STAR TREK - TNG - 47 - Q-Space

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Star Trek - TNG - Q-Space
Prologue
LET ME BACK IN!
In back me let!
Beyond the wall, he gibbered. Time meant nothing to him. An instant was the same as an eternity; both
were merely subjective measures of his isolation and his madness, which began the moment he was cast
out of creation and had been taking its toll ever since. His exile had just begun, and it had lasted forever.
It's not fair, he thought, as he had thought since the wall came into being. Fair is.fair, there is there, and
here is nowhere, nowhere, no hope. Isn't that so?
So it is, he answered himself, since he'd had no one else to talk to for as long as long could possibly be.
So, so, so... so how could they lock me up like this? Why could they?
His feverish mind offered an explanation. Fear.
That was their paltry excuse. Mere fear, sheer fear, that's clear. He cackled at his own cleverness. Fear,
here. Fair, there. Fear is fair.
No, it is not, he protested angrily. I never did anything, anything that mattered. Matter isn't anything. No,
it isn't, is it?
Not at all. All is not. Not is now.
Now. Now. Now.
Now, for the first time since his bleak, barbaric banishment began, something new was happening.
There was a weakness in the wall, not enough to allow him to slide his way through, at least not yet, but a
certain slackening that perhaps foretold an end to his stubborn struggle to get past the wall. He felt a
crack, an infinitesimal fracture in the infinite, that he shouted through with all his might. Me back in let/
Even if the entirety of his being could not pass through the tantalizingly, tormentingly small lesion, he could
still send his ceaseless craving back into the realm from which he had been so unjustly cast out, crying out
to anyone who might hear his desperate plea.
Back let me in he demanded.
And a voice answered back.
Chapter One
Captain's log, stardate 500146.2.
At Starfleet's request, the Enterprise has arrived at Betazed to take on Lem Faal, a distinguished
Betazoid scientist, and his two children.
Under Faal's direction, this ship will take part in a highly classified experiment that, if it is successful, may
open up a vast new frontier for exploration.
"ARE YOU QUITE SURE, COUNSELOR, that you do not wish to visit your family while we are here
at Betazed?" "No, thank you, Captain," Commander Deanna Troi replied. "As it happens, my mother
and little brother are off on one of her regular excursions to the Parallax Colony on Shiralea VI, so there's
not much point in beaming down." You didn't have to be an empath to detect an unmistakable look of
relief on Captain Jean-Luc Picard's face when he learned that Lwaxana Troi was several dozen
light-years away. She knew exactly how he felt; even though she genuinely loved her mother, Troi wasn't
too disappointed that there would be no parent-daughter reunion on this particular mission.
Surviving a visit with Lwaxana always required a lot of energy--and patience. Maybe it will get easier
someday, she thought. And maybe Klingons will become vegetarians, too.
"That's too bad," Captain Picard said unconvincingly. "Although I'm sure our guest must be anxious to get
under way." He glanced toward the far end of the conference room, where a middle-aged Betazoid male
waited patiently, reviewing the data on a padd that he held at arm's length from himself. Must be
farsighted, Troi guessed, a not uncommon condition in Betazoids of a certain age. Lem Faal had striking,
dark brown eyes, a receding hairline, and the slightly distracted air of a born academic. He reminded Troi
of any number of professors she had encountered during her student days at the university., although, on
closer inspection, she also picked up an impression of infirmity even though she couldn't spot any obvious
handicap. Wearing a tan-colored civilian suit, he looked out of place among all the Starfleet uniforms.
Almost instinctively, her empathic senses reached out to get a reading on the new arrival, only to
immediately come into contact with a telepathic presence far more powerful than her own. Becoming
aware of her tentative probing, Faal looked up from his data padd and made eye contact with Troi from
across the room.
Hello, he thought to her.
Er, hello, she thought back. Growing up on Betazed, she had become accustomed to dealing with full
telepaths, even though she felt a bit rusty at mindspeaking after spending so many years among humans
and other nontelepathic races. Welcome to the Enterprise.
