Relics - Michael Jan Friedman [18]
Riker’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying there might be people living in there?” he asked the captain.
The answer was supplied by Data. “Possibly a great number of people, Commander. The interior surface area of a sphere this size would be equivalent to that of more than two hundred fifty million class-M planets.”
Hard to believe, Riker told himself. He tried to picture a civilization thriving on the inside skin of the sphere. Hell, the horizon would curve up instead of down. And …
His mind recoiled at the image. He’d seen his share of strange phenomena as first officer of the Enterprise, but none of them had prepared him for something like this.
Worf spoke up from his position behind the Tactical console. “Sir … I have located the distress signal. It is coming from a point on the northern hemisphere.”
Absorbing the information, Picard turned to the ensign at the conn. “Ensign Rager, take us into synchronous orbit above that point.”
“Aye, sir,” said Rager, her fingers fairly flying over her controls.
They still had to answer the seventy-five-year-old distress call, Riker mused. But their interest in the Jenolen had already paled beside their interest in the sphere. Gradually, they pulled closer to it. And closer still.
Before long, the monstrous object looked like a giant wall in space, stretching in every direction as far as the eye could see. Where before, the sphere had appeared perfectly smooth, it was now possible to discern intricate patterns on the surface-patterns that suggested construction supports. However, they were still too far away to make out anything distinct.
All eyes were riveted to the viewscreen. What they saw there was just too immense, too unique to miss a single detail.
At last, they achieved the synchronous orbit that Picard had desired. “We are holding position at thirty thousand kilometers above the surface,” announced Sousa.
“The distress signal is coming from a Federation ship that has impacted on the surface of the sphere,” said Data. After a moment, he confirmed what they had already suspected. “It is the transport ship Jenolen, Captain.”
“Life signs?” asked Riker.
“Our sensors show none,” the android responded. “However, there are several small power emanations … and life support is still functioning at minimum levels.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Riker noticed Picard looking at him. He looked back and nodded.
“Bridge to engineering,” announced the first officer. “Geordi, meet me in Transporter Room Three.” Then, turning to the Klingon security chief, he said “Mr. Worf, you’re with me.”
As another crew member took over at Tactical, Worf followed Riker into the turbolift. The doors had barely closed when the Klingon grunted.
“I know,” said Riker. “You’d rather be studying the insides of that sphere than the insides of a derelict transport vessel.” He looked up at the lift’s luminous ceiling and scowled. “I don’t blame you. So would I.”
As Geordi materialized on the Jenolen, with Riker on one side of him and Worf on the other, he scanned their surroundings. Before joining his colleagues in the transporter room, he’d taken a moment to study the layout of the vessel with Chief O’Brien-mostly to make sure they didn’t beam themselves into a bulkhead-so he wasn’t surprised at the size or configuration of the Ops center.
However, neither the first officer nor the security chief were quite so well prepared. “Cramped,” commented Worf.
Riker nodded. “And it seems they did everything in here but cook dinner.”
“Maybe that too,” Geordi remarked.
Each of them took out his tricorder. “Come on,” said the first officer. “Let’s have a gander at the place.”
The lights were dim and there didn’t seem to be any equipment working at present, but that didn’t present a problem to Geordi-who, thanks to his VISOR, could “see” almost as easily in the dark as in the light. Looking around, he made some mental notes.
One or two of the consoles were damaged or burnt out, there were piles of ash on the floor, and in several spots the bulkhead was caved in. “This ship really went through