Myriad Universes_ Echoes And Refractions Part 44

12.

Isaac watched Data's expression as Picard outlined his proposal, but it was Lore who was the first to respond.

"No!" Lore raged. "It's out of the question! Would you give such a powerful tool to such ignorant, bloodthirsty organic savages?!"

Lal, for her part, wore a worried expression. "It does seem a risky proposition."

Data, though, was still thoughtful. "Wesley, are you certain that your findings are accurate?"

Crusher didn't hesitate a moment before answering. "Absolutely." He handed Data the tricorder for his inspection. "We've managed to isolate the fundamental principles behind the gateways. And I'm confident that, using the original as a guide"he gestured toward the control console"we could construct another functional model without too much trouble."

The other members of the away team could not "hear" it, but over the subs.p.a.ce communications network of Turing, Isaac could hear the debate beginning to rage as the populace learned of the captain's suggestion.

"Brother," Lore said in disbelief, "don't tell me that you're actually considering this nonsense."

"It does present an interesting solution to our present dilemma." While Data spoke aloud for the benefit of the organics in the control chamber, he conversed at a much higher bit rate over the subs.p.a.ce network.

"But, Father," Lal said, "would that not be handing away our only advantage in this circ.u.mstance?"

"On Earth," Picard put in, "in the middle of the twentieth century, shortly after nuclear fission was perfected and weaponized, there was considerable concern that one nation-state or another might employ atomic bombs against their neighbors. It was a very real possibility, and a justifiable anxiety. But a solution was quickly hit upon, a kind of deterrence in which all sides shared the capability to inflict equal amounts of damage on the others. It was called 'mutually a.s.sured destruction,' and ensured that no government would authorize the use of nuclear weapons for fear that their enemies would use them in return."

"And this is your grand peaceful solution, human?" Lore sneered. "Rather than keeping the gateways for our own use and protection, you'd have us simply give them away to anyone who asked, Romulans, Klingons, Carda.s.sians, all of them?!"

"It is a reasonable approach," Data allowed.

Lieutenant Crusher stood at Isaac's side, and nodded, his smile indicating the regard in which he held the captain's suggestion. "Lateral thinking."

"But, Father," Lal objected, "the Romulans' past history shows that they can hardly be trusted with such levels of technology. Look at the example of their unmanned wardrones and their android shock troopers, artificial sentients shackled and enslaved by the overly prohibitive dictates of their programming."

"But don't you see, Lal?" La Forge put in. "You can make it a condition of the deal. If the other powers want the Iconian gateways, you can require them to provide a.s.surance that they will not purse positronic technology to create android slaves, but must recognize the sentience of artificial life."

"For that matter," Sito suggested, "when you offer it to the Federation you can require them to lift the restrictions on the creation of new artificial life. Then androids won't be second-cla.s.s citizens anymore."

Data nodded slowly, deep in thought. "If every power has gateway technology, then none would be tempted to use it aggressively against their enemies, for fear that their enemies would return the attack in kind."

"And the openness engendered by unrestricted gateway travel," Lal added, "will ensure that the powers can monitor one another, and ensure that they develop their own strains of artificial life responsibly, with the rights of that life protected."

Isaac spoke up, a thought occurring to him. "In fact, you and the rest of the Turing population would be free to explore the Retrogressionist position, returning to the Federation if you wished, free to create offspring with the same liberty that humans enjoy to create new life."

La Forge reached over and placed a hand on Data's shoulder. "Right! Data, you all could come home again."

Data met La Forge's silvery eyes and smiled. "It would be nice, my friend. Living here isolated from those I care about has been difficult. I have often had cause to regret the way in which things were left, and the necessity for secrecy. If androids were given full enfranchis.e.m.e.nt, and we could return and live openly"he glanced at Lal, and then back to La Forge"that would be most gratifying."

"No," Lore said, his tone suggesting he would brook no further discussion. "It's out of the question."

But Isaac knew that, whatever Lore insisted, the debate was raging, as the populace communicated impossibly fast over the subs.p.a.ce network, attempting to reach consensus.

Ro Laren sat forward in the captain's chair, watching the green bulk of the warbird glide across the forward viewscreen. The Haakona's hull had been scored in places by phaser fire and torpedo bursts, but while her shields were weakened, they still held.

The Enterprise, Ro knew, was little better off.

"Shields at fifteen percent," Ensign Thomas reported.

