Текст книги "Sword of Damocles "

Автор книги: Geoffrey Thorne

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Текущая страница: 7 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

  Hsuuri worked with Jaza closely and claimed to actually admire the man. Hsuuri was an odd one. She also seemed to have “admiration” for that skinny Cardassian creature, Dakal, having expressed clear appreciation about the changes in his scent whenever they were close. In fact, much to Hriss’s distaste, she seemed to entertain the notion of exploring his obvious affection for her in depth.

   Blech!Humans were one thing. Despite smelling like a good meal, some of them could be occasionally compelling. But Cardassians, with all those ridges and the constant odor of day-old preth? Never. She’d sooner bed down with Dr. Ree. Luckily she had Rriarr to keep her warm. Caitian males might be boastful and lazy, but they had their pleasant qualities as well.

  Hriss was gratified that, thus far, neither of the senior officers had marked her presence; even the engineer’s Efrosian ears weren’t good enough for that. Though protocol required her to make her presence known to them, something in their postures told her it might be best to let them think they were alone for the time being.

  “Is that what the problem is?” said Mr. Jaza, squaring off before the taller man. “That I was in the resistance?”

  The engineer snorted. “Let’s just say, while you were tossing bombs and dodging plasma bolts, I was reshaping warp theory.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning,” said Ra-Havreii, “in matters of anything related to warp cores, warp propulsion, warp bubbles, warp theory, or warp technology, you would be wise to defer.”

  “ Titancan’t sustain a stable warp field, Doctor,” said Mr. Jaza. “No amount of deference is going to change that.”

  “And what was it you said earlier about minds opening and closing, Mr. Jaza?”

  Jaza’s eyes narrowed.

  “You’re a specialist,” the science officer said finally. “Specifically adapted to one set of tasks.” He moved past Ra-Havreii, their shoulders brushing hard against each other briefly before he dropped into a crouch beside the Ellington. “But warp physics doesn’t bypass quantum physics in every case.” He gestured at the visible nacelle that ran the length of the shuttle’s hull. “As long as the shuttle is inside the hangar bay, protected by Titan’s hull, it is possible we could form a stable warp field around it,” he said. “But, the second it goes outside, the same randomization of quantum properties that’s causing Titan’s problems will take effect. Even if you account for momentum and inertia-”

  The science officer stopped speaking abruptly. His eyes were wide and his mouth frozen open in mid-sentence so that he reminded Hriss of a shetrcalf she’d once stunned and then eaten. The look on his face was so suddenly comical that she was forced to stifle a chuckle.

  Mr. Jaza stood and, ignoring Ra-Havreii completely, began to walk slowly around the edge of the Ellington.

  Above him, hidden by shadows on the roof of the Marsalis, Hriss was struck again by how similar Mr. Jaza was to one of the males from back home.

   He’s stalking something, she thought. He’s definitely on the hunt.

  As the science officer walked, Ra-Havreii continued to lecture him about the vagaries of warp fields and how, with just a little creativity, he was sure they’d be able to light up the heavy-duty shuttles and use them to tow Titanto safety.

  “No. We won’t,” said Jaza, rounding the far corner of the Ellington, returning briefly to his original spot beside the engineer. “But it doesn’t matter. I’ve got a better idea.”

  “Please don’t take offense, Mr. Jaza,” said the Efrosian. “But I sincerely doubt that.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Vale, silently praying she’d misheard or misunderstood. “You want us to what?”

  Jaza repeated himself, outlining the hows and whys and the benefits and drawbacks of his notion and watched as his XO blanched at the thought.

  “That’s insane,” she said finally.

  “Maybe,” he said. “But it should work for something the size, mass, and particularly the shape of a shuttle.”

  In clear desperation Vale looked to Xin Ra-Havreii, hoping that, at the very least, the friction he’d developed with Jaza might inspire him to throw a spanner into the works. No such luck. The engineer only stood by, stroking the edges of his mustache, humming that blasted tune, apparently lost in thought. Wonderful.

  “You’ll destroy the hangar,” she said. “At least.”

  “I don’t think so,” said Jaza. “If we do this right, we’ll just ding it up a bit. We’re only talking about a microsecond or two. Barely enough time to perceive, much less do serious damage.”

  “I don’t know, Najem.” She was more than dubious. This was one of those insane schemes that would probably work but, if it didn’t, could make their current situation astronomically worse. Not to mention killing several indispensable members of her crew.

