But Aili occupied herself by enjoying the view as he walked away. His body really hadn’t changed that much in twenty-two years—not as slender as before, perhaps, but then neither was she, having developed a thicker layer of body fat for insulation once she’d gone fully aquatic. Yes, he was her captain, and he was married. But she’d been alone on this planet for days now and she had appetites that were going unslaked. So she saw no harm in indulging in a private fantasy now and then.
Besides, we may be here for a while,she found herself thinking. What ifTitan never comes back? What if Will and I have to live out our lives here?She contemplated him as he lay down to sleep. Would that really be so bad?
For him, maybe. She knew he’d miss his wife and daughter terribly, not to mention his career and his ship. But he was an adaptable man. And as for herself, Aili realized that there was little she would miss. Even confined by the squales, she felt more at home here, more free and vital, than she ever had in her life. She already thought of Alos and Gasa as friends, and she believed she could win the other squales over in time. They were dangerous when they had to be, but she felt they were a noble people, gregarious, inquisitive, wise, even quite beautiful. And all they knew of her was what she showed them here, with none of the stink she carried in the oceans of her homeworld. She could have a fresh start here, without having to seal herself inside a skintight prison surrounded by searing air. So she had to admit, although there were members of Titan’s crew she would miss, she would not be unhappy to live out her life on Droplet.
And if Will Riker had to live it out with me? Well, a girl has needs. And he would certainly need someone to comfort him.
She spent a pleasant hour imagining the details of that comfort. It was just a fantasy, of course. But Aili knew there was a chance it could become reality, and she could live with that.
TITAN
It was Eviku who finally figured out what was driving the life forms of Droplet to their increasingly erratic, aggressive behavior. “I realized that I felt a similar anxiety myself when I was on the planet,” he told Vale and the others gathered in the conference room. “At first I assumed it was because of my…well, my fears for the captain and Ensign Lavena. But then I realized that there was a direct correlation between how close I was to Droplet and how anxious I felt. And it struck me that Arkenites have something in common with Dropletian life forms.”
“Your magnetic sensitivity,” Vale realized, her eyes going to the black magnetic headdress he wore to maintain his equilibrium.
“Yes. We had assumed the Dropletian animals’ magnetic sense was used primarily for navigation. But what if it has some influence over their behavior as well?” He went to the viewscreen and pulled up a cross-section graphic of Droplet and its magnetic field. “According to our readings, the planetary magnetic field has been subtly altered since the impact. This is because the field has two sources. In addition to the core dynamo that creates the field, the hypersaline layer at the base of the ocean generates a saltwater dynamo effect that enhances and modulates the field. The interaction of the two dynamos creates an oscillation of sorts, a regular fluctuation like a, well, a sort of heartbeat for the planet.”
“Or a musical beat,” Ra-Havreii said. “From what we know of the squales, they perceive the world in very musical terms.”
Vale’s eyes widened. “So they could be constantly aware of this magnetic pulsing in their heads? Like a…a rhythm track for their lives?”
“More than just a rhythm,” Eviku said. “The way the field patterns fluctuate as the saltwater dynamo undergoes convection, thermal changes, and so forth produces modulations and variations on top of the basic rhythm.”
“Like modulations in pitch, variations in intensity and duration,” Ra-Havreii added, smiling now. “A perpetual song underlying their whole existence—a song without sound.”
And I get annoyed enough having a song stuck in my head for more than a day or two,Vale thought. But then, if she’d lived her whole life with a song in her head, she’d probably take it for granted.
“Incidentally,” Eviku went on, “we now think that’s why the squales have been so reluctant to come near our technology. It wasn’t just fear of the unknown; the EM fields emitted by our vessels and devices may have been causing them discomfort. Or perhaps simply drowning out the song.”
“I have a team working with Life Sciences on finding a way to damp their emissions,” Ra-Havreii said.
Eviku called up graphics of the field parameters in the wake of the impact event. “But the song appears to have changed recently. It’s all those exotic dissolved minerals and dust sinking down to the hypersaline layer. Minerals that still carry a substantial residual charge of energy from our attacks on the asteroid.”
“And not just the solar or kinetic energy these compounds usually absorb,” Pazlar elaborated. “Nadion energy from the phasers, gravitons from the tractor beams, thoron and subspace radiation from the quantum torpedoes, gamma, x-and m-rays from the antimatter blast. It’s a potent cocktail. And as more and more of those energized remnants descend into the dynamo layer, their exotic emissions disrupt the magnetic field.”
Vale frowned. “So…the planet is singing off-key?”
“In a sense,” Eviku said. “It creates a dissonance. Imagine if you had to listen to music whose pitch had been flattened and whose timbre was turned into a high-pitched whine. With periodic bursts of noise as pockets of asteroid debris discharge.”
Oh my God, they’re listening to bagpipes.“So the chaos down there…it’s our fault. If we’d just left well enough alone…” She exchanged a look with Keru.
But he would have none of it. He met her gaze evenly and asked, “So what can we do to fix it?”
Pazlar went on as Eviku resumed his seat. “First we need to evaluate the condition of the dynamo layer in more detail. Our scans from up here just don’t get enough resolution.”
Vale stared. “From up here? You mean we need to dive down there.” The Elaysian nodded. “Melora, the pressure’s over a hundred thousand atmospheres! We don’t have anything that can withstand that.”