"No, Mr. Barclay, you're with us." The captain nodded to Data. "Shall we go?"

"Yes, sir." The android pushed himself away from the console and retrieved his hoverplatform. A moment later, the three visitors wended their way slowly out of the observation room. Barclay glanced back at the grieving Elaysians, who were weeping, hugging each other, and gazing forlornly out the window at their fallen comrades. They couldn't even retrieve the bodies, thought Reg glumly.

He was haunted by what Melora had told him at the instant of the disaster: This is the end. It's the end of everything.

On board the Enterprise, the command staff gathered in the observation lounge, and a solemn group it was, thought Barclay. He had only been in this room with this important group of officers a few times, and he wished he wasn't here now. He would rather be running third-level diagnostics down in engineering instead of trying to save a couple billion lives. Reg wasn't comfortable playing hero, especially when he had no idea how to get out of this awful mess.

At Captain Picard's insistence, he had kept the violet crystal around his neck, and he felt self-conscious about it. Why should he have this added responsibility when others were more deserving? Were La Forge and Riker staring at him? At least there wasn't much small talk as they waited for the last members of the command staff to trickle in.

The door whooshed open, and Deanna Troi and Beverly Crusher entered. This brought a welcome break from the tension, as everyone rose to their feet and looked at Troi with concern.

"How do you feel?" asked La Forge.

"Fine," she answered with a polite smile. Finally, thought Reg, there was someone else to take the unwanted attention off him. Troi took her seat and folded her hands in front of her, acting as if she hadn't been smashing furniture a day before.

"We're all present," said Captain Picard, surveying the faces of his most trusted officers. "Mr. Data, would you please brief everyone about what just happened on the sh.e.l.l."

"Yes, sir." In detached, unemotional tones, the android recounted the details of the failed procedure and horrific deaths of over a thousand Alpusta. La Forge frowned and looked down at the table with his opaque eyes, while Commander Riker and Dr. Crusher made notes on their padds. Commander Troi seemed lost in quiet contemplation. Reg just stared straight ahead, unable to come to terms with the immensity of the tragedy. It wasn't just the deaths that troubled him, but the death knell for the entire planet.

"There you have it," said Picard. "The grim reality is that neither us nor anyone on Gemworld has any idea what to do next. Shutting down the sh.e.l.l would end the collection of dark matter and, possibly, close the rift. But it would also shut off the forcefields and allow all the atmosphere to escape. Only the Lipuls would survive the loss of the atmosphere-all the other species on Gemworld would die. We couldn't evacuate more than a few hundred on the Enterprise. So any ideas are welcome."

Geordi grimaced puzzledly. "Are you sure we can't find the one who did this ... who corrupted the program?"

"We'll keep trying to do that, of course," answered Picard. "But our adversary has antic.i.p.ated every move we've made so far, and it's unlikely they would just surrender themselves and offer to fix their handiwork. Also, traveling on Gemworld is very difficult now, and the saboteur might belong to one of the distant, non-humanoid species we haven't even seen. No demands have been made, so we have to a.s.sume we're dealing with a ma.s.s murderer rather than a political terrorist. A very clever ma.s.s murderer."

Riker stroked his clean-shaven chin. "The problem is in the forcefields, right? Could there be some other way to power the forcefields that doesn't use the sh.e.l.l?"

"Hey," said La Forge, snapping his fingers, "what about the Enterprise? Could we take over powering the forcefields ourselves? I mean, we couldn't do it for very long, perhaps no more than a few seconds, but all we need to do is disrupt this endless loop for a few seconds. Isn't that right?"

The captain nodded thoughtfully. "I believe so. At any rate, it's worth looking into. Could you do a feasability study on that, Mr. La Forge?"

"Yes, sir," answered the chief engineer. "How much time do we have?"

When no one answered immediately, Data c.o.c.ked his head. "That is an excellent question, Geordi. I have started running a modeling program based on the growth of the mutant crystal and the increase in thoron radiation, but I have not had time to input recent data. I will take more sensor readings and update my model as soon as this briefing is over."

"Make it so," replied the captain. "Next time we talk to them, I want to have all the facts."

"We're not beat yet," said Riker confidently.

"They'll never let you shut down the sh.e.l.l," proclaimed Deanna Troi, her voice cutting through the note of cautious optimism. "They're too afraid."

"I don't see that they have much choice," insisted Riker.

"Nevertheless, they'll fight you."