  “It’ll work, Chris,” said Jaza softly, noting her distress and placing a big gentle hand on her arm. The grip was firm, familiar, almost reassuring. “Just take it to the captain and let him decide.”

  “He wants to what?” said Will Riker from behind his desk at the far side of the ready room. He’d been cloistered away in there for the last couple of hours wrestling with his conscience, and it showed.

  The captain’s eyes had taken on that stony distant quality that Vale had learned to recognize and dislike. His jaw was clenched, set in a way that somehow made his features, normally puckish and engaging, into something that seemed carved from granite. Captains needed this quality of dispassionate calculation if they hoped to make the tough decisions, but she hated to see it evidenced so strongly in Will.

  She also noted, for the first time, the stark contrast between the offices of Counselor Troi and her husband’s ready room. While Troi’s domain was rife with personal touches meant to put visitors at ease, Riker’s was as impersonal as a room could be.

  There was the desk with its computer access node. There was a standard-issue chair, high-backed, sitting behind the desk with her captain in it. There was one relief sculpture, also of standard issue, of the Federation insignia on the wall behind the chair.

  That was it. It was as if Riker had set this place to remind himself that, once within it, he had no other role beyond that of ship’s captain.

  “Jaza wants to use the Picard Maneuver to get a heavy-duty shuttle into beaming distance from Orisha,” she said. There was something about Jaza’s plan that short-circuited the processes of a rational brain on the first couple of hearings. “Then the idea is to use maneuvering thrusters to land the shuttle there.”

  “And he wants to initiate while the shuttle is still in the hangar?” said Riker. Vale nodded.

  “We lock the place down, erect some energy dampers to block most of the damage to the equipment, open the hangar doors, and let ’er rip,” she said. “By the time the distortion out there destroys the warp bubble, they’ll be light-minutes away. After that they can use thrusters to make planetfall.”

  “Bumpy ride,” said Riker, mulling.

  “It’ll definitely be that,” she said.

  “And it’s potentially a one-way trip if they can’t make contact with the Orishans,” he said. “If they don’t, they’ll be months away from Titanat sublight speeds.”

  “And there’s still Ra-Havreii’s hypothesis that the pulses could continue,” she said. “Things could get much worse.”

  “Things could get much worse,” he said to himself. “Well, that’s always true, isn’t it?”

  She could tell something was ticking over in his brain but, as his expression still hadn’t returned to normal, she wasn’t eager to hear the result.

  “Jaza knows the risks, but he thinks they’re negligible compared to the alternative,” she said.

  “And Ra-Havreii?”

  “He’s unhappy about it, I think,” she said. “But he signed off too.”

  “What do youthink, Chris?”

  There it was: recommendation time. For an awful moment she had the sense of all the members of Titan’s crew somehow looking in on her, listening intently, and judging how she answered.

   Risk, maybe sacrifice, the lives of a few to save many. Was that always to be the equation?

  “I think we don’t have enough options to be picky,” she said finally, pushing the faces and doubts away. Her own mind had followed his into that hard granite place. She hoped it didn’t show. “I think we have to try it. Presuming you’ve made a decision about contacting the Orishans.”

  “Yes,” he said, rising. “I have.”

  Once the order was given, things went fast. It was a relief for all concerned to finally be doing something to put an end to the disease rather than just temporarily patching a few symptoms.

  The dampers went up all over the shuttlebay, their featureless ebony surfaces transforming it into a massive silver-black grid.

  The Ellingtonwas scoured from top to bottom by Ra-Havreii’s engineers, who replaced any circuit or chip that showed the slightest defect or wear.

  The mission specialists were vetted and chosen-Vale as field commander, Ranul Keru as her second, Xin Ra-Havreii, who, in his capacity as warp specialist extraordinaire, insisted on joining the team, and of course Jaza. The wild card was Y’lira Modan, whose presence both Troi and Jaza deemed necessary but whose inexperience made Vale nervous. Modan was a bookworm and hadn’t pulled more than the obligatory field time necessary to fulfill grade requirements. Weak link.

  “I’ll need her to help with any translation issues,” Troi had told her. “The universal translator can’t handle everything.”

  It was obvious early on that Troi assumed she was to be part of the team, which led to a minor dustup between her and the captain. He wanted her on Titan;something about her being needed more there than leading the away mission-something that, frankly, seemed a bit thin to Vale-but Troi would have none of it.

