Ghost of a Chance (15 page)

“If the Televek have been there for a while, they may have gained access to the shuttle’s interior by now,” Kim speculated.

“A logical concern,” Tuvok agreed.

“If they are inside our shuttle,” Janeway remarked, looking from one officer to the other, “they are just going to have to leave.”

“When will you go?” Nan Loteth asked.

Janeway took a deep breath. “Now,” she said, seeing no point in delaying their departure. She was exhausted, and she wanted nothing more than to stay here for a few days, but at that instant yet another aftershock rumbled beneath her feet, reminding her that for now, rest was not possible.

The three of them set out walking toward the edge of the village, moving out of earshot, waving goodbye.

***

Gantel ran his hands through his hair in mild exasperation.

“That is rather bad news,” he said, purposely understating the gravity of the situation as he received the communication. It would be too easy to get excited and upset, and that wouldn’t accomplish anything.

“Do you think their ship received the transmission?”

“There is a strong possibility they did,” Triness said sadly.

“But it couldn’t have been very readable, and we were able to correct for it within minutes. I doubt a substantive exchange was made. The only thing we got from the message was information about the three moons. I for one am surprised it has taken these Federation people this long to figure that out, if indeed they have. They are a pathetic bunch, I think.”

“Always the optimist,” Gantel told her, but then, that was one reason he liked having her around. Hers was a bothersome job, in its own way, but one she didn’t seem to mind.

“They know the shuttle crew is alive, in any case.”

“We gave them reason to hope that was true,” Triness pointed out.

“Is there a chance that Voyager’s sensors could have picked up anything we wouldn’t want them picking up?”

“No,” Triness said. “The breach was along a very narrow microwave band.”

“A definite consolation. Is Daket having any luck locating the landing party? Or has he as many excuses for failing at that as he has for his failure to obtain access to the power source?”

“One of his teams has located the shuttle. We think the occupants may have been taken into a Drenarian village.”

“Leave them there, then. For now. We can destroy the village later on and be done with all of them.”

“Precisely what Daket was thinking.” Triness grinned.

Gantel sat contemplating the situation. There was nothing he could do now but wait and see what the starship commander would do next, if anything. Over the years the third director had gotten very good at waiting for favorable developments, and his patience had been rewarded often enough. He could only hope for similar results this time—preferably before First Director Shaale arrived and was forced to intervene. Better to ask for the fleet’s assistance with regard to specific plans and obvious results than to go begging for help in apparent desperation. He wanted that lovely Federation starship to be a gift to Shaale, not a burdensome military consideration, at the very least.

He looked at the strange vessel that filled the main viewscreen.

Soon, he thought. Soon enough…

***

“At least we know they’re alive!” Chakotay said, rushing onto the bridge, then huddling over the tactical station, crowding Rollins out of the way. “Computer, repeat the last message from the away team.”

The ship’s computer complied. Chakotay listened intently, straining to make out the words that came through, words twisted and muddied by a thick ocean of interference.

“Let me see if I can clean that up a bit, Commander,” Rollins offered.

Chakotay lent a hand. They played the message back again and again, adjusting the filters each time, then using the computer to enhance the results.

“That’s as good as we’re going to get it,” the ensign said finally.

Chakotay heaved a deep sigh. The message wasn’t that clear, and it got worse the farther they tried to go, right up to the point at which the signal was lost altogether. Several things, though, were clear the third moon was new, the coming lunar alignment was causing the earthquakes and magma eruptions, and the tidal forces now building might cause the planet literally to come apart.

“How long until the lunar alignment?” Chakotay wondered aloud, tapping at the console to engage the computer in the task of answering his question. He waited. He didn’t like the answer.

The other timetables facing him ran through his mind, and he began to feel very uncomfortable. He checked the figures one more time to be certain.

“Commander…” Rollins began, seeing the answer too. Then his voice trailed off as he realized the implications.

