Star Trek - Requiem. Part 4

"No, sir," reported Varley. "We're fine. This'll just take another minute, Commander."

Suddenly, another surge channeled through the station. With it came a resounding crash, and Picard watched as a heavy door slammed down between him and the three engineers.

"d.a.m.n!" exclaimed La Forge.

As the door hit the deck, the captain's hand was reaching for his communicator. "Commander Riker," Picard said.

"Riker here, Captain. We just read another surge. This one was off the scales for a moment. Are you in any danger?"

Picard exchanged looks with his chief engineer. "So far we're uninjured, but Geordi and I have been separated from the rest of the engineering team. Have the transporter beam all of us over now."

"Yes, sir," came Riker's crisp reply. "We'll have you ... one moment sir." The captain could hear his exec speaking to Data in the background. "Sir," Riker continued, "we've got a problem maintaining a transporter lock... ."

Suddenly, another surge coursed through the station. For a moment the interior lights flashed on. Picard and Geordi were bathed in a harsh, white light as the visible burst of energy raced through the walls.

For a second or two, Riker's voice was replaced by static. Then it returned. "... suggests that the area you are in may be s.h.i.+elded. Can you all move to one of the outer chambers by a window?"

"I'll call you when we're there. Picard out." The captain saw that Geordi had his tricorder out and was already working on the door.

After a moment, the engineer shook his head. "The mechanism is simple," he remarked, eyeing the small control panel next to the door. "But there's no power. If we hold the control and wait for another surge, we might ..."

Picard waved the suggestion away. "Too long. We don't know when or if another surge will happen, or if there will be enough power when it does. What about phasers?"

Geordi drew his phaser at the same moment the captain did. "I suggest we stand back, sir."

They took a position a few steps back.

"Setting five, to start," ordered Picard, as he adjusted his weapon. Geordi did the same. Then the captain tapped his communicator. "Mr. Barclay, lead your team as far away from the door as possible. We're going to try to get you out with phasers."

"Yes, sir," came the reply. "We're clear, sir."

On Picard's nod, the two men fired simultaneously. The captain watched as the two red beams leapt from the phasers, struck the door ... and disappeared.

Geordi's tricorder was immediately in his other hand. He scanned it quickly. "The wall just absorbed and dissipated the beams, Captain. We can try force ten, but I wouldn't go any higher in here."

A moment later, they tried again at the higher setting. Two brighter beams struck the door and also disappeared into its surface. This time, he and Geordi maintained their fire for several seconds. Finally, on Picard's signal, they ceased firing. Except for a brief glow of red that disappeared almost immediately, the door was undamaged.

The engineer frowned. "Somehow, the structure is dissipating the energy throughout the wall-actually, throughout this entire area. Even if we could get through, it would take a while."

"Are there any other exits out of that room?" Picard asked.

"There's another access tunnel," La Forge replied, "on the far side of the control room. It cuts into the corridor maybe a hundred meters farther down-though there may be a door blocking off that way, too."

The captain frowned. "Couldn't they tell that from inside?"

Tapping his communicator, the engineer said: "Reg, the access tunnel at the far end of the room ... is it still open?"

A pause. "Yes, sir," came the response. "It seems to be."

Geordi nodded. "Good. Then exit that way. We'll meet you in the corridor outside."

At that moment, Picard heard the brief hum that he now a.s.sociated with the onset of an energy spike. A moment later, the surge came, and with it the rush of interior illumination. The captain watched as lights snapped on and off again down the long corridor.

"Come on," he told his companion.

Together, he and La Forge covered the hundred or so meters in a matter of seconds. Reaching the aperture of the second access tunnel, Picard looked inside and saw that the way was clear. He could discern the shadowy shapes of the three engineers as they made their way into it from the control room.

However, this tunnel was a good deal longer than the other one, and darker as well. It would take Barclay and the others several more minutes to negotiate.

Peering in over the captain's shoulder, Geordi muttered a curse. "This is going to take longer than I'd hoped," he observed.

Nonetheless, in a matter of moments, the engineers were slithering through the tunnel, their handlamps flas.h.i.+ng back and forth as they moved. Before long, Picard could make out the taut, frightened face of engineer Martina O'Connor peeking out at him. Spying the captain up ahead, she managed to move a little faster.

Picard would have met her partway, considering all the equipment she was dragging behind her. However, there wasn't room in the tunnel for both of them. And a couple of seconds later, she was emerging into the corridor anyway.

Ensign Varley was next. He pa.s.sed out his load of technical devices, then squirmed out to the mouth of the tunnel. The captain had just enough time to recognize his young, earnest features when another surge came, this time without the precursor hum.

Varley had barely dragged half his body out when the hatch above him began sliding down. Noting the flash of motion, La Forge reacted quickly, diving for the small control panel next to the access tunnel-hoping to prevent what had happened at the other opening.