"We can't take much more of this," Doctor Quaice said. His artificial body was designed to adapt to a wide variety of environmental factors, but he looked as though he'd be sweating if he could.

"Come about, Lieutenant," Ro ordered Sam Lavelle. "Keep them on their toes."

Quaice was right, though. If the captain didn't come up with some solution, and soon, one or the other of the ships would take too much damage to sustain, and Ro didn't like to think about what that meant for the Federation. War with the Romulan-Klingon Alliance seemed the most likely outcome, whichever way things went. Two ships exchanging fire in the Neutral Zone was one thing, but one ship destroying another was quite a different matter.

"Stand down, Commander," came a voice from behind her. "I'll take the conn."

Ro jumped to her feet, and turned to see Geordi La Forge standing on the other side of the railing. Behind him a doorway shimmered in midair, with a stone-walled room visible beyond. While Ro watched, Sito Jaxa stepped through, and casually walked over to the ops station.

"I've got this," Sito said to the ensign at ops, and her hands flew over the controls.

"Decided to come into work today, have you?" Ro asked with a slight smile.

The illumination level on the bridge brightened, as the lights and alarms indicating a state of red alert ceased. Shields were still raised, but the ship was now at condition green.

"Standing by, Commander," Sito said, looking up from the controls.

La Forge had come around the railing to the captain's chair, a faint smile on his lips. "Sorry to leave you hanging up here, Ro, but you certainly got the job done."

"I just had to draw their fire off your backs, is all."

"And thank you for that," Sito effused, glancing up. "If we end up going to Bajor, Ro, the raktajinos are on me."

"I just might take you up on that," Ro said, grinning. Then her grin faded as she glanced anxiously at the warbird, which now hovered at the center of the viewscreen. "But what about the Haakona?"

La Forge's smile widened. "Don't worry about them. The captain's arranged for an offer they won't be able to refuse."

Crusher stood next to Lal, shuffling his feet as the hairless android prepared to open the next gateway. With La Forge and Sito safely back on the Enterprise, they were ready to put the next part of Picard's plan into effect.

So much hinged on Crusher's ability to explain the gateway science in a way that the Romulans could understand. Could he do it? Was it possible for him to couch the seemingly impossible physics in terms everyone else could grasp?

He realized that he was twitching, nervously, his hands tapping against his thighs. Then, to his surprise, he felt a soft, warm hand slip into his own, fingers threading through his.

He looked over to see Lal smiling up at him. "It is my understanding, Wesley, that humans often derive comfort in tense situations from touch, and in particular from the practice of holding another's hand." She glanced down at their hands, held tightly together. "I hope I have not given offense by employing such a tactic, but it occurs to me that you could likely use calming in these circ.u.mstances."

"Oh, you mean waltzing into the midst of a bunch of Romulans who'd probably sooner shoot us than listen to anything I've got to say?" He smiled. "You're right. And thanks."

"My friends," Picard said, calling over his shoulder as the gateway materialized, "this is our chance to set things right."

Crusher caught Data looking his way, a strange smile on his face.

On the bridge of the warbird, the subcommander and her officers reacted with a mixture of shock, anger, and fear to the sudden appearance of the shimmering gateway in their midst. Disruptors were drawn and ready before Picard even stepped through. He'd insisted on going first, though, hoping that the sudden arrival of a Starfleet officer on the bridge would at least raise enough questions to give the subcommander pause, instead of opting for shooting first and asking questions later, if ever.

His gamble was accurate, but still that didn't make him any more sanguine about staring down the barrels of a half dozen Romulan disruptors.

"Wh-what is the meaning of this?!" Subcommander Taris sputtered, almost unable to contain her surprise.

Behind Picard came Data, then Lore, Isaac, and finally Lal and Wesley Crusher. The gateway remained open, a door-shaped opening in midair connecting the warbird's bridge with the hidden chamber in the city far below.

"I hope you'll forgive the intrusion, Subcommander," Picard said with a smile. "I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise." He glanced at the others behind him. "This is my chief engineer, Crusher; Turing resident Lal; and I believe you know Data, Lore, and my chief science officer, A. Isaac."

Subcommander Taris's eyes widened, fractionally, but to her credit she maintained her composure. "I am impressed, Picard." She glanced at the officer to her side. "Centurion, find the crewman responsible for monitoring the prisoners in the cellblock, and place him in custody, to await court-martial."

