Enigma Ship by J. York (small books to read .TXT) 📕

“Like, say, by running into one,” added Duffy.

“So what we need, sir, is the missing link between the magnetic probe and shields. That we don’t find in the books.”

Scotty considered the problem, idly stroking his mustache with a fingertip as he did. “Tell me, did you ever hear of the Nelscott flip?”

Gomez blinked. “Sir?”

“When I was on the asteroid freight run at Deneva, the lads there pulled a wee trick on me. They used a magnetic probe to invert the phase of the gravity generator under my cabin.”

Duffy chuckled.

“Aye,” said Scott, “it plastered me to the ceiling until they switched it back again. Some engineer named Nelscott stumbled on the trick, and they pulled it on every new officer aboard.”

“That makes sense,” said Duffy. “You can’t have shields without gravitron generation, and if you flip the phase, the local fields would repel each other, creating our doorway. We’ve got the ‘can opener’ we were looking for, and now we have a pretty good idea how it works.”

Gomez nodded. “Thank you, Captain. We couldn’t have figured it out without you.”

“Any time, lass. Anything else I can do, let me know. Also, since this concerns holograms, there’s a lad you might want to look up. Top man in the field, or so they tell me.”

“Broccoli!” Duffy said suddenly.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You mean Reg Barclay, right?”

“Aye, that’s the one. He’s at Project Voyager on Jupiter Station.”

Gomez smiled. “We served with him on the Enterprise, Captain. He’s actually quite a skilled diagnostic engineer—holography’s just what he, ah, established his reputation with. We’ll definitely get in touch with him, though.”

“Meanwhile,” said Scotty with a dramatic sigh, “I’m due in another blasted meeting. Admirals.” His image flickered out, to be replaced by the Starfleet logo.

Duffy shook his head. “Haven’t talked to old Broccoli in years. Been meaning to get in touch with him ever since he tracked Voyager down in the Delta Quadrant.”

“If I remember correctly,” Gomez said with a smile, “Captain Picard gave a cease-and-desist order on that nickname.”

Laughing, Duffy said, “Like that was gonna stop me. C’mon, let’s put a call in to Jupiter Station. Fabe should talk to him, too. He may have some ideas how to see inside that holographic shell.” He sighed. “Which would help us on our biggest unknown on a list of many. Our can opener should get us in, and in theory, out as well. So if our freighter pilot had the same can opener too, why did he go in, and never come out?”

*     *     *

Abramowitz sat at her cabin’s small workstation, reviewing reports from the other Enigma teams. It seemed as though everyone was making progress but her. The latest development was from Stevens, who, thanks to his consultation with holographic expert Reginald Barclay, thought he had a way of scanning Enigma for life signs. The technique didn’t promise a great deal of accuracy or detail, but it might tell them something about what they were dealing with.

She pushed her chair back, and stared at Stevens’s report glumly. Just good enough to prove me wrong.

A movement in the corner of her eye made her look up at her cabin’s open door. She liked working with the door open, a habit she’d developed as a student. Dr. Lense stood in the corridor just outside. Abramowitz could see her lips moving. Lense was clearly unaware Abramowitz couldn’t hear her.

Abramowitz waved her inside. Lense looked puzzled, stepped through the door, and immediately jammed her index fingers into her ears.

“Sorry,” said Abramowitz, raising her voice to be heard over the music. “Computer, mute audio!” She hadn’t even been conscious of the music until it was gone. “There’s an audio damping field across the door. Ensign Conlon rigged it up. Probably something to do with her cabin being across the hall.”

Lense glanced at the door. “Imagine that.” She shook her head as though clearing her ears. “Was that drad music?”

“Nausicaan tusk opera. It doesn’t sound a thing like drad music.”

“Sorry, I’m not a connoisseur of pain. It’s all pretty much ‘ouch’ to me.” She took a deep breath, and shifted nervously from one foot to another. “Look, this isn’t starting out well. I just wanted to—and don’t get used to this, because I don’t plan to make it a habit—but I wanted to apologize, both for walking out on you earlier, and for being less than helpful on this assignment.”

Abramowitz shrugged. “You’ve got other work. I assumed you were getting sickbay ready for possible casualties.”

Lense shook her head. “Not that much to do really, until we know more. I’ve got Wetzel, Copper, and Emmett,” the last being the ship’s Emergency Medical Hologram, “replicating and stockpiling extra medical supplies, but they’re more than capable of handling it.”

She glanced at the nestlike pod where Abramowitz’s roommate, P8 Blue, slept. The cabin was small, like all the others on da Vinci, and the alien pod made it feel even more cramped. Without waiting for an invitation, Lense sat down on the bunk. “Fact is, I saw things during the Dominion War that nobody should ever see. I thought I had gotten over it, and in a way, I have. I’m ready to handle the obvious nightmares lurking out there: the wreckage, the casualties, the bodies beyond help, the scattered remains that don’t even resemble bodies any more. All that I’m ready for. I can take it. What I can’t take is the nervous laughter of people about to brush shoulders with death.”

Abramowitz turned to face her. It never occurred to her that the doctor would feel that way—especially after how she handled herself on Sherman’s Planet. “I didn’t mean—”

Lense waved her off. “You didn’t do anything. It’s me. Maybe one day you’ll understand, but for your sake, I hope you never do.”

They were quiet for a while. Then Lense raised her chin and looked up at Abramowitz. “I’ve been thinking about our question, and I think you’re right. This thing is artificial. A probe, a ship, a robot, something like that.