Thank you, he answered. She sensed, behind his verbal responses, feelings of keen anticipation,
excitement, anxiety, and... something else as well, something she couldn't quite make out. Curious, she
stretched out further, deeper until she could almost-- Excuse me, Faal thought, blocking her. I think the
captain is ready to begin the briefing.
Troi blinked, momentarily disoriented by the speed with which she had been shoved out of Faal's mind.
She looked around the conference room of the Enterprise-E. The other Betazoid's telepathic comment
seemed accurate enough; her fellow officers were already taking their places around the curved,
illuminated conference table. Captain Picard stood at the head of the table, opposite the blank
viewscreen at the other end of the room, where Faal waited to make his presentation. Decorative
windows along the outer wall of the conference room offered a eye-catching view of Betazed's upper
hemisphere, an image reflected in the glass panes of the display case mounted to the inner wall.
Gold-plated models of great starsh!ps of the past hung within the case, including a mtmature replica of
the lost Enterprise-D, her home for seven years. Troi always winced inside a little whenever she noticed
that model. She'd been at the helm of that Enterprise when it made its fatal crash into Veridian III. Even
though she knew, intellectually, that it wasn't her fault, she still couldn't forget the sense of horror she had
felt as the saucer section dived into the atmosphere of Veridian III, never to rise again. This new ship was
a fine vessel, as she'd proven during their historic battle with the Borg a few months ago, but she didn't
feel quite like home. Not yet.
Preoccupied with thoughts of the past, Troi sat down at the table between Geordi La Forge and Beverly
Crusher. Will Riker and Data were seated across from her, their attention on Captain Picard.
Riker's confidence and good humor radiated from him, helping to dispel her gloomy memories. She
shook her head to clear her mind and listened attentively as the captain began to speak.
"We are honored to have with us today Lem Faal, a specialist in applied physics from the University of
Betazed. Professor Faal has previously won awards from the Daystrom Institute and the Vulcan Science
Academy for his groundbreaking work in energy wave dynamics." "Impressive stuff," Geordi said,
obviously familiar with Faars work. Troi could feel the intensity of his scientific interest seeping off him.
No surprise there; she'd expect their chief engineer to be fascinated by "energy wave dynamics" and like
matters.
"Indeed," Data commented. "I have been particularly intrigued by the professor's insights into the
practical applications of transwarp spatial anomalies." The android's sense of anticipation felt just as acute
as Geordi's. He must have activated his emotion chip, Troi realized. She could always tell, which certainly
demonstrated how genuine Data's on-again, off-again emotions could be.
"Starfleet," the captain continued, "has the greatest of interest in Professor Faal's current line of research,
and the Enterprise has been selected to participate in an experiment testing certain new theories he has
devised." He gestured toward Faal, who nodded his head in acknowledgment. "Professor, no doubt you
can explain your intentions better." "Well, I can try," the scientist answered. He tapped a control on his
padd and the viewscreen behind him lit up. The image that appeared on the screen was of a shimmering
ribbon of reddish-purple energy that appeared to stretch across a wide expanse of interstellar space. The
Nexus? Troi thought for a second, but, no, this glowing band did not look quite the same color as the
mysterious phenomenon that had obsessed Tolian Soran. It looked familiar, though, like something she
might have seen at an astrophysics lecture back at Starfleet Academy. Of course, she realized instantly,
the barrier!
She felt a temporary surge of puzzlement quickly fade from the room. Obviously, the other officers had
recognized the barrier as well. Faal let his audience take in the image for a few seconds before beginning
his lecture.
"For centuries," he began, "the great galactic barrier has blocked the Federation's exploration of the
universe beyond our own Milky Way galaxy. It completely surrounds the perimeter of our galaxy, posing
a serious hazard to any vessel that attempts to venture to the outer limits of inhabited space. Not only do
the unnatural energies that comprise the barrier batter a vessel physically, but there is also a psychic
component to the barrier that causes insanity, brain damage, and even death to any humanoid that comes
into contact with it." Troi winced at the thought. As an empath, she knew just how fragile a mind could
be, and how a heightened sensitivity to psychic phenomena sometimes left one particularly vulnerable to
such effects as the professor described. As a full telepath, Faal had to be even more wary of powerful
psychokinetic forces. She wondered if his own gifts played any part in his interest in the barrier.
