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“I know that,” said Giotto brusquely. “I’m just suggesting you don’t pin your hopes on it.”

Seven Deers was taking a closer look at the machine. “This contraption might still work,” she said.

Kirk seemed skeptical. “It’s a miracle it hasn’t rusted through.”

Seven Deers shook her head. “Oh, this wouldn’t rust, Captain. It’s made of the same hyperbonded material as the doors and tunnel walls.”

“Can you get it to work?”

The engineer hesitated only slightly before nodding. “I can give it a shot, Captain.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” Kirk said, smiling.

“Are we going down, Captain?” Chekov was eager to put right what he’d messed up.

“That’s right, Mister Chekov. Even if we don’t find Yüksel, I want to see what’s so important these people built this massive cavern for it.”

Doctor McCoy was about to leave the bridge when Vincent DeSalle arrived. The ship’s assistant chief engineer looked uncomfortable. It was plain he felt his damage-control report had to be delivered in person.

“Lieutenant, your report,” Sulu said.

“Most of the damage we sustained is impact-related,” DeSalle said. “From the unplanned transition from subspace to normal space.”

“What about the power systems?” asked Sulu. “Why do we experience that cutout every time?”

DeSalle was standing over Ensign Harper at the engineering station, who looked nervous in the presence of his superior. The lieutenant hit a couple of controls, replacing the unmoving stars on the viewscreen with a cutaway diagram of the Enterprise. “I’ve highlighted power conduits in yellow,” he said. “If you watch this…” The yellow lines disappeared and reappeared. “Every one of them shuts down for a split second when we hit a distortion. It took a while, but we eventually traced the cause—the computer systems shut down and had to reboot.”

“Why,” asked Sulu, “if they didn’t take any damage?”

“We’re looking into that,” said DeSalle. “We’ve got some ideas.”

McCoy moved closer to the viewscreen, looking at the diagram. “There’s no apparent cause?” He felt the need to emphasize the point.

You do that because you recognize when someone’s trying to hide complete ignorance.

“No,” DeSalle grudgingly admitted. “I’ve got the computer section checking and rechecking every duotronic circuit, but so far they’ve found nothing.”

“That’s three unexplained problems,” McCoy said. “Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t believe in coincidence.”

“Three problems?” asked Sulu. “The distort-zone, the computers, and… what else?”

McCoy briefly outlined what had happened to the espers. “I can’t find a cause for it in any of them.”

You actually admitted that out loud? You’re braver than I thought.

He tried to shush his inner voice, but it was getting harder and harder.

“What could connect a computer failure to comas, though?” asked DeSalle. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“Nothing about this makes sense,” said Sulu. “Any suggestions, Lieutenant Rodriguez?”

The science officer had been listening to and quietly responding to someone via his earpiece and hadn’t been paying attention. “Sorry, sir. I was just talking to Padmanabhan in spatial physics. He’s on his way up with a report on the distortions.”

“Very well, Mister Rodriguez.” McCoy could sense the disapproval in Sulu’s voice. Being the science officer of a starship was a difficult task; there were a lot of disciplines you were required to be conversant with. The Spocks who had mastered all of them were few and far between.

“Do you know of any link between the computers and the espers?” Sulu asked.

Rodriguez shook his head. “No, sir.”

The turbolift doors hissed open, discharging an Indian man—almost a boy, really, McCoy thought—in a blue sciences uniform. He had a data slate in front of him, which he was scribbling on even as he stepped onto the bridge. He continued using it as he passed McCoy to join Rodriguez at his console, handing it to him as he arrived. “Here you go, Esteban,” he said.

“Thanks, Homi.”

McCoy wasn’t the only one