Star Trek: TNG Indstinguishable From Magic (48 page)

“No. The analysis we were able to make with astronomical equipment salvaged from the interior of the
Hera
suggests we are in the galaxy NGC 4414, approximately sixty two million light-years from our own galaxy.”

Scotty had expected this kind of news, but it was still a shock to hear it. “How many of you are there?”

“Forty-seven of us remain. Thirty-nine Vulcans, six humans, one Bolian, and one Caitian.”

“Forty-seven? Out of seven hundred and fifty?”

“Out of seven hundred and sixty-three in total, yes.”

Nog stepped forward. “How did you manage to find food out here? We’re reading life signs, but not seeing much life, apart from the moss forests. I’m not sure if those zombie things count.”

“There is limited life on the surface,” Savar said. “The atmosphere contains both water moisture and sufficient chemicals to support bacteria. There are edible mosses and so on. However, we were most fortunate that several replicators remained online and could be kept running with the surviving portable generators.”

“Handy.”

“That being the case, the microbiological life has been most useful to us as raw material for the replicators. Water has been less of a problem. It condenses readily with temperature
change, as on most planets, and there are occasional rains.”

Another Vulcan brought a medical kit, and began to prepare a hypo for Scotty. “You seem affected by the atmosphere,” he said. “A tri-ox compound should be of use.”

As he applied the hypo to Scotty, the non-Vulcan survivors began to appear. Scotty thanked the Vulcan medic, and Barclay turned to Savar. “What are those things that attacked us? Some kind of zombie apocalypse?”

Savar gave him a pitying look. “They are not the undead. This planet is psycho-reactive and it responds to uncontrolled emotions by generating hostile bioforms out of locally available materials.”

“There are bones in them!” Voktra exclaimed.

“Then what are they? Animating our dead in the hope we won’t fight back against them? Or just desecrating them for fun?” Barclay asked.

“Neither,” Nog said. “I should have realized it before. It’s a good engineering idea.”

“Engineering?” Voktra echoed.

“Moss and roots, or whatever that stuff is, isn’t going to be able to run or fight. But wrap it around an articulated armature . . .”

“The skeletons?”

“A handy articulated frame,” Nog agreed, “for a puppet.”

“Controlled by that moss?” Voktra’s tone dripped with skepticism.

“I don’t know. Controlled by something. Savar, could that moss be intelligent? Or perhaps the crystalline material that was in it.”

The Vulcan seemed to consider. “The moss is high-protein and very elastic, optimized for incredibly rapid
growth and contraction. Almost like muscle tissue, and that is the purpose it plays.”

Scotty thought over all that he’d been listening to as the tri-ox compound took effect, and his breathing eased. “A skeleton as an armature, moss for muscles, rock crystal for mass, and roots to hold together . . . But what’s the driving force? Where’s the intelligence?”

“And why attack us?” Barclay asked.

“Perhaps because you are new,” Savar suggested. “The attacks on our settlement have reduced over the years, as we have adjusted our minds to the situation.”

“Maybe . . . But it would surely take some kind of intelligence to generate such reactions. Processing power at least,” said Scotty.

“There is no technology here,” Savar pointed out. “No computers other than the ones we brought. And we run them rarely.”

“After some rest, I’d like to show you something,” Scotty said, unable to keep his eyes open any longer.

“As you wish, Captain,” Savar agreed.

A few hours later, the surviving
Challenger
visitors, plus several Vulcans and one Caitian, had returned to the city formerly known as the
Hera
. Scotty led them like a tourist guide, pointing a hand around the raised plateau that surrounded the city-like interior of the
Hera
, pausing as his finger angled toward the various rock outcroppings that were growing up around the structural spars, and encrusted the bases of the ground-level walls.

“The interior seems to have arrived partially inside the surface.”

Savar looked where Scotty was pointing. “That is how it appears, but it was not the case when we arrived.”

“It wasn’t? But this is rock, it couldn’t have just grown in twelve years.”

“And yet it has.”

“I wonder how that happened . . .”

“Is it important?” Voktra asked. “I don’t see how it impacts on our situation, and we do have a limited time.”

