Chapter 2

Captain's Log: The Enterprise, formerly en route to Starbase 718, has been called off track. We have received a distress call from a Federation colony on the planet Koshka IX in the Ruibisystem, resulting, we believe, from some kind of natural disaster, possibly seismic in nature. We will not know more until we arrive. Meanwhile our engineering crew and chief medical officer will be making preparations for a broad array of possible situations.

Picard tugged at the hem of his shirt, then tapped his communicator. "Bridge to sickbay."

A few seconds later, a woman's voice responded. "Dr. Crusher here. What is it?"

"We've received a distress call from a nearby planet. We're going to need an emergency medical team in about an hour and a half."

"I'm on it, Captain. Keep me posted."

"Of course, Doctor. Bridge out." Satisfied, Picard settled back in his command chair. There was little more that he could do until they got closer.

"I've found some information on Koshka IX, Captain."

Picard turned to face the young scientist, eyebrows raised in curiosity. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

She turned towards him, though he noticed that she did not look him in the eye. "Class M planet – no history of tectonic activity within the colony's records, but early colonists located a chain of extinct volcanoes, so seismic activity is definitely a possibility. And it looks like there's a fault line running right underneath the Federation outpost."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." He sighed and got up. "I'll be in my ready room. You have the bridge, Number One." He walked across the bridge and disappeared into his ready room.

An hour later, Picard emerged and took up his seat again in the command chair. "Now approaching Koshka IX, sir," Worf reported. "I'm not reading any other ships in the area."

"Thank you, Mr. Worf. Helm, bring us into geosynchronous orbit over the colony," Picard ordered.

"Aye sir. Geosynchronous orbit," Wesley replied, tapping at his console.

"Sir," Worf interjected, "I am attempting to contact the colony, but I'm getting no response. Their equipment must be down."

"Then let's beam down and find out what's going on down there," Riker responded. "Worf, Data, you're with me." The three of them strode rapidly towards the turbolift. "Transporter deck," Riker said as the doors slid shut. He tapped his communicator badge. "Riker to Dr. Crusher, please have your medical team meet us in transporter room 4."

"We're on our way, Commander," came the doctor's reply.

The two teams converged in the transporter room. "I'm beaming you into the center of the village," Miles O'Brien explained. "Be careful; if there's seismic activity at the moment of transport, you could lose your balance."

"Understood," Riker acknowledged, as the last person stepped onto the pad. "Energize." The air shimmered and danced around the seven-member team in glittering columns as transport began.

The air shimmered in the village square as the away team materialized. There was debris everywhere, and most of the buildings were in bad shape, though few had actually collapsed. The shell-shocked colonists were beginning to come out to see what was left of their homes. Data pulled out his tricorder, as the medical team dispersed to treat the injured colonists. "I'm picking up very little seismic activity at present, but the previous quake measured around a 7.3 on Earth's Richter scale."

"That's a pretty big quake," Riker said, whistling.

Data nodded. "And you should also be aware that quakes of this magnitude result in a very high probability of aftershocks."

"Damn," Riker muttered. "Now what?" But his years in Starfleet had taught him to think quickly. He tapped his communicator. "Riker to Enterprise."

"This is the Enterprise," Picard answered. "What have you found, Commander?"

"There's been some major seismic activity down here. It's quiet now, but Commander Data says we're likely to see some aftershocks. Recommend we beam survivors up to the ship until we can decide what to do long-term."

"Make it so, Number One. Enterprise out."

The medical team was treating a lot of concussions and broken bones. As soon as patients were stabilized, they were beamed aboard the Enterprise. Critical cases were beamed straight to the ship's sickbay, where the assistant chief medical officer was standing by, maintaining an open comm link with Dr. Crusher.

Meanwhile, the away team scrambled through the rubble, freeing colonists who had been trapped under falling debris and getting them beamed back to the ship as well. Five hours after they had beamed down to the surface, the away team approached the last house in the village. "I am picking up life sign readings," Data said, looking up from his tricorder.

"The door is stuck," Worf said, grunting in exertion as he tried it. He stepped aside. Data returned his tricorder to his belt and forced the door open.

The officers walked in and carefully looked around. A woman, perhaps 30 years old, was lying facedown under a pile of rubble. Riker hurried over and felt for a pulse. "She's alive. Unconscious, and her pulse is shaky, but alive." He tapped his communicator. "Riker to Dr. Crusher."

"Dr. Crusher here. What is it Will?"

"We've got a potential medical emergency." Worf and Data cleared away the fallen debris on top of her as Riker spoke.

"I'll be right there. Transporter chief, lock me onto his signal." The air near Riker shimmered as Dr. Crusher materialized and hurried over to the woman. "She's got a nasty concussion and some internal bleeding in the lower extremities, but she's not critical yet," the doctor said, putting down her tricorder. "Transporter chief, beam her directly to sickbay." The air glittered as the unconscious woman disappeared.

A noise in the next room attracted the team's attention. Riker eased the door open, and the four officers walked in. A small child sat on the floor, holding a teddy bear. When he saw the adults, he immediately hid behind a chair, rocking slightly.

