Synthesis - James Swallow [107]
“This technology isn’t new to us,” Riker continued. He indicated the thin circlet of gold and tripolymer Ogawa had in her hands. “Back on the Enterprise, we did some of the first field trials of cybernetic interface systems. This is the same thing.”
“I read that file,” Vale replied. “It was Geordi La Forge who did the legwork on that test run, and that was because he already had his VISOR implant. Now you’re willing to get a hole drilled into your head on the say-so of a machine?”
Riker stiffened, and Ree smelled the release of scent carriers that indicated the human’s building irritation. “Your concern for my well-being is noted, Number One, but this isn’t open for discussion. One of us has to go into the dataspace with White-Blue. This implant is the only way to make the interface.”
“I can conceal the second neural pattern beneath my own,” added the AI. “William-Riker will be able to enter the virtual construct and observe directly.”
“I’m not going to ask anyone else to take this on,” he added.
Vale looked away, looked back. “Doctor Ree, where did you get the template for that implant?”
Ree blinked. He hadn’t expected to be dragged into the discussion. “A variety of sources. White-Blue provided the basic framework for the replication. Starfleet medical records. Materials from the interface project mentioned by the captain and… and other research conducted by the medical staff of the U.S.S. Voyager.”
“In other words, it’s Borg-legacy technology.”
“This is no time to be squeamish, Chris.” Riker turned back toward the biobed. “The ghosts of the Borg have been at the edges of everything we’ve said and done since we entered this region of space. But they’re gone. They’re history. We need to stop living in the shadow of our fears. And we need to do this right now.”
“What if you plug that thing in and it pan-fries your brain?”
“The possibility of that is very minimal,” rumbled Ree.
“Trust,” said Riker. “That’s what this is about. I’m trusting White-Blue, because that’s the only way we’re going to contain the Null.”
Something flashed in the woman’s eyes, a choice made. Then, suddenly, Vale was rocking off her feet, striding forward around her commanding officer, toward the biobed. “No,” she said as she went. “No, that’s not how it is going to play.”
Ree blinked in surprise as the commander vaulted onto the bed. “Wait—”
“No time,” Vale replied, beckoning to Ogawa. “The captain’s too valuable to the ship for this. And besides, away missions are my job, not his.”
“You’re countermanding me?” Riker said, a warning in his voice.
“Absolutely, I am,” she replied. “And what’s more, Doctor Ree and the counselor are going to back me up on it.”
The Pahkwa-thanh coughed. “Her point is well made, sir.”
“If rather forcefully,” added Troi.
“You’re sure?” Riker asked quietly. “You remember that conversation we had about thickheadedness, about spur-of-the-moment stuff?”
“I’m sure it will come back to me, sir.” Vale looked at the Sentry, the machine’s forelegs bent down in a manner that might have seemed predatory to someone of lesser fortitude. “In the meantime, do it, before I change my mind.”
The AI didn’t answer her; instead, it leaned in, extending a fan of microminiature cutting tools and fine-beam lasers toward her scalp.
TWELVE
At first, it was like falling. Then it was like drowning.
And then… then it didn’t feel like anything at all. Christine Vale panicked and screamed, reached out to grab hold of something, or at least she would have, if there had still been a body to answer those impulses from her mind.
She had no physicality at all, not even the most basic sense of self. It was unlike any experience she had ever encountered. The first