Pantheon - Michael Jan Friedman [193]
Iulus nodded. “Amazing.”
“Very much so,” said Vigo. “And yet, separately, none of them can move one of these parts even an inch.”
The security officer looked at him. “So how do they do it?”
“By working together,” the weapons officer replied. “When they pool their efforts, they raise their effectiveness in leaps and bounds. At least, that’s how it was explained to me.”
“You know what?” said Iulus. “They can do it any way they want—as long as they’re finished before the Nuyyad get here.”
Vigo grunted softly. That was one way of looking at the situation.
Unfortunately, Picard had insisted that every colonist on the Stargazer have an escort. Clearly, the commander didn’t want the Magnians to do their jobs any way they wanted.
It seemed like a shift from Picard’s earlier stance, when he had been willing to place more trust in the colonists. But then, Vigo mused, even commanding officers were allowed to change their minds.
“Lieutenant?” called one of the colonists from his place at the end of the tube. “Could I see you for a moment?”
It was the first time any of the Magnians had asked for Vigo’s help. He wondered what the man wanted.
“I’ll see you later,” he told Iulus.
“Sure,” said the security officer.
Then the Pandrilite moved his bulk through the tube, wishing fervently that he could have glided through it like one of the casing components instead.
Jean-Luc Picard entered his quarters, sought out his bed and sank into it gratefully. It had been a long day.
All in all, the work had gone well—both on the Stargazer and on the planet’s surface. Simenon had reported that the warp drive was almost functional again, and the colonists were on the verge of bringing their shield generators back on-line.
And having had a chance to look at Williamson’s proposal regarding the Stargazer’s sensor and tractor systems, it appealed to him even more. If it meant having a few colonists on board during the impending battle, he could live with it.
After all, he had gotten this far taking chances. With luck, the same approach would get his ship home.
The only fly in the ointment was the incident with Jomar. However, there hadn’t been any reprise of it, nor had Picard been forced to deal with any other instances of hostility.
He closed his eyes, knowing the work on his ship would continue unabated throughout the night. By morning, the second officer hoped, there would be even better things to report.
Abruptly, as if fate were intent on being cruel to him, he heard a beeping sound. Envisioning an emergency, he swung his legs out of bed and returned to his anteroom.
“Come,” he said.
The doors to his quarters slid apart, revealing Lieutenant Vigo. The Pandrilite entered the room a little tentatively.
“What is it?” Picard asked wearily.
“I have some news for you, sir.” Vigo looked apologetic. “News you are not going to like.”
Picard ran his fingers through his hair. “Go ahead.”
“Remember the shuttle that exploded prematurely? When we were trying to liberate the colony?”
The second officer nodded. “Of course.”
“At the time,” said the Pandrilite, “it appeared to be an accident. But just a little while ago, one of the Magnian engineers came across some evidence that indicates otherwise.”
“You’re saying it was sabotage?” Picard asked.
“Judge for yourself, sir,” Vigo told him.
Crossing to the second officer’s workstation, he brought up a red and blue diagram of a secondary command junction. “This is one of the switching points from my bridge console to the remote control node. During the battle, all my signals to the shuttles passed through it.”
“All right,” said Picard.
“Take a close look,” Vigo advised. “What do you see?”
The second officer did as the Pandrilite suggested. After a moment, he realized what Vigo was talking about. The junction had been modified—purposely, it appeared.
A second data line had been spliced in, allowing the command junction to simultaneously accommodate