Barclay took a deep breath, evidently trying to play it cool. “When you’re explorers, everything new that you find is important. And when you’re trying to survive, anything that’s out of the ordinary, or might have a tactical implication, is important.”

Voktra nodded curtly. “You are correct. I apologize.” She hesitated, then offered a slightly wavering smile. “And I have to admit, it’s curious from a structural engineering viewpoint.”

“Yes, yes it is. I knew you’d see it my way,” Barclay said.

“Your way?” Voktra asked.

Scotty took Savar to the base of the structure. “The ground itself is growing around the
Hera
’s structure.”

Barclay felt vindicated. “Like I said when we arrived, the geology on this planet makes absolutely no sense whatsoever. The heat without either sunlight or volcanic activity, the hill growing up around and through the
Hera . . .
”

Scotty drew a tricorder and activated it. It began to warble, and a regular waveform began to scroll across the screen. “Do you see this?”

“The planet’s magnetic signature?” Savar nodded. “I have seen it many times.”

“Not on a medical tricorder,” Scotty said slyly. He handed the tricorder to Savar. “This is set to scan for alpha rhythms, natural brainwaves, but just look at the scale!” Scotty continued. “I thought of it last night—well, before I slept, when you used the word psycho-reactive. Psycho.
Why is it psycho-reactive?” Scotty suddenly kicked the rock that was growing around the spar from the
Hera
. “And as for this bloody thing, it’s a scab!”

“What?”

“Don’t ye see? It’s scar tissue! It has to be. The heat is body heat, the magnetosphere shows the rhythms of brainwaves . . .”

“You’re saying we’re not on a planet?”

“I’m saying the planet is a life-form. It’s alive, man! A living brain that’s grown itself a protective casing the size of Luna.”

“That’s insane!” Voktra protested. “A living organism, the size of a planet . . .”

“Why not? What sort of natural predator would it have?”

“What about the L-374 system’s artifact?” Barclay said. “Didn’t they call that the planet-killer?”

“Aye, lad, that it was. But it was a machine, a manufactured weapon; ye couldna call it a planet’s
natural
predator.” Scotty pointed to the rocky growth again. “Now think about the damage the toroidal continuum fold must be causing. From the
Challenger
’s side of the fold, it’s several meters inside the surface of the planet. Inside the skin of a living creature!”

“Which would mean the fold, and the interior of the
Hera
, is, what, a tumor in the skin of this . . . planet-creature?” Barclay asked.

“That’s exactly what it means.”

“I dread to think what Doctor Ogawa will say.”

Scotty laughed mirthlessly. “She’ll say it’s only natural for a living form to create antibodies to fight infection. Like us.”

Savar paced a few feet away, deep in thought. “Not us,” he said thoughtfully. “Our minds, and our emotions.”
He looked up. “Strong emotions have always drawn stronger attacks, and you were attacked in our garden of remembrance. I presume you were upset.” He looked at Voktra. “And Romulans are a very passionate people.”

“I’ll look after her,” Barclay said defensively. He stepped in front of Voktra, and saw that her hand was shaking. “I didn’t think Romulans were afraid of anything.”

“Who said I was afraid?”

“You’re a little—Well, trembling a little.”

“Are you sure its not you who’s trembling?”

“Well, actually, no, I’m not so sure. Maybe a little. But that’s not a denial.”

“No, it isn’t. So, are you afraid?” the Romulan asked.

“No. Yes. I mean, sort of, but I’m not going to let it get between me and doing my duty. And you?” Barclay asked.

“You may rest assured that I will do my duty.”

“Even if you’re afraid.”

“Especially if I’m afraid, which, as it happens, I’m not.” Voktra insisted.

“Oh. But you’re still . . . trembling.”

“That isn’t fear.”

“Then what is it?”

“It is . . . inappropriate right now.”

“Oh. Ah.”

Savar spoke quietly to Scotty. “Emotion will draw more attacks. Fortunately we are far enough from the moss forest that we may be safe here.”

“Then we’d be better making our camp here.” Scotty looked toward the viewport set into the floor. “This is where the fold is, so this is probably where we’ll have the best chance of getting back.”

“There is no means of leaving the planet,” Savar proclaimed.

“Are ye sure?”

