Enigma - Michael Jan Friedman [28]
“Well,” Wu said with obvious reluctance, “no.”
Picard nodded. “Wherein lies the problem.”
“Look at the bright side,” said Wu. “In another couple of days, we’ll be finished here.”
That was indeed the bright side. But by then, McAteer would have some other busywork lined up for them. And beyond that, Picard had a hearing to look forward to.
“A brave attempt,” he told Wu.
“But you’re not cheered,” she noted.
“Not significantly, no.”
“Sir?” said Paxton from his place at the com station.
Picard turned to him, hoping that Paxton had something more interesting to offer than Delta Campara. “Yes, Lieutenant?”
“It’s Admiral Mehdi calling from Command, sir. He’s asking to speak with you—in private.”
Mehdi? the captain wondered. He hadn’t heard from the admiral in months. “I will take it in my ready room,” he said. Then he got up from his seat and made his way into his sanctum.
In a matter of moments, Mehdi’s narrow, pinched face was staring at him from his computer screen. Even on his good days, the admiral wasn’t a particularly congenial man—but at the moment, he looked positively grim.
“Jean-Luc,” said the admiral.
The captain inclined his head. “Sir.”
“We’ve got a problem,” said Mehdi, as succinct as ever. “In the last few hours, two of our starships—the Cochise and the Gibraltar—have been attacked by unidentified assailants.”
Picard understood now why the admiral had looked so solemn. “Their status?” he asked.
Mehdi shook his head. “We don’t know. They both got off distress calls, but we haven’t heard from them since.”
It wouldn’t have been good news no matter which ships were involved. But the Cochise was commanded by Denton Greenbriar, one of the canniest captains in the fleet—and Picard’s friend since their involvement in the White Wolf incident.
Mehdi scowled. “There’s more. The Antares hasn’t responded to our hails for more than a day now. It’s our guess that she’s been attacked as well.”
The captain’s throat was suddenly very dry. “Admiral, I dispatched a shuttle to meet the Antares, with Admiral McAteer aboard. And six of my crew.”
Only Mehdi’s eyes reflected his sympathy. “All the more reason to find out what happened to her—and quickly.”
“You want the Stargazer to investigate her disappearance?”
“Exactly. I’m transmitting a set of coordinates—the last known position of the Antares.”
Indeed, Picard saw the coordinates appear in white characters in the lower right-hand corner of the screen, superimposed on the image of the admiral.
“You’re to get there as soon as you can,” Mehdi continued, “and let us know what you find out. We need to get a handle on who’s carrying out these attacks and why, before they decide to take another shot at us.”
“And my shuttle?”
“Is a secondary concern right now. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course,” said Picard, however reluctantly. The Antares had to come first.
“Further instructions will be forthcoming,” said the admiral. “Good luck, Jean-Luc. Mehdi—”
“Wait,” said Picard, as a possibility occurred to him.
Mehdi stared at him. “Yes?”
The captain’s mind raced. Ulelo. He had transmitted the Stargazer’s specs—to no one in particular, if Greyhorse was right about the com officer’s state of mind.
But what if Ulelo’s transmissions had been purposeful after all? What if someone had received them and studied the technologies employed by the Stargazer? Someone who might have been daunted by Federation firepower for some time—and now had the knowledge to wade through a starship’s defenses as if they weren’t there?
The Cochise, the Gibraltar, the Antares…they were all Constellation-class, like the Stargazer. Their specs would all be the same. Picard felt the blood rush to his face as the the pieces began falling into place….
“Admiral,” he said, “I may be able to shed some light on what happened to our ships.” And he went on to tell Mehdi about Ulelo, his transmissions, and the conclusion reached by Picard and his staff. “However, considering what you’ve told me about the Cochise and the other vessels…”
“You think Ulelo