Surak's Soul - J.M. Dillard [57]
“We’ve got better things to worry about right now,” Archer said. Hoshi could no longer hold Porthos back; Archer took the dog from her, and let him burrow against the hollow of his chest.
Trip Tucker took a step forward to address the captain now that the medical procedure was finished. “Captain, Hoshi was able to get through to Starfleet, though all channels are on the fritz again now. But at least they know, and maybe someone’ll even send help. We figure you were able to somehow discombobulate—”
“—the creature, yes,” Archer finished for him. “Trip, you’re not going to believe how simple it all is. It’s a matter of—”
“Electricity,” Trip said. “Simple electricity. Malcolm and I are putting together a device that generates an electrical field. We figure we can either zap Wanderer with it or somehow use it to contain the creature.”
Archer stared at him. He was unsure whether to be glad or annoyed that Trip had figured things out before he, Archer, had a chance to save the day with his pronouncement.
Trip read his expression. “Well, it wasn’t really our idea to begin with,” he hedged. “Doctor Phlox was the one who suggested Wanderer might be feeding off the subtle electromagnetic fields we generate. That’s why engineering flummoxes the creature. I didn’t realize, but the warp engines generate a mild electromagnetic field, somewhat stronger than your average human body.”
Archer nodded. “Good work. That’s what incapacitated Wanderer, all right—probably at the very time Hoshi was able to get a clear channel. Now we just need to do it again—indefinitely, until we can figure out what to do with the creature. How long before the device is completed?”
“Not long at all. Thirty minutes, tops. We’re just trying to be sure we can aim the darned thing so we don’t electrocute ourselves. Speaking of which…” He looked pointedly at Archer’s head; the captain lifted a hand to his hair and realized it still stood on end, then smoothed it as best he could. “Sounds like you had some up-close experience with our theory.”
“Let’s just say I had a personal encounter.” Archer paused, then said, upbeat, “Get back to work, Commander. We need you to finish that thing.”
Nearby, T’Pol listened to the conversation between the captain and Commander Tucker. She gathered that it could not be ascertained how much damage this electrical device might cause Wanderer—whether it would simply entrap the creature, or cause it great distress or damage, or even destroy it entirely.
Though she remained alert and standing, surrounded by other crew members, she permitted her mind to enter a waking meditative state, which she would end the instant required. Her instant of hesitation when Archer had ordered her to fire the pistol set on kill at Wanderer troubled her as much as her swiftness in firing at the Oani man who had attacked Hoshi—a fact she found perplexing, and so she sought to reason it out.
Had the kill setting actually disabled or destroyed Wanderer, then the Enterprise crew—and countless other humanoid races Wanderer might encounter in the future—would no longer be at risk. Was she, by refusing to take action against Wanderer, enabling murder?
The image of herself as a child, distressed over the dead ch’kariya, surfaced in her mind. She had known, even then, that the small, furry creature was no match for her in intelligence; its life was a dim shadow of hers in terms of knowledge and perception. Yet she had no right to deny it such a life.
At the same time, she realized that she fed on the death of plants, considered by Vulcans and all other humanoids to be nonsentient. Yet plants had sensation; they reproduced. They lived. How would she react if another, supposedly superior being called her a murderer because her physiology required her to live on them?
But they have been shown to possess no consciousness. Therein lies the difference.
How could she convince Wanderer that humanoids possessed a consciousness, when the entity could not detect it?
She