“As sure as is possible to be. Under the command of Captain La Forge, we spent the first eight months of our enforced exile here seeking a means to leave.

“But did she know we were on the wrong side of a toroidal continuum fold?”

“No,” Savar admitted. “None of us had determined that. Most of our engineering officers were killed in the crash.”

“Aye, I thought as much.” Scotty considered how best to put across the conclusion he had reached. “Have ye ever seen a fella make balloon animals?”

“Of course.”

“Imagine such a man blows up a balloon, and twists a part of it so he can shove it back inside the main part of the balloon. That’s what we’ve got here, but balanced both ways. So as well as the smaller bubble being inside the main part of the balloon, the main part of the balloon is inside the smaller bubble.”

“And the actual twisted part is the fold,” Barclay added helpfully, having returned to the main group with Voktra.

“Ye’ve got it, Reg. A chunk of the universe is trapped as a bubble on the other side of the spatial manifold inside the
Hera
’s hull, but the rest of the universe is also trapped as a bubble in this part, under that interior of the
Hera
.” Scotty stood on the viewport, and stamped his foot on it, kicking up dust. “Essentially the universe is kind of like a Möbius strip. What happens when you join two Möbius strips together is you get a Klein surface, or, as it’s more usually called, a Klein bottle.”

“Why the discrepancy?” Savar asked. “Is it important?”

“Not at all. It’s a mistranslation to Standard from the German words
flache
and
flasche.
A Klein
bottle
is a type
of manifold that only has one side. Both the interior and exterior of the bottle are the same side. The important thing is that the universe itself is analogous to a Möbius strip. By definition it only has one side, or surface. But as soon as you have two of it . . .”

“They’re stuck together as a Klein bottle,” Barclay explained.

“A Klein bottle cannot exist in three dimensional space without intersecting with itself,” Savar pointed out.

“And you just hit on the key words, Savar. Intersecting with itself.” Scotty stepped back off the viewport. “The universe is a Möbius strip, the bubble is a Möbius strip, and because they’re tied together they’ve formed a Klein bottle. But because this is a physical thing, in real space, there has to be an intersection with itself.”

“The
Hera.”
Comprehension began to dawn in Savar’s eyes.

“Aye. The spatial fold occupying the same space as the
Hera,
is where the universe intersects with itself.”

“H
ow could this spatial fold have formed?” Savar asked Scotty.

“It couldn’t. Not naturally, anyway.”

“Artificially?” offered Savar.

“Not with any technology either the Federation or the Romulans have.”

“Something else,” Voktra suggested, “sufficiently advanced as to be indistinguishable from magic?”

“Maybe, or something else even more advanced than
those things . . . whatever they are. The alien ships out there with
Challenger
.” Scotty paused. “Let me guess. You’re thinking that’d be a technology worth seeking out? Maybe worth copying or stealing? The next Genesis Project?”

“As a means of advanced propulsion I’d say the drawbacks outweigh the potential gains, wouldn’t you?” Voktra replied.

“That’s putting it mildly,” Scotty agreed.

“For the moment,” Voktra said quietly, “I’m thinking that the only thing worth seeking out is a way back to where
Challenger
is.”

“That is impossible.” Savar repeated his earlier claim.

“Oh, is it?” Scotty waggled a finger at the Vulcan. “If it’s possible to travel one way through the fold, it ought to be possible to travel the other way, seein’ as we know mass-detection works both ways.”

“And yet—”

“Have ye ever considered that maybe the reason you’ve found it impossible is because the psycho-reactive effect is
making
it impossible, because that’s what, on some level, you fear?”

Savar was silent for a long moment. “There may a certain logic in what you say. I must . . . consider this.”

“Consider it quickly, Commander.”

One of the alien leviathans flexed slightly, and moved with effortless grace toward the
Challenger
. Carolan, on the bridge, calmly called a Yellow Alert. La Forge and Sela arrived a moment later. “Captain,” Carolan began, “one of the aliens is approaching us on an intercept course.”

“Are they arming any weapons?”

“Not that we can tell, sir, but we can’t tell anything about them.”

“I wonder what they want?” La Forge said.

“Not to destroy us.”

La Forge was surprised to hear Sela react with something other than Romulan paranoia and hostility. “No.”