Part 13 (1/2)
”I hope so,” said Reg, shaking his head. ”By now, Tangre Bertoran has had plenty of time to go the sh.e.l.l and verify it for himself. If we go back there now, maybe we can get some cooperation.”
The captain frowned. ”But we can't really stop the synergy between the rift and the sh.e.l.l until we break the encryption. We've got to find the one who did this.”
”It could even be Tangre Bertoran,” said Pazlar.
”Or one of six senior engineers who are scattered all over the planet,” muttered Riker. ”We need a plan B in case we never find this criminal. Is there any way to turn off the sh.e.l.l and reboot the system?”
”Not that we've seen,” answered Reg. ”As Data pointed out, the system isn't designed to be shut down.”
”It would only take an instant to lose the planet's atmosphere,” said Pazlar, sounding horrified at the very idea. ”We can't shut down the sh.e.l.l.”
”The only thing in the sh.e.l.l that's crucial to the atmosphere are the forcefields,” said Picard thoughtfully. ”Maybe there's a way to keep them going. We've got to get back to the sh.e.l.l and talk to the senior engineers.”
”I'm ready,” said Barclay, struggling to sit up.
”Not you, Lieutenant,” said the captain with a smile. ”You've done enough for today.”
”But I am one of the senior engineers ... sort of.” Barclay tugged on the violet crystal hanging from his neck. ”Besides, I feel much better, really I do.”
”The doctor said he could leave whenever he felt better,” added Melora. She gazed fondly at Reg. ”This time, we'll leave on the artificial gravity in the shuttlecraft.”
”Very well.” The captain tapped his combadge. ”Picard to Data.”
”Data here,” came the response.
”Meet us in shuttlebay one. Commander Riker will take over the bridge.”
”Yes, sir.”
”On my way,” replied Riker, moving toward the exit. The big man glanced at the door of Troi's room, and anguish etched his handsome features. Reg had discovered that no one in sickbay was giving out any information about Counselor Troi, and she wasn't seeing visitors. Commander Riker must have known that, too, because he lowered his head and walked out the door.
Reg looked worriedly at Melora. ”We'd better have the doctor give us a few extra hypos. I think we're going to be gone for a while.”
En route in the shuttlecraft, Picard, Barclay, and Pazlar went over every bit of information they possessed with Data, who was the repository of all their knowledge concerning the rift, the sh.e.l.l, and Gemworld. The android had studied the data from the probe as well as Barclay's new information about the sh.e.l.l, and he theorized a cla.s.sic Catch-22: the rift would stay open as long as the sh.e.l.l collected dark matter, and the sh.e.l.l would collect dark matter as long as the rift stayed open. As long as these conditions remained in force, the dark, mutant crystal would continue to grow and choke the life out of Gemworld.
Picard had no solution to suggest. They would just have to keep gathering information until a solution presented itself. With any luck, thought the captain, maybe they could find the person who did this.
No Elaysians were seen drifting outside the Ninth Processing Gate so they tethered the shuttlecraft themselves and entered the sh.e.l.l. Captain Picard noted and was amused by the deference shown to Lieutenant Barclay. As Melora Pazlar led them through the tubular corridors, Elaysians and Alpusta pressed forward to see the human who wore the violet shard. When Reg nodded shyly at them, they shrunk back, as if unworthy or embarra.s.sed. Picard soon realized that Barclay, as unlikely as it seemed, had made himself something of a celebrity on Gemworld. Now he would have to be included on every away team to the planet.
In due course, they found themselves in the deadend pa.s.sageway that led to the central programming room. Picard's hackles rose when he saw two yellow-garbed Jeptah waiting outside the vault. He reminded himself that he had his own dignitary-Reg Barclay-and so no one could refuse the team access. However, he knew this encounter wouldn't be easy when the Jeptah turned around and one of them was revealed to be Tangre Bertoran.