"I hope you wouldn't," Picard said, gently. "Your crew could no more be expected to antic.i.p.ate this gateway technology"he gestured over his shoulder at the shimmering door"than you yourself did just a moment ago. And no more than I myself did a short while ago when Data here appeared on the bridge of my own ship." He glanced at Data, and nodded. "But my crewman Mister Crusher has made some interesting discoveries about the gateways, and it is precisely those discoveries that Data wishes to discuss, among other matters."

Data stepped forward, standing before the subcommander.

"Tell me, Subcommander Taris, have you ever heard of the Iconians?"

Epilogue.

It was late afternoon, the sun dipping toward the western horizon, as tropical birds called their high, trilling songs from the treetops. The artificial planetoid was little more than a way station, set up here at the far side of the Gamma Quadrant, thousands upon thousands of light-years from Earth. The reach of the gateways was immense, but it was not infinite, and so travel from one edge of the Milky Way to the other was possible only by the introduction of gateway hubs every few thousand light-years. Some were positioned on planets, some on moons, still others in orbital habitats, but in some cases little pocket worlds were created. This planetoid incorporated gravity generators beneath the surface, giving it a gravitational attraction several times that which its ma.s.s would normally generate, without which an atmosphere wouldn't have been possible. It hardly mattered to most of the travelers, who scarcely needed to breathe, but it was essential for the plants and animal life that had been seeded here, and allowed for spoken conversation, instead of just subs.p.a.ce communication.

A reproduction of the Garden of Versailles expanded to cover a sphere the size of a small moon. The planetoid was not simply a gateway hub, but was a place for rest and relaxation, a perfect setting for two old friends to catch up.

"Data!" A smile spread across Picard's face as they shook hands. "How good to see you!"

"It's good to see you, as well, Jean-Luc." Data's smile was no less wide, but widened even further when he added, "Or should I say, Captain?"

"How long has it been?" Picard got a far-off look in his eyes.

"I don't think we've seen each other in more than a decade, but..."

"No," Picard interrupted, shaking his head. He ran his fingers through his full, dark hair. "I mean, how long has it been since you called me 'Captain'?"

Data's face took on a wistful look. "It's been nearly one hundred and ten years since I had any right to do so, since I was last a member of the Enterprise's crew."

"One hundred and ten...?" Picard repeated in disbelief.

"You know what they say, Jean-Luc." He grinned, and for a moment, with the white streaks he'd added to his hair, looked something like a sinister skunk. It was ironic that in an era in which death had been conquered, Data affected the signs of aging. "Time flies when you're having fun."

Picard grinned, and clapped a hand on Data's shoulder. "And just what are you doing for fun these days, Data? Last I'd heard you were helping Lal and Wesley Crusher with that experiment of theirs to create a time machine..."

Data shook his head. "They're still at it, but I expect it will be a few more decades before their work bears fruit. But no, I've been asked to serve as Federation amba.s.sador to the Dominion."

Picard nodded, impressed. There was a time when he might have worried that first contact with a previously unknown alien race might lead to hostilities. The experience of the last century had changed that. Now the Federation had grown to encompa.s.s old enemies like the Romulans and the Klingons, and had evolved to the point where it was perfectly adapted for incorporating new cultures peacefully, while at the same time ensuring that those cultures did not lose their individual ident.i.ties.

"And what of Lore?" Picard asked, gently.

It had taken long decades, but working with researchers at the Daystrom Inst.i.tute, Data had finally managed to correct the faults in his elder brother's programming, and far from being a near-insane proponent of ma.s.s murder, he was now one of the leading advocates for endangered organic species in the Federation.

"Still hard at work, as always. We visit every few weeks, regardless of where our travels take us. Family is something to be cherished, don't you think?"

Picard smiled, nodding, remembering how the extra decades granted by their extended lives in artificial bodies had helped heal the rifts with his own estranged brother.

"And you, Jean-Luc? Off to some dig or other?"

"You know me too well, old friend," Picard said with a smile. "I'm leading an archaeological expedition on a planet a few light-years from here. Bajoran artifacts millennia old have been unearthed, suggesting prehistoric contact between the Alpha and Gamma Quadrants."

"A subs.p.a.ce wormhole, perhaps?"

"That's the prevalent theory. But Data, you should see some of the treasures we've been pulling out of the ground."