Faal pressed another button on his padd and the picture of the barrier was replaced by a standard map
of the known galaxy, divided into the usual four sections. A flashing purple line, indicating the galactic
barrier, circled all four quadrants. "The Federation has always accepted this limitation, as have the
Klingons and the Romulans and the other major starfaring civilizations, because there has always been so
much territory to explore within our own galaxy. After all, even after centuries of warp travel, both the
Gamma and the Delta quadrants remain largely uncharted.
Furthermore, the distances between galaxies are so incalculably immense that, even if there were a safe
way to cross the barrier, a voyage to another galaxy would require a ship to travel for centuries at
maximum warp. And finally, to be totally honest, we have accepted the barrier because there has been
no viable alternative to doing so.
"That situation may have changed," Faal announced with what was to Troi a palpable sense of pride.
Typical, she thought. What scientist is not proud of his accomplishments? The map of the galaxy
flickered, giving way to a photo of a blond-haired woman whose pale skin was delicately speckled with
dark red markings that ran from her temples down to the sides of her throat. A Trill, Troi thought,
recognizing the characteristic spotting of that symbiotic life-form.
She felt a fleeting pang of sadness from the woman seated next to her and sympathized with Beverly,
who was surely recalling her own doomed love affair with the Trill diplomat Ambassador Odan. Troi
wasn't sure, but she thought she sensed a bit of discomfort from Will Riker as well. A reasonable
reaction, considering that Will had once "loaned" his own body to a Trill symbiont. She was relieved to
note that both Will and Beverly swiftly overcame their flashes of emotion, focusing once more on the
present. They acknowledged their pasts, then moved on, the counselor diagnosed approvingly. Very
healthy behavior.
Worfmarried a Trill, she remembered with only the slightest twinge of jealousy. Then she took her own
advice and put that reaction behind her. I wish him only the best, she thought.
"Some of you may be familiar with the recent work of Dr. Lenara Kahn, the noted Trill physicist," Faal
went on. Heads nodded around the table and Troi experienced a twinge of guilt; she tried to keep up to
date on the latest scientific developments, as summarized in Starfleet's never-ending bulletins and position
papers, but her own interests leaned more toward psychology and sociology than the hard sciences,
which she sometimes gave only a cursory inspection.
Oh well, she thought, I never intended to transfer to Engineering. "A few years ago, Dr. Kahn and her
associates conducted a test on Deep Space Nine, which resulted in the creation of the Federation's first
artificially generated wormhole. The wormhole was unstable, and collapsed only moments after its
creation, but Kahn's research team has continued to refine and develop this new technology. They're still
years away from being able to produce an artificial wormhole that's stable enough to permit reliable
transport to other sectors of the galaxy, but it dawned on me that the same technique, modified
somewhat, might allow a starship to open a temporary breach in the galactic barrier, allowing safe
passage through to the other side. As you may have guessed, that's where the Enterprise comes in." A
low murmur arose in the conference room as the assembled officers reacted to Faal's revelation. Data
and Geordi took turns peppering the Betazoid scientist with highly technical questions that quickly left
Troi behind. Just as well, she thought. She was startled enough by just the basic idea.
Breaking the barrier.t It was one of those things, like passing the warp-ten threshold or flying through a
sun, that people talked about sometimes, but you never really expected to happen in your lifetime.
Searching her memory, she vaguely recalled that the original Enterprise, Captain Kirk's ship, had passed
through the barrier on a couple of occasions, usually with spectacularly disastrous consequences.
Starfleet had declared such expeditions off-limits decades ago, although every few years some crackpot
or daredevil would try to break the barrier in a specially modified ship. To date, none of these would-be
heroes had survived. She remembered Will Riker once, years ago on Betazed, describing such dubious
endeavors as "the warp-era equivalent of going over Niagara in a barrel." Now, apparently, it was time
for the Enterprise-E to take the plunge. She couldn't suppress a chill at the very thought.
