"Quite a place," said Picard thoughtfully. "I hope we can keep it intact."

"Yes, sir," answered Reg, lowering his head. "What if we can't? How can we save them all?"

The captain's lips thinned. "We'll do the best we can. Whatever happens to them will happen to us, too."

"But the ship would survive shutting down the sh.e.l.l." He pointed at the happy clutch of Elaysians hovering around Melora. "They know that we're not at risk the same way they are."

"I don't intend to watch them all die," said Picard gravely. He looked up and smiled as their hostess returned with two small canteens with sip tubes.

"We don't need much water," said Dupanza, "but I know that other humanoids are not so fortunate. Please drink."

"Thank you," said the two humans at once. Barclay took a few gulps, surprised at how thirsty he was. The water had a slight sulfuric smell, although maybe that was his imagination. He hoped it wasn't contaminated by the dark crystal.

"So where are you staying?" asked Dupanza.

"On our ship," answered the captain.

"Such a great distance to travel," said the Elaysian, shaking her head. "Especially now, when travel is so difficult. Why don't you stay here a while and make this your base of operations. We're much closer to all the enclaves than your ship is, way up there along the sh.e.l.l. You have gravity on your shuttlecraft, so you'll be comfortable."

"We might consider it," agreed Picard.

Reg saw more Elaysians surrounding Melora, bombarding her with questions and greetings, and she was beaming in the glow of their attention. "You just want to keep Melora around longer," said the lieutenant.

Dupanza nodded wistfully as she watched her prodigal daughter. "That's true. She really has blossomed while she's been in Starfleet. I knew she would mature to be beautiful and confident, but this is beyond even what I envisioned. She was home once before, but I was working on the sh.e.l.l and didn't see her then."

"What did you do there?" asked Reg.

Dupanza gazed into the distance, and her eyes grew misty. "I was an a.s.sistant to your predecessor, Zuka Juno. It's painful to hear about his death. He wasn't ill, was he? Can you tell me anything?"

"We were the ones who found him," answered Picard. He told her briefly what had happened, adding that they wouldn't really know anything until the Jeptah had finished their investigation.

"Then I don't think you'll know anything," whispered Dupanza. "The Jeptah are very secretive, and they like to control things. They're honest and hardworking, but they don't really trust anyone but each other." She smiled at Reg. "They must be apoplectic over your having that gem."

Barclay gulped and touched the violet crystal. "That's true, they weren't very happy. I really don't know what to do with this thing."

"You wield tremendous power with that crystal," answered the elder Elaysian. "Be honest and true to your ideals. I think we could use a jolt of fresh thinking here on Gemworld. We've never faced a crisis like this before, but I imagine you have faced many crises during your exploration of the stars."

"We have," answered Reg, lifting his chin proudly. "We'll do the best we can for you."

"That's all we could ask." Dupanza gazed fondly at Melora, who was engaged in animated conversation with a large group of Elaysians. The younger ones regarded her with rapt attention. "You've brought our daughter back to us, for which I am very grateful."

Picard's combadge chirped, interrupting their idyllic respite. "Excuse me." He tapped his badge. "Picard here."

"Captain," said the unmistakable voice of Com mander Data, "we are almost ready to perform the procedure. I advise you to return as soon as possible."

"We're on our way," said the captain. "Picard out." He gave his hostess an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, but it appears that we have to be going."

"So soon? Before the feast?" she asked with disappointment. "Do you promise to return to us?"

"If circ.u.mstances permit," answered the captain. "Would you please inform Lieutenant Pazlar that we have to be going?"

"I will. Thank you for all you're doing to help us." Dupanza used the netting to work her way to the crowd gathered around Melora, and the two women conferred for a moment. After a quick hug, Melora joined her shipmates.

"Are we ready to shut down the dimensional rift?" she asked confidently.

"I hope so," answered Picard, concern etched into his furrowed brow. "I sincerely hope so."

