Enigma - Michael Jan Friedman [58]
Chapter Fourteen
THE CONTAINER’S TRANSIT from the supply drone to what was presumably a warship was quick and smooth. Unless Ben Zoma missed his guess, it was made possible by some kind of tractor beam, which lifted them off the drone’s deck and put them down again a few minutes later.
According to Chen’s tricorder, the temperature in the container dropped precipitously for those few minutes, but it was climbing again just as steeply now. That meant the hold they occupied was heated, just like the drone.
Chen whispered that there was air there too—no great surprise. But it allowed them to divest themselves of their suits, which restricted movement, and they would need all the movement they could get.
Then came the big question. “Any guards out there?” asked Ben Zoma.
“We’re alone,” said Chen, his face caught in the glow of his tricorder readout.
That was the best news of all.
Their next step was to locate a data node—a task Ramirez had been assigned while they were still on the drone. Fortunately, they had accessed one on the supply ship and knew what to look for.
At the same time, Garner set about finding something resembling a shuttlebay. Ben Zoma’s plan was to split the team into two groups. One would hunt down the node, download the data, and transmit it across the ship tricorder-to-tricorder. The other group would secure a shuttle—if the warship even had one—receive the data, and retransmit it using the craft’s com system. They would hold the shuttle until the other group rejoined them.
Of course, the first officer knew that escape was a long shot. Their main priority was just to get the data off to Starfleet.
Unfortunately, Ramirez had only been searching for a few seconds before Ben Zoma’s plan hit a snag. He could tell by the security officer’s expression.
“What’s wrong?” he said.
Ramirez frowned. “Something in the bulkheads is blocking the signal. I think I can find a node, but we’re not going to be able to transmit intraship.”
“We’ve got a shuttlebay,” Garner announced, “or something like it. Three decks down.” She swore under her breath. “I just can’t tell if it’s guarded or not, thanks to that problem with the bulkheads.”
“All right,” said Ramirez, “I found a node. One deck up.”
“We can use the lift system,” Paris chimed in. His assignment had been to figure out how the invaders got around their vessel, since the drone was all on one level and didn’t need such a thing. “It’s a little like ours,” he said, “but it only moves up and down. No horizontal routes.”
“What’s the best lift for us to take?” Ben Zoma asked.
Paris studied his tricorder screen. “After we leave this room, it’s down the corridor to the right. About fifty meters.”
Ben Zoma absorbed the information. “All right. We’ll do this the hard way.” He took in the rest of the team at a glance. “We’ll download the data and carry it to the shuttlebay. And we’ll all go together, to minimize the chances of our being discovered.”
No one objected—not even McAteer. All he said was, “What are we waiting for? Let’s spring the locks.”
For once, Ben Zoma agreed with him. Turning to Horombo, whom he knew was beside him, he said, “No time like the present.”
“Aye, sir,” said Horombo.
Activating his palmlight, he gave them something to see by. Then the other security officers used their tricorders to open the locks one at a time.
That done, they slid the lid partway off the container. It gave them access to ambient light, allowing Horombo to douse his palm device.
With help from Paris, Ben Zoma peeked over the edge of the container wall. He saw the same serpentine motifs they had encountered in the supply drone, but they covered a much smaller space—perhaps five times the size of the Livingston.
At the moment, theirs was the only container in the enclosure. That supported a theory Paris had put forth that the aliens destroyed each container when they were done with it. After all, there weren’t any empties on the drone, and the warships didn’t have a lot of room for them.
Ben Zoma pulled himself over the top of the wall and lowered himself