He was quick enough to raise the hatch before the power went out-but not to prevent it from briefly meeting with the floor, despite the fact that Ensign Varley's midsection was directly under it.

Picard looked on in horror. The young man hadn't even had time to scream as the door efficiently cut him in half. Varley's face registered just a brief, ghastly flicker of surprise before the light went out of his eyes.

"My G.o.d," the captain breathed. Geordi and O'Connor couldn't even do that.

Picard pushed away his frustration and rising grief for the young man. Barclay was still in there. And his away team was still in danger.

And then a cry filled the chamber. Loud, piercing, nearly hysterical.

"Mr. Barclay," Picard shouted over the man's wail. "You have to come through. Now." The effect was immediate. Barclay stopped screaming. But the captain, who had stooped to look into the tunnel, saw that the engineer wasn't moving. He was just looking at Varley's bisected body in mute terror.

Recognizing that the corpse wouldn't give Barclay enough room to get through, the captain reached in and, as quickly and gently as he could, dragged Varley's remains out of the tunnel. Geordi was right behind him, helping.

In a calm, even tone, the captain addressed Barclay. "Lieutenant, exit this tunnel now." But the man had a.s.sumed a sitting position against the tunnel wall and was inching backward. "Stop," Picard ordered. The engineer stopped. "Move out now," the captain continued.

"But sir ... the hatch ..." a motionless Barclay said in a frightened near-whisper. Seeing where the lieutenant was pointing, Picard looked up and realized that the hatch, with its b.l.o.o.d.y bottom edge, was directly above him.

In an instant, the captain reviewed his options and took the quickest course. Crawling inside the tunnel, he reached for Barclay, grabbed the engineer by the arm, and pulled. Nearly limp, Barclay moved easily and Picard had them both out in a few minutes.

Pulling him to his feet, the captain addressed the engineer directly. "Are you all right, Lieutenant?"

Picard noted that the question registered immediately. Barclay nodded, and then said, "Yes, sir."

With that, the captain slapped his communicator. "Number One, emergency transport now."

The response was not encouraging. "Captain, we're still getting interference ... almost continuous, low-level power readings from the station that are creating a corresponding low-level subs.p.a.ce field. We can't risk transport."

Picard realized that the room's illumination had come on. The light was low, but fairly steady.

"Captain," Riker continued, "I can have a shuttle there in four minutes. Sensors indicate a large chamber that looks like an airlock one thousand meters from your position."

Geordi already had his tricorder out. "I know where it is, sir."

"We'll meet your shuttle, Number One. Picard out."

The captain turned to the others. "Mr. Barclay, can you travel?"

The engineer was obviously still shaken, but mustered a nod. "Yes, sir. I'm fine, sir."

"Mr. La Forge," Picard said, "we'll follow you."

Geordi led them down the hallway at a trot. Picard had time to wonder how they would get into the airlock, open it to the outside, and get into the shuttle. Then they reached the entrance to the airlock. The archway was open, and the captain could see that the outer door on the other side of the chamber was closed.

The interior lights were getting stronger. With luck, they would be able to work the airlock. The captain hoped it was still operating, and that it had the kind of forcefield that would allow the shuttle to enter and exit-but not void the atmosphere and the away team into s.p.a.ce. Of course, at the moment, they had no choice but to try.

"Let's get inside," he barked. "Commander La Forge, give yourself a crash course in the alien airlock system." The engineer nodded and entered the airlock. O'Connor followed, and Barclay brought up the rear. Picard made his move just as another surge coursed through the station. This time, the captain could actually feel the walls shake. Suddenly, the floor moved out from under him and he was thrown backward.

Picard landed on his back-hard-and realized that the fall had probably saved his life. He saw the heavy door to the airlock slam shut with a resounding clang, right in the spot he'd occupied only a moment ago.

He was on his feet quickly. From the window in the door to the airlock, the captain could instantly see why the door had closed so suddenly. The semitransparent barrier that separated the interior of the airlock from open s.p.a.ce had raised perhaps a foot from the deck.

Geordi and the others were on the ground struggling for handholds on the almost perfectly smooth surface of the airlock floor. Based on their slow movement toward the barrier, Picard was certain that there was no forcefield holding in the atmosphere.

And judging by the size of the opening, Picard knew the away team had less than ninety seconds to live.

"Picard to shuttlecraft, where are you?"

"Worf here, sir. We are less than two minutes from your position, Captain."

"We have an emergency, Mr. Worf. You'll have to do better than that."

Picard could hear Worf issue the order for full acceleration. He imagined the rescue crew being shaken as the inertial dampeners were pressed just past their limits.