Picard, Barclay, and Pazlar were met by Data at the Ninth Processing Gate, and Barclay was amused to see that the android had procured himself a hoverplatform.

"You must rank," said Reg, pointing to the self-propelled disk.

Data c.o.c.ked his head puzzledly. "I do not 'rank.' Infact, with your temporary t.i.tle, you outrank me. The hoverplatform makes transportation much more efficient, and we have a considerable distance to travel within the sh.e.l.l."

"Are they still on schedule?" asked Picard.

"Yes. The Alpusta are in final preparations for their s.p.a.ce walk. Although I am unfamiliar with the actual procedure they will use to tap into the collectors, the theory is sound. If they can pa.s.s one variable to the program, the darkmatter collectors will switch to collecting hydrogen."

"Is there a backup plan?" asked Reg.

"No," answered the android. "We have studied every feasible option, and nothing else will correct the problem without disrupting the operation of the sh.e.l.l. Short of finding the engineer who actually corrupted the program, this is our only option."

"It will work," insisted Melora.

Captain Picard nodded grimly. "I hope you're right. Lead on, Data."

"Link hands," said the android.

By this time, they were accustomed to linking up, and Barclay smiled as he held out his hand to Melora. This part of being weightless he was beginning to like. Data gripped the hoverplatform with one hand and Captain Picard's hand with the other, and they were soon moving steadily through the tubular corridors of the sh.e.l.l. As they plunged deeper, Reg noticed fewer workers than before, and he saw no Alpusta at all. He had the feeling that everyone and everything was in a holding pattern as they waited for the plan to take effect.

Eventually they entered a large, oval-shaped corridor that was packed with yellow-garbed Jeptah hovering in front of a panoramic window. The Elaysians parted to allow the visitors to enter, and Tangre Bertoran pushed off the wall and glided toward them.

The Peer of the Jeptah was grinning confidently. "Ah, Captain Picard, Lieutenant Pazlar, and our esteemed Acting Senior Engineer-welcome. We've missed you, Captain, where have you been?"

"I took them to see my enclave," said Melora, "and meet my parents."

Bertoran clapped his hands together, looking delighted at that news. "Wonderful! I'm so happy that you're taking time to see our beautiful planet. After we're done here, you'll be able to travel anywhere on Gemworld and see all of our attractions. Perhaps you'd like to visit my enclave."

"I certainly hope so," said Picard with a polite smile. "May I ask, have you discovered the cause of Zuka Juno's death?"

Bertoran scowled. "I've been rather busy, Captain. When we're done here, I'll get an update."

"Even after we solve this problem," said Picard, "we still have to find out who corrupted the program in the first place."

The Jeptah shook his head. "We'll have plenty of time to solve that little mystery after life gets back to normal. Trust me, this will never happen again-the darkmatter collectors will stay off-line indefinitely."

"That is wise," concluded Data.

Tangre Bertoran motioned to the window and its expansive view of the star-sprinkled void beyond. "We'll give you the best vantage point in the house. In brief, here's what you'll see: the Alpusta engineers are going to use portable devices to tap directly into the collectors. At the exact same moment, we'll pa.s.s a variable to every collector and end all of this madness. Then we'll have time to play detective, for as long as you wish, Captain."

"I only wish to see the crisis over," said Picard.

"It will be. Don't go anywhere-we'll be starting soon. Excuse me." Tangre Bertoran flew off to confer with his fellow engineers, leaving the four crewmembers gathered at the window, surrounded by milling Jeptah.

Data lowered his voice to say, "Although I am satisfied with their plan, I am not as confident as they are."

"They have to be confident," said Barclay. "They haven't got much choice." n.o.body argued with him.

The four visitors gazed out the window at a vast array of scoops and dishes aimed toward s.p.a.ce. The rows of collectors stretched into infinity, and Reg realized why there were no Alpusta at their regular posts-they were all needed for this procedure. It was hard to imagine that the peaceful starscape outside the sh.e.l.l harbored a deadly singularity, but the proof was all around him in hushed conversations and concerned looks. Only Tangre Bertoran, in his role as head cheerleader, seemed totally confident.

