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  “Artificial dimensional shift,” he said after a moment, almost to himself. Then, in a louder voice, he asked ­Elfiki, “Lieutenant, the structures you detected on the surface—what about life signs?”

  The science officer consulted her instruments. “Sensor readings are still experiencing disruption, sir, but we’re picking up indistinct life signs.”

  “Captain,” said Commander Lynley from where he still stood at the tactical station. “We’re being scanned. The sensor beams are coming from one of the structures.”

  Worf asked, “Any signs of weapons or other aggressive action?”

  “Negative.” The commander tapped several controls on his console. “Just the scans, and they’re fairly weak, especially compared to ours and even with the problems we’re having.”

  Picard said, “So, whoever’s down there knows we’re here.”

  “Looks that way, sir.” Checking his instruments, Lynley reported, “Now I’m picking up what looks like an incoming communication. The transmission’s a bit garbled, but I think it’s an automated message that’s being repeated at intervals of roughly thirty seconds. I’m running it through the translation processor now.” A moment later, he pressed another series of controls. “I’ve got a portion of it, sir. It’s audio only.”

  Picard said, “Let’s hear it.”

  Lynley entered another command to his console, and the bridge’s intership communications system flared to life with a burst of static that faded, leaving only what to Picard sounded similar to wind rushing through a tunnel. Then that sound dissipated and was followed by a male voice.

  “You who are receiving this message are likely in proximity to our planet. If that is the case, then please heed this warning: It is dangerous to approach this world. We are trapped here, but the circumstances of our captivity are of our own doing. There is nothing to be done for us. Assisting us is not worth the risk to your vessel or your lives. We—”

  Whatever might have come next dissolved into a hiss of static before Lynley silenced the audio. “The rest of the transmission’s too garbled, Captain.”

  For his part, Picard had heard enough. “Whoever’s down there said they’re trapped because of something they did to themselves. Lieutenant Elfiki, is it possible they’re referring to whatever may be responsible for the quantum fluctuations you’ve detected?”

  “If the planet’s moving between dimensions,” replied the science officer, “then it’s possible they’re trapped within a containment field or something similar that protects them during the shift. From this distance and with our sensors still experiencing disruption, it’s hard to be sure, sir.”

  “Captain,” said Worf, “if we move closer, the risk to the ship could be significant.”

  Behind him, Picard heard Lynley add, “I have to agree, sir. There’s just too much we don’t know.”

  “Well, we can’t just sit here and do nothing,” said Picard. “Whoever’s down there, they know we’re up here. We can’t turn and leave them without at least investigating and seeing if there’s anything we can do.” Sensing Worf poising to object, the captain held up his hand. “Your concern is noted and appreciated, Number One, and we will exercise every precaution. For now, let’s just have a look.”

  Staring at the strange new world depicted on the viewscreen, Picard could only hope that he was not making a grave mistake.

  2

  ELSEWHERE

  U.S.S. Enterprise-D

  Resisting the urge to pace back and forth across the bridge, William Riker instead kept his eyes focused on the main viewscreen that was dominated by the orange-yellow mass of the Spindrift Nebula. By itself, the spatial phenomenon was more than sufficient reason to remain in the region while allowing the ship’s science department to spend days scanning and studying it to their heart’s content. For his part, Riker was more interested in what had apparently been hiding in the nebula until just a few minutes ago, and that now seemed to have disappeared as though never having existed.

  Where the hell did you go?

  Hearing the aft turbolift doors open, Riker turned to see Data and Geordi La Forge stepping from the car.

  “Captain,” said the android as he moved down the ramp on the bridge’s port side and proceeded into the command well. Behind him, La Forge moved to the workstations along the aft bulkhead where Lieutenant Worf already stood.

  “I’m afraid you missed it, Mister Data,” Riker said, waving toward the viewscreen before glancing over his shoulder to the tactical station. “Tasha, let’s have another look at it.”

  Standing at the console immediately above and behind the captain’s chair, Lieutenant Natasha Yar nodded. “Aye, sir.”

  A moment later the viewscreen shifted to show another image of the anomaly, though this time the region of orange gases was dominated by a dull, gray planet.

  “Hello,” said La Forge. “Where did that come from?”

  Riker replied, “That’s what we’re trying to figure out. Sensors detected it about fifteen minutes ago, but it was in an area of the nebula we’d already scanned yesterday.”

  “We detected no such planetary bodies during those scans,” said Data.

  “Exactly, and now it’s gone again. It disappeared right after I had Worf call you to the bridge.”

  Data said, “Intriguing. I assume sensor interference has been ruled out as a cause for not detecting the planet earlier?”

  “Yes,” replied Riker, “but it won’t hurt to double-check. Geordi?”

  At the back of the bridge, La Forge replied, “Already working on it, Captain. So far, I’m not seeing indications of any interference we haven’t already accounted for.” The chief engineer tapped his console. “I’m going over the sensor logs now. Data, you’re going to want to see this.”