Reg opened his mouth to refute the counselor, but he really couldn't. Although he didn't want to admit it, Troi was probably right.

"It's too bad there's no way to evacutate everyone," said Doctor Crusher. "Or no way to give them individual breathing devices. Are we sure they don't have the technology to survive without air, even for a few seconds?"

"We'll look into that, too," answered the captain. "We're going to explore every avenue."

La Forge shook his head. "The problem is, how do we replace the atmosphere once it's gone? The sh.e.l.l might be able to regenerate the air over time, but how much time? It could take years."

"Once we get rid of the rift, we've got all the time in the world," answered Riker. "We could send for a whole fleet of ships to evacuate the planet."

A beep sounded. "Bridge to Picard."

"Go ahead."

"Sir, there's a ship coming out of warp!"

"What?!" exclaimed the captain with concern."Hail them! Tell them not to."

"I have. The interference-"

The captain charged out of the observation lounge with Data, Riker, Barclay, and the others right behind him. Since the room adjoined the bridge, they reached their usual stations in a matter of seconds. Not having a station on the bridge, Barclay hovered near an auxiliary console, in case he was needed.

"On screen," ordered Picard.

"Yes, sir," answered the officer on ops a moment before Data replaced her.

At first, there was nothing on the viewscreen but the sparkling starscape. If Reg looked hard enough, he could almost see a dark rip in the glittering firmament, although maybe that was just his imagination. A brilliant glow appeared in the void, and a sleek star ship emerged. Judging by her twin nacelles, she was a Federation ship. Normally a ship coming out of warp was a beautiful sight, but not now ... not here.

"Fools!" Riker exclaimed. "What are they doing?"

"I would say they are trying to rescue us," answered Data.

No sooner had the ship emerged than it tilted at an obscene angle and began to slide backward toward the unseen anomaly. Thrusters rippled along her stern, and impulse engines were obviously on full; the ship jerked and heaved as it tried unsuccessfully to escape from the deadly singularity.

"Akira-cla.s.s," said Data, working his console. "The Summit. They are unable to compensate for the gravitational pull of the rift."

"Tell them to use their tractor beam!" ordered Picard.

Data worked his console, then shook his head. "They are not responding. They are so close to the rift, they cannot receive our hails. Their reactor is close to overloading."

Everyone on the bridge watched in horror-helpless, unable to do anything to save the struggling ship. The captain's jaw clenched in anger, and Riker pounded a fist into his palm. Dr. Crasher slumped into a chair and lowered her head while La Forge leaned over Data's shoulder and peered at his readouts. Only Counselor Troi stared unblinkingly at the disaster unfolding on the viewscreen.

The nacelles on the Summit suddenly erupted, and plasma clouds blossomed outward ... a moment before the starship exploded into a ma.s.s of silvery confetti. Even the debris couldn't escape the hungry maw of the rift, and the clouds were swept into blackness. A second later, there was no trace of the Akira-cla.s.s starship.

"Lost, with all hands," reported Data.

"Why didn't they listen to us?" muttered Riker.

The captain scowled. "Because we're Starfleet, and we're always trying to do the impossible. If another ship was marooned here, we would probably try to save her."

"I'm sure they had a plan," said La Forge. He didn't need to add that plans hadn't worked very well since their arrival on Gemworld. The only plan they could depend upon was the immutable law of the universe-that all biological beings would die, some sooner rather than later.

Barclay felt a gnawing in his stomach. He wanted to say something compa.s.sionate and profound to his shipmates, but he wasn't articulate under the best of circ.u.mstances. And these were the worst of circ.u.mstances. He wished Melora was there with him, because for once, he was the one who needed comforting.

He noticed that Data continued to work his console at a rapid pace, even though nothing else was happening on the bridge. Reg stepped closer to the android and looked over his shoulder.

"W-What are you doing?" he asked.

"Taking sensor readings and completing my forecast," answered the android. His fingers were a blur, and the sensor data scrolled by so fast that Reg had no chance of reading any of it. The lieutenant stepped back and saw that Captain Picard and everyone else on the bridge was waiting for Data to complete his a.n.a.lysis.

After another moment, the android stopped working and turned to the captain. "Sir, I regret to say that the situation is worse than I had antic.i.p.ated."

Picard stiffened his back. "Report."

"At the current rate of increase, thoron radiation will kill almost all life on Gemworld, including most of the crew, in approximately eight days."

