Enigma Ship

by J. Steven York, Christina F. York

  Gomez noticed Mr. Omthon looking at her with an odd expression; not threatening, but pained, almost apologetic. Something in his eyes told her confronting Newport wasn’t the way to go.

  She also wondered about Newport’s grip on reality. Telepaths were a semi-reasonable paranoia, but all the shape-shifting Changelings that ruled the Dominion had gone back to the Gamma Quadrant after the war, and Gomez didn’t even know what a “Section 31”was.

  “Sir, I’m telling you what I believe to be true. I will admit that, since leaving our ship, we’ve been feeling some, uh, confusion. Disorientation. Perhaps your doctor should take a look at us.”

  Newport’s expression immediately softened, and he looked hesitant. It was almost painful to watch a Starfleet officer in this condition. Clearly this was his personal simulation, and he was deeply locked into what Reg had called “hyperreality.”

  Newport took a deep breath, slowly released it, then sat heavily back in his chair. “Understand, Commander Gomez, I’d like to believe you. Our scans tell us you are what you claim you are, though we know scans can be fooled. All of your identification data match the Federation database, and we do show you assigned to the da Vinci. But you must understand, we escaped this ‘Enigma’ days ago, with the help of Mr. Omthon here and the aid of the Chinook. We’re now three and a half light-years away from your Enigma, and your story doesn’t make a bit of sense.”

  * * *

  Gomez looked over her shoulder, at the guard who now held their tricorders and the magnetic probe. They were being led down a corridor, and this time the security officers had their phasers drawn.

  They were being led to the brig, not the VIP quarters.

  Newport had been conflicted about giving the order, but he seemed to be sinking into a paranoid fantasy, finding spies behind every bulkhead.

  She wondered what it was like, to have almost godlike power over events and your surroundings, and to have no idea it was happening. To have no idea any of it might, or might not, be real.

  For Newport, the universe was exactly what his unconscious mind expected it to be. It was no wonder he was intoxicated by the experience.

  Enigma was a trap from which so many had never escaped, and Gomez could understand, with frightening clarity, exactly why.

  The tricorders, both clipped to the guard’s belt, began to chirp a warning tone. The guard stopped and stared at them suspiciously, then pulled one out and flipped it open. “What’s this?”

  “I have no idea,” said Gomez. “I didn’t leave mine running.” She looked at Duffy, who shook his head.

  The guard stared at the screen, licking his lips nervously, then turned the tricorder around so that they could see it. Gomez read the text there.

  “WILL ATTEMPT TO SHUT DOWN ALL ENIGMA HOLOGRAMS AND FORCE FIELDS, 2100 HOURS SHIP’S TIME. BELIEVE WE WILL SUCCEED. WILL ATTEMPT TO LOCATE AND RESCUE THEN. THIS IS OUR ONLY TRANSMISSION TILL 2100. MAZEL TOV.—GOLD.”

  The guard looked worried. “What does this mean?”

  “For us,” said Duffy, “it’s great news. For the countless other beings I suspect are on this ship, it means an ugly death in the vacuum of space.”

  Gomez nodded grimly.

  Pattie looked up at them. “Then we have all reached the same conclusion.”

  “Enigma is not a ship,” said Gomez.

  “A ship, perhaps,” said P8, “but not as we know it.”

  “More of a self-sustaining holographic construct,” said Duffy, “pretending to be a ship. If the da Vinci actually has found a way to shut it down, everyone on board not protected from space by a ship, suit, or,” he nodded towards Pattie, “their own physiology, will be killed. We could be talking about millions of sentient beings.”

  The guards all looked concerned and confused, but nobody was insisting they continue towards the brig. The crewman holding the tricorder shook his head in confusion. “What are you all talking about?”

  “What I’ve been trying to tell you all along,” said Wayne Omthon, stepping out from an alcove where he’d evidently been hiding. “None of this is real. It’s some kind of illusion, and we’re all trapped inside.”

