“Dear God,” he murmured, swallowing hard. Normally, the tiny lights inside would be blinking in rapid sequence. Now, they were all dark. “He’s not functioning . . . we need to get him back to the ship if we’re to have any chance of saving him.”
He looked up and tapped his communicator. “Picard to Enterprise.”
“They don’t work down here, Captain,” Wesley said. “At least they haven’t up till now.” He and the others had moved closer despite Picard’s caution.
“There must be a way to—”
Deanna gasped. “Captain.”
He followed her gaze down to the access opening in Data’s head. One by one, the lights began to glow. Then they resumed their sequential flashing. Data’s eyelids fluttered open, his head turned, and he sat up to see five faces beaming at him. On his own face, he wore a blissful smile.
“Data,” Picard said, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Thank God—we thought—”
“We thought you were dead,” Troi said.
“To be honest,” Data said, “I had entertained that possibility myself.”
Ensign Crusher extended a hand and helped the android to his feet. “Thank you, Wesley.” Data brushed himself off and resealed the access flap on the side of his head. “Captain, I am surprised to see you here.”
“Not half as surprised as I am to be here. But that is of less consequence than your condition.”
“Though it would probably be advisable to have Geordi run a total diagnostic systems analysis upon my return to the Enterprise, I seem to be functioning within acceptable parameters, sir.”
“Are you certain of that?”
“Quite certain.”
“Data,” Troi said, “do you have any idea what happened to you?”
“My sensory and memory circuits seem to have been overloaded by external stimuli, which would account for my brief incidence of unconsciousness. Complete processing and recall will take me a few moments—but I can say that I have just had a most intriguing encounter with the life-forms inhabiting this planet.”
Data had barely begun to describe some of his strange visions when a group of at least a hundred sparkles abruptly appeared overhead several meters behind him, accompanied by faint chiming sounds. They glowed in a whole spectrum of colors. An occasional colored tendril floated out of the pack, but compared to earlier displays, the sparkles seemed tentative and passive, as if waiting for something.
Picard pointed over Data’s shoulder. “Are those the life forms you mean?”
The android turned. “Yes, sir, they are.”
“Data, exactly what happened? Were you able to communicate with them?”
“In answer to your first query, it will take a somewhat lengthy narrative to fully describe what I experienced.” He sighed with regret, and his smile faded. “As for whether I was able to establish any meaningful communication, I am afraid the answer is—”
:Yes—he was.: The words seemed to echo through the cavern, spoken in a gender-neutral voice with a faintly musical quality.
Data’s eyes widened. “Most interesting.”
Wesley stared at the sparkles. “They talk?”
“Not that I am aware of, Wesley,” Data said. “Are you saying you heard an actual vocalization?”
Picard gave Data a confused glance. “Yes. Didn’t you?”
“No, sir. I received direct input to my sensory analysis node.”
“And I sensed it empathically, Captain,” Troi said.
“Most interesting indeed, Data.” Picard turned and took a few careful steps toward the swarm of glittering particles. “Are you the inhabitants of this world?”
One golden sparkle, larger than the others, emerged from the clump and pinwheeled to within two meters of Picard, where it hovered at his eye level. :Yes. This is our place—our World.:
“What do you call yourselves?”
:In your words, we would be called Shapers. I am called Ko.:
“I am called Jean-Luc Picard. I am Captain of the Starship Enterprise. We represent the United Federation of Planets.”
:Picard-of-Enterprise. Federation?:
“Why did you capture this ship and its crew?” Picard asked, gesturing toward the shuttlecraft.
:Capture? We did not capture. I felt danger to them— so I brought them here to preserve them.:
Data stepped forward. “Captain, the Onizuka was in danger. Had we not been removed from orbit at the time we did in fact disappear, the shuttle might have broken up and the away team might have been lost. So, in a sense, Ko’s claim is defensible.”
Picard’s jaw tightened with mild annoyance. While Data’s statement may have been factually accurate, Picard found the timing less than propitious, fearing that it might undercut his questioning of the Shaper about its actions. “That may be true, Ko—but why didn’t you release them? Why did you continue to hold them here?”
:I still felt the colors of danger—in you—in your ships. We tried to communicate with you, but you did not understand.:
“The colors of danger?” Picard whispered with dawning comprehension. “Of course . . . the colors of danger. The energy patterns we saw as chromatic displays and heard as indefinable sounds—those were your methods of communication?”
:Yes.:
“Then you are correct, Ko. We did not understand. How is it we can understand you now?”
“Captain,” Data said, “I believe it was my interaction with the Shapers. Before losing consciousness, I felt an intrusive force enter my central memory core. Evidently, their energy patterns proved to be compatible with my positronic brain impulses.”
:I absorbed much information from merging with Data.:
“Why with Data?” Picard asked. “Why didn’t you merge with me when you first brought me to your world?”
:You are biological . . . fragile. We feared we would harm you. When I discovered that Data had a different structure, I believed he could withstand the process of merging with less risk to him.:
“Ko,” said Data, “there is something I do not understand. Why did you not make your presence known and establish this form of communication when we first arrived on your world?”
