Immortal Coil - Jeffrey Lang [23]
Data and McAdams fanned out, using their tricorders.
“I am detecting two distinct sets of human DNA,” Data reported.
“Confirmed,” McAdams said, kneeling down to study the bloody graffito. “One is concentrated here. I assume this is where Commander Maddox was found?”
“That’s right,” Haftel said.
“The other DNA readings are much more scattered, as if something was vaporized,” Data said. “Professor Vaslovik must have been standing right above the conduit when it overloaded.”
“That was our conclusion as well,” Haftel said.
McAdams stood up, and rejoined the group. The captain threw her an inquiring glance Riker could read easily. Anything new? McAdams merely shook her head.
But Data continued waving his tricorder around the room in silence, a peculiar expression on his face. He was frowning, almost, Riker realized, as if he didn’t like what the tricorder was telling him. Finally, without a word, Data leaned forward and waved his tricorder over the bloodstains. After studying the results for several seconds, he straightened, snapped the device shut and strode across the room to the still-working consoles near his name. He immediately activated a comm circuit and connected to the DIT mainframe.
“Computer?” Data asked.
The computer emitted a tone of acknowledgment. “This is Lieutenant Commander Data of the U.S.S. Enterprise. Authenticate my voiceprint.”
The computer paused as it searched its files for Data’s voiceprint. “Authenticated,” it droned.
“Data, what are you doing?” Picard asked.
“Computer, implement a class-one planetary security alert,” Data went on. “Authorization, Data Epsilon One One Four. Implement.”
“Commander Data, belay that!” Haftel shouted, but he couldn’t get the words out before the computer spoke again.
“Implemented,” it said. Seconds later, klaxons began to sound all around the campus. In every settled area around the planet, Riker knew, transporters were shifting into standby mode, ships were grounding themselves or returning to their origin point, and all but the most necessary communications were being politely, but firmly, shut down. Computers were completing whatever task they had just been asked to perform and were then informing their users that they would have to receive clearance before performing additional tasks. Automated defense systems were coming online and every security officer in every city, town and research station was going to a state of full alert, and awaitng further instruction.
Data had just turned off Galor IV.
Haftel, to his credit, looked calm. There was nothing else for him to be at the moment, since there was nothing else he could do until Data released the planet. “Commander,” he asked through a tightly clenched jaw. “Why did you just do that?”
Data turned toward the admiral and said, “My apologies, sir, but there was no time to lose.” Pointing at the wreckage strewn across the lab, in tones worthy of the Great Detective himself, he said, “This was no accident, but a deliberate attempt to deceive us. Someone tried to destroy this laboratory and I believe the culprits are still on this planet.”
Chapter Eight
“Have you lost your mind?”
It was not, Troi thought, the most tactful question that the captain had ever asked, but it had the virtue of getting directly to the point. Everyone seated around the table in the observation lounge—the captain, Geordi, Rhea and Admiral Haftel—stared at Data, awaiting an answer. Will was on the bridge helping the local authorities untangle the snarls Data had created. Reg had gone off in search of an empty bunk, assuming (quite correctly) that there was nothing else for him to do right now.
“No, Captain,” Data replied neutrally. “I do not believe I have.” Troi allowed the tendrils of her empathic senses to reach out and feel what she already expected to find: confusion tinted with fear.