They floated in front of the window for several minutes, as the crowd of Elaysians increased in number. Melora gripped Reg's hand and gave him a brave smile, which he returned as best he could. There wasn't really anything any of them could say-the fate of billions of beings depended on what happened in the next few minutes.

Finally a chime sounded, and the conversation dropped to an expectant murmur as Tangre Bertoran rose above the crowd.

"It is time!" he announced. "May we please have quiet. Extend the forcefields!" He nodded to an a.s.sistant stationed at the only console in the room.

Although nothing looked different outside the sh.e.l.l, Barclay could well imagine the forcefield extending several meters into s.p.a.ce. Both he and Melora pressed closer to the window to get a better look, and her grip on his hand tightened.

"Signal the Alpusta!" ordered Bertoran.

Hatches opened on the s.p.a.ce side of the sh.e.l.l, and an army of spidery Alpusta swarmed out, bouncing across the pitted surface of the sh.e.l.l. Reg had seen environmental suits on humanoids, but he had never seen suits on such oddly shaped creatures. Their long, spindly legs were covered in white material with metallic boots, and their spiny, headless bodies were encased in breathing tubes. The way they labored across the sh.e.l.l, Reg a.s.sumed their boots must be magnetic. Under normal circ.u.mstances, they would use their weblike extensions, but they couldn't risk that with such a shallow forcefield. The rift would do to them what it had almost done to the Enterprise.

As he looked closer, Barclay realized that each Alpusta had an electronic device strapped to one leg. Each was apparently a.s.signed to a single scoop, and they fanned out across the vast field of collectors. Tangre Bertoran issued orders as he hovered over his chief technician, but everyone else who was gathered around the window fell silent. It was unlikely, thought Reg, that any of them had ever seen a sight like this before-thousands of Alpusta scrambling across the s.p.a.ce side of the ancient sh.e.l.l.

Picard whispered to Data, "How long can they stay out there before being adversely affected?"

"The forcefields block ninety-four percent of the thoron radiation," answered the android. "Even so, our best estimate is that they can remain in s.p.a.ce no longer than fourteen minutes before suffering irreversible cell damage."

Barclay gazed out the window, now realizing why the Alpusta were hurrying to reach their a.s.signed positions. Unfortunately, they had to tap into the system in unison, so they had to wait until every technician was in place. Although it only took a few minutes, the time seemed interminable before the technician at the console announced they were all in position.

Tangre Bertoran hovered close to the terminal, and his amplified voice rang out across the room. "All stations reporting ready. Stand by for countdown!"

While Bertoran methodically counted down, Reg watched in amazement as the agile Alpusta manipulated the wires on their portable devices. Such maneuvers were easy for them, he decided, because they were used to low gravity.

"Connect!" ordered Bertoran. Like machines, the Alpusta moved in unison to jack into the collectors. "Transmit!"

There was no explosion, no sparks, no fireworks-but Reg knew something dreadful had happened. The Alpusta closest to the window suddenly went limp and slumped over-only their magnetic boots kept them from floating away. All across the forest of dishes and scoops, the Alpusta collapsed. A few managed to unplug and scurry away in time, but hundreds of them weren't so lucky.

"Feed-coil overload!" shouted Bertoran in alarm. "Disconnect! Disconnect!"

The Elaysians began to shout and mill around in panic. Barclay was jostled and knocked away from the window, but he saw Data soaring toward the console. The android pushed the stunned technican out of the way and took over the board, his fingers flying across the controls.

In the chaos, Reg crawled his way through Elaysians to get back to the window, hoping the scene outside had somehow changed for the better. But not a single Alpusta was moving, except for a handful of limp beings whose magnetic boots had failed them. They bobbed slowly in s.p.a.ce, tethered by the wires on their portable devices.

