Shar set aside the padd he’d been studying, his eyebrows and antennae raised in evident admiration of Nog’s plan. “So this cloaking effect should prevent the Nyazen from detecting our away team’s transporter beam as it moves from relay to relay through the Oort cloud.”
“Possibly,” Nog said. “It’s a natural effect, so we can’t count on it working perfectly. But it should cover our tracks well enough to let us slip our away team onto the artifact from extreme range. If we’re lucky, the blockade ships will never even suspect what we’re up to. And we only need to be within transporter range of the first relay station to do it. The other relay stations in the series will take care of the rest of the transport.”
Tenmei looked skeptical. “As long as your figures aren’t off. You’ve got to take into account all of the mutual motions and gravitational interactions of all the comets and planetesimals in that part of the Oort cloud.”
“That was the hardest part,” Nog said, nodding. “But everyone seems to agree that my numbers check out.”
“I hope you’re right,” she said. “But we’re not going to know for sure until a real live away team steps into harm’s way.”
“So the first big question is, Who gets to join this away team?” Bowers said.
“The original Sagancrew, of course,” Vaughn said. “Ezri, the Dax symbiont, Nog, and Dr. Bashir.”
Bowers frowned. “I have to point out that we have no idea what’s inside that artifact. I’d feel more comfortable if some security or tactical personnel were going along. I’m volunteering, by the way.”
“I appreciate that, but no,” Vaughn said in a tone that did not invite debate. “Only the shuttle crew will beam over. I’m not going to put more people at risk.” Bowers subsided, though he still looked unhappy. Nog was mildly surprised to note that Vaughn had apparently taken to heart Sacagawea’s warning that only the original Sagancrew should venture onto the artifact.
On the other hand, what choice does he have but to believe? What choice doesany of us have?
“The next big question is,” Ezri said, “Will it work?” Nog thought she sounded remarkably self-possessed. Still, his sensitive lobes detected a trace of well-concealed distress in her voice. He couldn’t help but admire her toughness.
“I am confident that this is going to work,” Nog said, his eyes locked with Ezri’s. “And we can be ready to deploy the first self-replicating transporter relay after Shar and I finish programming the prototype. It’ll take maybe three hours, tops.”
“The procedure is actually somewhat simpler than the mathematics would make it appear,” T’rb said.
“Unless you happen to be one of the people standing on the transporter pad,” Ezri parried gently. “Nog’s plan calls for the transporter relays to be beamed ahead of the away team by just a second or two. That’s pretty slim timing.”
“If we don’t beam the relays out at essentially the same time as we send the away team,” Shar pointed out, “the Nyazen ships are much likelier to discover what we’re trying to do and launch an attack before we can carry off the mission.”
“But it’s risky,” Ezri said. “The only test of the transporter relay series will be in actual use.”
Shar nodded, conceding her point. “I admit that there is a…nonzero possibility that one of the relays might fail during operation, or that the transporter beam carrying either a relay or the away team might be diffracted or scattered by the internal crystalline structure of one of the Oort cloud bodies. Either of those eventualities, of course, would immediately kill the away team. Also, if any of our coordinate lock calculations contain errors—”
“Just how much of a ‘nonzero possibility’are we talking about here?” Tenmei wanted to know.
Shar’s antennae were nearly flat against his head. Nog knew he hated to be pinned down like that, with so many chaotic variables at play.
“If I were a betting man,” Nog said, answering first, “I’d lay odds of seventeen or eighteen in twenty in favor of our surviving the process.” The riskier the road, the greater the profit.
“I agree,” Shar said.
Vaughn sat in silence, mulling it all over. He didn’t look happy with the odds, as good as they were. For a moment, Nog feared that he was about to be sent back to the drawing board again. Vaughn appeared to be about to speak—
—when Nog realized all at once that he was elsewhere.He was outside, standing on a city street, a warm rain running down his face. He looked up into the darkening sky and saw the Tower of Commerce looming above him.
“Come along, Nog!” the scowling woman in front of him said. She was middle-aged, and nude in the old-guard fashion of Ferengi females. He recognized her with a start.
Prinadora!
He looked down at his clothing, and saw that drab green Ferengi street clothes had replaced his Starfleet uniform.
Starfleet. He laughed at himself for even entertaining such a foolish hew-mon notion. Ever since his father’s death at the hands of the Cardassians had forced him to leave Terok Nor, he had been so busy cleaning up his mother’s financial messes that—
The Defiant’s mess hall suddenly returned, and almost everyone’s face was a study in incredulity. Tenmei was opening up a tricorder.
“It wasn’t a bad place at all,” Bashir said, looking disoriented. “Not the way I expected.”
“I was back on the Destiny,”Ezri said, owl-eyed.
“What just happened?” Nog said, his voice a harsh whisper.
“The three of you,” Bowers said, almost stammering, “you, Lieutenant, ah, Tigan, and Dr. Bashir—you all just… vanished.”
Tenmei stood, carefully scanning the room with her tricorder. “For almost one second,” she said, “your quantum signatures synced up with some other nearby parallel universes. It’s another sign of your increasing quantum fluctuations. Fortunately you all snapped back to this reality as part of the oscillation. But there’s no guarantee you’ll be so lucky next time.”
“Well,” Vaughn said quietly. “We couldn’t have asked for a better demonstration of the consequences of doing nothing.”
“I don’t know about anybody else here,” Ezri said, “but I think I’d prefer the risk of scrambling my molecules to ending up in some random parallel universe. Or to the way I’m living right now, for that matter. I say we get on with it.”
Nog couldn’t see any better alternative either. “I have to agree.”
Tenmei didn’t look convinced. “And once you’re aboard the artifact—what then?”
That question seemed to bring Ezri up short, at least for a moment. Nog realized then that he hadn’t thought that far ahead himself. He looked across the table at the inscrutable alien, as though the answer might reveal itself in the creature’s large, oil-black eyes.
“You will realign your worldlines,” Sacagawea said with surprising clarity. “Restore yourselves, you will. Or in the attempt, perish/disperse.”
No one spoke for almost another minute, and it was Commander Vaughn who finally broke the silence.
“There are times when we have to take certain things on faith. Considering our other alternatives—which consist of either doing nothing and losing the Sagancrew forever, or starting a fight with the Nyazen that we can’t win—I’m forced to conclude that this is one of those times. Mr. Nog?”
“Sir?”
Vaughn stood up, signaling that the briefing was coming to an end. “I want you and Shar to see to whatever technical preparations remain to be made. Let’s get busy.”