  “I’m the diplomatic officer, Will,” Troi reminded Riker. “We have no clear idea what we’ll find there or how receptive the Orishans will be to our arrival. There is no one else as qualified to navigate potential trouble than me, and you know it.”

  The captain wasn’t happy about it and grew visibly less so when his XO sided with his wife.

  “You said it yourself,” said Vale. “We have to do this right. We may only get one shot.”

  She wasright. Theywere right, and the captain, realizing it, conceded the point.

  “We’re ready, sir,” said Olivia Bolaji, emerging from the Ellingtonstill wearing the same aura of unhappiness that she had during the entire exercise. “But I still think it’s a mistake not to have an experienced pilot at the helm.”

  “I am an experienced pilot,” said Jaza, coming down from the open hatchway behind her. “But, in this case, the computer will be doing the driving.”

  “I’d just be happier if I was with you, sir,” said Bolaji. “Instead of just dropping in navigation algorithms for the autopilot.”

  “We’ll be fine,” said Jaza, grinning as if he knew something she didn’t.

  Y’lira Modan strapped herself into one of the two remaining jump seats, then waited while Ranul Keru checked her work. Despite the slight tremor in her voice, her face was a mask of calm. In fact, Modan herself still resembled nothing so much as an animated metal sculpture. If not for the occasional blink and the blue-on-black uniform, like all Seleneans, Modan looked as if she’d been hammered out of gold.

  “You’re good to go, Ensign,” said Keru, dropping down into his own seat and buckling in.

  “Wonderful,” said Modan, her slender fingers fidgeting with her equipment bag. “The next time I get an inspiration, will one of you remind me to tell my department head instead of the captain?”

  “Learn to love the chain of command,” said Keru with a twinkle.

  “I thought your people were pragmatists, Modan,” said Jaza jauntily from the forward part of the cabin. It was his fourth time checking over the flight plan and computer commands. “That sounds an awful lot like worry.”

  “Different crиches cultivate different traits, Najem,” said Modan, her voice firm again. “The Y’lira crиche was bred for curiosity, analysis, and flexibility of thought. I guess that means I can worry.”

   “Najem,” huh?thought Vale. Didn’t realize things had got that far with them. She had finished securing her own gear and safety harness and was accounting for the weapons and isolation suits with Keru.

  While, in theory, this was a simple diplomatic mission, in her experience, going in with intel as spotty as what they currently had on the Orishans could lead to some potentially fatal misunderstandings.

  In addition to the obligatory analysis and translation gear, she’d packed the team a brace of phasers, doubled up on the holographic isolation suits “just in case” and added a second quantum beacon on the off chance that the first might be somehow fatally compromised. Indeed, Keru himself was part of Vale’s own emergency kit; the big Trill was one of the best close-quarters fighters on the ship. She wasn’t sure she actually expected trouble from the Orishans, but if they brought some, having Keru along to help shut it down was more comforting than all those phasers.

  “Anyway,” said Keru, checking off the final inventory item and looking up. He gave Modan a warm smile from behind his thick mustache. “A little worry is healthy. Lets the universe know you have respect for it.”

  “Just remember your job and follow orders, Ensign,” said Vale. “You’ll be fine.”

  “We’ll all be fine,” said Jaza, dropping into the jump seat beside Modan’s. Despite the danger of what they were about to attempt and the larger consequences should any part of the attempt fail, the Bajoran scientist seemed almost happy. “I have no doubt about it.”

  “More wisdom from your Prophets, Mr. Jaza?” said Ra-Havreii. He’d been mostly silent as they waited for the final systems check to conclude, only humming occasionally to himself some breezy Efrosian tune.

  “Well, yes, as a matter of fact,” said Jaza, clicking the final buckle into place and checking over his own field kit. Ra-Havreii snorted derisively. Jaza ignored him. “But, in this case, we don’t have to look to the Prophets for guidance.”

  “What then?” said Modan.

  “Simple,” said Jaza. “Dr. Ra-Havreii is here with us. He wouldn’t have set foot inside this thing if he wasn’t certain he’d be coming back.”

  Everyone laughed at that, even the engineer, though it was anybody’s guess whether or not any of the apparent relief of tension was authentic.

   Troi would know, thought Vale absently as her gaze strayed from the members of her team to the view of the hangar beyond the forward canopy. The entire hangar was shrouded in light-absorbing black, the variously configured energy dampers that would, theoretically, keep the shuttle’s warp field from destroying the place.

