“There is no change in the formation or emotional state of our captors,” Fife replied tonelessly. “Several hours ago, two additional spheres merged with those currently composing the energy field, but they did not disrupt or strengthen the field in any measurable way.”
O’Donnell looked up to see Fife’s eyes glued resolutely to the floor.
“What’s the matter?”
Fife sighed deeply and stared, stone-faced, at O’Donnell. “Crewman Bell and Ensign Lamoth were found dead an hour ago in hydroponics four,” he said stoically.
O’Donnell rose to his feet in alarm. “What happened?” he demanded.
“Doctor Peyman has just completed the autopsy. Apparently they suffered acute, instantaneous neurological damage.”
“Cause?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Fife asked with open hostility.
O’Donnell ran his hands over what had once been a mass of dark, thick curls. To this day it surprised him when his fingers found only the hard, cold skin covering his head where his hair used to be.
“Why those two?” O’Donnell asked as evenly as possible. “We’ve been ‘captive,’ as you put it, for over a week, and this is the first sign of violence from the Children directed at us.”
“Maybe they’ve just been biding their time,” Fife suggested. “Or maybe they wanted to encourage us to work faster.”
O’Donnell couldn’t shake the feeling that Fife was holding something back. Eyeing him warily, he replied, “Somehow I doubt it.”
Fife’s eyes again hit the floor. “The doctor did find a fair amount of undigested tomatoes in their digestive tracts.”
Finally O’Donnell found his anger.
“Damn it all to hell. I gave the order—” he shouted.
“And although I disagreed with it, I did pass it along,” Fife shouted back.
O’Donnell’s breath came in rapid spurts. “You don’t have the luxury of disagreeing with my orders, Commander. And if you passed it along as a suggestion, so help me you’ll spend the rest of this mission—”
“I gave the order, Captain,” Fife said again, this time with greater control over his emotions. “I didn’t understand it—”
“The only thing, the only thing we know for sure about these creatures is that the presence of living, growing botanical organisms fills them with absolute delight,” O’Donnell replied, aghast. “By eating the thing they hold dear, we could be perceived as destroying it.”
“They were hungry,” Fife replied, struggling again with his anger. “They couldn’t have known.”
“I gave the order that no one was to eat anything that wasn’t replicated, Fife!” O’Donnell bellowed. “And you should know me well enough by now to understand that when I trouble myself to give an order, I have good reason. You don’t have to understand it. You just have to follow it. That’s one thing I didn’t think you would have a problem grasping.”
“It won’t happen again, Captain,” Fife replied.
“Are you really the best Starfleet can do?” Genov-see thundered in Liam’s mind.
“Not now!” O’Donnell shouted.
Strained silence filled the room.
After a moment, Fife ventured, “I beg your pardon, sir?”
“Assemble the command staff in the briefing room in one hour,” O’Donnell replied, his rage finally spent.
Fife looked like he had never been so happy to be dismissed as he hurried from the room.
Url watched anxiously as the other bridge officers took seats around the small rectangular table that was the briefing room’s only furnishing. He paid special attention to Commander Fife, who appeared to be showing the strain of their predicament more than the rest of them. His initial impression of his XO was that he was efficient and demanding; not unusual in young officers who clearly aspired to one day command a ship of their own. He’d had no reason to doubt Fife’s abilities until this crisis had begun. Though he had been initially inclined to share Fife’s concerns about their captain, once O’Donnell had begun to interact more regularly with the crew, Url had decided that though he was eccentric, he certainly seemed to know what he was doing. Url would gladly follow the smartest person in the room before the strictest. As the last few days had unfolded, however, he’d seen Fife’s hackles arranged in a permanently raised position. What had at first appeared to be concern about O’Donnell might now more generously be described as contempt. Url was third in Demeter’s command structure and did not relish the idea of constant tension between his two superiors, especially now, when every moment they lived was the apparent gift of a mercurial alien species.