  Exchanging glances with his first officer, Riker followed the android up to the aft stations, where he saw that La Forge had already isolated a segment of sensor telemetry and now was gesturing to it.

  “See it?” he asked.

  Data nodded. “Quantum fluctuations. Such readings might be indicative of a dimensional shift, but I have never heard of such an occurrence on a planetary scale.”

  “That makes two of us,” added La Forge.

  Yar said, “We picked up structures on the planet’s surface.” She reached up to brush aside an errant lock of blond hair. “There were also some pretty significant power readings down there, including what looks like a massive fusion reactor.”

  “We also detected life signs,” added Riker. “The readings were distorted thanks to the nebula, and maybe these quantum fluctuations, but there was definitely somebody down there.”

  “It is likely that anyone on the planet would have at least some knowledge about this phenomenon,” said Data. “That we are unable to communicate with them is unfortunate.”

  Yar nodded toward the nebula depicted on the view­screen. “If we think this was done artificially, then it would take a tremendous amount of power for the sort of shift we’re talking about.”

  “Or some force or other power source from wherever the planet originally came from,” said La Forge. “Something we can’t detect with our own sensors.” He shrugged. “All of that assumes we’re really talking about some kind of dimensional shift involving an entire planet.” He looked to Riker. “I think I’d like to rule out any chance of sensor interference or some other glitch, Captain.”

  Riker nodded. “Agreed. Run a diagnostic on the sensor array. In the meantime, we already collected plenty of readings. Mister Data, have a closer look at the sensor logs. See if you can find anything else of interest. One thing I want to know right now is whether those quantum fluctuations came from the planet or something else inside the nebula.”

  “In other words,” said La Forge, “are we in any danger?”

  “Exactly.”

  Data replie
d, “Aye sir,” before moving to the console adjacent to La Forge’s workstation. After a few moments, the android said, “My review of the collected sensor telemetry shows the quantum fluctuations were confined to the planet. There are no indications that the effect extended into the nebula itself, and current scans show no signs of such readings. Based on this, I do not believe we are in any danger, Captain.”

  “Good.” Riker allowed himself a small sigh as he studied the nebula on the viewscreen. “Is it possible the planet could still be in here somewhere? Could whatever’s producing the quantum fluctuations be moving it around within the nebula?”

  “Given how little we know about quantum shifts and transdimensional movement,” said Data, “it would be premature to rule out such a possibility. Perhaps the properties of the nebula somehow facilitate the transfer. Of course, the only way for us to determine such activity would be to further our exploration of the region, which is made problematic due to the continued interference with our sensors.”

  La Forge said, “We could deploy some automated survey drones. Say, a half dozen of them to sweep the entire nebula.” The chief engineer paused, as though considering his own suggestion. “Along with the sensor data we’d be collecting ourselves, we could probably have a picture of the whole thing inside of twenty-four hours, maybe less.”

  “What about the nebula’s effects?” asked Riker. “Wouldn’t that distort the probes’ sensor readings?”

  Data said, “We could modify each probe’s sensor array to compensate for the interference. We may also be able to strengthen their communications systems to augment the transmission of scan telemetry, but that might decrease the speed with which we receive the information.”

  Turning once more to regard the viewscreen, Riker shrugged. “We’re not in a hurry to be anywhere, and I’m guessing I’m not the only one who’s curious. How soon can you have the probes ready to launch?”

  “I can get the current duty shift to start now,” replied La Forge. “If I pitch in and with Data’s help, I figure three, maybe four hours?”

  Riker glanced to a chronometer on the nearby engineering workstation. “It’s not an emergency, but I won’t stop you if you want to get started now.” He added a small smile. “We can take a rain check on the game and try again tomorrow night.”

  Nodding, La Forge returned the smile. “Aye, sir. We can do that.”

  Though he would not say it aloud, Riker had truly been looking forward to returning to the senior staff’s weekly poker game. It had taken the other members of the Enterprise’s executive cadre quite some time to resume what had been a regular, anticipated pastime in the wake of losing their former captain. The emotional wound caused by the death of Jean-Luc Picard at the hands of the Borg ran deep, and likely would never fully heal. His absence had cast a pall over the entire crew, and it was only in recent months, following extensive repairs to the ship and the resumption of their duties that everyone had begun to feel anything like their old selves again. Riker’s promotion to captain in the immediate wake of Picard’s capture by the Borg had helped maintain continuity aboard the ship, along with his permanent appointment as the Enterprise’s commanding officer once all hope of rescuing Picard was lost, but the pain of loss remained. Although Riker had been training for this job throughout his entire career, earning the posting in this manner was the last thing he had ever wanted. His admiration for Picard ran greater than the feelings he held for his own father. A trusted friend, a gifted mentor, and one of the finest leaders ever produced by Starfleet was gone, and it had fallen to Will Riker to carry on what Picard had begun as the Enterprise’s first captain. It was a tall order, and one Riker sometimes doubted he was able to fill. Succeeding Jean-Luc Picard was by itself a formidable challenge, but replacing him was impossible, and Riker had vowed never to try.