Dr. Crusher crouched down to his eye level. "It's all right," she called. "We're here to help you." The little boy winced and covered his ears, as if the sound had hurt him. He kept on rocking. She tried to approach him, but he ducked further out of sight.

The doctor walked back towards the away team, motioning them out of the room. "It's no use," she said. "He's terrified. I doubt he'll even let me get close enough to use a tricorder, let alone beam him back to the ship."

"Chief O'Brien could probably get a lock on him without one of us nearby," Worf pointed out.

Dr. Crusher shook her head. "Yes, but I don't want to stress him unnecessarily. If he's this upset in his own home, imagine what suddenly finding himself on a starship would do."

"We cannot remain here much longer, however," Data interrupted, studying his tricorder. "I am detecting a buildup in seismic activity. I predict another quake within two hours."

"Damn." The doctor's expletive seemed to cover the situation pretty neatly.

"Wait." The rest of the group turned toward Riker, realizing that the first officer had been silent for several minutes, lost in thought. "Something about this seems familiar somehow…Where have I seen this before?" He thought for a moment. "Of course. Worf, Data, make sure there's nobody else in the house. Dr. Crusher, keep an eye on the child. If you feel any tremors, beam everyone up immediately. I think I know of someone who can help." He tapped his communicator. "Riker to Enterprise. One to beam up." The air shimmered and he was gone.

Riker strode onto the bridge covered in dirt and dust and a few small scratches, but little the worse for wear.

"Is there a problem, Number One?" Picard asked, knowing full well that if there hadn't been a problem, his first officer would have taken the time to change into clean clothes and remove the dirt smeared across his face.

"Not yet," Riker replied, "but in about two hours there will be. Captain, may I speak to you and Lieutenant Green for a moment?"

"Of course." Riker and Ruthie followed Picard across the bridge to his ready room. "What's the trouble, Commander?" Picard asked once they had sat down.

"There's a child down there, scared out of his wits."

"One can hardly blame him for that," Picard interrupted. "And I doubt he's the only one."

"Agreed, on both counts. But he hides every time we try to approach him, we can't get near him. And Commander Data says we can expect another quake within two hours."

"That is a problem, Number One," Picard agreed.

"Where do I come in, Commander?" Ruthie asked.

"I'm no expert, Lieutenant, but I think he might be autistic," Riker replied. "He's rocking, and he's squinting even though the light isn't that bright. He isn't making eye contact, either. And he covers his ears when we try to talk to him, as if the noise hurts his ears. It reminded me of the way you reacted this morning to the radio disturbance. No offense intended."

"None taken, Commander," Ruthie replied. "It sounds like he probably does have some form of autism or something similar. And, even if he doesn't, the solution is probably more or less the same."

"I was hoping you could give us some tips for approaching him."

Ruthie sighed and shook her head. "I could. But no list that I or anyone else could give you will substitute for experience. That takes considerably more time than we have. I can only think of one practical solution."

Riker looked at her expectantly; he had a pretty good guess of what she was going to say. "What's that?"

Ruthie straightened up in her chair. "Request permission to join the away team."

Riker's guess had been correct; he'd been afraid it might come down to this. "Are you supposed to be on away missions with that broken wrist, Lieutenant?" he asked, looking pointedly at the wrist brace Ruthie was wearing.

"Probably not," she shrugged, glancing at the brace. Then for the first time, her green eyes met Riker's blue ones, much to his surprise. "I'll deal with the consequences of that later, Commander. Right now there's a little boy down there, and it sounds like he's probably in total meltdown mode. I've been there, and it's not something I'd wish on my worst enemy, let alone a child. My own stupidity can wait. I want to get that child up here without causing him any more stress. We're running out of time."

Riker considered that a moment, then sighed and tapped his communicator. "Riker to Dr. Crusher."

"Dr. Crusher here."

"Does Lieutenant Green have your permission to beam down to the surface?"

The doctor considered this a moment. "Ideally, no, she shouldn't. But we're running out of both options and time, and she's probably our best bet. And I expect she's probably being rather insistent." She sighed. "I suppose it's fine as long as she doesn't try to lift anything." Riker raised a questioning eyebrow at Ruthie.

"Don't worry, Sir, I'll be good," Ruthie said, rolling her eyes. "We'd better get down there, we don't have a lot of time and I doubt I can do this in five minutes."

"Fine. Permission granted. Let's go." The two officers strode towards the turbolift, barely hearing Picard call, "Good luck." Just as they reached the lift, Riker turned to Ruthie. "Have you got everything you need?"

"Yes."

"Good," he said as the doors hissed closed. "Transporter deck."

As the officers hurried toward the transporter room, Ruthie took out the sunglasses that had been clipped to her waistband and put them on. "What are those for?" Riker asked.

"I don't know how people stand to look at transporter beams," she said with a sheepish grin. "Ouch." They turned and walked into the transporter room, meeting the other three medical team members on their way out.

"I'm beaming you back to the same coordinates you just beamed up from, Commander," O'Brien explained, tapping at the console as Riker and Ruthie stepped up onto the pad. "Energize."