A Time to Sow

by Dayton Ward

  The nurse’s normally well-groomed hair was disheveled. She looked up and shook her head. “A few injuries, but unless someone’s keeping something from us, these are all greens.”

  Following triage guidelines, medics were grouping the Dokaalan by the extent of their injuries and coding them by color: green for evacuees needing no treatment and who could be quickly moved to temporary berthing areas, yellow for those who suffered from injuries that did not threaten their lives, red for those who would die without immediate treatment—and black. Crusher had coded three Dokaalan as black so far, and that was three too many so far as she was concerned.

  “Sounds great, Alyssa,” Crusher said. “We could use the break. Make sure you get some rest and something to drink before the next group comes. You look like you need it.”

  “We all may need it,” Ogawa said over her shoulder as she started toward the row of emergency bioscanner arches. “According to Lieutenant Vale and Commander Riker, we’ve only seen about a third of the Dokaalan on the outpost.”

  Crusher turned away to hide her grimace. It would not do for her subordinates to see her frustration at the current situation. Instead they had to see that she was in control and would continue to work no matter the difficulties that lay ahead. The Dokaalan were counting on them, after all.

  She was moving from the reception area to inspect the status of their medical supplies when she saw Dr. Tropp, one of her three fellow physicians on board the Enterprise. “Hello, Doctor,” she offered as he approached.

  “Dr. Crusher,” the Denobulan replied, holding up a dermal regenerator. “While treating our guests I have discovered that our regenerators aren’t working as efficiently as I would like. I am trying to take advantage of our slight lull to see if I can recalibrate one of them, but I admit to having little success.”

  Since his arrival on the Enterprise, Tropp had shown an unwavering drive in his practice of medicine, and she quickly had come to appreciate his opinions and diagnoses. Additionally, he had demonstrated a keen interest in working with the younger and newer members of her team. Tropp seemed to enjoy functioning as the Enterprise medical staff’s own continuing-education program, something that she welcomed considering that his people had served as biologists and healers even on the earliest of Earth’s deep-space exploration vessels.

  “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, Tropp,” she said, “but it might not even be possible to accelerate their healing. Let’s hold off on that now, and focus instead on stabilizing the wounded.”

  “Oh, I heartily agree, Doctor,” Tropp replied. “I’m just trying to anticipate what we might see later, given the circum—”

  “Hey! We need some help here!”

  Both doctors turned at the sound of the voice. Craning to see past the lines of Dokaalan at the bioscanning arches, Crusher spotted a pair of Starfleet crewmen ferrying between them what appeared to be a tarp—supporting a body. As the two physicians sprinted across the deck toward the new arrivals, she caught sight of another such makeshift stretcher, this one carried by a Dokaalan and an Enterprise crewman. Crusher peered into the tarp and saw that just what Tropp had anticipated was starting to come to pass.

  “What happened?” Crusher asked as she activated her tricorder.

  “Coolant pipes ruptured,” said one of the rescuers. “These two got doused with the stuff. There were others, but…”

  “I understand,” Crusher said as she got a better look at the extent of the victims’ burns. Swaths of their pale blue skin had turned a pallid gray. Wounds that should have been bleeding were cauterized. One of the Dokaalan was shuddering noiselessly, while the other was deathly still.

  Tropp appeared at Crusher’s side with the steering pads for an antigrav gurney in each hand. “Use these,” he instructed as he passed the pads to a pair of medics. “It will help ease the pain from the burns.” As the two victims were maneuvered onto the gurneys, the Denobulan produced his own tricorder and scooped out its handheld scanner.

  “I cannot tell whether these are chemical burns or scaldings,” he said as waved the scanner over one of the Dokaalan. “They may be both. Are there open beds in the red area?”

  “Forget that,” Crusher said. “We can’t handle this down here.” She tapped her combadge. “Crusher to sickbay. Activate emergency medical hologram.”

  A second later, a cool, reserved voice responded through her communicator. “Please state the nature of the medical emergency.”

  “This is Dr. Crusher,” she said as she tapped commands into her tricorder. “I’m in cargo bay four leading a triage team, and I’m transferring the medical information for two patients that are being taken to you now. I need you to prepare sickbay for use as a burn unit. I need…”

  “Wouldn’t it be simpler to beam them directly to sickbay?” the hologram asked.

  “Transporters are not cleared for use,” she said. “Please just listen and don’t second-guess me.”

  “Affirmative,” came the hologram’s crisp reply.

  “Thank you,” she snapped, trying to remind herself that the EMH was a valuable asset in situations such as this, when time was of the essence. The holographic doctor could instantly access the ship’s medical database and retrieve all the information on the Dokaalan, allowing him to begin work immediately. Further, he would be able to work indefinitely without the need for rest, a unique advantage considering the extensive and likely time-consuming treatment he was about to provide to the three inbound patients.

  Unlike many starship medical officers, who had opted for more advanced versions of the emergency medical hologram, Crusher had decided to keep the Mark I model EMH program after a test period to evaluate its successor. Though the newer Mark II version was unquestionably a superior product of computer software engineering, she had grown accustomed to the Mark I’s personality and felt it better served her as well as her medical staff and, ultimately, the rest of the Enterprise crew.

