Requiem - Michael Jan Friedman [13]
Well, well, Geordi thought. Old Barclay has a sense of humor. I didn’t think he could surprise me anymore.
Suddenly, the lieutenant was up and out of the tunnel. Geordi followed closely, glad to give his knees a break. As Barclay swept the room with the handlamp, Geordi scanned it with his VISOR and took a quick reading with his tricorder.
This was definitely some type of control center. The room had no windows, but there was a great deal of circuitry running into the panel and monitor on the far wall. And the circuitry seemed remarkably intact, considering its age.
Geordi’s observations were cut short when he heard a sound on his left. Seeing motion, he jumped—and then chided himself when he realized it was Commander Riker’s familiar form standing in front of another access tunnel.
The exec nodded by way of a greeting as he dusted himself off. “Fancy meeting you here.”
La Forge smiled. “For a second there, I thought you were the landlord.”
Riker grinned. “No. But let’s hope that if they do come home, and find us here, they’re in a good mood.”
Taking a few steps toward the entrance, Geordi leaned in to quietly address the first officer. “Sir, it seems safe in here, and we don’t have time for much more than a quick look around. I was thinking that maybe the captain would appreciate a chance to see this firsthand. And if it is Iconian …”
Riker gave the suggestion a moment’s sober consideration. “Let’s ask him.”
Not more than a second or two after the captain had materialized on the alien station, his communicator chirped.
“Picard here,” he responded.
As he had expected, it was Riker. The captain and the first officer had transported to and from the ship and station simultaneously.
“Just wanted to make sure you arrived safely, sir. I’ll be on the bridge if you need me.”
“Thank you, Number One. Picard out.”
“What do you think, Captain?”
Picard turned and saw it was Geordi who’d asked the question.
For a long moment, the captain did nothing but study his surroundings. The alien station was surprisingly … comfortable. The walls displayed soothing earth tones, though he didn’t doubt they were made of sophisticated alloys and polymers.
Each bulkhead was made of rectangular panels whose edges were molded with a simple but elegant design. The ceilings stood a comfortable two and a half meters high, and the small chamber they occupied was so pleasing as to almost seem quaint.
Space stations were all too often coldly functional, or intimidatingly open and airless, or dark and forbidding as he had seen in Cardassian design. But the effect here was like no other station he had ever visited. It was almost like an old-fashioned front parlor.
“Cozy, huh?” Geordi asked.
“Yes, quite pleasant,” Picard answered. “The builders seemed to be at least partly guided by aesthetics.”
“Wait’ll you see the control center,” said the engineer. “Come with me, sir.”
The captain did as La Forge requested, trailing the younger man out into the corridor, to what appeared to be an access tunnel. Hunkering down, Geordi crept inside, and Picard again followed suit.
The chamber on the other end was a flurry of activity. Barclay, O’Connor, and Varley had set up all kinds of diagnostic equipment, in an effort to understand the station better. They all nodded respectfully as the captain entered.
“As you were,” said Picard. He turned to a bulkhead full of differently shaped monitors and what looked like computer controls.
“Whoever constructed this place was pretty advanced,” Geordi said. “Not only did they create a sophisticated set of instruments—and some of this stuff, I can’t even guess at—but they really built it to last.”
The captain noted the single operating monitor, which was displaying a starfield. “A portion of the equipment is still functional, I understand?”
Geordi ran his hands over the controls with what seemed like reverence to Picard. “Yes, but it shouldn’t be. This monitor started functioning shortly after we arrived.”
Watching closely, the captain saw the scene on the