Once, Picard could never have hoped ever to have heard of such a find, much less investigate it himself. At several thousand light-years away, it would have taken him the rest of his natural lifetime to reach the dig site, even at maximum warp. That was when he still had a natural lifetime, of course.

More than any other discovery since the invention of the warp drive, the gateway had changed the way that worlds interacted, and the way that people lived. Now, someone could walk from one world to another in the blink of an eye, and from one side of the galaxy to the other in a matter of minutes. And in artificial bodies, like the one Picard had worn since the death of his original body years before, travelers were confident that they could survive any injury, and in virtually any environment. The opportunities for archaeological exploration alone had opened up enormously when researchers suddenly didn't need to breathe oxygen any longer, or require atmospheric pressure or its equivalent to hold their insides in.

"But tell me about this Dominion, Data," Picard said, steering his friend toward a low bench, from which they could watch the setting sun. "I've heard what's been said about them on the subs.p.a.ce network, but haven't spoken directly with anyone who's dealt with them."

"They are...uncertain, I suppose you could say. For generations, the Dominion has been a highly regimented hierarchy, and they view with some trepidation the more egalitarian qualities of the Federation." He sat on the bench, and crossed one leg over the other. "I can't really blame them, of course. Theirs is a culture in which everyone knows their place and role, to which they are not only born, but also for which they have often been genetically engineered. Authority descends from the top, and there is no social mobility. Contrast that with the Federation and its countless species and civilizations, all instantaneously sharing new information, communicating through subs.p.a.ce networks linked by gateway relays, millions of worlds and trillions of individuals joined in a consensus linking all of their minds. The Dominion has a 'link' of their own, of sorts, but it appears to encompa.s.s only the ruling caste of shapeshifters, with all the other species of the Dominion existing in virtual slave status beneath them."

"Oh, I'm not too worried," Picard said, smiling. "The Federation has dealt with slavers and oppressors before. No matter how odious they may seem at the outset, it is simply inevitable that their behavior and att.i.tudes will change after exposure to the Federation's ideals." He laid a hand on Data's shoulder in a comradely gesture. "And I can think of no one better suited to the task of helping them through that difficult change than you."

"Change," Data repeated, wistfully. "Tell me, Jean-Luc, do you ever think back to the Prime Directive? Think of the years Starfleet spent, its actions limited by the first contact protocols. Do you ever wonder how many of the new lives and new civilizations that we encountered in our journeys might have benefited from Federation medicine or technology, or from concepts like individual freedom and liberty?"

Their conversation was interrupted by a subs.p.a.ce call from the planetoid beneath them, its immense positronic brain reminding Data that he'd asked to be alerted when the Dominion signaled that they were ready to begin discussing the terms of the treaty with the Federation.

"Thank you," Data said to the planetoid. Reluctantly, he rose to his feet, and turned to face Picard. "Jean-Luc, I'm afraid that you'll have to excuse me, but duty calls."

"Duty, Data? Or fun?"

Data grinned. "Why should there be any distinction?"

As Data moved off toward the gateway beneath the pergola, Picard walked beside him, deep in thought. "You know, running into you here, I can't help but be reminded of the way things once were, and to wonder what the future might hold. We've come so far, so quickly, and it seems inevitable that the Federation will someday expand to the farthest corners of the galaxy, with no more new worlds left to discover. At the rate we're going, it might be only a few millennia before we reach that point."

As they stopped before the gateway, Data's smile widened. "There are other galaxies out there in the night sky, Jean-Luc, as many more as there are grains of sand on all the beaches of Earth. And, after all," he added, stepping into the gateway, "the sky is the limit."

Acknowledgments/Authors' Notes THE CHIMES AT MIDNIGHT.

I absolutely wish to thank: My wife and family for their unwavering support; my colleagues at the library for giving me a place to belong; Marco Palmieri for the tremendous opportunity; Jim McCain and Alex Rosenzweig for bringing me "into the fold"; Jason Barney and the mysterious Rigel Ailur for their inspiration; Keith DeCandido, Terri Osborne, and Bob Greenberger for their professional a.s.sistance; the maintainers of Memories Alpha and Beta, along with Ian McLean's Rogue Gallery, for providing invaluable online resources; Heather Jarman for her rich Andorian worldbuilding; and Gene Roddenberry, Harve Bennett, and Nicholas Meyer, for creating this sandbox for me to play in.

A GUTTED WORLD.