  Duffy nodded. “You weren’t dumped directly into this simulation either, were you? You saw enough of the rest of Enigma to suspect this wasn’t real.”

  “And to suspect that the S.S. Vulpecula that came to pick me up wasn’t real either. This ship, this crew, are the only things I know for sure are real, so I picked a fight with my captain, or her simulation, to contrive a way to stay here. Fortunately, Newport and I have become chess buddies.”

  He grinned, and somehow Gomez felt compelled to grin back, despite the dire situation they were facing.

  “Being good enough at chess to be a convincing loser has its value,” he continued. “He hasn’t been in a huge hurry to get me off the ship, and I’ve managed to build a level of trust.”

  The security guard reached a decision. He glanced at his fellows, to confirm they were in agreement, then handed Gomez her tricorder. “We’ve got to get out of sight. In here,” he said, leading them into a service area, and pulling the cover off a Jefferies tube.

  They all climbed inside, crawling through the low tube. “I’m Lieutenant Roth,” said the guard with the tricorders. “These,” he gestured at the other security officers, “are Chen and Vaches.”

  “Okay, my turn to ask what the heck is going on,” said Duffy.

  They reached a service junction where there was room for them all to stop and talk in secret.

  “I never though I’d be saying this,” said Roth, as he handed Duffy and Pattie back their gear, “but this is mutiny. We’ve all known the captain was acting strangely, and Mr. Omthon has been trying to tell us we’re trapped in some kind of simulation that’s somehow affecting the captain’s mind.”

  “It’s not his fault,” said Gomez. “The simulation is being created from telepathic scans of his subconscious, and it’s much more realistic than any holodeck. It’s almost like he’s intoxicated, or hypnotized. He isn’t responsible for his actions.”

  Roth sighed. “None of us could dismiss it, but we weren’t reluctant to embrace it, either. Then Mr. Omthon here showed up, and the pieces started fitting together.”

  “The first officer is with us,” said Omthon, “but he’s under too much scrutiny to act directly. I think we’ve got maybe a third of the security force, several of the senior staff, and I’ve managed to convince most of engineering, but this could get ugly.”

  The youngest of the security officers wiped his mouth with an unsteady hand. “That message. It sounds like we could just sit tight. In a few hours we’d know. For sure. The captain would see too.”

  “We do that,” said Duffy, “and millions could die, starting with—” He blinked. “The away team from the Chinook, where are they?”

  Roth looked surprised. “They beamed back to the Chinook. Last I knew they were headed into Starbase 12 for resupply.”

  “I’m afraid the Chinook is on its way to Salem II,” said Gomez, “without those two crew members. The ship they beamed aboard is a holographic simulation, one that’s going to blink out of existence at 2100 hours and leave them floating in space. It’s barely possible that the Lincoln or the da Vinci can find them and transport them aboard before they die, but there will be too many to save.”

  “Other ships,” explained Pattie, “have become trapped here. This may have been happening for centuries.”

  “Mutiny,” said Roth, seemingly just trying out the word, but every time he said it, he made a face as though he’d tasted something sour.

  “Wait,” said Gomez, grinning, then laughing. “Maybe we don’t need to mutiny. You saw what happened when we challenged Captain Newport’s vision of reality? What if, instead, we give him exactly what he wants?”

  Duffy looked skeptical. “We’ve got just a few hours to pull a con on the captain, and find a way to get a message to da Vinci.”

  “We can do it, and try to pick u
p the Chinook away team while we’re at it.” Gomez felt a surge of adrenaline. It was a risk, a huge one. But it was their only chance.

  Duffy shrugged. “You’re insane, but I’m game. What choice have we got?”

  “None,” replied Gomez.

  “One problem,” said Pattie, “can we get to Starbase 12 before 2100 hours?”

  Omthon shook his head. “This is a fast ship, but not even at maximum warp.”

  “If this were real distance, in real space,” said Gomez. “It isn’t, so we’re just going to have to change the laws of physics.” She looked at Duffy. “You ever hear of something called ‘Section 31’?”

  “Never.”