Fife said nothing as he took the seat to Url’s left. Vincent and Falto both studied the table’s surface in a clear attempt to avoid addressing Fife. After what seemed like an eternity, Captain O’Donnell finally entered and distributed a set of padds to each of the officers present.
“Though I’m sure you’ve all enjoyed our little detour into the territory of the Children of the Storm as much as I have,” O’Donnell began, “I believe we’ve stayed here long enough.”
Fife’s eyes shot up and fixated on O’Donnell. They were filled with dubious hope. Faint smiles played over the lips of Vincent and Falto. Url found the captain’s light tone refreshing, given the obvious tension that was in need of regular fracturing.
Settling into his chair, the captain continued, “The good news is, we have discovered a means of distracting the Children. It appears that as long as we provide them with objects of constant interest, they will allow us to go on living. But this is clearly not a permanent solution. Nor was it ever meant to be,” he directed toward Fife.
“Ensign Brill has just confirmed my estimate that we will run through our supply of seeds inside of the next fifteen days. He’s managed to prolong our supplies, but they are not infinite.”
Url inhaled sharply. They were at least nine days away from being missed by the rest of the fleet. Heaven only knew how many days beyond that they might require to locate Demeter and prepare a rescue operation.
“But there is no cause for alarm,” O’Donnell said patiently. “The fourth planet of this system holds the key to our freedom.”
Seeing the confused stares whipping around the table, Url asked, “How so, Captain?”
“It is my belief that if we could provide the Children with a constant source of amusement, they might lose interest in us.”
“But the fourth planet isn’t capable of sustaining life, sir,” Url interjected.
“Never mind that,” Fife added. “How can we possibly seed the fourth planet without helm control?”
“Both good questions,” O’Donnell continued, unfazed. “The fourth planet isn’t capable of sustaining humanoid life, nor most botanical species which thrive in oxygen/nitrogen atmospheres. I have successfully created a hybrid grass, however, along with six different strains of bacteria to help it along, that has shown itself to be compatible with the planet’s atmosphere. Naturally it will take years for it to spread beyond any initial planting, but I believe if the Children’s actions thus far are typical, they might be able to help our little plants along their way.”
Url was impressed. He’d known O’Donnell only by reputation before joining Demeter’s crew. He was best remembered as the man who single-handedly saved Kressari from decades of famine that threatened to eradicate a large portion of their population. He doubted that most other Starfleet captains would have been able to provide this kind of solution, though some of their science officers would certainly have possessed the requisite skills.
“That still doesn’t explain—” Fife began.
“How to get the seeds to the surface,” O’Donnell finished for him. “Yes, Commander.” Turning to Url, he asked, “We were able to successfully launch our message buoy through the energy field, weren’t we?”
“Yes, Captain,” Url replied. “It penetrated the field without disrupting it.”
“As I suspect one of our robotic planter drones will
as well,” O’Donnell said, smiling. “But just in case the Children doubt our intentions, I intend to fill a portion of the drone’s storage hold with a few of our seedlings. I don’t know how else to make the drone nonthreatening enough for them to allow it to pass all the way to the planet’s surface,” O’Donnell admitted.
“How long will it take the drone to do its work once it reaches the surface?” Fife asked.
“Ten hours at least,” O’Donnell replied. “And without the Children’s help it will be days, if not weeks, before the first buds might be visible. I’m hoping we’ll be able to access the drone’s command systems from the bridge in case adjustments need to be made once it actually samples the surface soil. I’ve programmed it with every variation I can think of, but that won’t matter if there’s one I’ve missed.”
Vincent had been following the captain’s words enthusiastically, but seemed to deflate a little. “Captain, during the first twelve minutes of our battle with the Children, while we were still in range of Quirinal and Planck, we were never able to establish communications. If that was intentional on the Children’s part, and not simply a by-product of the energy field, I doubt that we’ll be able to sustain a communications link with the drone.”