"I'm curious, Professor," Riker asked. "Where exactly do you plan to make the test?" Faal tapped his
padd and the map of the galaxy reappeared on the screen. The image zoomed in on the Alpha Quadrant
and he pointed at a wedgeshaped area on the map. "Those portions of the barrier that exist within
Federation space have been thoroughly surveyed by unmanned probes containing the most advanced
sensors available, and they've made a very intriguing discovery. Over the last year or so, energy levels
within the barrier have fluctuated significantly, producing what appears to be a distinct weakening in the
barrier at several locations." Shaded red areas appeared throughout the flashing purple curve on the
screen. Troi noted that the shaded sections represented only a small portion of the barrier. They looked
like mere dots scattered along the length of the line. Like leaks in a dam, she thought, finding the
comparison somewhat unsettling.
Faal gave her an odd look, as if aware of her momentary discomfort. "These... imperfections. in the
integrity of the barrier are not substantial, representing only a fractional diminution in the barrier's strength,
but they are significant enough to recommend themselves as the logical sites at which to attempt to
penetrate the barrier. This particular site," he said, pointing tø one of the red spots, which began to flash
brighter than the rest, "is located in an uninhabited and otherwise uninteresting sector of space. Since
Starfleet would prefer to conduct this experiment in secrecy, far from the prying eyes of the Romulans or
the Cardassians, this site has been selected for our trial run. Even as I speak, specialized equipment,
adapted from the original Trill designs, is being transported aboard the Enterprise. I look forward to
working with Mr. La Forge and his engineering team on this project."
"Thanks," Geordi replied. The ocular implants that served as his eyes glanced from Data to Faal.
"Whatever you need, I'm sure we're up to it. Sounds like quite a breakthrough, in more ways than one."
Troi peered at the spot that Faal had indicated on the map. She didn't recall much about that region, but
she estimated that it was about two to three days away at warp five. Neither the captain nor Will Riker
radiated any concern about the location Faal had chosen. She could tell that they anticipated an
uneventful flight until they arrived at the barrier.
"Professor," she asked, "how similar is the galactic barrier to the Great Barrier? Would your new
technique be effective on both?" Faal nodded knowingly. "That's a good question.
What is colloquially known as 'the Great Barrier' is a similar wall of energy that encloses the very center
of our galaxy, as opposed to the outer rim of the galaxy.
More precisely, the Great Barrier is an intragalactic energy field while our destination is an extragalactic
field." He ran his hand through his thinning gray hair.
"Research conducted over the last hundred years suggests that both barriers are composed of equivalent,
maybe even identical, forms of energy. In theory, the artificial wormhole process, if it's successful, could
be used to penetrate the Great Barrier as well.
Many theorists believe both barriers stem from the same root cause." "Which is?" she inquired.
Faal chuckled. "I'm afraid that's more of a theological question than a scientific one, and thus rather out of
my field. As far as we can tell, the existence of the barriers predates the development of sentient life in
our galaxy. Or at least any life-forms we're familiar with." That's odd, Troi mused. She wasn't sure but
she thought she detected a flicker of insincerity behind the scientist's ingratiating manner, like he was
holding something back. Perhaps he's not as confident about his theories as he'd like Starfleet to think,
she thought. It was hard to tell; Faal's own telepathic gifts made him difficult to read.
Sitting beside Troi, Beverly Crusher spoke up, a look of concern upon her features. "Has anyone thought
about the potential ecological consequences of poking a hole in the barrier? If these walls have been in
place for billions of years, maybe they serve some vital purpose, either to us or to whatever lifeforms
exist on the opposite side of the wall. I hate to throw cold water on a fascinating proposal, but maybe the
barrier shouldn't be breached?" There it is again, Troi thought, watching the Betazoid scientist carefully.
She sensed some sort of reaction from Faal in response to Beverly's question.
It flared up immediately, then was quickly snuffed out before she could clearly identify the emotion. Fear?
Guilt? Annoyance? Maybe he simply doesnt like having his experiment challenged, she speculated.
Certainly he wouldn't be the first dedicated scientist to suffer from tunnel vision where his brainchild was
concerned. Researchers, she knew from experience, could be as protective of their pet projects as an
enraged sehlat defending its young.