  “Me either, which is funny considering we’re about to join.”

  Chapter

  10

  Gold stood in the shuttlebay, hands clenched behind his back, gazing out into the unmoving stars. Here, in the darkness of deep space, he could clearly see the colors, a red giant here, a yellow dwarf there, a glowing stellar nursery looking like luminous cotton candy.

  It was beautiful.

  It was false.

  He knew he was looking at Enigma, that it filled a sweep of sky that encompassed his entire view, but his eyes told him otherwise. He could just make out the flashing formation lights on the Augmented Personnel Module, still standing vigil at the gates to Enigma, but otherwise, the sky seemed empty.

  He held up his hand near the force field, feeling the tingle of energy, and perhaps only imagining he could feel the bite of bitter cold.

  He heard a footstep behind him. Some senses, at least, were still trustworthy.

  “Come to lecture me, Corsi?”

  The security chief stepped up beside him, and looked out into the star-flecked darkness. “Not at all, Captain. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind some company.”

  He said nothing, and neither did she. Finally, after several minutes, she broke the silence. “It’s hard, isn’t it? Knowing what orders to give, what decisions to make?”

  “It’s very hard. Especially when people’s lives are on the line, and people’s lives are always on the line. There’s never enough time, never enough information, never enough certainty.”

  He shrugged toward the flashing lights of the module. “He’s back out there. Soloman. He asked to go back out and wait, and I gave permission.”

  He paused to see if Corsi had anything to say. She remained silent.

  “Sometimes,” he continued, “you just have to trust people, that they’ll do the right thing, that they’ll make things work. When you have a good crew, that’s the best thing you can do. Just don’t get in their way.”

  Corsi chuckled slightly. It was a startling sound coming from her. “You think I need to learn not to do that, don’t you sir?”

  “You should let them run, Corsi. The trick is, you shouldn’t let them run too far.”

  “Is that what happened this time, sir?”

  He smiled sadly. “That’s the hardest part about making decisions, Corsi. Sometimes, you make the wrong ones. But you can never be certain until it’s all over.”

  “And now?”

  “Now, we see what happens.”

  * * *

  Captain Vince Newport, exhausted and vaguely troubled, stepped through the doors into his quarters. It was dark inside.

  “Lights,” he said, and took two more steps before realizing nothing had happened.

  “Lights,” he said again, more forcefully this time.

  “Lights,” said another voice, “reduced intensity.”

  The lights brightened slowly to a soft glow, revealing a woman sitting on the couch under the windows. He recognized Commander Gomez, casually holding a phaser on him. She smiled at his look of surprise.

  “I believe,” he said stiffly, “I sent you to the brig.”

  “We didn’t like it there, Captain, and we simply don’t stay where we don’t want to stay.” She shrugged. “We’re very resourceful people. It’s a job qualification for our line of work.”

  “You are Section 31. I knew it.”

  Her smile faded. “You don’t know anything, Captain, and if you do know anything, you should forget it.” Her voice was harsh. “Who we are is on a need-to-know basis, and frankly, you just don’t need to know.” She looked down at the phaser. “I’m sorry about this, Captain, I just wanted to make sure we had time to talk uninterrupted. Do I have your word, as a Starfleet officer, that you’ll hear me out?”

  “My word,” said Newport. “You have it.”

  Gomez lowered the phaser, placing it on the cushion next to her, still within easy reach. “Be assured, Captain, our interests in the current situation are the same. We work for the security of the Federation, and that security is threatened.”

  Newport nodded, as she continued.

  “As you suspected, your ship has been under a subtle kind of attack, and it all centers on the Enigma object.”

  He chuckled. “You’re not going to tell me we’re still trapped inside again, are you?”

  “No, of course not. We were testing you. Your resolve. How easy it is to deceive you. You passed, Captain, which is very, very good, because we need you right now. The landing party you returned to the Chinook were not the same personnel that left that ship. They were alien imposters, and it is vital we get them into custody and onto this ship before they have a chance to act.”

