Chapter Seventeen
Nat lifted his lantern, straining to see over Picard's shoulder.
"The dampening field is interfering with this resonating drill," the captain said, handing the useless tool over to Riker and scooting closer to the opalescent wall, running his fingers over the lines and grooves in the metal.
Freja took the drill from the commander and turned it over in her hands, turning it on and off a few times as if to confirm Picard's diagnosis.
"So weird," she said, frowning. "All these tools have independent power cells, like the lamps, and the lamps are working just fine."
"Well, the drill is sonic," Nat said. "It could be that, apart from the electromagnetic aspect that messes with our communications and computer devices, the dampening field also emits some kind of sub- or ultra-sonic frequencies."
"Speculation," Tu'Pari said. "At least, until we get back to the compound. If the drill works there, out of range of this field, it could indicate that—"
Picard let out a slight, victorious snort.
"Find something?" Freja asked eagerly.
"It feels like…this could be an access port," the captain said distractedly. "If I can just…"
He traced his fingers over the outline of what seemed to be a rectangular panel in the opalescent metal plating that covered the wall, the reflections from the lantern light rendering it barely visible. Carefully, Picard slid his fingernails into the hairline slit, his face clenching with effort…
"Oh!" Freja gasped, covering her mouth with her fingers. "Oh, don't damage the etchings!"
"He's nowhere near the etchings," Nat said.
"We don't know that," Freja retorted. "It's only a guess that this rectangle shape is an access port. It may be a symbol, or part of a larger—"
Picard released a low grunt and a thin layer of metal came away from the wall, swinging out and to the left, like a cabinet door.
The group leaned in, eager to see what lay beyond…
"It looks like some kind of control board," Tu'Pari observed, a slightly raised eyebrow the only outward indication of his excitement. "But, the symbols are unfamiliar to me."
"To me as well," Picard said, reverently tracing the raised glyphs. "The panel appears to be constructed of the same material as the rest of this wall."
He pressed one of the symbols, and a low, resonating tone vibrated their ears.
"Interesting," Tu'Pari commented, leaning in to tap another. This time, the tone was higher, the resonance causing the dust in the air to dance in the lantern light.
"Well," Nat noted. "The dampening field didn't interfere with that."
Riker frowned.
"If I remember right," he said, "didn't the Preserver object Kirk's Enterprise encountered respond to a musical tone-based code?"
"So it did, Number One," Picard said, his eyes shining. "If all this was truly left here by the Preservers, it may be that to gain access to whatever may be behind this wall, we must first determine which tones to play—"
"And, in which order," Nat interjected. "According to the archive records I've seen, the object Kirk activated responded to the chirp of his communicator, followed by a brief, spoken phrase. What if this panel requires, not only mechanical tones, but specific vocal modulations as well?"
"A fascinating theory," Tu'Pari said, a slight frown creasing his lips. "I suggest we record holographic images of these new symbols and run them through the computer system back at the compound – well out of range of this dampening field."
"Logical," Freja said, smiling despite the disappointment in her eyes. "And, I believe, your second hint in as many minutes that it's past time we head back to the compound. Forget to eat lunch again?"
The Vulcan raised an eyebrow, but did not deny her allegation.
Freja's smile broadened briefly, then she sighed.
"Oh, well. Looks like there'll be no great breakthrough tonight after all. How's that sandstorm coming?"
"I believe it has passed," Tu'Pari said, cocking his head to listen for any lingering sign of heavy winds outside the tunnel.
"Then, we should be heading back," Picard agreed, though his expression rather mirrored Freja's reluctance to leave their discovery uncracked. "Do you need any help recording these images?"
"No, the holorecorders we have are pretty old tech – the dampening field hardly affects them at all," Nat said.
"Well, apart from those weird shadows we've seen on a few of the images," Freja noted. "But those only show up when one of us is in the shot."
"Shadows?" Picard asked curiously.
"I'll show you when we get back to the compound," Nat said, snapping a few holo images, then stepping back to allow Tu'Pari to take a few more with his own recording device. "It's no big deal, really, probably just an effect caused by the lights reflecting off this wall panel. All set, Tu'Pari?"
"I believe we have sufficient material to work with, for now," the Vulcan responded.
"Then, I'm heading out of this hole and straight to the nearest replicator," Nat said. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I've been craving a hot Reuben sandwich all day, and if I don't get one soon my brain just may go on strike."
"It must be long past suppertime by now," Freja agreed. "We all need a good meal, and we really should see how poor Kurak is doing."
"Agreed," Picard said, and gently swung the access panel door back into place, while Nat took pictures of its shape and position. "Let's each take a lantern and get going."
"Very well," Tu'Pari said, slinging his holorecorder's strap over his shoulder. "I shall see to the horses and join you directly."
"Perhaps it would be better if we all went with you to the stables," Riker suggested. "With everything that's happened today, it might not be the best idea to separate."
"I am quite capable of attending to the animals myself," Tu'Pari stated rather flatly.
"Stable duty's always been Tu'Pari's job around here," Nat explained to Picard and Riker. "It might seem a little strange, Vulcans and horses, but they seem to have developed a kind of bond."
"I believe I understand," Picard said with a small smile. "But I agree with Commander Riker. Let's all go to the stables first, then back to the compound for our supper."
The scientists muttered a little, but ultimately shrugged and led the way out of the tunnels and into a surprisingly cold, starry night.
A sleek, two-man speeder cut across the sandy desert on a direct tangent from the tents and concrete structures of the capital city to the ruined tunnels that, only hours before, had served as a key smuggling hub, the vehicle's headlights causing the sand ahead to shimmer like diamond dust.
"Hey, 'Poug." Rizzul said to the driver, rapping his knuckles against the front windshield. "Is my eye playing tricks, or does that dent in the sand up ahead look like a speeder track to you? A speeder track leading away from the tunnels?"
"Left by Nizik?" the Nausicaan supposed in his thick, heavy voice.
"Nah, that track's way too fresh," Rizzul said. "Besides, it's aimed at that giant Stairway, not the city. Maybe the big man was right about some of those Skins escaping before the tunnels collapsed."
"Then, we follow?" 'Poug inquired.
"We do if we don't want to end up like old Nizik," Rizzul said. "The Boss-man wants his property back. It's our job to collect it for him. You remember to load those phaser rifles?"
"In the back," the Nausicaan said, and thumped the back of his chair.
Rizzul reached into the dark, narrow space behind the seats and groped around until his hand grasped a cool rifle barrel. He pulled the phaser rifle up onto his lap and checked the charge, his damaged face creasing in satisfaction.
"We're set to go," he said. "Quick, 'Poug,' put on some speed! With any luck, we can bag some Skins and those Federation scientists the boss wanted before the moons begin to sink."
To Be Continued...
References include TOS: The Paradise Syndrome.
Next Time: Some Action! Stay Tuned! :)
HAPPY NEW YEAR, EVERYONE!
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