  That’s not to say its bedside-manner subroutines still couldn’t stand some additional adjustments, she thought.

  “I need you to prepare beds as dermaline gel baths for burn treatment. Attune the support frames to monitor for signs of infection and also to continuously cycle the gel for debriding.” She paused, unsure that the course of treatment even would work on the lanky beings.

  “I am aware of the protocols, Doctor,” said the EMH. “Is there anything else?”

  “Yes, you can reduce the gravity in sickbay to one-sixth normal,” Crusher said. “Dr. Tropp and a nursing team are on their way with the patients. I want you to make their stay as comfortable as possible.” She actually thought she heard the EMH huff before responding.

  “I’m a doctor, not a concierge.”

  Crusher bit her lip to stay an equally terse reply, then said, “I know you’ll do your best. Crusher out.”

  As she helped a pair of nurses maneuver the gurneys toward the closest turbolift, Crusher’s attention was drawn back to the scene of organized chaos unfolding around her. Seeing the steadily growing number of Dokaalan patients as well as Enterprise medical staff as every other crew member who had heeded her call for extra assistance working to maintain order and continue to the triage process, she could not help the silent plea that screamed in her mind.

  Now, if we can just do our best….

  Chapter Fourteen

  GEORDI LA FORGE HAD WORKED on a variety of machinery over the years, from the latest in Starfleet engineering concepts to unique specimens of alien technology. Thanks to a bizarre set of circumstances, he had even traveled through time to the twenty-first century and assisted the great Zefram Cochrane in preparing the man’s prototype warp-capable vessel for its maiden voyage. Given his wide range of experiences, it was a rare occasion when the Enterprise’s chief engineer encountered a problem he could not solve eventually.

  And it was those instances, such as the one he faced right now, that tended to frustrate him.

  “What a mess,” he said aloud, thou
gh there was no one else around to hear him. “We’d be better off jettisoning the whole thing and building a new reactor from scratch.” Shaking his head, La Forge deactivated his tricorder and returned the unit to the holster on his waist, wiping sweat from his brow as he did so. It was hot down here, a by-product of the overworked reactor and its malfunctioning coolant system.

  The engineer took another look about the cramped room, the control center for the mining outpost’s main power reactor situated in a sealed chamber hundreds of meters below the surface of the asteroid upon which the complex had been constructed. He was seeking any clue, any hint that he might have missed which could help him and his team to bring the malfunctioning reactor under control.

  Like the rest of the outpost, the control room was sparse in its construction and crammed from deck to ceiling with all manner of control consoles, tool lockers, and storage containers. Its most prominent feature was the large electronic status board mounted to the wall at the room’s far end, which reminded La Forge of the large master situation monitor in the Enterprise’s engineering section.

  As for the remainder of the room, the bulkheads were composed of metal plating riveted and welded together, and La Forge could see crude join lines and other indicators of hasty repairs completed without the luxury of always having the correct replacement component or even the proper tool for the job.

  The reactor itself, while possessing key differences from others he had seen, appeared to La Forge to be similar enough to those used to power the first manned interplanetary spacecraft from Earth in the early twenty-first century. Those power systems had been based on the concept of fusing deuterium and tritium with helium to create high-energy plasma that was in turn channeled by electromagnetic coils to generate thrust. The principle employed by the Dokaalan was similar, at least in this system’s original design, though it appeared to have been adapted to work using minerals found in abundance among the asteroids. Even more remarkable was that the Dokaalan engineers had apparently devised a process that was free from potentially harmful residual waste such as neutron radiation, a dangerous by-product of the early Earth fusion reactors. All in all, it was an impressive piece of technical craftsmanship.

  Not unexpected, La Forge conceded, considering the only tools and materials these people have are what they can fashion for themselves. Under the circumstances, the overall maintenance of the equipment he had inspected since arriving on the outpost was well above what he had expected to find.

  Hearing footsteps behind him, La Forge turned to see Lieutenant Taurik and one of the Dokaalan specialists, a short yet stocky specimen named Rysatam, approaching the control center from the reactor room’s main floor. As with the rest of the engineers sent from the Enterprise, the Vulcan was dressed in a tan utility jumpsuit ideal for the type of climbing and crawling activities the away team could be expected to perform during their investigation of the outpost’s power center.

  “What have you got, Taurik?” La Forge asked.

  Holding up his tricorder, the junior engineer replied, “According to my analysis, Commander, the reactor’s cooling system can be repaired, but I do not believe we can do so in the time remaining to us.”

  Frowning at the report, La Forge said, “Maybe we can rig up some kind of bypass and hook in a substitute cooling unit.” The Enterprise stored such devices, which normally were used to regulate the operating temperature of mobile power generators employed by temporary settlements on newly established colonies. He judged that one or two of those would be more than sufficient to handle the cooling needs of the ailing Dokaalan reactor.

  “That is not all,” Taurik continued. “My scans show that several of the reactor’s key components have melted or malfunctioned due to the excessive internal heat. If left alone, the reactor will continue to generate energy at uncontrolled levels until it overheats and explodes.”

