Myriad Universes 02_ Echoes and Refractions - Keith R. A. DeCandido [180]
Lal nodded. “Provided he is equipped with the standard subspace transceiver.”
“He is,” Crusher called, not looking up from the controls of the gateway network, having to hold his hands together at the small of his back to prevent himself from trying them out. “I can provide his transceiver code, if you like.”
“You have it memorized?” Sito said, disbelieving.
“Come on, Jaxa,” La Forge said with a smile, coming to stand beside Crusher, just as intrigued as he about the gateways. “How long have you known Wesley, and you’re surprised he can remember a simple numerical string?”
“Mister Crusher, if you would,” Picard said, his tone tinged in amusement.
Barely glancing up, Crusher reeled off a long string of numbers. He found it no more difficult to recall than he did the room and deck number of his own quarters.
“Thank you,” Lal replied, then fell silent for a moment. “Captain, I have established contact with Isaac. Would you like me to relay a message to him, and hear his response?”
“Yes,” Picard said, sounding like a pleased grandparent, “I would like that very much, thank you. A status report, if you please.”
A moment later, Lal opened her mouth again, but this time the voice that issued forth was not her own. “Captain,” said the familiar voice of Isaac, “I am afraid matters are continuing to complicate.”
After Isaac had changed into the nondescript civilian clothing produced by the replicator, Lore had hurried back to the main square where Data awaited the Romulans, with Isaac following close behind. Moving as quickly as they were able throughout, blindingly fast by human standards, it had taken only a matter of moments to complete the errand.
They had found Data standing where they’d left him, with the Romulan “inspection team” approaching from the far end of the concourse.
“It’s not too late to go for the quantum warhead option, brother,” Lore said, sidling up to Data.
“We exercise the will of the population, Lore,” Data said, keeping his attention on the Romulans. “Until the consensus changes, neither should our course of action.”
Isaac came to stand on Data’s opposite side. The Romulans were only a few meters away, by this point. At their vanguard was Subcommander Taris herself, and marching behind her were some dozens of individuals. On closer examination, though, only a bare handful of these were organic Romulans. The rest were shock troops, crude Romulan-style androids. Their features were blunt, with a rough-hewn look, like unfinished sculptures, and this outward appearance only served to mirror their inner qualities. Unlike the Soong-types found in the Federation, who were fully able to exercise their free will, the Romulan androids were more like robotic slaves. It was believed by Federation experts that there was a type of sentience buried deep within the shock trooper’s mind, but it was given no expression, their artificial brains shackled by the Romulans’ oppressive programming imperatives.
Glancing over at the two “brothers” beside him, Isaac could see that they found the state in which the shock troops existed as distasteful as he did.
“These wretches are as bad off as that damned wardrone,” Lore said in a harsh whisper. He glared daggers at the approaching subcommander. “Organic slavers.”
Data gave a slight nod, but motioned for patience. “I share your objections, brother. But this is not the time to voice them.”
Any further conversation was forestalled as the Romulans drew nearer.
“Welcome to Turing, Subcommander Taris,” Data said cordially, though not without a wary glance at the shock troops following behind her.
“I thought this was to be an 'inspection,’” Lore said, bitterly, “not an occupation force.”
“I was given to understand that he spoke for this populace,” Taris said, indicating Data, who nodded. “Then why are you speaking?”
Lore bristled, and for a moment Isaac thought he might lash out and strike the subcommander. Worse, even though