“Mr. Rollins, you have the conn,” Chakotay said, practically lunging away from the console. He headed straight toward the turbolift. “If you need me I’ll be in engineering.”

***

“I already have a job!” B’Elanna Torres snapped, moving from one console to the next, leaving her commander standing there.

Chakotay frowned as he glanced to either side. Numerous engineering personnel worked feverishly at every station, occasionally calling out to one another, while others came and went in a constant procession.

He went after the chief engineer, who had momentarily settled near the power transfer conduits leading to the dilithium housing.

“Well, I’ve got another job for you,” he said.

“How many people do you think I am?”

“What’s your status right now?” Chakotay asked, brushing past her question.

Torres made a sound somewhere in her throat, which Chakotay was sure owed little to her human side. She tossed her fallen bangs back out of her eyes and looked at him. “We’re making progress,” she said with a firm nod. Her features relaxed just a little bit, an indication she truly meant what she said. “Slow, but sure.”

“I’ve got something I want you to hear,” Chakotay said. Most of the crew knew there had been a message from the captain, but he knew B’Elanna hadn’t had a chance to listen to it yet. He ordered the computer to repeat the best version of the message.

B’Elanna played it several times.

“What do you expect me to do?” she asked skeptically.

Chakotay was sure, just by the look she was giving him, that she already had a pretty good idea.

“You tell me,” he said.

She looked straight past him with a cold, distant stare, one that his years with her had taught him meant her mind was operating at hyperspeed, which was exactly the result he had hoped for. The best way to approach B’Elanna Torres was not to barge in, ordering her to produce results. Better to tell her you had a question, one that no one else could answer. What she lacked in discipline she made up for in determination and brains.

She looked down suddenly and began pacing the floor. After a moment she raised her eyes and focused them again. She made her way straight to the main engineering console and began playing her fingers across the keypad panels. On one of the screens before her a simulation appeared; it began to change as B’Elanna reworked the mathematics.

Then she shook her head in frustration.

“What are you thinking?” Chakotay asked, quietly drawing up beside her. “What’s wrong?”

“The way I see it, our only option is to reconfigure the main deflector to project a subspace field, which can be wrapped around each moon in succession and used to help Voyager move them. Similar attempts have been tried before with Galaxy-class ships. It’s exactly like trying to push a boulder up a hill. In this case, however, the boulder is too big and the hill is too steep, so we’ll have to use the subspace field to make the boulder temporarily lighter. We’d never be able to alter the course of any of these moons significantly, but if we can move each moon a little, the accumulative effect might be enough to ease their destructive alignment. We’ll just be postponing the inevitable, but we can postpone it for quite a while.”

Chakotay couldn’t help giving her a broad grin. A little time was all they needed. “How long can we postpone the disaster?”

“Weeks, decades, maybe centuries. I don’t know. The calculations are incredibly complex. It’ll take hours.”

“We don’t have hours,” Chakotay reminded her.

“In any case, we need the warp engines back on-line before we can even consider the attempt. No warp engines, no subspace fields.

And they’ll have to be reconfigured to do the job. They won’t be available as ship’s drives.”

“Understood.”

“And we don’t have any time to waste, I’d say,” B’Elanna added.

Chakotay let his smile broaden. “I thought I already had you working on it.”

“Yes, sir,” Torres said after a momentary pause. She frowned coldly.

“Anything else?”

“I’m sure there is. I just haven’t thought of it yet.”

B’Elanna began to growl.

Chakotay stepped back once. “That’s the B’Elanna I’m so crazy about,” he said, nodding to her. He turned and made a hasty exit, thinking it best. B’Elanna made no attempt to stop him.

***

When Chakotay arrived back on the bridge the three Drosary visitors and their security detachment were waiting for him as ordered. He quickly explained the facts about the lunar alignment and what he intended to do about it. “We don’t know if we’ll be successful in the attempt, but we do think we can at least buy the planet and everyone on it some time. Perhaps, with the help of the Televek, we can do even better than that.”