:We were still in Interval then.:
“Interval?” Picard echoed.
:What you would call sleep, Captain Picard. Our Interval lasts one thousand of your periodic cycles called years.:
“Wow,” Gina said softly. “Where do you—uhh— sleep?”
:Deep inside the World. This Interval had one hundred such years remaining when you awakened us.:
“We awakened you? How did we do that?” asked Wesley.
“Our seismic tests, I suspect,” Data said, “our sonic probes of the interior of Domarus. Is that correct, Ko?”
:Yes, Data.:
“Ko,” said Data, “humans and other biological life forms sleep mainly to replenish their energy. If I may ask, what is the purpose of your Interval?”
The Shaper hesitated, as if groping for the right way to express herself. :Interval is our time to . . . to reflect on what has been done . . . and . . . to dream of how we wish to shape our world. And when we emerge, that is the work we do.:
“Shaping your world?” said Picard. “What do you mean? We saw no structures of any kind on this planet.”
:Structures? What is a structure?:
“Buildings—places to live or work—uhh, canals or waterways for irrigation or transport. Any artificial constructs that are added to the natural landscape.”
:I am still uncertain as to your meaning.:
Picard took a deep breath, overriding the frustration he felt at his inability to explain concepts obviously alien to the Shapers. “Beings like ourselves need protection from the elements—from rain and wind and cold temperatures, so we make shelters out of things like wood and rock. We live inside them, much like we are now inside this cavern . . . inside your world. You said you sleep inside your planet during Interval. Where do you stay after
you emerge?”
:Everywhere . . . anywhere. We do not need such shelter or protection as you.:
“Hmm. And transportation is something with which you seem to have no problem. So exactly what is it you shape?”
:Ah. I begin to understand. We do not build structures—we shape the World itself.:
“You mean the topographical features,” Picard said, “the mountains and the seas and the land?”
:Yes.:
Picard smiled in wonder. “I believe I have witnessed your work—the overnight creation of a mountain range.”
“Overnight?” said Wesley. “That’s unbelievable. That would take so much energy.”
“There is abundant energy available on such a planet as Domarus,” Data said, “much as there would be on any planet with an active core and surface features similar to those on Earth. I believe the Shapers are what might be called ‘energy-channelers’—able to tap, trap and redirect energy from such sources as geothermal, solar, wind, hydroelectric, the thermal transfer resulting from the contrast between colder seawater at greater depths and warmer currents closer to oceanic surfaces.”
“Even the energy from our phasers,” Picard added. “In essence, unlimited, eternally renewable power— the sort that would be required to perform such feats as literally moving mountains.”
“Energy-channelers would be able to draw upon all such sources,” Data said, “and transform it to their own uses.”
“Ko, is Data’s explanation correct? Is that your nature?”
:It is, Captain.:
Picard rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “A question comes to mind . . . why reshape your world after each Interval?”
:Why?: Ko’s tone implied self-evidence. :Because it is not yet perfect.:
The reply prompted a sympathetic smile from Picard. “By what standard?”
:Each Communion—what you would call a generation—has its own standard.:
“Then the standards must always be changing.”
:That is true, Captain,: Ko said with a sad flutter in her voice.
“What if perfection is unattainable?” Picard asked.
Ko’s answer began with what could not have been anything other than a knowing chuckle. :Does that mean we should not still try to achieve it? In your own history, have succeeding generations of your people reached goals that previous generations believed unattainable?:
“Yes. In fact, that has been the nature of humanity—and of most intelligent life-forms we have encountered in our travels.”
:Then we should also try.:
Picard nodded. “By all means.”
The golden sparkle closed most of the remaining distance between itself and Picard. Spinning before him, no more than an arm’s length away, it was the size of his hand, made up of radiant spokes of pure energy.
:In the past, our dreams have or have not become reality based solely on our Shaping. But this Emergence is different, Captain.:
“How so?”
:The one who leads the next Communion emerges first. The dreams of this leader guide what we do. I lead this Communion. And I dreamed a dream none have had before—and for the first time in the existence of our World, we need outsiders to achieve what I have dreamed.: Ko paused, then continued with amazement growing in its voice. :I do not think you understand the magic of this, Captain. Until these encounters with your people, we did not know that other worlds and life even existed. We thought we were alone in the Universe. We thought our World WAS the Universe.:
Picard glanced up toward the sky he could not see from this cavern, the sky he knew to be out there, above this world as above all worlds, where the sea of stars spread wide, where the warmth of uncountable suns nourished so much life. “You are not alone, Ko, I can assure you.”
:Though I do not yet comprehend the nature of this Universe, or understand all that I have learned from Data, I now know the truth of what you say—but we did not know before. And yet, even without that knowledge, I somehow dreamed of things I did not, could not know. And your people came here—and we have met—and that is the magic. So I ask what no Shaper has even conceived of asking before—will you help us shape our dreams?:
Chapter Seventeen
STANDING AT THE science station at the back of the Enterprise bridge, Geologist Casby shook her head in complete disbelief as she stared at her small viewscreen. Riker and Geordi stood next to her. Together, they watched a neon-tinted computer graphic of mountains migrating across the Domaran landscape.
