Relics - Michael Jan Friedman [19]
Sniffing the air, Riker frowned. “Pretty stale,” he observed.
Geordi consulted his tricorder. “Life support is barely operating.”
Turning to Worf, the first officer said “See if you can increase the oxygen level, Lieutenant.”
Nodding, Worf moved over to one of the consoles. Meanwhile, Geordi’s tricorder led him to the transporter controls. Not that he expected to find anything of interest there, but he had to cover all the bases.
A moment later, he was glad he had. “Commander,” said the chief engineer, his heart beating a little faster at his discovery.
Riker moved over to see what he’d found. “What is it, Geordi?”
“The transporter is still on-line,” said La Forge. “It’s being fed power from the auxiliary systems.”
Riker bent over the transporter controls to do some checking of his own. “How about that,” he muttered. “The rematerialization subroutine has been disabled.”
“And that’s not all,” Geordi added. “The auxiliary phase inducers have been connected to the emitter array. The override is completely gone. And the pattern buffer’s been locked into a continuous diagnostic cycle.”
Riker shook his head. “This doesn’t make any sense. Locking the unit in a diagnostic mode just sends inert matter flowing through the pattern buffer. Why would anyone want to-?”
Suddenly, Geordi saw something on the console-something he hadn’t noticed before. “Damn,” he breathed. “Someone’s pattern is still in the buffer!”
If his heartbeat had accelerated before, it was pounding now.
Riker scrutinized the reading. “You’re right,” he concluded. “It’s completely intact.” The first officer looked up at him, amazed. “Less than point zero zero three signal degradation. How is that possible?”
“I don’t know,” said Geordi, his mind racing. “I’ve never seen a transporter system jury-rigged like this. He turned to the monitor again, aware that Riker was doing the same.
“Could someone… survive in a transporter buffer for seventy-five years?” asked the first officer.
Geordi bit his lip. Was it possible? It had never been attempted … not to his knowledge, anyway. But…
“I know a way to find out,” he said.
Riker looked at him. “You mean get him out? Or try to?” His brow knit. “Assuming, of course, that there’s someone in there in the first place.”
Geordi nodded. “Yup. That’s just what I mean.”
Riker thought for a second. “All right,” he said. “Give it a shot.”
Of course, it wouldn’t be easy. It was one thing to run a twenty-fourth century transporter console, with all its automatic settings and its sophisticated backup systems-and quite another to try to salvage an ancient signal from a makeshift loop using yesterday’s technology.
For instance, he didn’t dare disconnect the phase inducers from the emitter array. Even though he could probably draw more power at this point from the auxiliary battery, the switch-over would leave the pattern buffer without juice for a split second-and that might be time enough for the signal to degenerate.
No, he would let the present connection stand-and just bypass the melded circuits that had turned the diagnostic function into a continuous cycle. Then it would just be a matter of re-enabling the rematerialization subroutine and … if he was lucky… presto… one very weary transporter-traveler.
Ever so carefully, Geordi carried out his plan. The first part went as smooth as silk. The second, not so smooth.
“What’s the matter?” asked Riker, seeing the look on the engineer’s face.
Geordi shook his head. “The subroutine that governs rematerialization. It doesn’t seem to want to come back.”
The first officer grunted. “Don’t give it a choice.”
“I won’t,” Geordi agreed. This time, he took a different tack-and broke out into a grin.
“You got it?” Riker guessed.
“I got it.”
Only one thing left to do now, Geordi mused. Activating a final control, he looked to the tiny transporter platform.
In the next instant, he saw the beginnings of an old-fashioned transporter effect-both less stable and less spectacular than the one with which