  Newport’s eagerness quivered in his voice. “The Chinook is at Starbase 12. We could be there in just over a day.”

  She laughed. “That will be too late, Captain. But I did say we were resourceful. Perhaps you’re wondering where my comrades are? They’re covertly making certain modifications to your deflector dish and warp drive. These modifications would be much easier with your cooperation.”

  “What kind of modifications?” He licked his lips, and Gomez suppressed a triumphant grin. She had been right.

  “The hand-held device we arrived with, you saw it?”

  “You said it was a magnetic probe.”

  “Yet it doesn’t look like any magnetic probe in your database, does it?” She rose in a single swift motion, retrieving her phaser and holding it lightly at her side. She wouldn’t need it, but it was part of her masquerade. “It looks just enough like one to obscure its real purpose. It’s a warp slipstream overdrive module, secret technology obtained from salvage of an experimental Jem’Hadar strike ship. With it, the Lincoln can reach Starbase 12 in less than three hours. Once there, it will be up to you to arrange for the transfer of the false personnel to your ship. I’m confident you can handle the assignment.”

  Newport squared his shoulders, pleased with her endorsement.

  “They shouldn’t give us any trouble,” she said. “They can’t without exposing themselves.”

  “You need my help.”

  “The Federation needs your help, Captain, and your pledge of secrecy. Can we count on you?”

  A smile crept across Newport’s face. “You bet you can. I’ll talk to my chief engineer, arrange full cooperation.”

  “Thank you, Captain Newport.” Gomez started for the door, anxious to make her escape.

  “What should I do next?” Newport asked.

  She turned back, her expression serious. “Make your call to the chief engineer, then go to the bridge and set course for Starbase 12. Have your conn officer engage at warp six-point-seven. By then, the first modifications to your warp drive should be complete, and that will get us there in plenty of time.” She grinned. “Then you can find out just how fast your ship can go. I think it will exceed all your expectations.”

  * * *

  Gomez looked out an open sensor port through the deflector dish. Beyond the glowing blue of the grid, the sky shimmered in waves of rainbow colors, and multicolored stars streaked past at a furious pace.

  Duffy was standing next to her as they were making modifications to the deflector. “Well,” he said, “I’ll say this for Captain Newport, he’s got a vivid imagination. I always won
dered what slipstream overdrive travel would be like. Whatever a slipstream overdrive is.”

  Gomez and Omthon wrestled a field booster coil into its mounting, as Pattie crawled underneath to secure it in place. Gomez stopped to wipe the sweat off her brow. “I was improvising. I thought I did pretty well, under the circumstances. I even remembered to tell him we wouldn’t need to use the deflector while in slipstream, which makes our work down here a lot easier.” She turned to Omthon. “Thanks for your help. I’m not anxious to involve the Lincoln‘s engineers in our changes here, but getting a message out to the da Vinci is going to be a close thing.”

  He smiled. “Nobody wants out of this place more than I do.”

  The smile made her blush for some reason, and there was that smell again. “Has anyone ever told you your skin is the color of pistachio ice cream?”

  He laughed.

  “Or that you smell nice?” That slipped out somehow, and it surprised even her. She glanced over, and saw Duffy giving her the eye.

  The smile faded, and he seemed embarrassed. “My grandmother was green Orion. It’s the pheromones. They’re more prominent with the females, but males have them too. I’ve spent most of my life trying to figure out if it’s a blessing, or a curse.”

  Gomez felt herself blush even more. Idiot, idiot! “Pheromones,” she said, trying to sound professional. Duffy was still looking at her. Well, a little jealousy isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

  Mercifully, Pattie changed the subject. “We’re cutting it close. It will be small satisfaction knowing we saved the Chinook team if millions of sentients die.”

  Gomez shook her head. “I’m open to suggestions, but those Cochrane solenoids we installed have to be brought up to working temperature slowly, or the cores will crack. Simulated laws of physics we can monkey with, but this is real equipment, and real physical laws. We aren’t even sure this is going to work.”