“Casby,” said Riker, “are you sure about this?”
“It’s the most unbelievable thing I’ve ever witnessed . . . but it’s real, and it’s happening down on that planet right now.”
Riker turned to the chief engineer. “Geordi, are you sure our sensors are functioning properly?”
“Absolutely, sir.”
“But . . . those mountains are moving.” Riker jabbed a finger at the computer screen. “Mountains do not move, Casby.”
She spread her hands helplessly. “Apparently, Commander, they do here.”
Not only were they moving, they were changing configuration. As the mountain range drifted eastward, several distinct peaks combined into two, then two into one giant mountain looming over a vast expanse of prairie. After that, the impossible motion stopped.
“Casby,” Riker asked tentatively, “is that it? Are they finished?”
“I have no idea, sir.”
The group at the science console turned when they heard Worf mutter a brusque growl just behind them. He scowled at his own sensor panel. “Commander Riker, an energy anomaly has just been detected off the starboard stern.”
“Anything on visual?”
“Affirmative, sir.”
“Main viewer, Worf,” Riker ordered.
In the seconds it took for Worf to redirect the signal from the starboard scanners, the anomaly had resolved into an intense variation of the by-now familiar chromatic energy apparition. But the colored streamers coiled in on themselves and dissipated— leaving the totally unexpected sight of the shuttlecraft Onizuka floating free in space a kilometer away from the starship’s tail.
Geordi let out a whoop of joy. “All right! Would you look what the cat dragged in!”
“Incoming message, Commander,” Worf said. “From what the cat dragged in.”
Riker circled down the side ramp to take up a position in front of the command seats. “On audio, Worf.”
Among the bridge crew, collective breath remained held—until a welcome voice came over the speaker. “Picard to Enterprise. The Onizuka is ready to come aboard.”
“Riker here, sir. Glad to hear that. Is everyone okay?”
“All fine, Number One. And we’ve got quite a tale to tell. However, we are going to need a little assistance—the shuttle’s engines are inoperative.”
“Stand by, Captain. Geordi, a tractor beam, if you don’t mi—”
Before Riker could finish his sentence, the glowing tractor beam had already locked on, giving the shuttle its ride home to the hangar deck.
Captain Arit’s skepticism showed in her narrowed eyes as she and Picard faced each other on the Glin-Kale bridge. “They do what, Picard?”
Picard stood before Arit seated in the command chair, with Jevlin and First Valend Egin flanking her. “I found it somewhat difficult to believe myself. But Ko’s little demonstration erased all doubts. Seeing mountains actually move before your very eyes is quite a breathtaking experience.”
“And this—this—world-shaping, this is what they do? That’s their reason for being?”
“So it would appear. The irony is, while they have the power to physically alter a whole planet—and they have been doing so for as long as they can remember—they cannot leave their world. It’s as if they are part of the natural order of things. They could no more be removed from Domarus than the wind could be removed from my world.”
“And you say this is their first encounter with life from somewhere else?”
“That’s correct,” Picard said.
“Let me get this,” Jevlin said. “They sleep for a thousand years at a time?”
Picard nodded. “Our shuttle crew accidentally woke a few of them—including Ko, their Communion leader—ahead of schedule. At first, our presence simply piqued their curiosity. Then, when they sensed the shuttle was in danger during our initial dispute, they rescued it.”
“But why did they hold it, Picard?” Arit asked. “Why didn’t they just transport it back to the Enterprise?”
“That curiosity factor. Though they couldn’t understand our words, they were able to recognize our conflict, and they guessed that the shuttle was important in some way—and they believed that the Enterprise would stay to recover it.”
“They were right about that,” Arit said.
“But their reason for keeping us in the vicinity was not a hostile one. It was the only way they could think of to gain the time needed to figure out a way to communicate with us.”
“So, tell me, Picard,” Arit said, “what is this dream of theirs? I can’t believe creatures with the power to sculpt a planet instantly would need anyone else to make their dreams come true.”
“That’s what I thought. But they do. And it is a very simple desire, actually. Now that they know life exists elsewhere, they want to share what they do with beings other than themselves.” Unsure of how Arit and the Tenirans would react to what he was about to say, Picard paused for a deep breath. He knew there was only one way to find out. “You need a world on which to live,” he said, “and they have one to share. They have invited the Teniran survivors to stay on Domarus.”
Picard glanced at the Tenirans arrayed around him, from face to face—and, with some dismay, he found less than wholehearted acceptance. Only Arit looked as if she was ready to call this planet home. She turned to her first officer, whom Picard had by now realized was also her most trusted friend.
“Well, Jev, what do you think?”
“I don’t know, Cap’n. We wanted a world of our own. These Shaper things—what if they change their minds about sharing later on? What defense have we got against life-forms that can do what they can do?”
PRECHANCE TO DREAM Page 18