If he was feeling defensive, he displayed no sign of it. "Above all else, first do no harm, correct, Doctor?"
he replied to Crusher amiably, paraphrasing the Hippocratic Oath. "I appreciate your concerns, Doctor.
Let me reassure you a bit regarding the scale of our experiment. The galactic barrier itself is so
unfathomably vast that our proposed exercise is not unlike knocking a few bricks out of your own Earth's
Great Wall of China. It's hard to imagine that we could do much damage to the ecosystem of the entire
galaxy, let alone whatever lies beyond, although the potential danger is another good reason for
conducting this preliminary test in an unpopulated sector. As far as we know, there's nothing on the other
side except the vast emptiness between our own galaxy and its neighbors." He pressed a finger against
his padd and the screen behind him reverted to the compelling image with which he had begun his lecture:
the awe-inspiring sight of the galactic barrier stretching across countless light-years of space, its eerie,
incandescent energies rippling through the shimmering wall of violet light.
"Starfleet feels--" he started to say, but a harsh choking noise interrupted his explanation. He placed his
free hand over his mouth and coughed a few more times. Troi saw his chest heaving beneath his suit and
winced in sympathy. She was no physician, but she didn't like the sound of Faal's coughs, which seemed
to come from deep within his lungs. She could tell that Beverly was concerned as well.
"Excuse me," Faal gasped, fishing around in the pockets of his tan suit. He withdrew a compact silver
hypospray, which he pressed against the crook of his arm. Troi heard a distinctive hiss as the instrument
released its medication into his body. Within a few seconds, Faal appeared to regain control of his
breathing. "I apologize for the interruption, but I'm afraid my health isn't all it should be." Troi recalled her
earlier impression of infirmity.
Was this ailment, she wondered, what the professor was trying so hard to conceal? Even Betazoids, who
generally prided themselves on being at ease with their own bodies, could feel uncomfortable about
revealing a serious medical condition. She recalled that Faal had brought his family along on this mission,
despite the possibility of danger, and she wondered how his obvious health problems might have affected
his children. Perhaps I shouM prepare for some family counseling, just in case my assistance is needed.
Faal took a few deep breaths to steady himself, then addressed Beverly. "As ship's medical officer, Dr.
Crusher, you should probably be aware that I have Iverson's disease." The emotional temperature of the
room rose to a heightened level the moment Faal mentioned the dreaded sickness. Iverson's disease
remained one of the more conspicuous failures of twenty- fourthcentury medicine: a debilitating,
degenerative condition for which there was no known cure. Thankfully noncontagious, the disorder
attacked muscle fiber and other connective tissues, resulting in the progressive atrophy of limbs and vital
organs; from the sound of Faal's labored breathing, Troi suspected that Faal's ailment had targeted his
respiratory system. She felt acute sympathy and embarrassment on the part of her fellow officers. No
doubt all of them were remembering Admiral Mark Jamesonwand the desperate lengths the disease had
driven him to during that mission to Mordan IV. "I'm very sorry," she said.
"Please feel free to call on me for whatever care you may require," Beverly stressed. "Perhaps you should
come by sickbay later so we can discuss your condition in private." "Thank you," he said, "but please
don't let my condition concern any of you." He held up the hypospray. "My doctor has prescribed
polyadrenaline for my current symptoms. All that matters now is that I live long enough to see the
completion of my work." The hypospray went back into his pocket and Faal pointed again to the image
of the galactic barrier on the screen.
"At any rate," he continued, "Starfleet Science has judged the potential risk of this experiment to be
acceptable when weighed against the promise of opening up a new era of expansion beyond the
boundaries of this galaxy. Exploring the unknown always contains an element of danger. Isn't that so,
Captain?" "Indeed," the captain agreed. "The fundamental mission of the Enterprise, as well as that of
Star fleet, has always been to extend the limits of our knowledge of the universe, exploring new and
uncharted territory." Picard rose from his seat at the head of the table.
