Relics - Michael Jan Friedman [33]
Standing at the aft science station where he’d spent the last several hours, Data pointed to his monitor, which displayed a cross section of the Dyson Sphere. The section revealed a captive star and a thin atmosphere adhering to the inside of the sphere. Computer information on the object’s vital statistics was visible in list form off to the side.
“You see, sir?” asked the android. “Sensor readings indicate the presence of a G-type star at the center of the Dyson Sphere. There also appears to be a class-M atmosphere clinging to the interior surface.”
Picard, who had been hovering about his second officer periodically, nodded his head. “Then there is a possibility,” he concluded, his voice charged with excitement.
“It would appear that way,” Data responded.
The captain’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the statistics on the monitor. “Is there any indication that the sphere is inhabited? Any positive evidence that life still exists in there?”
“Not as yet, sir,” the android told him. “Our preliminary data indicates that the sphere is still capable of supporting life, but we have been unable to find definite signs of current habitation.”
Picard grunted thoughtfully. Data had seldom seen him so intrigued by a scientific discovery. He said so.
“Intrigued?” the human echoed. “I’ll say I’m intrigued. That’s why I went out into space in the first place, Data. That’s why I spent twenty years and more on the Stargazer, and why I agreed to serve as captain of the Enterprise. For the possibility of glimpsing a form of life so different that I could not otherwise have imagined it.”
Picard turned to the main viewscreen, where the sphere was displayed in all its gargantuan glory. The android followed His gaze.
“Whoever built that might qualify as such a life-form, Data. And if there is an opportunity to speak with him, her or it… to understand what drove them to encapsulate a star for their own use …” He shrugged. “I will do everything in my power to seize that opportunity. To gain that understanding.” He turned back to the android and smiled. “That is, after all, my job.”
The android didn’t quite know what to say to that. His own thirst for knowledge was part of his programming. Yet, he didn’t think he could have expressed the desire in words as well as the captain had.
Picard focused on the station monitor anew. The muscles in his temples rippled with concentration. Finally, a conclusion was reached, a plan of action devised.
“Send out a series of class-four probes to survey the far side of the sphere, Mr. Data. Perhaps we’ll have more luck with them.”
“Aye, sir,” said the android. And before another second could go by, he had initiated the launch of the first probe.
Leaning forward over the situations monitor, with Captain Scott doing the same thing right beside him, Geordi wondered if a spectrographic analysis had ever taken so long in the history of Starfleet. Or maybe it wasn’t really taking as long as he thought. Maybe it only seemed that way.
Not that he had any problem with Scott’s attitude. The man couldn’t be more cheerful or more excited. But in his efforts to be helpful, he was really getting on everyone’s nerves.
Trying to focus on the monitor and not his frustration, Geordi said “Okay. The lateral sensors are on-line. Mr. Krause, adjust the frequency stabilization on the main deflector dish. It’s out of synch with the aft sensors.”
“Aye, sir,” said Krause, doing as he was told. As Geordi watched, he brought the frequency stabilization and the sensors back into synch.
“Okay,” said the chief engineer. Now-“
“Laddie,” Scott interrupted.
Reluctantly, Geordi turned to him. He had a serious glint in his eye.
“Yes, Captain Scott… er, Scotty?”
“Ye need to phase-lock the warp fields within three percent or they’ll become unstable,” said Scott.
Geordi shook his head as if to clear it. “What?”
Working the console, Scotty showed him what he meant. “Here, I’ll show