"I see." I smooth my whiskers, thinking. "We did get another radiation pulse, directed through a subspace rift at the anomaly. It fits, I suppose."
"You are the scientist, sir. If you can work out what these pulses are doing, you might also learn how many more there must be - and perhaps where they will come from. If we knew that, we could anticipate our quarry's movements."
"Yes, that makes sense." I think some more. "Each pulse seems to - awaken, I guess is the best word - a new range of radiation frequencies from the anomaly. There are gaps in the spectrum... that doesn't tell us a lot, because the incoming radiation doesn't match up with the output emissions. But the shape of the anomaly might tell us something - the next pulse might have to come from a specific direction...." Possibilities are starting to take shape inside my head. "Yes. I'll get the subspace physics teams to work on this - we might be able to rough out a set of incoming vectors."
"If I can reconcile that with the known flight path of the Beauregard to date," says Surella, "it could be a big help. Thank you, sir." She pauses. "I have a feeling that we need to get to them before an Orion task force does. The Orion Houses who had interests in the Rikilsa Array are... unhappy."
My tail twitches in annoyance. "Better to do something, then, or the Symbiosis Commission will be on our backs - not that they've been any actual help over this Captain Quon -"
"She is a joined Trill," says Surella. "The symbiotes make friends, over their centuries of life. They - network. Captain Quon can probably call in favours over half the quadrant. The problem is, with the Orions in their current mood, she may need to, soon."
"I don't doubt it. All right, Captain. Carry on the search. I'll work up the data we have, and transmit those possible vectors as soon as we've got them. Be aware, the list's going to be pretty provisional...."
"I will gladly take whatever you can give me, sir. Amphicyon out."
And her image disappears, replaced by the shining thing that is GO4704, now. "I'd love to know what that Trill is up to, myself," I remark.
"I have some background data," says Pearl. "It's not easy to come by - the Symbiosis Commission is very tight-lipped - but the Quon symbiote has something of a history as a scientist, itself. The current host, though, seems to be quite recent, and quite different - high ratings for physicality, reflexes, general health. An athlete."
"You didn't get that from official sources," I say.
"No, sir. I've been digging. I think the Quon symbiote's found itself in a young, superbly fit body, and that's... well, gone to its head. Or would, if symbiotes had heads. If you see what I mean, sir."
"Interesting idea. But it still doesn't tell us what she's up to. Can you get any publication history for the Quon symbiote? I'd like to get some idea how its mind works - how its half of the mind works, at least."
"Should be easy enough, sir." The android turns her attention back to her data console.
And I turn mine back to the main status display. We haven't been idle. A swarm of specialised probes is now orbiting GO4704, scanning every frequency, measuring and indexing and classifying - not a single thing can happen in several million cubic kilometres of space without it being recorded and analysed by us. Including any subspace rifts that form - we should, in theory, get enough advance warning to be able to evade any dangerous energy surges, although with a ship the size of the Madagascar, I'm not keen to find out the hard way -
My whiskers twitch again. "Is that something at max sensor range?" I ask.
"Checking now, sir," Sumal Jetuz says promptly from the main science console. He looks at a screen, and frowns. "Sensor contact - confirmed. Looks like... subspace bow shock from a warp field. Confirmed." He turns to me. "That's a ship, sir, coming out of warp on an approach vector for the anomaly."
"Identify them. And transmit a standard navigation-hazard warning." Sightseers? The last thing we want is a shipload of gawkers getting caught in a subspace rift....
"Sir." Marya Kothe is on the tac console. "I'm getting a standard Federation transponder code. Civilian science vessel, SS Andrew Carnegie. Registered to -" She looks surprised. "Private owner, Adrian Vansittaert."
"Vansittaert?" I frown. "I think I've heard that name, somewhere."
"I wouldn't be surprised, sir." Pearl is still working the data library, and of course she can multi-task faster than anything organic. "CEO, founder and owner of VCE Industries - Vansittaert Computing Equipment - one of the largest private concerns in the Federation. They've been very active, lately, helping rebuild the Federation data nets after the various - conflicts. Vansittaert himself is a computer and holographics expert, and a contributor to a number of Federation political groups."
"What sort of political groups?"
"Socially and technologically progressive, including some of the mainstream transhumanist parties. He's an honorary fellow of the Soong Foundation, among other things. I'm getting specs on his personal vessel now -"
"We can get a visual on it, for that matter," says Marya.
"On screen," I order. And then I whistle.
The Andrew Carnegie's forward section is an elliptical saucer, like that of a Galaxy-class, but about twice the size, if I'm reading the scale right. A massive deflector dish is suspended from a pylon below, a smaller secondary deflector is recessed into the leading edge of the saucer. A secondary hull extends behind the saucer, a long solid bloc that bulges out in the middle into what I realize, after a moment, is the complete hull of a Risian cruise liner. At the rear, the secondary hull bulges out again, into a blocky engineering section supporting eight warp nacelles on heavy-duty pylons. The whole thing is something like three kilometres long. "Some private vessel," I comment.
"It might be more than it seems, sir," says Pearl. "The exact specifications aren't publicly available, but Vansittaert has a CCPAW." I shoot her an inquiring look. "Critical Civilian Personnel Armaments Waiver. Introduced during the Klingon war, so people like him could have enough weapons on hand to fight off privateers - he's legally entitled to equip and use military-standard armament. That ship might have more firepower than the average Starfleet dreadnought."
"That's consistent with what I'm reading," says Marya. "No weapons showing active, but shields and deflectors... some way above advanced MACO standard. I don't think they've got much to worry about from subspace rifts, at least." She puts a hand to her earpiece. "We're being hailed."
"On screen."
The long, bony face that appears on the viewer is vaguely familiar, from news broadcasts or something like that - I don't follow the workings of the Federation's private sector, but I think Vansittaert might be big enough that it's impossible not to see his face from time to time. Now, a slightly uncomfortable smile is spreading over the lower part of that face. "Admiral M'eioi. This is Adrian Vansittaert, aboard the research vessel Andrew Carnegie, requesting your assistance with regard to the anomaly known as Galactic Object 4704."
"This is M'eioi, aboard the Madagascar. You're very well informed, sir."
Now he laughs, and that sounds uncomfortable, too. "I do like to know who I'm dealing with, Admiral. And I like to think I have a good working relationship with Science Division."
"Good enough, sir, for me to have to warn you that GO4704's behaviour is unpredictable and potentially dangerous. As Starfleet personnel, we're supposed to take the risks so that civilians like yourself are protected, sir."
"Oh, of course, I see your point, Admiral. But I think you'll find the Carnegie is equal to most situations. And I'm sure you'll see the advantages that our presence affords you. I have some of the most advanced scientific equipment in the Federation aboard this ship, not to mention a contingent of scientists who are just itching to meet you and compare notes. I gather your own background is in high-energy subspace physics?"
"Mostly. Though science officers are required to be generalists, in any case. Might I ask, sir, what brings you and your team to this particular anomaly?"
"That is a long and involved story, Admiral, and I'd appreciate the chance to tell it to you in person. If you and your senior staff would care to be my guests aboard the Carnegie, perhaps in, say, an hour? We can have a full and frank discussion, about what we already know, and all the things that I and my team can do for you." His mouth twitches, the uncomfortable smile growing broader. "You see, Admiral, we think we know what this anomaly is. And we think we can use it to bring a new golden age to the Federation, and to the galaxy as a whole."
No comments:
Post a Comment