  “Captain, I have something you need to see.”

  Riker realized it was Lieutenant Yar calling to him, and that he had been momentarily lost within his own thoughts. He saw that La Forge and Data both appeared occupied with the sensor configurations the chief engineer had proposed, and Lieutenant Worf had moved to take the ops position.

  “What’ve you got?” he asked the security chief.

  “I don’t know why I didn’t detect it at first,” replied Yar, her attention divided between him and her instruments, “but I was going back through the logs, and we caught a brief snippet of an incoming transmission.” She looked up from her console. “From the planet. It was on a low frequency, and I think the nebula interference just made me miss it, sir. I’m sorry.”

  Shaking his head, Riker said, “Easy to do in here, Lieutenant. What about the transmission?”

  “It wasn’t random, sir.” Yar pressed a trio of buttons on her console’s smooth, touch-sensitive interface. “Whoever sent it was definitely aiming it at us. There’s no indication it was transmitting before we discovered the planet. I’ve been running it through the computer to get a translation, but from what I can tell, we only got a portion of it before the planet disappeared.”

  Her console beeped and she touched another control. “The computer’s got something, sir.”

  “Put it through, Lieutenant,” said Riker.

  A moment later, the bridge’s intership flared to life, and he heard a string of subdued pops and crackles, which the captain reasoned were artifacts from the weak signal and nebula interference. Then, the distortion faded.

  “. . . dangerous to approach this world. We are trapped here, but the circumstances of our captivity are of our own doing. There is nothing to be done for us. Assisting us is not worth the—”

  Yar said, “The transmission was cut off at that point, sir. From what I’m able to determine, the interruption coincides with our losing the planet on our sensors.”

  “Their own doing,” said Riker, glancing to each of his officers. “What do you suppose that means? Some kind of experiment gone wrong?”

  Nodding, La Forge replied, “That’d be my guess, Captain.”

  “A reasonable assumption, based on the limited information we possess,” added Data. “I recommend we continue our efforts at investigation, sir.”

  His first officer’s proposal being entirely expected, Riker offered a small smile of understanding. There was no blaming the android, of course. Now that his curiosity had been piqued, there would be no stopping him. Riker guessed that the rest of the crew likely harbored similar thoughts. Investigating the nebula was their first true exploration mission in months, and he knew that his people were eager to sink their teeth into something more interesting than acting as freight haulers and chauffeurs for diplomats and other Federation and Starfleet officials. Such duties, while necessary from time to time, were not the endeavors for which the Enterprise had been envisioned.

  So, let’s do some exploring.

  Who were the people on the planet? How had they come to be there? Were the effects of whatever they had done contained to the single world, or was there a greater danger? These and various other questions presented themselves in no particular order to Riker, who knew that if he left them to run unchecked, his thoughts would consume him until this mystery was solved.

  “A mystery.”

  It took him a moment to realize that he had spoken the words aloud, and now he found himself regarding the quizzical expressions on the faces of his senior officers.

  “All right,” he said. “Data, you and Geordi get to work on your probes, and see what can be done about reconfiguring or enhancing our sensors.” Riker nodded toward the viewscreen. “Let’s go find us a planet.”

  3

  HERE

  U.S.S. Enterprise-E

  Leaning back in her chair, Lieutenant T’Ryssa Chen rested her feet on the edge of the console she had commandeered in the ship’s stellar cartography computer lab. The workstation was one of ten positioned around the large circular platform that was the hol
ographic emitter array at the center of the room. Hanging in the air before her and a meter or so above the emitter was a three-dimensional, computer-generated representation of spatial object NGC 8541.

  “Why can’t they give these things better names?” she asked, shifting her position so that she was more comfortable. “I mean, some Starfleet cartographer went to all that trouble calling this region the Odyssean Pass, so why not a little extra love for everything else? Only the important stuff seems to get that sort of attention, while the smaller yet equally adorable things like this nebula right here get ignored.” She offered a melodramatic sigh. “It’s really quite a tragedy, when you think about it.”

  Seated at an adjacent workstation, Lieutenant Dina Elfiki looked up from her console and eyed Chen with suspicion. “Did you come down here to help me, or to offer distracting commentary?”

  “There’s no reason I can’t do both.” Chen grinned. “You know how much of an incredible multitasker I am.”

  Despite shaking her head, Elfiki could not help the small smile that crept onto her lips. “There are days I really hate you.”

  “Is today one of those days?”

  “Not yet, but it’s early.” Returning her attention to her console, Elfiki pressed a control on the interface’s smooth surface, the action accompanied by a short, melodic tone. In response to the science officer’s instruction, the holographic image of the nebula spun clockwise ninety degrees, offering her and Chen a new view of the mass of gases and other dust and debris contained within the cloud’s sinuous, fluctuating boundary. Within the nebula’s lower left quadrant as it now faced Chen was a small gray sphere indicating the unnamed planet.