Reunion - Michael Jan Friedman [47]
Maybe I should stick around, she told herself. For a while anyway, just in case—
Abruptly, they heard Picard’s voice addressing them over the intercom. All three of them looked up.
“As you know by now,” said the captain, “we are caught in a subspace phenomenon. We will be attempt-+ to escape that phenomenon in a few moments. Once again, I must ask that all decks be secured.”….”
Well, Crusher mused, so much for whether I should stay or go. Picard’s announcement had taken that decision out of her hands. Cadwallader gestured to a chair. “Have a seat, Doctor. After I thrash Captain Morgen, you can have a whack.”
Picard sat back in his command chair. In front of him, Wesley and Data had once more taken up their positions
at the forward stations. And as before, Geordi was off to the side at the engineering console.
But with Riker and Troi on the bridge, Simenon was content to take the proverbial backseat. He now stood next to Worf at Tactical, no doubt scrutinizing the efficiency with which the Klingon did his job.
“Mr. Crusher,” said the captain, “reverse engines.” Wesley carried out the order. Abruptly, the ship seemed to shoot forward again. The light streaks on the viewscreen resumed their earlier velocity. “Engines reversed, sir,” said the ensign. “We are now proceeding forward at warp four-or at least that’s our engine speed.” He glanced at another monitor. “Our actual speed is warp nine point nine five-just as it was before.”
Picard nodded. “Thank you, Mr. Crusher. Go to warp nine point six.” “Aye, sir.” Wesley touched the necessary controls. It had absolutely no effect on their velocity. The captain knew that even before Data announced it. “Warp nine point nine,” Picard instructed.
Still no change-other than the fact that their warp drive was laboring as hard as it ever had before. At this speed, the engines would hold out for only a few minutes-then they’d simply turn themselves off.
And as they accelerated beyond warp nine point nine, their ability to maintain speed would no doubt diminish accordingly—perhaps to no more than a matter of seconds. Nonetheless, the captain was inclined to approach his goal by degrees. He refused to play Russian roulette with in excess of a thousand lives. “Nine point nine three, Mr. Crusher.” “Nine point nine three, sir.”
Geordi spoke up: “Estimate one minute and forty-five seconds until engine auto-shutdown.”
Picard could feel the thrum of the engines through the deck. “Nine point nine five,” he said.
“Nine point nine five, sir.”
The vibration in the deck grew worse, joined by a high-pitched whine. Picard set his teeth against it. They were moving as quickly as the slipstream now. Keeping pace with it, as remarkable as that seemed. He thought he could feel the g-force pressing him back into his seat. But of course, that was just his mind playing tricks on him-wasn’t it? Or had the inertial dampers reached their limit? “Estimate auto-shutdown in nine seconds,” Geordi said over the whine. “It’s now or never, sir!”
With an effort, the captain leaned forward. Come on, Enterprise! “Nine point nine six, Mr. Crusher.”
“Nine point nine six!” Wesley repeated, unable to keep the excitement out of his voice. Nor did Picard blame him-no Federation vessel had ever traveled even this fast under its own power. The ensign made the necessary adjustments-and holding his breath, or so it appeared to Picard, pressed the “enter” key. Suddenly, the bridge was caught in the grip of chaos. The viewscreen seemed to burst with blinding light, while the whine became the worst kind of spine-shivering squeal. Worst of all, the captain felt himself thrust back as if by a giant hand, crushed into his command chair.
Then, as abruptly as it began, it was over. No whine, no vibration, no