Part 16 (1/2)

It seemed that Data's answer began before Picard's question was finished. ”A twenty-degree turn will allow the s.h.i.+p to enter a safe orbit around the star.”

The captain whirled toward the engineering station. ”Did you hear that, Number One?”

”I did, sir,” came the reply. ”Twenty degrees...”

There was a silent ”if” hanging on the end of that phrase. As in if I can do it. Even a twenty-degree variation would be a prodigious task under these conditions. And if they managed only nineteen degrees? There would be nothing left of them but cinders.

”Port thrusters ahead full, starboard back full.”

”Aye, sir,” called the first officer, following Picard's orders.

As Riker bent to his task, the captain glanced at the viewscreen. The star was terribly close; he could almost feel its fury on his face. If his plan didn't work, they were goners. It was as simple as that.

”Our flight path is changing,” Data announced.

”Right ten point seven degrees ... insufficient to clear the photosphere.”

Riker looked up at the intercom grid. ”Bridge to engineering. Lieutenant Bartel-divert all power from auxiliary relay systems to the maneuvering thrusters.”

”Our angular deflection is increasing,” observed the android. ”Now at fifteen degrees ... eighteen degrees ... turn now at twenty point one degrees.”

Picard looked at the viewscreen. Would it be enough? Could Data have miscalculated? The sun at the center of the sphere was looming larger and larger...

And then, as the captain held his breath, the giant viewscreen image of the star finally s.h.i.+fted to the left... then more ... and still more ... as the s.h.i.+p managed to turn away from it. Finally, they pa.s.sed the outer edges of the photosphere to starboard-if only just.

There was a collective sigh of relief, almost as if the bridge itself were exhaling. Picard realized his hands had become fists; he relaxed them.

In front of him, Rager's shoulders unclenched. ”We're in orbit, Captain. Holding at one hundred fifty thousand kilometers above the photosphere.”

”I'll see about getting main power back on-line,” Riker volunteered.

”Very well,” said Picard. As Riker exited the bridge, he took his seat and leaned back into it. That had been, as they say, a close one. ”Mr. Data, begin a scan of the interior surface for life-forms. I want to know who brought us here ... and why.”

”Aye, sir,” said Data, already complying with the captain's command.

The captain wished he could get word to the Jenolen somehow. But Geordi and Scott would be all right-at least for the time being.

Chapter Eleven.

IT HAD BEEN a long time since anyone had attempted to use the sensor controls in the Ops center of the transport vessel Jenolen. All things considered, they were in remarkably good shape.

Working alongside Scott, Geordi pushed the s.h.i.+p's scanners to their limits. But try as he might, he couldn't turn up so much as a blip.

”I can't find them anywhere in orbit,” he said out loud.

”No luck here either,” replied his companion.

”They wouldn't have just upped and left,” Geordi insisted.

”Nae even fer an emergency?” asked Scott.

The younger man shook his head. ”They would've beamed us back aboard first. Or at least let us know what they were going.”

Scott nodded his head. ”Aye. I guess they would've at that.” Suddenly, his brow furrowed. ”Ye dinnae suppose they crashed into the sphere ... just as the Jenolen did?”

Geordi rejected the idea. ”No. We'd be picking up background radiation and debris if they'd gone down like that.” He bit his lip. ”But then, where are they? They couldn't have just vanished into the void.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Scott's eyes narrowed with thought. ”There's another possibility,” he ventured. ”They could be inside the sphere.”

Geordi looked at him. At first blush, it sounded preposterous. Ridiculous. But the more he considered it... ”Maybe,” he said. ”Yeah. Maybe.”

”Nae just maybe,” his companion countered. ”They're in there. It's the only place they could be, lad.”

The younger man took a breath and let it out. ”Whatever's happened, we've got to find them. If we can get these engines back on-line, we could track the Enterprise by its impulse ion trail.”

Suddenly, Scott turned livid. He held out his hands palms-up to show his helplessness. ”Are ye daft?” he asked. ”The main drive a.s.sembly's completely shot, the inducers are melted and the power couplings are wrecked. We'd need a week just to get started!”

Geordi felt the anger building inside him, crawling up his throat-ready to burst forth from his mouth. First he couldn't get this guy to stand aside-and now he couldn't convince him to help. No matter what he promised the captain, he'd taken about all he could- ”Wait a minute,” said Scott. He stroked his chin for a second or two ... and then went on like the most reasonable man you'd ever want to meet. ”We dinnae have a week, now do we? So there's no sense cryin' about it. Come on. Let's see what we can do with that power converter ye're so fond of.” Then, turning away from Geordi, Scott made his way toward the engines-leaving the younger man a little surprised. With a bemused look, he followed his predecessor's lead.

As tenuous as their situation was as they orbited the captive sun, Picard could not help but remember his mission. As he'd told Data not too long before, they had gone out into s.p.a.ce to seek out new life and new civilizations-and the builders of this Dyson Sphere promised to represent the strangest civilization of all.

It was at least part of the reason he had asked his second officer to examine the inside of the solar system-sized construct. The other part was based on a more selfish motivation survival.

Someone had gone to the trouble of drawing them inside this thing. It was inc.u.mbent on them to find this someone if they were to have any serious hope of reopening the hatch and gaining their freedom.

Unfortunately, Lieutenant Worf had already a.n.a.lyzed the sphere's composition and discovered it to be composed of carbon-neutronium-one of the hardest substances known to the Federation. Even at full power, they could not generate a phaser barrage strong enough to punch a hole in the outer sh.e.l.l.

”Captain?”

Picard traced the call to its source one of the aft science stations. ”Yes, Data. Have you got something already?”

”I do, sir.”

It was difficult to tell from the android's expression, which was as deadpan as ever, just what it was he had. Containing his curiosity for just another moment, the captain joined his second officer.

”I have completed the bio scan of the interior surface of the sphere,” Data informed him.

Picard took a look at the monitor, where the evidence was plain to see. His hopes sank. ”No life,” he concluded.

The android looked almost sympathetic. ”That is correct, sir. The sphere appears to be abandoned. Although ...” He switched to another graphic-one that mapped out the surface of the sphere in terms of sensor efficiency. ”.. . our instruments seem incapable of probing a small area ... right there.”

Picard followed Data's finger as he pointed to the spot in question. The captain grunted. ”In other words,” he said, ”we do not know if there is any life in that location or not.”

”We do not,” the android confirmed. ”Of course, one might conclude that since the rest of the surface has apparently been deserted-”

”That this section has been deserted as well,” the captain remarked, completing his second officer's thought. ”On the other hand, if this area is s.h.i.+elded from our sensors, it may have been s.h.i.+elded for a reason.” He reflected on the possibility. ”Say, by a group who elected to stay in the sphere when the others left-and wished to remain hidden from any who might enter here.”