“Remarkable,” Jonal replied, seeming genuinely impressed. “You and your people are a source of constant amazement!”

“Agreed,” Tassay said, sidling up to Chakotay once more, apparently pleased to be back in his presence. Mila had already fetched up next to Paris and seemed amused at something the lieutenant had just said.

Chakotay was sure he didn’t need to know what it was.

“Of course I will speak of this with Gantel at once,” Jonal said.

“Can you transmit whatever calculations and projections you might have?”

“Of course. I’ll see to it right away. Mister Paris. Have Torres transfer all pertinent data to the Televek, whatever we’ve got. Mister Stephens,” he added, speaking to the young ensign who had taken Kim’s place at Ops. “Open a channel.”

Jonal explained the idea to Gantel quickly enough. No reply was immediately forthcoming, but finally Gantel agreed that it was a commendable concept, after which he repeated many of the same things about human resourcefulness that Jonal had said. But there was something different about Gantel’s reaction. Chakotay had come to know the Televek’s voice, that being his only means of identifying the commander, and he thought Gantel sounded mildly incredulous. In a moment, however, that attitude seemed to change.

Once the upload transmission had been completed, Jonal and Gantel continued to talk for a few moments, and Chakotay wasn’t sure he liked what he heard. The trouble was, he couldn’t understand much of it.

They seemed to be speaking in circles, using numerous metaphors and similes. There were direct references to continued cooperation and communication, and a repeated endorsement of the plan to move the moons, but a certain pessimism clearly existed. “I am sorry,” Gantel said. “This is something they will simply have to accept.”

“As you say,” Jonal replied. He turned to Chakotay once more.

He did not appear grim, but neither was he jubilant, not by a long shot. “I regret to inform you, Commander, that the Televek will be unable personally to assist you in your valiant efforts at this time—efforts they do support in principle.”

Chakotay was having trouble believing what he was hearing. “What is the problem?”

“There are two, actually. While the Televek are of course familiar with warp field manipulation techniques, the cruiser now in orbit does not have the control capability such an endeavor would require.”

“Couldn’t modifications be made?” Paris asked. “Perhaps our own engineers could help.”

“Not quickly enough, and, as I’m sure you understand, Gantel does not want your technicians working aboard his ship. At least not yet.”

“You said there were two reasons,” Chakotay reminded the advocate.

“Yes. You see, Commander, the Televek are convinced that the continuing drop in the energy levels of the plant’s defense system are directly related to the seismic activity. This is based on records gathered from previous encounters with the planet, which date back several decades. Therefore, it is possible that if the seismic process were somehow to be interrupted, or even slowed, the defense system might not be recoverable.”

“But stopping the quakes would put everyone out of danger!” Paris exclaimed, rising out of his chair, examining all three alien visitors with suddenly wary eyes.

“Yes and no,” Mila told him, bending slightly to bring her own very serious face close to his. “With the system revitalized, you would still not be able to get down to the surface to rescue your away team or any of the indigenous populations, perhaps not ever. And your own people, and any Televek survivors, would not be able to get back into orbit, whether their ships were functional or not. All of them would be trapped on Drenar Four indefinitely.”

“But at this rate they might all be dead by the time we can safely get to them,” Paris said.

“Or they might not be,” Tassay replied.

“If it turned out that way, we’d just have to find a way to defeat the planet’s defenses,” Chakotay said, trying to sort things out.

“Easily proposed, but difficult to do,” Jonal replied. “The Televek have tried, and they are not the first. But you haven’t heard me out.

When the other ships in the rescue fleet arrive, it is entirely possible that, working together, you and they could find a means.

Also, depending on how much time the planet itself has left, some of those arriving ships might be able to assist in the attempt to realign the moons.”

Chakotay considered this for a moment. It made sense, especially from the aliens’ point of view. He just didn’t like it very much. There were far too many “ifs” and “buts.” On the other hand, none of the facts seemed to be in his favor just now. And none of the options seemed workable.