The Eyes of the Beholders - A. C. Crispin [40]
“I see … ,” Picard said slowly.
A moment of leaden silence passed, then the captain straightened his shoulders with an effort and sat up in his seat. “Let us, for a moment, review our situation. We are being held by some kind of tractor field that is unlike any we have encountered before, one that apparently is capable of proportionately increasing its strength to keep captive whatever it has managed to trap.” He took a deep breath. “The source of this field is an artifact that was obviously constructed by some beings extremely alien to us—so alien that even to look upon an object they constructed is extremely disorienting to human vision.
“Our instruments detect no life-forms aboard the artifact, but the energy field surrounding it interferes considerably with our sensors. Still, since our hails have produced no response, and there is absolutely no indication that anything organic exists aboard the structure, for the moment I am going on the assumption that the artifact is either functioning by remote control or obeying programming given it by beings who are either dead or gone.
“From using the library computer to identify as many ships as possible in this …”—Picard glanced over at La Forge—”this space Sargasso, we have been able to determine that the artifact has apparently been ensnaring vessels not only since before the Federation was formed but before either the Romulan or the Klingon empires arose.”
Wesley Crusher’s eyes widened at the idea of such age.
“Each of the vessels is, as far as we can determine, in perfect operating order. Not marred from cosmic dust accretion, no signs of meteor impacts, nothing. Something about this field apparently preserves them as well as imprisons them.”
Picard looked around at each of his officers. “When I first saw the alien artifact, it was difficult to see, because my eyes did not want to follow its contours. My emotional reaction was that I should look away, because the thing was not put together in any sane fashion that my brain could readily comprehend. Then, when I forced myself to concentrate on its shape and colors, I experienced such vertigo that I felt vaguely nauseated. What about the rest of you?”
Riker, Wesley, and Worf all agreed that they had experienced similar reactions. Beverly Crusher, who had watched the record of the event after the fact, announced that she, too, had been sickened by the sight of the artifact. The captain turned to his third-in-command. “Mister Data, how did the sight of the artifact affect you?”
The android officer considered for a moment. “I did not experience the emotional distress, repugnance, vertigo, or nausea that the artifact apparently generates in humanoids,” he said finally. “However, my circuitry is not calibrated to allow me to see the thing in any meaningful way. To me it is a blur, though I can make out a few details. Its colors are such that they overload the color-sensing circuits in my positronic brain, and I perceive it mostly in shades of gray, values of light and shadow.”
Picard nodded, then turned to the chief engineer. “Mister La Forge, how did the artifact appear to you?”
Geordi shrugged. “Captain, I examined it thoroughly, and it didn’t look like anything I ever saw before … but it didn’t bother me to look at it.” He smiled ruefully. “And I may sound crazy saying this, but it had a … symmetry about it that I found, well … beautiful. The colors harmonize with the shapes of the various pods that stick out of it.”
Taken aback, Picard glanced at his second-in-command. Riker raised his eyebrows, then shook his head in silence. “Mister La Forge,” the captain said, “can you sketch the artifact as it appeared to you? At least a rough approximation of its actual shape?”
“I’m no artist, but I can try, sir,” Geordi said, and he activated the controls in the table, so that what he produced would be shown up on the viewer for all to see.
Moving his fingers hesitantly, Geordi “sketched,” using the