O’Donnell nodded. “I agree. But I’m hoping the Children will see what we’re trying to do. We’ve already gained a little of their trust. All we need is a little more for this to work.”
“Url,” Fife asked, “when you say our buoy penetrated the field without disrupting it, do you mean that the field was dispersed around it?”
“I’d have to go back and study the readings,” Url replied honestly. “But in theory, I suppose it must have.”
Fife smiled for the first time in days. “That might be all we need, Captain.”
O’Donnell turned a quizzical gaze toward Fife. “I don’t follow,” he said.
“The launch of the drone might distract the Children, even for a few seconds. If sustaining the energy field surrounding our ship requires their full concentration, it might waver enough for those seconds for us to regain helm control.”
“And go where?” O’Donnell asked.
Fife’s eyes began to blaze. “Wherever we want.”
Falto seemed to catch some of Fife’s fire. “I’ve been studying the field for several days now,” he said. “It has remained constant, despite the motion of the life-forms within it. There have been a few noticeable variances, however, that seem to correspond to our planting cycles.”
“How so?” O’Donnell inquired.
“Whenever our specimens reach the peak of their life cycle, the field decreases slightly in intensity.”
“They’re busy enjoying the view,” Fife interjected, clearly pleased.
“So what exactly are you suggesting?” O’Donnell demanded of Fife.
“We should plot a slipstream jump, coordinated with our planting cycle and the drone’s launch. If there is a fraction of a second during which the Children are sufficiently distracted that gives us helm control, we might be able to execute the jump before they realize we’re gone.”
“Or they might decide to destroy us,” O’Donnell countered.
Url could see that it would take more than this to dim Fife’s resolve.
“I think that’s a risk worth taking.”
O’Donnell heaved a deep sigh, then studied the faces of Url, Vincent, and Falto. Url could see that he was torn. The scientist in him probably wanted to see the fruits of his labor. But the captain in him couldn’t deny that Fife’s suggestion was worth considering.
After a few moments’ thought, the captain in him clearly won out.
“Very well,” O’Donnell decided. “But I’d feel better about this if we could give it a test run.”
“How do you propose we do that?” Fife asked.
“We could launch a drone, coordinated with a growth cycle, and study the readings. If the window we’re hoping for appears, we could launch another a few hours later. If, by then, the Children see what we’re trying to accomplish on the fourth planet, we might get an even wider space of time during which to establish helm control.”
Fife gave the captain’s argument its due, then shook his head. “There’s no way to know for sure that we’ll get more than one shot at this. For all we know, the Children will destroy the drone before it reaches the surface. They might think it’s a weapon of some sort. Or the drone could fail to do its job. There are simply too many variables, in my opinion, Captain.”
O’Donnell ran a hand over the top of his head, a gesture Url now associated with contemplation on his part.
Finally O’Donnell shrugged. “You may be right.”
Fife rose from his seat. “We’ll prepare the necessary calculations and be ready at the peak of the next growth cycle.”
O’Donnell nodded faintly as the rest of the staff stood to follow Fife out. Url paused for a moment to note the disappointment clear on O’Donnell’s face. The captain in him may have won the argument, but the scientist clearly bristled at having his work relegated to the status of a tactical distraction.
The scientist had Url’s sympathy, but he found himself increasingly grateful that the command officer in O’Donnell was every bit as fierce as its counterpart. He returned to his station, wondering if Fife had appreciated the subtlety of the battle that had just been waged, or how much his victory had cost Captain O’Donnell.
