Dyson Sphere - Charles R. Pellegrino [37]
“More effort into navigation and deceleration,” shouted Captain Dalen.
“Negative,” a voice from Main Engineering said. “This is as slow and controlled as we’ll get.”
“Set us down,” Captain Dalen said. “The water will slow us, if we land gently enough.”
Picard braced himself, since the crew could not rely on the ship’s usual inertial control–-And the Darwin touched, and skipped, and touched again, shooting forward but slowing.
Picard’s body wanted to continue forward in time-honored Newtonian fashion, but he had never been a man for fashion. He held himself in his saddle, knowing full well that momentum could easily be stronger than a man’s grip on a physical object; but he held–-And the ship slowed to a strong plowing motion across the water, stopped, and started to sink.
Picard knew that the vessel was not taking water, but a starship was not a submarine. It would sink until it reached equilibrium with the sea and could sink no more.
Troi hurried toward the Horta officer who had fallen to the floor, but that Horta was moving now, apparently unharmed. Captain Dalen was already getting reports from sick bay about injuries aboard ship.
“Captain Picard,” Data said from the Enterprise, as if Darwin’s safe landing had never been in doubt.
“Picard here.”
“The Sphere’s attempts to avoid the neutron star continue badly. The central sun is failing to be pulled along by the grapplers, and is drifting toward your position, relatively speaking. If no corrections are made, and if the Sphere continues with its fits and starts of acceleration, the sun will strike the Great Scott Sea in approximately six days …”
“Where, exactly, will the sun set?” Picard asked.
“Right where you are standing,” came the reply.
“And that will be bad, right?” the Horta captain sang.
“. .. Yes,” Data said hesitantly, as if confused by the black humor of the situation. “If you had managed to establish a link with one of the control stations, we might have made it possible to keep the sun out of the water.”
Riker said, “I’m sending in a shuttle with Crusher, Worf, and Guinan, to give you a hand. I know you may not need it, but I want to feel better about that lock opening reliably, so here’s a chance to test it again. Guinan, by the way, insisted on going, and I have a feeling she might be of use there.”
“We’re caring for our injured, Commander Riker,” Captain Dalen replied. “Mostly mild concussions and the odd exoskeletal chip, but nothing life-threatening.”
“What about your ship?”
“We’re afloat now, half down in the water. I think we can make repairs and be able to lift off.”
“How soon?” Riker asked.
“As soon as our programs can be rebuilt.”
“You may have to leave in your shuttles,” Riker said, “if the ship …”
“Shuttles and ship,” Captain Dalen said, “are in the same state of jumbled control programs. They will be repaired at the same time. Besides, abandoning the Darwin is not a good idea.”
“Compared to what?” Troi muttered under her breath as she returned to her station near Dalen.
“Captain Picard,” Riker said, “if the Darwin or your shuttles can’t lift, we’ll have to shuttle you out.”
Picard hesitated. “A day will tell what we can repair,” he said, knowing full well that in the last possible resort the Enterprise herself would have to enter the Sphere to effect rescues. It could be done, he supposed, with shuttles standing outside to trigger the lock if necessary. He had to think ahead, to all possible outcomes, whatever the actual outcome. And Captain Dalen, he was certain, was thinking in the same way. The Horta had seen more than a few strange outcomes in her long life.
Voices From the Past
THE SHUTTLECRAFT NOSED DOWN toward a chain of little white clouds and islands sprinkled over a sea that was flat and blue-green and impossibly vast. Beverly Crusher gazed at the small viewscreen near her as the specks slowly swelled in size. There was the hiss of increasingly dense air against the hull, and a perceptible shudder in the floor panels. The prow nosed down another five degrees and Beverly, tensing herself, glanced to her right,