Pantheon - Michael Jan Friedman [65]
“It won’t,” said Geordi. “But it might slow us down—buy some time.”
The captain nodded. “And time is a factor here, isn’t it?” He considered the strategy from all angles. “What about the stress it would place on the ship? Will the hull stand up under such circumstances?”
“There’s no way of knowing for sure,” said Simenon. “But my guess is that the stress will be within manageable limits.”
“Plus, we can administer reverse thrust gradually,” Wesley advised. “That way, if we see there’s going to be a problem, we can back off.”
Picard drummed his fingers on the table. “It’s risky.”
Data leaned forward slightly. “Captain, our present position is characterized by risk as well.”
Picard looked at the android. “I suppose that is true, Commander.” He turned to Geordi again, his decision made. “Very well, Mr. La Forge. We will give it a try.”
Rising, he tugged down hard on his tunic and led the way out of the observation lounge. As he took his seat in the command center, he saw Data proceed to ops and Wesley to conn, replacing the personnel who had been posted there. At the same time, Geordi took up his position at the engineering station.
Since the seats on either side of the captain’s were unoccupied, Simenon took one of them—where Riker usually sat. “You don’t mind, do you?” he asked Picard. “After all, I have to sit somewhere.”
The captain almost smiled. “I thought you hated to be on the bridge.”
“It wasn’t such a novelty back then,” explained the Gnalish, already intent on the viewscreen.
“Really,” said Picard. It felt good to have Simenon beside him again—just like old times. Nor could the suspicion that had fallen on the Gnalish quite dampen the captain’s confidence in him.
Putting such thoughts aside for the moment, Picard raised his head and spoke. “This is the captain speaking. Secure all decks. In a few seconds we will be attempting a maneuver which may toss us about a bit—but not to worry. The ship is well under control.”
It sounded good. Now they would see how much truth there was to it.
Picard nodded to Wesley, who had turned around in his chair to wait for the captain’s signal. Facing forward, the ensign made the necessary preparations.
“Warp factor one,” said the captain. “Reverse thrust.”
“Warp factor one,” Wesley confirmed. “Reverse thrust.”
“Engage,” said Picard.
A shudder went through the ship, but only for a second. Then it stopped.
“No problems with hull integrity or ship’s systems,” reported Geordi. “But we haven’t slowed down one iota.”
The captain frowned. “Warp factor two, Mr. Crusher. Engage.”
Wesley executed the order. Again, there was a brief vibration.
“Still nothing,” Geordi said. “No cause for alarm, no change in speed.”
Picard noticed that Simenon was staring at him. He turned to face his former chief engineer, and the Gnalish looked down at his hand on the armrest. Four of his scaly gray fingers were extended; his thumb was folded back. When he looked up again at the captain, his meaning was clear.
“Warp Factor Four,” commanded Picard.
“Warp Factor Four,” said Wesley, complying.
This time the ship’s trembling was more pronounced, and it lasted longer. But when it was over, the streaks of starlight on the viewscreen were longer and a little less frantic.
“Progress,” announced Geordi triumphantly. “We’re down to warp nine point nine one.”
“Which means we’ve cut our speed by a third,” said Simenon. He looked at the captain. “Sorry. It’s the professor in me.”
“Quite all right,” said Picard. If they had been alone, he would have clapped the Gnalish on the back—as he’d had occasion to do so many times on the Stargazer. “How is the ship holding up?” he asked.
“Considerable stress on hull integrity,” Geordi told him. “But we can handle it.”
“Should we try Warp Factor Five?” asked Wesley.
The captain glanced at Simenon’s hand. There were still only four fingers extended.
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” called La Forge. “I think we’re on the edge now. And we’ve slowed down considerably—why take the risk?”
“Then we will remain at Warp Four,