Relics - Michael Jan Friedman [60]
Turning to him, Sousa said in a low voice “A little spooky, isn’t it?”
The other man glanced at him, but didn’t respond. Instead, he made a show of using his tricorder to scan the stuff they were walking on.
“Come on,” Sousa whispered. “Let’s forget what we said, all right?”
But Kane wasn’t buying it. His only response was a withering glance.
Sousa sighed. Be that way, he thought. No skin off my nose.
But when he looked around at the silent towers and the abysses that yawned below them, he wished he at least had someone to talk to. It would have made the going just a little more tolerable.
Chapter Twelve
JEAN-LUC PICARD knew his senior officers like the back of his hand. When there was something worrying one of them, he was aware of it, even if he couldn’t always divine the details. And Commander Data, despite his lack of human emotions, was no exception.
So when the captain saw Data focusing more intently than usual at his Ops controls, his artificial brow creased ever so slightly with concentration, he went to the android’s side immediately. For Data, that was the equivalent of a panicked scream.
“What is it?” asked Picard.
Data looked up at him. “A problem, sir.”
Working his controls; he brought up a schematic diagram of the sphere and its captive sun. Several sections of the star were highlighted and magnified.
“Our sensors show that this star is extremely unstable,” the android explained. “It is prone to severe bursts of radiation and matter expulsions.”
The captain scowled. “That would explain why the sphere is abandoned.” He looked to the main viewscreen, with the image of the captive sun emblazoned on it. “Is the away team in danger?” he asked his second officer.
“I do not believe so,” said Data. “While solar radiation has made the sphere uninhabitable over the long term, it should not present a hazard in the short term.” He paused. “At least not to the away team.”
Picard regarded his second officer. “To us, then?”
Data nodded. “The away team is much farther away from the sun than we are. At our current distance, with our shields virtually inoperative, a solar flare would pose a significant danger to the crew.”
The captain nodded, taking the android’s advice to heart. “All the more reason to get our shields up to full power again-as soon as possible.”
Data nodded, expressionless-except for that slight crease in his forehead. “That would be wise, sir.”
Riker tapped his communicator one last time and waited. Finally, he shook his head. “Nothing,” he said. “Nada. Zip.”
Troi nodded. “Whatever is thwarting our sensor probe is also preventing communications with the ship. Hardly unexpected,” she said.
“Hardly,” he agreed. “Still, it would have been nice to find out we were wrong-at least in this regard. I don’t like the idea of being cut off from the bridge.” He loo ked around. “Especially in a jungle gym like this one.”
The counselor smiled. “We will be fine.”
“Is that just encouragement?” he asked. “Or are you getting into the predictions game now?”
She shrugged. “We Betazoids have all kinds of talents.”
Riker grunted, “You’re telling me.”
Troi gave Riker a withering stare, but soon couldn’t resist a grin.
It felt good to crack a joke or two, Riker thought. So far, their mission had been an uneventful and frustrating one. As many ramps as they negotiated, the result was always the same. Every tower was as empty as the first one they’d explored lots of big machines that weren’t giving up any secrets.
No clues as to what had happened to the builders. Nothing to really indicate what their race might have been like. And no evidence that any of them were still alive.
A few minutes ago, they had reached a large, round plate just inside the sensor-shielded section-not unlike the structure onto which they’d beamed down. Riker had called for a break while he tried to contact the ship.
But now, break time was over. “All right,” he told the rest of his team. He pointed to the cluster of towers up ahead. “Let’s stay together. And keep