Intellivore - Diane Duane [44]
“Recommendations are as follows,” the last page began. “Positive identification.” Well, that would come soon enough, Picard hoped, when Data sent another probe out.
“Once identification is complete, closer examination and further evaluation.”
“Oh, wonderful,” Picard said under his breath. “Who gets to bell the cat?” And almost instantly, in his mind, he could hear Captain Maisel offering to do it—insisting on it, in fact. He rubbed his eyes and smiled bitterly, wondering which would sap his energy faster, a face-off with the creature or a face-off with Ileen. Never a dull moment. He shifted his eyes back to the padd.
“Then contact, if possible. If so, translation, establishment of common context, and discussion.”
Supposing it did communicate with them; that would open a whole new kettle of worms, as he had heard Riker say once. This part of space had been relatively unpopulated for a long time. The intellivore might see all these colonists as an invasion force, something to be defended against. Possibly it was even a weapon itself, another doomsday machine, raised, built, or made for this purpose. It couldn’t be blamed for such.
Or alternately, it might not be able to communicate, or willing to. Further, it might attack them. They would resist.
And the question is … with what?
After that, the report suggested merely “implementation.” Acting on whatever solution had been worked out. Assuming that one could be.
Chapter Six
SEVERAL HOURS LATER, anyone with any excuse to be on the bridge was there. Data sat at his station, running last-minute checks on the probe. To Picard’s eye, he looked almost nervous. He seemed to be taking unusual care over the business of checking and rechecking the status of the probe’s screening.
“I trust the probe will launch on time, Mr. Data,” Picard said in a more impatient tone than he had intended.
“Forty-five seconds now, Captain.”
They seemed to stretch. Data kept working at his panel. Troi, sitting at Picard’s left hand, raised her eyebrows, and Picard said quietly to her, “I don’t suppose you’ve sensed anything significant during these close brushes with the intellivore—assuming that’s what it is?”
Troi shook her head as she replied, “It’s very difficult to get any kind of reading on another mind moving at this speed. But I’m hoping I’ll sense something as we start to catch up.”
Picard nodded. “The instant you notice anything—”
“Believe me, Captain, you’ll be the second to know.”
“Probe launched,” Data said.
On the screen, they watched the line of light arc away from the Enterprise into the darkness, and forward into the starfield sliding by.
“How long to optimum approach?” Picard asked.
“At present speed, fifty-seven minutes, Captain.”
“Very well.”
They waited. Bridge crew went about their business; others came in and out, but never stayed out for long. At about forty-nine minutes, Picard said to Worf, “Are Oraidhe and Marignano on the line?”
“With us, Captain, and watching.”
“Any comments, Captain Clif? Captain Maisel?”
“Just waiting for the data,” Maisel said.
Clif said, “Yes. Somehow I don’t feel compelled to go off and catch up on my reading just now …”
“Standing by,” Picard said.
They waited. “Three minutes,” said Data.
“Probe status?” Riker said.
“Communications are nominal. I will be shutting down our direct comm link to the probe in the next fifty seconds.”
“Shutting it down now?” Riker said, glancing at the captain.
“I do not wish to take the chance of an active trace directly back to our comm systems, and possibly to our computer.”
Picard nodded. “At your discretion, Mr. Data.”
After what seemed a very short time, Data said, “I have closed down comms. Contact with the object in approximately one minute.”
Everyone looked at the dark screen, as if it could be made to give up its secrets by staring. Picard resisted the urge to go into his ready room and pace.
“The probe should be in sensor contact with the vessel now,” Data said. “Preprogramming will hold its sensor window open for another four