Barclay's mouth flopped open, and Riker let out a low whistle. Captain Picard tried to keep his spine erect, but his shoulders slumped perceptibly. Both Crusher and La Forge headed for the turbolift, looking determined to pursue a solution within their own departments. Only Counselor Troi took the news with an unearthly calm, almost resignation. She stared curiously at the glittering stars on the viewscreen, as if looking for an answer in the vastness of s.p.a.ce.

After everything they had seen that day, the idea of dying was not far from anyone's mind, but no one had realized that their time was so short.

"Eight days," said Reg softly. "That's one more day than it supposedly took to create Heaven and Earth."

"It's much easier to destroy than to create," answered Captain Picard grimly. "One thing is certain-we haven't got any more time for diplomacy. Mr. Barclay, are you ready to return to the planet?"

Barclay snapped to attention. "Yes, sir."

"Counselor Troi, do you feel up to joining the away team?"

"Yes, sir," answered Deanna, still gazing at the twinkling stars on the viewscreen. "Gemworld has lived on borrowed time for millions of years, but every loan must be settled someday."

OUR FIRST SERIAL NOVEL!.

Presenting, one chapter per month ...

The very beginning of the Starfleet Adventure ...

STAR TREK.

STARFLEET: YEAR ONE.

A Novel in Twelve Parts by Michael Jan Friedman

Chapter Seven.

Chapter Seven.

Weapons Officer Morgan Kelly took a deep breath and considered herself in the full-length mirror.

Like everyone else on the Christopher-cla.s.s vessel Peregrine, she wore an open-collared blue uniform with a black mock-turtle pullover underneath it. A gold Starfleet chevron graced the uniform's left breast, and Kelly's rank of lieutenant was denoted by two gold bands encircling her right sleeve.

She tilted her red-haired head to one side and frowned. She had worn the gold and black of Earth Command for so long she had come to think of it as part of her natural coloring. A blue uniform looked as inappropriate as a hot-pink atomic missile.

But there it was, Kelly mused, her frown deepening. And she would get used to it. She would have to.

The sound of chimes brought her out of her reverie. Kelly turned to the double set of sliding doors that separated her quarters from the corridor beyond and wondered who might be calling on her.

Maybe it was the engineer she had met earlier, who had gotten lost looking for the mess hall. Or yet another lieutenant j.g., wondering if she had received her full complement of toiletries... .

It couldn't be a friend. After all, the lieutenant only had one of those on the ship ... and he was waiting for her on the bridge.

"I'm coming," she sighed.

Crossing the room, Kelly pressed the padd in the bulkhead beside the sliding doors and watched them hiss open. They revealed a silver-skinned, ruby-eyed figure in a uniform as blue as her own.

"Captain Cobaryn-?" she said, unable to conceal her surprise.

He inclined his head slightly. "May I come in?"

Kelly hesitated for a moment. Then she realized she really had no choice in the matter. "Of course. But I should tell you, I'm-"

"Due on the bridge in ten minutes," the Rigelian said, finishing her declaration for her. He fashioned a smile, stretching the series of ridges that ran from his temple to his jaw. "I know. I spoke with Captain Shumar before I transported over."

"Did you?" the lieutenant responded, getting the feeling that she had been the victim of some kind of conspiracy. I'll be the first officer in Starfleet to kill my captain, she told herself.

"Yes," Cobaryn rejoined. "I wish to speak with you."

Of course you do, she replied inwardly.

After all, Cobaryn had taken every opportunity to speak with her back on Earth Base 14 in the aftermath of the Romulan a.s.sault. It hardly came as a shock that he wanted to speak with her now.

And he had gone to some pretty great lengths to do so. All six of the fleet's Christophers were supposed to leave Earth orbit in less than an hour, and the Rigelian had a command of his own to attend to. There might even be a regulation prohibiting a captain from leaving his vessel at such a momentous juncture.

If there was, Cobaryn seemed unaware of it ... or else, for the sake of his infatuation with Kelly, he had decided to ignore it.

"Look," she said, "I-"

He held up a three-fingered hand. "Please," he insisted gently, "I will not be long, I promise."

The lieutenant regarded her visitor. He seemed to mean it. "All right," she told him, folding her arms across her chest.

Cobaryn offered her another smile-his best one yet. "First," he said, "I would like to apologize for my behavior back at Earth Base Fourteen. In retrospect, I see that my attentions must have been a burden to you. In my defense, I can only state my ignorance of human courtship rituals."