  Here and there engineers in EVA gear scurried back and forth, securing couplings and quadruple-checking relevant systems. They seemed so small in comparison to all that black. Even the massive hangar doors, normally open to space, were currently closed, the force field that usually protected the deck from the hard vacuum having been rendered as inoperable as the rest of Titan’s energy shields.

  As she took in the enormity of what they were about to attempt, it was difficult not to feel some nervousness about this whole thing. Jaza’s plan was like a clock with a million working parts, the failure of any one of which would spell catastrophe.

  She just wished they could get on with it. The longer they sat, the more time frayed nerves would have to fail altogether. Keru and Jaza were rock steady, of course, but she was less confident about Modan and Ra-Havreii. Living and working among even Titan’s diverse crew was one thing. The shared ethos of all present went a long way to smoothing otherwise rough edges and apparent inconsistencies. Putting their feet, unannounced, on alien dirt was another matter entirely. Still, between herself and the other veterans, there shouldn’t be too much trouble from the rookies.

  Just as Vale was wondering what the hell was keeping Troi, she appeared, followed closely by the captain. Both looked grim and said little beyond that conversation made necessary by their duties and positions.

  Well. At least they’d get the breathing space that Dr. Huilan had claimed was necessary. Take purchase where you find it, as her mother used to say.

  She could see they had been at it again, whatever it was, and it, whatever it was, had taken its toll on both of them. To the casual observer there was no trace of their secret conflict, but to Vale, the signs had become abundantly clear.

  The tension in the captain’s jaw, the steely focus of his eyes, the counselor’s mask of placidity painting a false veneer over the emotions roiling beneath. Once again, as Troi took her place in the last empty jump seat, Vale felt a wave of melancholy wash over her, dredging up thoughts of battles she’d had with her mother over everything from what to wear to her induction ceremony for the Izar peace office to her choice to leave the family business for a life in the black.

  It wasn’t as intense as the storm that had taken her in the counselor’s suite, but it was certainly noticeable. At least it was to Vale. The others seemed totally unaware of anything beyond their conversation about the mission and their chances of completing it.

  “So. We know how this works,” said Riker, his big frame forced to stoop in order to hang there in the open hatchway. He looked like a bear trying to squeeze into a foxhole. “The big doors open, the atmosphere vents, and then the countdown begins. Ten seconds later the shuttle will accelerate to warp two for just under three nanoseconds. About a minute after that you’ll be in striking distance of Orisha and, hopefully, close enough to beam through the distortion.”

  “That’s provided we make it out of the shuttlebay,” said Modan, but only to herself.

  “Yes, Ensign,” said Ra-Havreii, having heard her. “Provided that. You see, a warp bubble-”

  “No speech here, folks,” said Riker, cutting the engineer off before he could build up a head of steam. “You all know your jobs. You know what’s at stake. Get it done and get back here as soon as you can.” His personal good-bye to his wife was something in the eyes. There was always something crackling between them that way, and now, despite their obvious troubles, it bound them still. What was the Betazoid word they used to describe that connection? Imzadi?

  As he backed out of the hatch, Riker’s eyes conveyed to Vale her own silent communication. Bring them back, Chris. It might not have been the same sort of empathic contact he enjoyed with Troi, but Vale got the message.

  Then he was gone, and there was nothing left but the sounds of the hatch sealing shut behind him and the evenly modulated tones of the computer beginning its launch prep.

   “ShuttlecraftEllington ready for launch,”said the artificial female voice. “All personnel please clear the flight deck.”

  The EVA suits scrambled for the nearest exits, and soon the hangar was empty. For a few moments nothing stirred in the black and silver expanse, but then, almost imperceptibly at first, the enormous doors at the far end began to separate.

  Vale was a little surprised to see the twinkles and black of normal space peeking in through the widening aperture. From all the trouble caused by these pulses and their aftereffect, she’d expected something more dramatic.

   “Shuttlebay doors open,”said the computer. “Force shield protections offline. Atmosphere venting. Twenty-four seconds to shuttle launch. Twenty-two.”

  As if anyone needed to be told. The outgassing was like a raging torrent outside the Ellington, the noise and violence of the air flow eliciting a nervous hiss from Y’lira Modan and a few words of comfort in her ear from Troi.

  “This is the worst part, Ensign,” she said in what Vale guessed was the voice she usually reserved for agitated patients. “In a few seconds it’ll all be over.”

  “I’m not sure that’s the best choice of words, Commander,” said Modan, but she smiled. Keru and Jaza both managed chuckles before they were given another update, this time from the Ellingtonitself.