Chapter Nineteen
STARDATE 58461.9
U.S.S. QUIRINAL
Chakotay watched anxiously as Ensign Lasren reentered the cargo bay aboard Quirinal that housed the captive sphere. B’Elanna and Conlon had spent the morning working with Lieutenant Bryce to modulate the psionic field to clear a small corner of the bay, from which Lasren would try again to reach the inhabitants of the sphere. They had also successfully realigned the field’s intensity so that it could be lowered at intervals to make it safer for Lasren. Despite Doctor Sharak’s confirmation that the ensign had suffered no permanent damage from his first encounter, Chakotay was not convinced that the risk Lasren was about to undertake could be justified. When he’d shared these concerns with Lasren, all but offering to support him should he wish to demur, the ensign had insisted that he wanted to try again. Apparently his first contact with the Children had filled him with concern that extended beyond himself, or the rest of the crew. Lasren seemed convinced that the Children needed him, though he couldn’t explain exactly how he knew this.
Chakotay had seen and personally experienced enough esoteric mental journeys to trust Lasren’s instincts, but that didn’t lessen his fears for the young man’s safety.
Eden stood by Chakotay’s side. Doctor Sharak waited a few paces behind, studying the tricorder that was linked to the neural scanner affixed to Lasren’s forehead. Apparently Doctor Sal had chosen not to continue to monitor their efforts to communicate with the Children, and from Eden’s report of the first round, Chakotay got the impression that Sal was less than thrilled by their continuing efforts.
Lasren’s combadge was set to an open channel linked to B’Elanna’s in what was left of Quirinal’s engine room. On his instructions, B’Elanna would adjust the field intensity until they found a level with which he could work.
Chakotay watched as the ensign calmly seated himself cross-legged on the floor of the bay and heard him ask B’Elanna to reduce the field’s intensity by one degree.
Eden tensed as soon as Lasren spoke, adding to Chakotay’s discomfort. Despite all of the precautions being taken, she clearly did not trust the situation. Chakotay wondered why, if it bothered her this much, she had agreed to allow it at all, despite Lasren’s obvious determination.
Lasren appeared to be fine, however, and progressed through three further field reductions before signaling for B’Elanna to hold the intensity.
Half an hour later, he rose calmly from his place and advised B’Elanna to restore the field. He emerged from the bay pale and clearly exhausted by his efforts.
“What have you learned, Ensign?” Eden asked, as soon as he joined them.
Lasren took a moment to collect his thoughts, then said, “They don’t understand that their lives will ever be different than they are right now.”
“So they are dying?”
Lasren nodded. “They’ve never experienced captivity like this. They have no context for it. It fills them with rage, but there is no outlet for that rage, given the strength of the psionic field. Many of them have fallen into despair. Some have already been lost.”
“They told you all this?” Chakotay asked.
“No.” Lasren shook his head. “They are, in some ways, the purest beings I have ever encountered. Their feelings are simple. No, they’re single, if that makes any sense. There are two distinct emotional states present. The aggressive, rage-filled few, and many more who are simply seeking a way out. But none of them could speak directly with me. I gathered what I could from their emotions. I actually think some of them might have sensed me, but they could not or would not respond.”
Chakotay turned to Eden. “Seven and Patel have suggested that the different resonance frequencies present in each of the spheres might indicate a differentiation of function. This sphere currently has two distinct frequencies.”
“That is exactly what I gathered, Captain,” Lasren said. “If I had to assign ‘duties,’ I’d suggest weapons and navigation, which, given what they were doing aboard Quirinal, might be all they would need.”
“Maybe this sphere doesn’t have any ‘communicators,’” Eden suggested.
“That doesn’t bode well for our efforts here,” Chakotay replied.
“With your permission, I’d like to keep working with them,” Lasren requested of Eden.
“What more do you hope to learn?” she asked.
“If we intend to use them to bargain for Demeter’s return, they need to survive awhile longer,” Lasren said. “Given enough time, I might be able to do more than sense them. I might be able to establish some form of indirect communication. Or at the very least, I might be able to comfort them a little. If I can make them understand that we don’t intend to hold them forever, it might raise their spirits long enough for them to survive until we locate Demeter.”
Star Trek: Voyager: Children of the Storm Page 24
