Dark Mirror - Diane Duane [36]
“I would concur,” Data said. “I am currently “piggybacking” an active internal scan presently being conducted aboard the other ship. Unfortunately, since this surveillance is passive, we are unable to choose what location in the other ship we view. But I am logging RF’-TRANSITION frequencies and optical output and input data for each view we get. With random factors operating in our favor, we should be able to return to a given established view later, at least while the eavesdropping probe remains in range and undetected.”
I hate it when even Data admits we need luck on our side, Riker thought. “If they show any signs of detecting it,” he said, “I want it out of there on the double. I don’t want them getting their hands on any of our technology. Destroy it if necessary.”
“Understood,” Data said. For a few seconds, the screen was again empty of crewmen, showing an empty corridor. Then it changed view again, to a different hallway this time, looking down toward a turbolift.
“I am uncertain whether the scan we are seeing is being directed by someone aboard the ship or is an automatic function,” Data said. “But one thing is certain: this Enterprise has many more internal visual pickups than our own does. There are the usual video pickups associated with personal viewscreens and data readout locations, as well as the basic security surveillance system in high-security areas like engineering and the computer cores … but also many more, spread throughout the ship, even in crew quarters. Moreover, those appear not to be under the control of the occupants. The implications are … distressing.”
“No kidding,” Riker said softly as the view changed again, engineering this time. Crewmen moved about their work with what seemed to him more intensity than necessary. No one he had so far seen on this ship seemed able to move with any kind of ease. But why should they? Riker thought then. When anyone might be looking at you, anytime, to see if you’re doing your job—and if you’re not … He shook his head, thinking about the fear of punishment that Deanna had reported in “Stewart.”
“You’re keeping tabs of the names and ranks of anyone who shows up in this scan, of course,” Riker said.
“Of course. So far we have seen forty-four crewmen whose presence is duplicated aboard our own ship, and only five who are unknown. This would closely approximate—”
The view changed, and Data broke off in midsentence, staring along with everyone else. It was the bridge. At least, the shape was the same, and the general structure of it. But there were differences.
It was darker. Their night? Riker thought, then shook his head, doubting it. Paneling and furnishings were in the same sort of gunmetal gray as the exterior of the ship, with lines of paler gray being used more as highlighting than anything else. The computer installations around the upper tier, too, were different. The engineering station was about as it should have been, but mission Ops and the science stations were much reduced, and combined with engineering. Every other station in the upper tier, from the starboard lifts to the main viewer, was now part of a long sweep of weapons-control consoles, with crewmen standing at them, unnervingly vigilant. Riker stared at those consoles, with tree upon tree of power-level readings and weapons status readouts; he thought of the kind of phaser power and photon torpedo loads this vessel must be carrying … and he felt like shuddering.
It was not just the emphasis on weaponry: it was that combined with the general look of the bridge, for though dark, it was also much more luxurious than his own Enterprise’s. The three center seats, empty at the moment, had a plush, easy-chair look about them, and the centermost of them, the captain’s chair, looked more like a throne than anything else. You were plainly meant to enjoy sitting in them, at the heart of all this deadly power. Just as plainly to Riker, you were meant to enjoy using it.
The broad back of one crewman had been turned to them until now, while he studied