Relics - Michael Jan Friedman [17]
He’d barely finished his thought when the Enterprise was rocked-as if a giant hand had grasped it and was shaking it like a tambourine. Riker grasped at the back of Rager’s chair to keep from being catapulted across the deck.
Then, as suddenly as it had started, the shaking stopped. But that was no guarantee that they wouldn’t be treated to a repeat performance.
“Yellow alert,” cried Riker, his voice reverberating throughout the enclosed space and spreading to the rest of the ship via the intercom system.
At the same time, he headed back to his place in the command center. Picard and Data were less than a step behind him, moving toward their own customary positions on the bridge.
“Report,” intoned Picard, as he took his seat a little uncertainly.
“We have entered a massive gravitational field,” replied Worf.
Picard turned to look at him. He wasn’t alone. After all, there was nothing on the screen close enough to possess a gravitational field-much less one as powerful as the one they’d run into.
“Mr. Data?” the captain said, hoping for more information.
The android was bent over the Ops station, where he’d replaced the crewman who had been sitting there before. “There are no stars or other stellar bodies listed at these coordinates on our navigational charts.” He paused. “However, sensor readings indicate the presence of an extremely strong gravitational source in this vicinity.” Another pause. “Directly ahead.”
It didn’t make sense, Riker told himself. Unless … the object creating the field was cloaked somehow.
Picard must have had the same idea. “Mr. Worf,” he said, “can you localize the source of the gravity field?”
For a moment, the Klingon worked at his console. Then he looked up. “Yes, sir.”
Good, thought the first officer. Now we’re getting somewhere.
“On screen,” said the captain.
The starfield on the viewscreen changed, reflecting another view. And if one looked closely, there was a small, dark ball at its center.
“Magnify,” commanded Picard.
The image jumped up several orders of magnitude, until the dark ball could be seen more easily. After the final jump, it appeared as round and smooth as a billiard ball-but because it was so dark, it was hard to discern anything else about it.
It mystified Riker. He’d never seen anything like it.
“Sensors?” he said, finally breaking the spell. They needed information-and they needed it as quickly as possible. Who knew what other surprises awaited them in this gravitational field?
“I am having difficulty scanning the object,” said Data. “However, it would appear to be at least two hundred million kilometers in diameter.”
Riker looked to Picard. The captain’s surprise mirrored his own.
“That’s almost the size of Earth’s orbit around the sun,” the first officer blurted.
“Indeed,” said Picard. “Why didn’t we detect it before now?”
Data swiveled in his chair to face him. “The object’s enormous mass is causing a great deal of gravimetric subspace interference. That interference might have prevented our sensors from detecting the object before we dropped out of warp.”
There was a beat as they all looked up at this strange object on the screen. Suddenly, a look of wonder came across Picard’s face. He might have found something hitherto only imagined.
“Mr. Data,” said Picard, “could this be a… a Dyson Sphere?”
Data seemed to ponder the information. “There is no comparative data, Captain. However, this object does fit the general parameters of Dyson’s theory.”
Riker looked from one of them to the other. “A Dyson Sphere?” he echoed.
Picard nodded. “It’s a very old theory, Number One. I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of it.” Turning again to the viewscreen, he regarded the dark ball. “A twentieth-century physicist, Freeman Dyson, postulated that an enormous hollow sphere could be constructed around a star. This would have the advantage of harnessing all the radiant energy of the star, not just a tiny fraction of it. A population living on the interior surface would therefore have a virtually inexhaustible