   “Initializing warp core,”said the second voice, in tones identical to that of Titan’s own. “Safety protocols LII through QI, disabled. Modified flight control program initiating. Away team, secure for warp three in six seconds. Five seconds. Four seconds. Three seconds. Two seconds. One-”

  The final syllables were lost in the shattering of reality all around the little vessel. While the shuttle itself only shuddered a bit, for a portion of a moment that was nearly too brief to perceive, the shuttlebay around it and the field of stars outside fused into a single kaleidoscopic whole.

  It was nothing like going to warp under normal circumstances. There was no streaming of stars, no sense of nondirectional acceleration. There was, for some of the team, only the momentary feeling of having neither weight nor mass, but it too was gone almost too quickly for their minds to process.

  There was the fraction of a blinding flash, an instant of the warp drive whining under the strain of initialization and then, as abruptly as it had come, the moment was gone and so was the shuttlebay.

  It took a second for Vale to realize the odd, high-pitched keening sound was coming from one of her teammates rather than the ship’s warning system.

  When the Ellingtonslammed back into normal space, it did so almost as violently as Titanhad when it entered the Elysia Incendae system. Though pretty much everything was secured, including the team, several items-a loose padd, an unaccounted-for bag of clothing, and what looked like a forgotten sonic screwdriver-bounced around the shuttle like ball bearings fired into a zero-g omnasium.

  The keening came from Y’lira Modan: some form of scream or other expression of distress, Vale surmised. She was the rookie here, and the surprise of reentry had shaken her spindly resolve. One of the flying objects had smacked into her golden metallic face.

  Before Vale could do it herself, Jaza reached out a hand to Modan, quietly comforting her, reminding her that she and the rest of them were still alive, things were proceeding as they should.

  “Take a breath, Modan,” he said softly, watching as she pulled herself together. She glanced around at the rest of the team, all sitting stoic in the face of the jolt. Even Ra-Havreii seemed totally unflapped. “See? We’re okay.”

   “Warning,”said the computer. “Warp core offline. Artificial gravity and inertial dampers fatally compromised.”

  “We expected that,” said Jaza, noting Modan’s renewed distress. It was odd seeing someone who looked like a gold statue bend and twist like ordinary flesh. He made a mental note to study up on Selenean physiology when they got back to Titan.

   “Artificial gravity and inertial dampers online,”said the computer just as the team were feeling their stomachs again. “Firing breaking thrusters.”

  As the gravity took hold, Modan relaxed by degrees until she was apparently her old self again. With the exception of Ra-Havreii, who continued to softly hum away, the team sat in silence for the few moments it took the deceleration sequences to play out.

  When the computer announced that they would drift for a few minutes before repositioning for their approach to Orisha, Jaza was unbuckled and up almost instantly. It was as if he were a sprinter and had been waiting for the sound of the starter pistol.

  “Jaza,” said Vale. “What the hell?”

  “Come up and see,” he said, disappearing from view as he slid down into the forward pilot’s cradle.

  Shooting Keru a quizzical look and getting the expected shrug in response, Vale unbuckled quickly and joined Jaza, dropping down beside him in the navigator’s cradle. Unlike the smaller-type 1’s, the Ellingtonwas built for short-distance system hops. In a pinch it could function like a very small runabout. Vale had hoped for a more peaceful situation in which to shake the shuttles down, but she knew she could play only those cards she’d been dealt.

  She looked over at the brown-skinned Bajoran in the pilot’s seat, watching his hands tapping commands into the computer.

   He’s taking readings, she thought. How optimistic can someone be? We’ve got a thirty-seventy chance of pulling this off, at best, and he’s got to know it.

  Yet, despite the danger and the ongoing potential for complete ruin, Jaza was excited. You didn’t have to know him well to see it. His eyes had that familiar wide intensity; just above the ridges of his nose his brow was furrowed ever so slightly; his mouth was just on the verge of a smile. More than excited, he was actually happy.

  “I love this,” he said quietly. When she raised an eyebrow, he pointed. “Take a look.”

  Ahead of them, beyond the plexi observation window, a smallish vermillion and white orb hung against the black: the planet Orisha.

  “We’ve been in space for centuries, you know,” he said, looking out at it. It did seem to Vale like a large and beautiful gemstone now that she could see it up close. Pretty. “Bajorans made it all the way to Cardassia Prime in ships as small as sailboats.”

  “Amazing,” she said, crediting the words as the product of local folklore. She didn’t know much about Bajor’s history, but that seemed far-fetched.

