Pantheon - Michael Jan Friedman [156]
For a moment, every technician in the room was silent. Picard could see them pondering the Kelvan’s idea, turning it over in their minds. Then Simenon broke the silence.
“Where did you come up with this?” he asked.
“Actually,” Jomar told him, “it is the approach we have taken in Kelvan vessels for the last seventy years.”
Vigo, a Pandrilite officer in the weapons section, leaned forward in his chair. “I don’t understand,” he confessed. “How can you achieve higher energy levels in the crystals without—”
Werber cut Vigo off with a preemptive wave of his hand. “Without compromising the integrity of the conduit network?” he asked, finishing the Pandrilite’s question himself.
As Picard watched, Vigo slumped back in his chair again and fell silent. However, he didn’t look at all happy about it.
Meanwhile, the Kelvan answered Werber’s question. “Starfleet Command has made available to me considerable data concerning the conduit network and its rated tolerances. As far as I can tell, it is somewhat less durable than the energy channels in my people’s ships—but nonetheless strong enough to withstand even a substantial increase in subatomic activity.”
Simenon shook his lizardlike head from side to side. “Not from where I stand, it’s not.”
“No question about it,” Werber added. “That plasma will never reach the prefire chamber. It’ll blow up in the conduits first.”
“And send us all to kingdom come,” Leach agreed.
For once, Picard found himself on the first officer’s side. He turned to Ruhalter. “It would be imprudent to make the kind of changes that are being discussed without considerable study. I advise against it.”
“As do I,” Leach chimed in, obviously reluctant to let Picard receive the credit for anything.
Ruhalter addressed the Kelvan. “To be honest, Jomar, I’m not thrilled with the idea either. It seems too damned dangerous. But your strategy for beefing up the shields…that I like.” He glanced at Simenon, then Werber. “I want you to get started on that as soon as possible.”
“Aye, sir,” said the weapons chief.
“As you wish,” the engineer added.
If the Kelvan resented the rejection of his phaser idea, he didn’t show it. His expression was as neutral as ever.
“What else?” asked the captain.
“Nothing else,” Jomar told him. “I have discussed all the possibilities I meant to discusss.”
Ruhalter nodded. “All right, then. Thank you all for attending. Now let’s get to work.”
And with that, the meeting ended.
As Pug Joseph approached the Stargazer’s brig, he was forced to admit something to himself.
He had guarded his share of prisoners in the course of his brief career. Every security officer had. But he had never actually looked forward to guarding one until now.
Garner, the officer on duty in the brig, acknowledged Joseph with a businesslike nod. “All quiet,” she reported.
“Good,” he replied.
Not that he had expected Garner to say anything else. After all, it wasn’t exactly a Nausicaan slave-runner they were holding. It was just a woman, and a very cooperative woman at that.
He looked past the brig’s translucent, yellow barrier and saw Santana sitting upright on the edge of her sleeping pallet, her eyes closed, her hands held out in front of her as if in supplication. She had told Joseph about the technique during his last shift—a form of meditation, it was used widely in her colony as a way of achieving calm…
And perspective. She certainly needed that right now.
“Go ahead,” he told Garner. “I can take it from here.”
His colleague smiled as she passed him on her way out. “I’ll see you later,” she said.
“Later,” he echoed.
But his mind was already focused on Santana, who hadn’t fluttered an eyelash since he arrived. He considered saying something to let her know he was there, but he didn’t want to disturb her.
“Mr. Joseph,” she said abruptly. “Nice of you to drop by.”
The security officer chuckled. “As if I had a choice.”
Santana opened her eyes, disappointment etched