  “What about switching to backup systems?” La Forge asked.

  Standing next to Taurik, Rysatam replied, “The systems that allow us to switch from main to secondary power are among those damaged. Our automated connections are severed and the manual overrides are fused.”

  The chief engineer shook his head. “So there’s no way to shut it off.” He had arrived at a comparable conclusion after his initial inspection of the reactor systems, but he was hoping that one of the Dokaalan engineers or a member of his own team might provide another option after a more thorough examination of the problem.

  “I am afraid not,” Rysatam replied, his expression sullen. Like the other Dokaalan workers the away team had met upon entering the outpost, he had quickly overcome any anxiety at meeting visitors from space and eagerly embraced the Enterprise engineers, hopeful that the new arrivals might offer a solution to their problem that was beyond their own technical expertise.

  Sorry to disappoint you, friend, La Forge mused, the thought laced with frustration at his team’s apparent inability to provide that magical solution. Well, this certainly didn’t take long.

  Turning to Rysatam, Taurik said, “There is nothing more to be done here. Prepare your people for evacuation to the upper level. You will be escorted to our ship with the rest of the outpost residents.”

  The Dokaalan nodded gratefully. “Very well.” Looking to La Forge once more, he added, “Do not feel bad, my friend. The situation was dire well before your arrival. We will adjust to the loss of equipment and matériel as we have in the past, but because you are here, many people will be saved who would have certainly perished without your assistance.”

  Not wishing to spoil Rysatam’s goodwill, La Forge smiled as he wiped more perspiration from his brow. “I suppose you’re right. That is the most important thing, after all.”

  As Rysatam turned to gather his people for the move back to the outpost’s main level and Taurik notified the rest of the away team to gather their gear and head out, the chief engineer tapped his combadge. “La Forge to Vale.”

  “Vale here,” the voice of the security chief replied a moment later. “What’s the story down there, Commander?”

  “The reactor’s a hopeless case,” La Forge replied. “With the coolant gone, some of the key mechanisms have melted, including the ones that would have let us shut the damn thing down. There’s nothing we can do to keep it from overheating.” The temperature in the room was continuing to climb, another sign that the situation was worsening, at least if the sweat running down his back was any indication.

  “How much time do we have?” Vale asked. La Forge knew she was in the midst of coordinating the evacuation of all four hundred colonists from the outpost, so any information he could provide her would be helpful.

  At his prompting, Taurik replied, “Approximately thirty-six point four minutes, Lieutenant.”

  “We might be able to bleed off some of the pressure that’s building,” La Forge added, “but we’d only be delaying the inevitable. We need to get those people out of here, Christine.”

  “We’re working on it, Commander. Vale out.” The connection severed, leaving the two Enterprise engineers alone in the sweltering reactor control room. Looking around, La Forge realized that the temperature of the reactor had risen to the point that his ocular implants could pick up the waves of heat emanating from its outer shell. They did not have much time, he knew.

  “I guess that’s all we can do, Taurik,” La Forge said. “Let’s get our people and head back topside.”

  “Commander, a moment if I may,” the lieutenant said. Pausing a moment, as if to insure that no one else could overhear them, Taurik activated his tricorder and tapped a command sequence into the unit’s small control pad. “During my analysis of the reactor I discovered an anomaly.” He held the tricorder so that La Forge could see its compact display screen. “I detected evidence of structural fatigue in this control valve on the coolant system’s flow regulator, but according to my scans, that is inconsistent with the age of the component in question.”

  “A faulty part, maybe?” La Forge
offered. “Wouldn’t be the first time a replacement part was defective, here or anywhere else.”

  Shaking his head, Taurik replied, “Were it the single valve I might be tempted to agree. However, I discovered similar indications in three other valves, each of which is an integral component in its respective part of the overall system. Further, the signs of fatigue would appear to be older than the valves themselves.”

  “That might still be explained by a defect in manufacturing,” the chief engineer countered, but even as he said the words they rang hollow in his ears. What Taurik had shown him simply made no sense, given their surroundings. Like everything else he had seen in the mining outpost, evidence of meticulous care was visible everywhere, from the lack of dirt and grime on the surface of equipment to the cleanliness of the floors and walls and the absence of trash or detritus that might be expected to accumulate over a lengthy period. The Dokaalan obviously had learned early on that with only themselves to rely upon, the need for proper maintenance and diligence was essential, particularly with those systems charged with keeping them alive.

  So what had happened to the coolant system?

  His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an alarm wailing outside the control center. It was quickly followed by several indicators on the room’s main status board, all of them illuminating an attention-grabbing crimson red.

  “Uh-oh,” La Forge said as, one after another, more of the indicators flared to life. “I think we’ve got another problem.”

  Closing out the communication with Commander La Forge, Vale exhaled audibly.

  Nothing’s ever easy, is it?

  Working with his team of engineers as well as a few Dokaalan technical specialists, La Forge had hoped to bring the rapidly overheating power generator under control. The outpost engineers had argued it as an impossible task, but La Forge wanted to take a shot at the problem himself with the equipment and technology at his disposal, which far exceeded that of the Dokaalan.