  “But I never got offworld until after the occupation was over,” he said. “Now, every time I get the chance to see a new planet this way, hanging in the dark, glowing like one of the Orbs, I take it. Makes me feel closer to the Prophets somehow.”

  Behind them in the cabin the others had fallen into conversation related to what would be expected of them once the shuttle touched down. Troi and Keru switched off taking Modan through quick refreshers on emergency med protocols, diplomatic procedures during First Contacts and what not to do if being chased by a pack of angry twelve-meter-long crustaceans. Vale knew they were doing it mostly to keep the ensign calm and it seemed to be working.

  Ra-Havreii, damn him, continued to hum that irritating tune.

  It wasn’t that the song itself was unpleasant-quite the contrary, in fact. The melody hovered somewhere between a human symphony and the musical language of primitives on Liuvani Prime. The engineer’s low tenor wasn’t objectionable. It was just the relentlessness of the thing. Whenever he wasn’t engaged in necessary conversation, within minutes Ra-Havreii was back to his tune, playing with it in his mouth the way a kitten might with a ball of string. It was maddening.

  She was just about to tell him to belay the noise when Jaza said, “Ra-Havreii, I need you.”

  His tone snapped her gaze away from the slowly rotating planet far ahead and back to him. He wasn’t smiling, and his brow was now deeply creased with concern. Deep vertical furrows were leading to the horizontal ones on his nose.

  “What is it?” she said. He muttered something, obviously believing he’d responded aloud, but he was too concerned with the sensor controls to correct himself. “Jaza?”

  Ra-Havreii, no longer playing with his tune, suddenly occupied the space between the two flight cradles. He looked down at the HUDs, out through the forward plexi and then back at the readouts. He face was a mirror for Jaza’s.

  “Any idea?” said Jaza.

  “None,” said the engineer.

  “But you can see it,” said Jaza.

  “See what?” said Vale, squinting into the black. As far as she could tell, there was nothing there but the orb of the planet and the star-filled inky carpet behind.

  “Only vaguely,” said Ra-Havreii, pensive. “An afterimage? A reflection of some sort?”

  “I see it clearly,” said Jaza. “It’s neither.”

  “What is it?” said Vale, still completely failing to notice anything unusual.

  “Some kind of energy mass, Chris,” said Jaza, his fingers tapping new commands into the sensors as he spoke. “Vaguely spherical, very large, about…fifteen degrees behind the planet, moving in the same solar orbital path.”

  “Why can’t I see it?” she said.

  Jaza shrugged and said, “IDIC.” She understood. Humanoids all shared a great many surface characteristics, but despite the visual similarities, Trill were not human, who were not Bajoran, who were not Betazoid or Selenean or Efrosian. All were similar but not truly identical. Obviously, in this case, Bajoran and Efrosian vision encompassed a slightly wider spectrum than the others on board.

  By now Troi, Modan, and Keru had moved in behind Ra-Havreii, all squinting to see for themselves and failing. Most of the ship’s sensors failed to see the thing as well, which was a little disconcerting.

  Only those set to look for minute boryon distortions could detect anything at all, and that only barely. The mass was a very large ghost.

  “I think we ought to fire a probe into it,” said Jaza at last.

  “Is that wise?” said Modan. “Perhaps it is some sort of defensive device.”

  “You wouldn’t say that if you could see it, Modan,” said Jaza. “It’s huge. Slightly bigger than Orisha, in fact. And it’s between us and the planet.”

  “Any chance we can sidestep it?” said Keru.

  Jaza shook his head. “Our course is preset and the sensors only evade what they can see. We’re going to pass through it, whatever it is.” Jaza looked to Vale as if to say, “What’s it going to be, Chris?” For her part, Vale glanced back at Troi, whose features betrayed some tension but not overt concern, not yet. In any case, until some actual diplomacy got going, Vale was running this show.

  “Launch a probe,” she said at last. “If we’re going through, I’d like a little warning about what to expect.”

  Jaza’s fingers danced for a few seconds. They all heard the noise of the torpedo launcher and then watched the tiny silver probe zip toward the unseen mass.

  “There’s some distortion in the signal,” said Jaza, muttering over the display as the sensor data came back. “But it’s not detecting anything un-”

  Before he could finish the sentence, several things happened at once, ensuring that it would never be completed. The probe crossed over the arbitrary point he’d set as the strange formation’s event horizon and vanished from his screens.