"Lieutenant," he went on, "most of the away team is in an airlock which is now partially open to s.p.a.ce. They do not have long."

"I've got a sensor lock, Captain," Worf announced-just as the shuttle swept into sight less than a hundred meters from the station.

Picard felt his teeth grating together. "Get as close as you can and lock on the shuttle's emergency transporters. You may be able to punch through the station's interference by lining up the transporter beam with the open door."

"Locking on transporters now," came the Klingon's clipped reply. "Where are you, sir?"

"I'm in a protected area, safe for now." The captain saw that Barclay and O'Connor were both less than two meters from the open airlock door with Geordi just behind them. They had seconds left now, and were all moving slowly, as if they were already suffering from the effects of the rapidly diminis.h.i.+ng atmosphere.

Picard hit the controls to the door separating him from his people again, but it didn't budge. He recognized that the effort was futile-there was nothing he could do on the inside. Their fate was in Worf's hands now.

"Lieutenant, get them aboard that shuttle. That's an order!" the captain barked, enduring the frustration of watching the team's final struggle.

"Yes, sir," the Klingon replied evenly. And then the security chief made good on his word. Picard saw the s.h.i.+mmering of the transporter effect-and a moment later, the team disappeared.

"Mr. Worf?" the captain asked hopefully.

"They are aboard, and apparently sound, sir," said the security chief. The captain let out a long breath.

"Excellent work, Lieutenant. Excellent work." Picard saw the lights in the station flicker again, tentatively, and then attain a steady, if low, illumination.

"Captain, we are having difficulty locking transporters on to you. The structure of the station seems to be interfering with the transporter beam. If you can open the inner door to the airlock, we should be able to beam you aboard before-"

Picard cut him off. "I am afraid not, Mr. Worf. The controls are frozen, even though the station seems to have minimal power."

Suddenly, the captain's comm badge activated. "Sir, Riker here. Maybe the Enterprise would have more luck. If we come in closer, our transporters may be able to get through the interference."

"All right, Number One," Picard replied. "But proceed with caution. And take the Enterprise out of the area if there is any sign of danger. The station seems to be behaving erratically, at best. That goes for you too, Mr. Worf."

"Yes, sir," came their simultaneous replies.

Waiting, the captain saw that the level of illumination in the station was rising steadily. And the humming had resumed along with the occasional flash of power along lines in the ceiling, floor, and walls.

In the distance, Picard could see the Enterprise approaching on a direct line to the airlock. As the humming rose, louder than any time previously, he felt a growing sense of ... unease. This rise in power seemed different than the other, previous surges, which were short in buildup and duration.

This increase seemed to be slower in coming, and the telltale hum deeper, more resounding.

Fortunately, the Enterprise was only a few thousand meters away. Picard decided that he would be glad to have this whole business resolved.

"Captain," Riker said. "Power readings are very high ..." The voice disappeared into static: "... interference curve ..." was the only other phrase he could make out clearly. The humming was thunderous now, as flashes of power ran through the panels of the station.

Something is going to happen, Picard thought with certainty.

"Commander Riker, remove the Enterprise to a safe distance now. Mr. Worf, do the same." The captain spoke into his communicator but could hear no discernible reply.

Watching out the small window, he could see the Enterprise and the shuttle clearly, and neither seemed to be moving. But the airlock's large, outer barrier was once again in motion. It rose quickly, and suddenly the airlock was completely open to s.p.a.ce. It made little difference, Picard thought. The atmosphere was probably already gone.

He had only a flash of warning in the form of a momentary hiss-and then the door in front of him flew open as well.

The captain's arms flew outward and caught the doorway on each side, keeping him from being cast into s.p.a.ce. But the pressure from behind was terrific, and the roar of air competed with the now deafening hum of the energy throbbing through the station.

As Picard felt his arms yielding to the outrush of the station's atmosphere, he hoped that the Enterprise would be able to lock on transporters quickly. He wouldn't last long in open s.p.a.ce.

Briefly, he considered trying to pull himself into the corridor and escape into the interior of the station, but his arms were nearly exhausted. He was barely able to fight the flow of air as it was.

The captain guessed that he had less than a minute before he lost his battle and submitted to the inevitable. He began to hyperventilate intentionally, knowing that he would need to oxygenate his blood as much as possible to ensure maximum survival time in the vacuum of s.p.a.ce.

But his efforts were cut short when something slammed into his right arm and shoulder. He registered the blow as a fleeting pressure, and then he felt himself flying through the airlock toward the open door.

In the same instant, he saw the station convulse around him, shaking as another surge of white energy shot through the superstructure. But this surge didn't dissipate. Instead it seemed to continue and grow. In that last instant, Picard was certain that the vacuum of s.p.a.ce was the least of his troubles-and then a blast of whiteness took him.