Reg heard weeping, and he turned to see Melora staring out the window. Tears seeped from her reddened eyes and floated in the air like slow-motion raindrops.

"This is the end," she murmured. "It's the end of everything."

Chapter Sixteen.

"GET THEM INSIDE!" shouted Tangre Bertoran, pointing frantically out the window at the horrendous sight of thousands of unconscious Alpusta marooned on the s.p.a.ce side of the sh.e.l.l. Their limp bodies floated in the low gravity like seaweed at the bottom of a calm ocean; only their magnetic boots kept them from floating away. The blackness of s.p.a.ce surrounded them like a funeral shroud.

There's no way to get to get them back, thought Reg Barclay. He put his arm around Melora Pazlar and tried to comfort her, but her face was frozen in grief and shock. Over the din of terrified Elaysians, he heard Captain Picard's voice. "Picard to Enterprise!"

"Riker here."

"We've got an emergency," said the captain. "If you lock onto my signal, you'll find several thousand Al pusta in my vicinity, just outside the sh.e.l.l. Can you beam any of them to safety?"

"Just one moment, sir," replied the commander. It seemed hours before he replied, "Sorry, Captain, but we can't transport through their forcefield. Besides, we don't pick up any lifesigns outside the ship."

"No lifesigns?" echoed Picard. He glanced at Barclay, and the engineer gulped. They both knew what "no lifesigns" meant, and so did everyone within earshot.

"They're all dead!" wailed an Elaysian near them. Heartfelt cries of anguish rent the air, and Reg had never felt so helpless in his entire life.

Captain Picard clawed his way through the milling, weeping throng to reach Data, who was still working the lone console in the room. Reg didn't want to leave Melora, who appeared to be in shock, but he had to see if he could do anything to help. Following in the captain's wake, he reached the console a few moments after heard.

"Data, is it true they're all dead?" asked the captain.

"These instruments do not furnish that information," answered the android. "Considering the intensity of the feed-coil overload, the increase in thoron radiation, and the weakening of the forcefield, it is unlikely they could survive. A few of them disconnected in time and were able to reach safety, but that is a relatively small number."

"What happened?" asked Barclay.

"I can suggest a theory. The overload was programmed to occur if any attempt was made to disable the collectors. Our unknown adversary antic.i.p.ated that we would use this solution to correct the corrupted programs, and they took action to prevent it. We are dealing with a mastermind."

Picard scowled. "They're one step ahead of us at every turn ... and they don't mind killing everybody on Gemworld to get what they want."

"What do they want?" asked Reg with frustration.

"To kill everyone on the planet," said a feminine voice. Reg looked up to see Melora hovering above them. Her eyes were still red from crying, but a fierce anger burned in those pale orbs.

"W-Why don't we use the Enterprise to destroy all the collection dishes?" asked Reg.

Data c.o.c.ked his head. "Due to the rift, we are unable to position the Enterprise outside the sh.e.l.l. Due to the forcefields, we are unable to fire at the collectors from inside the sh.e.l.l. As before, we are left with only one viable solution: disabling the sh.e.l.l."

"Which isn't possible," snapped Melora, "without killing almost everyone on the planet. It's a choice between a fast death without any air, or a slow death as the planet disintegrates around us."

"The likelihood is that," replied Data, "increased thoron radiation will kill everyone before the planet disintegrates."

"Thank goodness for that!" said Pazlar sarcastically. "Excuse me, I think I need to be with my people." Pulling herself hand-over-hand, she moved across the ceiling of the oval room and joined a large group of Jeptah gathered around Tangre Bertoran.

Picard's lips thinned as he surveyed the solemn crowd. "We need to get back to the ship. Maybe our sensors can tell us something-maybe there's something we've overlooked." With a sigh, he glanced back at Pazlar, who was hugging another Elaysian. "I think we can let Lieutenant Pazlar stay here for a while."

"Sir, can I-"