Myriad Universes 02_ Echoes and Refractions - Keith R. A. DeCandido [156]
“I always thought that was the reason for their disappearance,” Crusher said. “I know my mother does, too.”
It had been some years since Beverly Crusher had left the Enterprise for a posting in Starfleet Medical, but at times like this Picard missed her counsel. Beverly always seemed to think with her heart as much as with her head, and as someone who had a propensity for being altogether too cerebral, it was a quality Picard admired.
“Be that as it may,” Picard said, “the fact remains that, from that moment, a little more than ten years ago, no one has heard from Data or any of the other missing androids. Until today.”
“So are you going to do it?” La Forge asked, his eyebrow arched in a quizzical expression. Once that look might have been hidden by his clunky VISOR, but since La Forge had gotten his new ocular implants, the first officer had seemed far more expressive. If not for the fact that La Forge’s eyes appeared to be pools of mercury, silvery and reflective, his implants might not even be noticeable. “And what does he mean about 'averting a war’?”
Picard forced himself to watch the transmission a second time in sickbay before allowing himself to believe it: a message from the void, a voice and a face from the past. Data, into whose hands Picard had placed the lives of everyone on board the Enterprise on several occasions, had disappeared without warning, without apology, without a trace, and was now inviting Picard to break the already tenuous treaty with the Romulans. It was not so much an invitation; Data was pleading, urging Picard to venture deep into the Neutral Zone to the coordinates he provided, for reasons Data could not, or would not, reveal. If Picard did not come, war would be the inevitable consequence. But war between whom? And why?
“Starfleet Command won’t be happy about a treaty violation,” Ro said, her expression grim.
“Starfleet Command isn’t happy about it,” Picard answered with a slight smile, “but they want us to proceed, regardless.”
The captain was tempted to pause, to savor the spectrum of confused expressions directed his way, but there simply wasn’t time.
“I’ve already been in subspace contact with Earth and received Starfleet Command’s authorization to proceed.” The others exchanged looks, some knowing, others less so. “I delayed giving the order until I was confident that I knew what we were getting into. I don’t have to tell you the state of our relations with the Klingon-Romulan Alliance. I can’t help but think that the Neutral Zone is the proverbial powder keg, and I have no intention of providing the spark. But if this”he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the screen“is our erstwhile shipmate Data, I for one would very much like to meet with him. I have a few questions I’d like answered, and I’m sure many of you do, too.”
Picard pushed back from the table and stood. Then, tugging down the front of his jacket in his characteristic mannerism, he straightened. “Mister Lavelle, plot a course to the coordinates provided in the transmission.”
“Aye, sir,” Lavelle answered, rising to his feet.
“Lieutenant Sito,” Picard continued, “send a coded response to the transmission, as instructed, informing Data-or whomever it is-that we are on our way. The rest of you are dismissed.”
2
As soon as Wesley Crusher stepped off the turbolift on deck 36, he knew that something was wrong, and by the time he reached the heart of main engineering, he was sure he knew what it was.
“Ensign,” he called to one of the members of the duty shift. “Get a team to check on the reactant injectors. Sounds like the matter-antimatter mix is a little off.”
The young ensign glanced at the nearest control panel. “Sir? The mix reads as being within tolerances.”
Crusher smiled patiently and nodded. The ensign was relatively new to the crew, and