The Children of Hamlin - Carmen Carter [82]
The bridge crew stopped in mid-motion, entranced by what they heard. The throaty chorus was far deeper than that of the B Flat singers; it possessed the broad resonance of a cathedral organ and a wide range of voices which rose and fell in complex harmony. Deelor waited for Ruthe’s reaction; she displayed none that he could observe. Either she was indifferent to the character of the sound or she already knew what to expect.
“Not a single note,” said Picard with surprise as he listened to the undulating music. “More like a chord.”
“A D Major chord, to be precise,” noted Deelor. He stepped up to the captain’s chair. “We’re in trouble.”
The quiet statement snapped Picard’s attention away from the Choraii song. “Explain.”
“Pitch is an indication of a ship’s age. In addition, listen to the number of voices,” Deelor instructed. “Only five different tones are present, but I suspect many of the parts are doubled or even tripled. A conservative estimate indicates eleven singers, which means the ship is very old and therefore very powerful. More than a match for the Enterprise.”
Ruthe’s answering song caught him by surprise. She had mounted the aft bridge and played as if from a stage. The tripping notes from her flute hovered several registers above the drone of the Choraii D Major chorus as she wove an intricate counterpoint to their melodic line.
“Captain, shall I broadcast her response?” asked Yar, lowering the growing volume of the Choraii transmission.
Picard hesitated. “Is something wrong, Ambassador?”
“What?” Then Deelor realized he had been frowning as he listened. “No, nothing’s wrong.”
The captain waved an assent to Lieutenant Yar. Ruthe played on and the tempo of the intertwined sounds quickened.
“They’ve heard her.” Deelor’s own heart began to beat more rapidly, as if striving to match the pulse of the music.
“And here they come,” announced Geordi from the helm. His energy-sensitive visor had picked out the first glimmer of the approaching vessel on the battle-bridge viewer, but by the time his warning drew the crew’s attention to the screen, the image of the Choraii ship had tripled in size.
Deelor caught his breath at the sight. Even without any reference point in space, he could sense how massive the ship must be. Whereas the B Flat had been composed of some two dozen neatly packed bubbles, the D Major was a jumbled conglomeration of over a hundred spheres. An elongated stream of large bubbles formed the central mass, with smaller ones tucked into crevices and dotted here and there over the outer edges. Deelor had never faced a ship of this complexity before.
“Reduce magnification,” ordered Picard as the D Major filled the frame, then spilled beyond its borders. His brow furrowed. “So these are the destroyers of New Oregon.”
The approaching cluster tumbled in space. As a new side rolled into view, Deelor spotted several purple spheres nestled in the exterior layer. “Captain … “
“Yes, I see them,” said Picard tersely. “Data, prepare your neutralizing probe for launch. Just in case we end up inside another energy net.”
“Neutralization efforts would be ineffective,” said Data. He further reduced the screen magnification as the Choraii ship threatened to outgrow the frame once again. “The net draws power from the mother ship and the D Major can release a far greater energy surge than can be siphoned off by the probe.”
“Which means their net would crush us faster as well.”
“Captain, we would still have time to drill through the spheres with our phasers,” said Worf.
“Yes,” agreed Data “But my calculations indicate a seventy-eight point five percent chance that such a scenario would end in mutual destruction.”
“That’s enough talk of battle,” said Deelor impatiently. “This is going to remain a peaceful encounter.”
“So far, the peaceful intentions have remained ours and ours alone,” said Picard bitterly. “The Choraii loot and destroy and then we pay them for their ill-gotten gains.”
The flight of the D Major came to an abrupt halt. The glowing orange