Reunion - Michael Jan Friedman [18]
The Klingon cleared his throat. It immediately had the desired effect, as Ben Zoma’s attention was returned to him. “Sorry,” said the captain of the Lexington. “By all means, carry on, Lieutenant.”
“We have four such facilities on the Enterprise, continued Worf, as if he’d never stopped. “All four are on deck eleven. In addition, there are smaller ver-sions—compersonal holodecks-scattered throughout the ship.”
He tried to avoid the Daa’Vit’s gaze—but it was not entirely possible. After all, he was standing square in the center of the group.
“I have a question,” said Greyhorse.
Worf turned to him, relieved—even though he had to look up at the man, and he wasn’t used to looking up at people. “Yes, Doctor.” “Is it true that the holodecks are used for exercise regimens? Jogging and so forth?”
The Klingon nodded. “They can be. Of course, the areas in the holodecks are finite. One cannot jog very far without reaching the wall, However-was
“However,” Greyhorse interrupted, “the electromagnetic fields that make up the ground underfoot flow in a direction opposite that of the runner’s progress-acting as a sort of treadmill, and giving the runner the illusion that he or she is moving forward.”
The Klingon frowned. “More or less, yes.” Obviously, the man was familiar with special field theory. But then, that was not surprising. He was a doctor, and doctors used force fields in any number of procedures.
“But,” Greyhorse went on, “what happens if a second participant is placed in the holodeck—one who is
stationary? Does the holodeck maintain the illusion of increasing distance between the stationary observer and the jogger? And if so, how is that accomplished?”
Worf grunted. “A good question,” he conceded, despite the brusque manner in which it was posed. He approached the computer terminal built into the bulkhead. “And one that is best answered by a demonstration.”
Seeking a relatively simple environment for purposes of demonstration, he called up the Ander’s Planet program. Instantly, the doors opened on a barren but level stretch of terrain, ruddy with the orange light of twin suns.
“Follow me,” he instructed, and entered. The others trailed along behind him, looking around and murmur-+ appreciatively, “Ander’s Planet,” concluded Morgen, “in the Beta Sardonicus system. Correct?”
“Correct,” said Worf without actually looking at the Daa’Vit. “I will need a volunteer-to serve as Dr. Greyhorse’s jogger.” Ben Zoma raised his hand. “I’m your man. Neither my Daa’Vit friend nor the doctor have stayed in very good shape, I’m afraid. Old age robs some people of their motivation.”
“And others of their sense,” retorted Greyhorse. Morgen laughed. “Where do I begin?” asked Ben Zoma.
“Right where you are standing,” said Worf. “But first, let me make an adjustment-so we can all be heard, no matter how far you go.” He looked up at the sky.
“Computer-amplify our voices so that we can be heard throughout the program.”
“Done,” said a pleasant female voice.
Worf turned to Ben Zoma. “All right,” he said. “You may begin jogging. In any direction.”
With a last look at Morgen and Greyhorse, Ben Zoma started off. Slowly, at little more than a brisk walk. And as if they were truly on Ander’s Planet, he seemed to be getting a little farther away with each stop.
Morgen said as much.
“Look back at us,” Worf instructed Best Zoma. “What do you see?” His voice was like thunder. It seemed to reverberate to the heavens and back, godlike.
The captain of the Lexington looked back over his shoulder. “The distance between us is increasing.” “Fascinating,” said Greyhorse. “Actually,” Worf told him, “it is quite simple. You see, the illusion created by the holodeck is made up of three components. One is the manipulation of electromagnetic fields you referred to a moment ago. Another is the creation of actual objects, using transporter-analog matter-conversion technology-though these objects must be simple and inanimate. Also, there are devices to simulate sound,