The Peer of the Jeptah scowled at them. ”Come to gloat have you, Captain Picard? As you predicted, we're incapable of helping ourselves, and we have to depend upon our saviors from Starfleet.” Picard ignored the taunt.
Bertoran reserved his biggest sneer for Barclay. ”And here's the new proxy for the senior engineer of the Elaysians. What tricks have you and Zuka Juno concocted for us? Why won't he let us enter?”
”What do you mean?” asked Reg puzzledly.
”I mean, he's got the door barred from the inside. We've been standing out here for a long time, begging him to let us in.”
”what does he say?” asked Reg.
”He says nothing. He refuses to answer.” Bertoran looked at his fellow Jeptah. ”Are you sure he's in there?”
”Oh, yes, Exalted One.” He pointed to Reg and Melora. ”He entered with these two and has not left since then.”
”That was several hours ago,” said Melora.
”I can tell from the way the hatch is locked, that he's in there,” insisted the Jeptah.
Barclay pounded on the solid metal hatch and shouted, ”Zuka Juno! It's me ... your proxy! Let us in!”
There was no response, and Reg turned worriedly to the captain. ”I don't get it. He said he'd be trying to break the encryption and would wait for us to return.”
The captain turned to Tangre Bertoran. ”Is it all right if we break this hatch open?”
”How do you intend to do that? This door is made from our strongest alloy.” The Elaysian frowned worriedly. ”You're not going to shoot your phasers off in here, are you?”
”There's no need for that,” the captain a.s.sured him. ”Mr. Data, please open this hatch.”
”Yes, sir.” The android floated forward and anch.o.r.ed his feet in the circular entryway to give himself some leverage. Then he gripped the hatch wheel with both hands and gave it a twist. The sound of snapping metal could be heard even through the thick vault, and the wheel spun freely in Data's hands.
”By the Ancients-” muttered Bertoran, staring at the android. ”You are a remarkable being.”
”Thank you.” Data pushed the broken hatch, and it swung open, revealing nothing but a few sparkles of refracted light inside. ”Zuka Juno?” he asked politely. No answer came, and Captain Picard pulled himself up to the entryway to take a look. The hair rose on the back of his neck as his sense of danger was alerted. The feeling must have been widespread because no one else in the corridor spoke or moved. Data took the point and shot through the hatchway. When Picard heard no shouts of warning, he followed.
He found the android s.h.i.+ning a light around the hundreds of small drawers that lined the cylindrical chamber. It didn't take the android long to locate the body of a thin, older Elaysian floating in the back of the room. The man's eyes stared blankly in the unmistakable stupor of death. Data efficiently drew his tricorder and took a reading, but there was no urgency or surprise in his voice. ”He is dead.”
”What? What is it?” shouted Tangre Bertoran, muscling his way past the others in the hatchway. He swooped into the room and followed the light to the ghastly scene in the corner, and his arms fluttered with alarm. ”Help him! Is he alive?”
”No, we're too late,” said Picard. ”I'm sorry. Do you see any marks on him, Data?”
The android hovered closer to the corpse and inspected him with his light.
”Don't touch him!” wailed Tangre Bertoran. ”Leave him alone-you must not defile the body! He can only be handled by the Jeptah.”
”Is he Jeptah?” asked Data with curiosity.
”No, but that is our traditional function, even before we began caring for the Sacred Protector. We have strict protocols in these matters.”
”I'll bet,” said Barclay, peering into the hatchway. ”Can we find out how he died?”
Bertoran whirled on the lieutenant and glared at him before he realized that Picard was watching him closely. ”Perhaps,” said Bertoran with a curt bow. ”That is also a function of the Jeptah. But after all, he was an old man.”
”The timing of his death is rather suspicious,” observed Data, continuing a careful examination without actually touching the corpse. ”I see no obvious marks of foul play.”
”Foul play!” echoed Bertoran with a derisive snort. ”We may have accidental deaths on Gemworld, but we haven't had a murder in thousands of years.”