he’s around. Like he’s watching me or something.”
“Well, you are kinda funny-looking,” Daniels said as he started copying the time log oddity to the dump file Muñiz and Stevens had created on the secondary computer core. He was making copies of everything they found. And making it harder for someone to erase.
He blinked. Now where had that paranoid thought come from?
Barclay handed Daniels a padd. “Here’s the components list you asked for. Everything’s there. Eight of the eleven pieces of the Dominion puzzle.”
Daniels took the padd, thumbed the bottom to make the image scroll down. “Yeah…”
“You don’t look happy.”
“I’m not.” He glanced at Barclay. “Oh don’t worry. It’s a good job. But it’s all too different. Too—” He struggled to find the word. “There’s too much of a variance in percentage. The detected amounts are too different.”
“All the levels of component percentages are within tolerance levels, Mr. Daniels. We are exactly where we should be for a Dominion bomb.”
Daniels stifled another yawn. “But that’s the problem—the variance is too different from the first bomb. It’s sloppy work. We have the right chemicals—the right components, both mineral and organic—but the formula is jiked up,” he said, borrowing one of Sage’s words.
He yawned again.
Travec puffed up his chest. “Mr. Daniels, you have been neglecting your sleep patterns once again—”
“Only because you keep yanking us all back in here,” Sage said under his breath.
“—therefore I suggest you retire and sleep the required seven hours.”
Sage glanced at Daniels. “You heard the pig. And you’re drinking too much coffee—”
“I don’t have a choice. I’m supposed to meet Data in art sciences in—” he checked the console’s chronometer. “Vloek! Now. I gotta go.” He grabbed up the padd Barclay had given him and headed for the door.
Sleep. It’s overrated, right?
CHAPTER
7
The Proud Man’s Contumely
“…Absolutely intolerable,” Snowden said. He peered out at the bridge crew of the Enterprise from the viewscreen, his hands balled into fists. Behind him was displayed the Starfleet sigil, not the blue and white symbol of the Federation.
Another of his subtle changes.
Picard sat up straight in his chair. “Captain.” It was still hard for him to address Snowden as as captain. Somehow on this man the title became a mockery, not an honor. “I’m still unsure what your objections are.”
“The use of DNA testing. How many times do I have to request that you stop?”
“Obviously a lot,” Riker muttered to Picard’s right.
Picard ignored his first officer, though not caring whether or not Snowden heard him. “The new security measures implemented by Starfleet Security do state it is up to the CO’s discretion as to what sort of measures above and beyond the blood screenings are used. I feel the suggestions made by Mr. Daniels were well founded. As you know, I and my crew had a Changeling on board this vessel not long ago. Blood screenings can be faked.”
Snowden’s face twisted up into a look of aggravation. “But I specifically asked you not to waste efforts and staff on the DNA testing.”
Picard glanced at Riker before answering. “Captain, why would you ask us to decrease measures when it’s been made obvious we have a shape-shifter among us?”
“I am not asking you to decrease the measures.” Snowden’s expression soured. “I’m telling you the added efforts at DNA screening are a waste. You said so yourself that the Addison shape-shifter had used vials of the real Addison’s blood—how would DNA testing be an advantage?”
Picard opened his mouth to answer, to tell Snowden of Daniels’s suggestion that if pirated blood were being used, then an anticoagulant compound could be detected.
But something made him pause. Something at gut level told him not to divulge this information, because apparently it was something Snowden’s own sec
urity people hadn’t thought of. Instead he smiled and said, “Peace of mind, Captain. And because it was a recommendation by Lieutenant Daniels.”
“Daniels? He’s not even a member of your crew. He’s part of Commander Travec’s team, isn’t he? What does Travec think about this? I want the DNA testing ended, Captain.”
That did it. Picard reached down and straightened his uniform jacket as he straightened in his chair. This had gone on long enough. “Captain Snowden, the Enterprise is under my command. The welfare and health of the crew is my responsibility. Mr. Daniels’s suggestion to protect this crew was approved by me, and I will not cease the DNA testing of any persons entering and exiting the ship to the station.”
Snowden’s expression went blank, as if he wasn’t sure how to respond. “Daniels was to be assigned to us upon your arrival, along with Travec and t’Saiga. I suggest those three take up their posts here. I’ll arrange to have their things transferred.”
Picard caught Riker bristling in his peripheral vision. He too felt the immediate urge to disobey the captain, especially on such a ridiculous request. But there was something else niggling at him, a feeling of danger. He’d been reading Daniels’s and t’Saiga’s findings about the explosion, and had taken under advisement the security guard’s suspicion at the lack of hard evidence of a Dominion involvement.
Not to mention the runaround he was getting at Starfleet Command after he requested a communication with Captain Sisko. That had put both him and Riker on a higher alert.
Sisko was the only one he truly trusted right now—at least on Earth. And now he was as unavailable as the Federation President.
“I think it would be in our best interests if he and his team remained on the Enterprise. Their equipment is integrated with our own.” He glanced at Riker, arching his eyebrows for any input.
Riker nodded to Snowden. “I think Admiral Leyton would want that, Captain.”
“And while we’re talking about security,” Picard said as he stood, straightened his jacket, and took a step forward. “I would like a status update on when Travec’s team and my security and engineering people can investigate the blast site. Without retrieving samples to look for a key—”
Star Trek: The Next Generation™: Slings and Arrows Page 8
