The Sky's the Limit - Marco Palmieri [172]
Perhaps it was an indication of a transporter malfunction? If so, it would be important. With only one transporter room operational, it could leave the ship reliant entirely on shuttles. Feeling vaguely and uncomfortably like an XO, Worf sought out Geordi. He was sitting at his master display panel in engineering. “Commander La Forge.”
“What can I do for you, Worf?”
“Have there been any reports of transporter malfunctions lately?”
Geordi looked surprised at the question. “No, none at all. The phase transition coils are all brand-new anyway, and all the crew rotation transports have been boosted from Station McKinley’s transporters.”
“Could their transporters be malfunctioning?”
“Well, McKinley’s been in service for decades, but it’s Earth’s main transit point for orbital transfers. Its engineering team is one of the biggest in Starfleet and would be pretty quick to pick up on any malfunction.” Geordi shook his head. “Why do you ask? Is there some problem?”
“I found a piece of luggage in a corridor. The crew member it belonged to says he lost it in transit.”
“You mean it materialized in a corridor instead of on the pad?” Geordi sounded as concerned as he was curious. He turned his chair around and pulled up a schematic. “Did he call in a report?”
“Not yet. He says he believed that the trunk simply was not sent from McKinley, even though it was on the pad next to him.”
“Well, it’s always possible they could have selected one pad to activate and not another, but there would have to have been a reason to split up a set of transports that are all going to the same place.”
“Such as?”
“I dunno…Maybe there was a malfunction warning on one pad, and the transporter operator decided to shut it down. Or maybe there was something the operator thought was dangerous and decided to hold in transit. But that would happen only if, say, someone was firing a weapon as they were picked up in the beam.”
“And could one object be separated in the pattern buffer and rematerialized in a different location from the rest of the pattern?”
“It could be done, but it’d be tricky and probably not worth the effort. Or the risk. But I’ll have it checked out.”
Worf considered all of this. None of it sounded likely to have happened, but this meant another possibility. “Then perhaps we have a thief on board, who was disturbed before he could steal from the trunk and had to drop it.”
“Or maybe a grudge,” suggested Geordi. “Some kind of prank aimed at Gregory.”
“That is also possible,” Worf admitted. “Thank you. I have much to think about before the next security briefing.”
Spot had eaten well. The Klingon had known her favorite food and given her it. She had, of course, waited until he had left before she ate it. It wouldn’t do for her companion to consider her too predictable.
Satisfied, she strolled through the quarters again. There were gaps between walls and furniture, and the occasional openable closet or drawer. These would all be good places in which to hide when she wanted to have fun watching her companion’s reactions, or when she wanted a nap that wouldn’t be disturbed. She was about to settle down for a doze when a breath of air ruffled her fur. Curious, she turned her head around until the breeze was in her face.
There was a vent high up in the wall above a strange chair made of dense black globes. A mesh grille covered the vent. Spot leaped up onto the chair and onto the highest of the black globes. Another jump took her onto a thin ledge right next to the vent. There was a strange scent coming from it, something she had never smelled before.
Spot rubbed the side of her head against the corner of the grille, and it moved slightly, coming away from the wall. The tip of her tail writhed from side to side with excitement. She wondered if she could get inside. One paw could get between the grille and the edge of the vent, and then her narrow nose and snout could follow.
In moments,