'Your experiment, Professor Faal, falls squarely within the proud tradition of this ship. Let us hope for the
best of luck in this exciting new endeavor." It's too bad, Troi thought, that the rest of the crew can't sense
Captain Picard's passion and commitment the same way I can. Then she looked around the conference
table and saw the glow of the captain's inspiration reflected in the faces of her fellow officers.
Even Beverly, despite her earlier doubts, shared their commitment to the mission. On second thought,
maybe they can.
"Thank you, Captain," Lem Faal said warmly. Troi noticed that he still seemed a bit out of breath. "I am
anxious to begin." This time Troi detected nothing but total sincerity in the man's words.
Chapter Two
"THE MOST DIFFICULT PART," Lem Faal explained, "is going to be keeping the torpedo intact inside
the barrier until it can send out a magneton pulse." "That's more than difficult," Chief Engineer Geordi La
Forge commented. He had been reading up on the galactic barrier ever since the briefing, so he had a
better idea of what they were up against. "That's close to impossible." The duty engineer's console,
adjacent to the chief engineer's office, had been reassigned to the Betazoid researcher as a workstation
where he could complete the preparations for his experiment. To accommodate Faal's shaky health, La
Forge had also taken care to provide a sturdy stool Faal could rest upon while he worked. Now he and
Geordi scrutinized the diagrams unfolding on a monitor as Faal spelled out the details of his experiment:
"Not if we fine-tune the polarity of the shields to match exactly the amplitude of the barrier at the point
where the quantum torpedo containing the magneton pulse generator enters the barrier. That amplitude is
constantly shifting, of course, but if we get it right, then the torpedo should hold together long enough to
emit a magneton pulse that will react with a subspace tensor matrix generated by the Enterprise to create
an opening in the space-time continuum. Then, according to my calculations, the artificial wormhole will
disrupt the energy lattice of the barrier, creating a pathway of normal space through to the other side?
"Then it's only two million light-years to the next galaxy, right?" Geordi said with a grin. "I guess we'll
have to build that bridge when we get to it." "Precisely," Faal answered. "For myself, I'll leave that
challenge for the starship designers and transwarp enthusiasts. Who knows? Maybe a generation ship is
the answer, if you can find enough colonists who don't mind leaving the landing to their descendants. Or
suspended animation, perhaps. But before we can face the long gulf between the galaxies, first we must
break free from the glimmering cage that has hemmed us in since time began. We're like baby birds that
finally have to leave the nest and explore the great blue sky beyond." "I never quite thought of it that
way," Geordi said.
"After all, the Milky Way is one reck of a big nest." "The biggest nest still hems you in, as the largest cage
is still a cage," Faal insisted with a trace of bitterness in his voice. "Look at me. My mind is free to
explore the fundamental principles of the universe, but it's trapped inside a fragile, dying body." He
looked up from his schematics to inspect Geordi.
"Excuse me for asking, Commander, but I'm intrigued by your eyes. Are those the new ocular implants
I've heard about, the ones they just developed on Earth?" The scientist's curiosity did not bother Geordi;
sometimes his new eyes still caught him by surprise, especially when he looked in a mirror. "These are
them, all right. I didn't know you were interested in rehabilitative medicine. Or is it the optics?" "It's all
about evolution," Faal explained.
"Technology has usurped natural selection as the driving force of evolution, so I'm fascinated by the ways
in which sentient organisms can improve upon their own flawed biology. Prosthetics are one way, genetic
manipulation is another. So is breaking the barrier, perhaps. It's about overcoming the inherent frailties of
our weak humanoid bodies, becoming superior beings, just as you have used the latest in medical
technology to improve yourself." Geordi wasn't sure quite how to respond. He didn't exactly think of
himself as "superior," just better equipped to do his job. "If you say so, Professor," he said, feeling a little
uncomfortable. Lem Faal was starting to sound a bit too much like a Borg. Maybe it was only a trick of
light, reflecting the glow of the monitor, but an odd sort of gleam had crept into the Betazoid's eyes as he
spoke. I wonder if I would have even noticed that a few years ago? Geordi thought. His VISOR had
done a number of things well, from isolating hairline fractures in metal plating to tracking neutrinos through
a flowing plasma current, but picking up on subtle nuances of facial expressions hadn't been one of them.
