Synthesis - James Swallow [2]
Vale nodded. “It does seem like we’re using up all the good adjectives.” Temporal discontinuities and ocean worlds, interstellar conduits and cosmozoans, new life and new civilizations around every corner. When the uncanny and the unknown became commonplace, there was a risk you could become jaded. “Okay, not interesting, then. Let’s shoot for…” She paused, feeling for the right word. “Beguiling.”
“That’ll do.” Melora triggered a command, and the matrix of stars and worlds shifted abruptly, enough that Vale reached out a hand to steady herself on the podium. From her standpoint, it had to be like standing on the prow of a ship plunging headfirst through the void. By contrast, any sensation of vertigo was nonexistent for Melora, who had lived most of her life walking on air. She adjusted the scaling of the display and drew them deeper into the representation of the sector block that lay ahead of the Starship Titan. The viewpoint closed in on a relatively isolated binary system haloed by the indistinct shapes of a few planetary bodies. “Here we are.”
“You got a cute name for this one?” Vale asked lightly.
“Just a string of location coordinates and a catalog number at the moment.” She reached out and widened the interface panel, unfolding new windows that displayed real-time feeds from the Titan’s long-range sensor pallet. “Here’s what spiked my attention. Lieutenant Hsuuri pulled this out of a cursory automatic scan of the sector…” She highlighted a string of peaks in a sine-wave energy pattern. “Cyclic output on the extreme eichner bands, very tightly packed together.”
“Natural phenomena?” Vale raised an eyebrow.
“Not like this,” Melora replied. “At least, not like anything I’ve seen before. It’s too precise, too engineered.”
“Artificial, then.”
The Elaysian gave a slow pirouette. “And there’s more. See here, and here?” She brought up a second data window, filled with a waterfall of text readouts. “That looks like some variation of a Cochrane-type distortion. Very faint but definitely there.”
“Starships?”
“Starships.” A note of wonder crept into Melora’s voice. “Maybe.”
Drumming his fingers lightly on the wall of the turbolift, Will Riker adjusted the carryall dangling at his side, fixing the strap so that it wouldn’t bite so hard into the flesh of his shoulder. He felt every gram of the weight through the thin cotton of his short-sleeved Aloha shirt, and he shifted, trying and failing to find a more comfortable way of holding it.
The elevator car slowed to a halt, just as the captain realized he wasn’t actually at his destination; instead, the doors hissed open, and he found himself looking at the scaly countenance of his Pahkwa-thanh medical officer, Shenti Yisec Eres Ree. The saurian rocked on his clawed feet, hesitating on the lift’s threshold.
“Doctor?” Riker inclined his head, granting permission.
Ree’s long lips thinned, and he stepped into the elevator, drawing up his tail. “Captain. Pardon me, I was just on my way to sickbay.” He spoke in a deep, throaty rumble.
“Resume,” Riker told the lift, and it continued on its journey downship. For a moment, the humming of the electromag conveyors was the only sound. The silence was in danger of turning a little awkward; recent events had put some distance between the captain and his CMO, and despite an amount of spoken forgiveness, there was still a reticence between them.
Hardly surprising, Riker considered. He did bite my wife. And later kidnap her and my unborn daughter. Even with all of the best intentions, that sort of incident wasn’t just going to be forgotten overnight. Ree’s actions had been cleared by a board of inquiry, but that didn’t do anything to change the fact that the personal—if not professional—trust between the doctor and the captain and his wife had taken a hard knock. It would take a while to rebuild it to its former state.
Ree’s dark eyes gave