"Chief!" Geordi turned around to see Lieutenant Reginald Barclay approaching the workstation.
Barclay was pushing before him an antigray carrier supporting a device Geordi recognized from
Professor Faal's blueprints. "Mr. DeCandido in Transporter Room Five said you wanted this
immediately." The carrier was a black metal platform, hovering above the floor at about waist level,
which Barclay steered by holding on to a horizontal handlebar in front of his chest. Faal's invention sat
atop the platform, held securely in place by a stasis field. It consisted of a shining steel cylinder,
approximately a meter and a half in height, surrounded by a transparent plastic sphere with metal
connection plates at both the top and the bottom poles of the globe. It looked like it might be fairly heavy
outside the influence of the antigrav generator; Geordi automatically estimated the device's mass with an
eye toward figuring out how it would affect the trajectory of a standard quantum torpedo once it was
installed within the torpedo casing. Shouldn't be too hard to insert the globe into a torpedo, he thought,
assuming everything is in working order inside the sphere.
"Thanks, Reg," he said. "Professor Faal, this is Lieutenant Reginald Barclay. Reg, this is Professor Faal."
"Pleased to meet you," Barclay stammered. "This is a very daring experiment that I'm proud to be a
part--" He lifted a hand from the handlebar to offer it to Faal, but then the platform started to tilt and he
hastily put both hands back on the handle. "Oops.
Sorry about that," he muttered.
Faal eyed Barclay skeptically, and Geordi had to resist a temptation to roll his ocular implants. Barclay
always managed to make a poor first impression on people, which was too bad since, at heart, he was a
dedicated and perfectly capable crew member.
Unfortunately, his competence fluctuated in direct relationship to his confidence, which often left
something to be desired; the more insecure he got, the more he tended to screw up, which just rattled
him even more.
Geordi had taken Barclay on as a special project some years back, and the nervous crewman was
showing definite signs of progress, although some days you wouldn't know it. Just my luck, he thought,
this had to be one of Reg's off days.
"Please be careful, Lieutenant," Faal stressed to Barclay. "You're carrying the very heart of my
experiment there. Inside that cylinder is a mononuclear strand of quantum filament suspended in a
protomatter matrix. Unless the filament is aligned precisely when the torpedo releases the magneton
pulse, there will be no way to control the force and direction of the protomatter reaction. We could end
up with merely a transitory subspace fissure that would have no impact on the barrier at all."
"Understood, Professor," Barclay assured him.
"You can count on me. I'll guard this component like a mother Horta guards her eggs. Even better, in
fact, because you won't have to feed me my weight in silicon bricks." He stared at the Betazoid's
increasingly dubious expression. "Er, that was a joke. The last part, I mean, not the part about guarding
the component, because that was completely serious even if you didn't like the bit about the Hortas,
cause I understand that not everyone's fond of---" "That will be fine," Geordi interrupted, coming to
Barelay's rescue. "Just put the sphere on that table over there. Professor Faal and I need to make some
adjustments." "Got it," Barclay said, avoiding eye contact with Faal. He pushed the carrier over to an
elevated shelf strewn with delicate instruments. The antigrav platform floated a few centimeters above the
ledge of the shelf. Barday's forehead wrinkled with anxiety as he looked up and over the carrier to the
controls on the other side.
"Let me just scoot over there to even this out," he said, smiling tightly as he began to walk around the
carrier to reach the controls.
As soon as Reg took his first step, time seemed to slow down for La Forge. Geordi watched the rise and
fall of Reg's footsteps, the gangly engineer's legs grazing the platform, which he didn't give a wide enough
berth. La Forge felt his mouth open and heard his own voice utter the first word of a warning.
Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, Geordi watched with horror as Lieutenant Reginald Barclay's left elbow
plowed into the corner of the platform. The delicate equipment trembled. Reg jumped away. Geordi
instinctively covered his eyes. It was one of the few times he wished that medical science had not
restored his sight quite so efficiently.
When he finally gathered the courage to look at the equipment and assess the damage, La Forge thought
he might faint with relief. The platform had miraculously righted itself. Time sped up to its normal pace
again. He dimly heard Barclay's apologies for the near-disaster, but was more concerned for the
Betazoid scientist.
He glanced over at Professor Faal. The scientist's face had gone completely white and his mouth hung
open in dumbfounded horror. Has his disease weakened his heart? he worried. He hoped not, since Lem
Faal looked like he was about to drop dead on the spot.
He was shaking so hard that Geordi was afraid he'd fall off his stool. I wonder if I should call Dr.
Crusher?
"Urn," Barclay mumbled, staring fixedly at the floor. "Will that be all, sir?" Geordi offered a silent prayer
of thanks to the nameless gods of engineering. He had not been looking forward to telling the captain
how his team managed to completely pulverize the central component of the big experiment. He made a
mental note to have Barclay schedule a few extra sessions with Counselor Troi. Some more
self-confidence exercises were definitely in order... as well as a good talking-to.
"Watch it, Lieutenant," he said, his utter embarrassment in front of Faal adding heat to his tone.
"This operation is too important for that kind of carelessness." He disliked having to criticize one of his
officers in front of a visitor, but Barclay hadn't given him any other choice. He had to put the fear of god
into Reg, and let Professor Faal know he had the situation under control.
At least, that was the plan.
"I don't believe it!" Faal exploded, hopping off his stool to confront Barclay. His equipment might have
survived its near miss, but the professor's temper clearly had not. Faal's ashen expression gave way to a
look of utter fury. His face darkened and his eyes narrowed until his large Betazoid irises could barely be
seen. His entire body trembled. "Years of work, of planning and sacrifice, almost ruined because of this...
this imbecile!" Barclay looked absolutely stricken. Yep, Geordi thought, Deanna is definitely going to
have her work cut out for her. Barclay tried to produce another apology, but his shattered nerves left him
tongue-tied and inaudible.
"I'm sure that looked a lot worse than it actually was," Geordi said, anxious to smooth things over and
calm Faal down before he had some kind of seizure.
"Good thing we planned on rechecking all the instrumentation anyway." Faal wasn't listening. "If you only
knew what was at stake!" he shouted at Barclay. He drew back his arm and might have struck Barclay
across the face with the back of his hand had not La Forge hastily stepped between them.
"Hey!" Geordi protested. "Let's cool our phasers here. It was just an accident." Faal lowered his arm
slowly, but still glowered murderously at Barclay.
Geordi decided the best thing to do was to get Reg out of sight as fast as possible. "Lieutenant, report
back to the transporter room and see if DeCandido needs any more help. You're off of this experiment
as of now.
We'll speak more later." With a sheepish nod, the mortified crewman made a quick escape, leaving
Geordi behind to deal with the agitated Betazoid physicist. Fortunately, his violent outburst, regrettable as
it was, seemed to have dispelled much of his anger. Faal's ruddy face faded a shade or two and he
breathed in and out deeply, like a man trying to forcibly calm himself and succeeding to a degree. "My
apologies, Mr. La Forge," he said, coughing into his fist. Now that his initial tantrum was over, he seemed
to be having trouble catching his breath. He fumbled in his pocket for his hypospray, then applied it to his
arm. "I should not have lost control like that." A few seconds later, after another hacking cough, he
walked over to the shelf and laid his hand upon the sphere. "When I saw the equipment begin to tip
over... well, it was rather alarming." "I understand perfectly," Geordi answered, deciding not to make an
issue of the professor's lapse now that he seemed to have cooled off. What with his illness and all, Faal
had to be under a lot of stress. "To be honest, I wasn't feeling too great myself for a few seconds there. I
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StarTrek-TNG-Q-SpacePrologueLETMEBACKIN!Inbackmelet!Beyondthewall,hegibbered.Timemeantnothingtohim.Aninstantwasthesameasaneternity;bothweremerelysubjectivemeasuresofhisisolationandhismadness,whichbeganthemomenthewascastoutofcreationandhadbeentakingitstolleversince.Hisexilehadjustbegun,andithadlasted...

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