Squinting into a desk-mounted viewer, Lieutenant Ming Xiong ignored the gritty sting of his tired eyes as they played across yet another chromatographic analysis of samples taken from around the Erilon encampment site where he had lived and studied these past weeks. His mind fogged a moment as he scanned over the colored bands of data. Were these soil samples? Rock samples? Ice samples? Yes, ice samples, he remembered, ones from cores drilled a few meters from the base of the massive black structure—the artifact,as the survey team now called it—that rose from the surface of the cold, hardened soil almost half a kilometer from the encampment.
The artifact that had consumed his every thought since its discovery.
Xiong had spent weeks sorting through dozens of new affinity readings relating to proteins collected from various depths of the planet’s glaciated ice pack, hoping to unlock even the slightest clue to the meta-genome. While Starfleet researchers of the highest caliber had been subjecting samples of the complex genetic structure to battery upon battery of tests, Xiong still spent what time he could doing his own intensive study. It was either that or sleep, as he did not have much inclination to mingle with the several dozen of his colleagues “doing time on this ball of ice,” as he heard a few put their situation.
What he possessed that those Starfleet researchers did not were samples of the artifact itself. However, particles of the construct raised more questions than they answered. The material alone was a conundrum, not completely glass and not completely stone. There were no detectable seams in the artifact’s assembly, leading to speculation as to whether it was cast whole or perhaps even grown organically. The material’s age was indeterminate, at least so far as the latest scans could detect. In Xiong’s mind, it only reflected in substance all of the mystery embodied in the artifact as a whole.
As he looked through the new samples and compared them to the artifact’s base material, Xiong let his enthusiasm fan the spark of his unspoken hunch that, somehow, the meta-genome and the artifact were connected. More time and study, he was convinced, would reveal how a key woven deeply within the meta-genome’s bases and sequences would unlock just the information necessary to reveal the artifact’s unknown nature—and its true purpose.
So, I just keep looking,Xiong thought.
“Lieutenant?” The voice’s ring through the darkened and otherwise quiet room startled him, prompting a sharp intake of breath that in turn offered a vivid reminder of the coppery tang of the stale air within the encampment’s enclosed spaces. “I need to interrupt you, sir.”
“No, you don’t, Ensign,” Xiong said, recognizing the voice as that of Colleen Cook, one of the junior archaeologists assigned to the site. He turned his head from the viewer just enough to let its bluish light spill forth onto his chin and cheek before speaking again. “I’m sure someone else can assist you because right now, I’m busy.”
“But no one else can assist me,Mr. Xiong.”
The crispness of the words was like a blast of cold air rushing down his spine. He jolted upright and spun around to find himself staring into the implacable expression of Zhao Sheng.
“Captain!” Xiong said too loudly as he noted the other man’s narrowed eyes. “This…is a surprise, sir. What brings you down here?”
Zhao nodded a dismissal to Cook, who appeared more than happy to duck back outside the research room. “You missed our meeting this morning,” he said. “I decided to collect your report in person.”
Xiong felt a pang of sheepishness and found it hard to hold the captain’s gaze. “I…don’t have a report for you, sir,” he said. “Speaking freely, sir, I don’t report to you in this matter.”
“ Permissionto speak freely granted, by the way,” Zhao replied, his eyes narrowing as he crossed the small room until he was less than a meter from Xiong. The young researcher squared himself against the uneasy encroachment on his personal space.
“I am well aware, Lieutenant, of the command structure and that your detached duties place you under the direct authority of Commodore Reyes on Starbase 47,” Zhao said evenly. “Your report on your activities here is expected as a courtesy to me, particularly when it’s my ship and crew who are acting as chaperones for this little field trip of yours.”
Xiong swallowed, realizing that Zhao would interpret that as a sign of weakness of will. So be it,he thought. The lieutenant knew all along that such a dressing-down would be coming, but his intentions had been honest, even though Zhao was the last person who would hear his excuse at this moment. He simply had not found the time to prepare for the captain a complete report that would truly be useful. Xiong could have submitted the finished “alternative” version of his research that Starfleet Command had ordered he draft for personnel with lesser clearance—one written with the intent to obfuscate the true nature of his findings—but that would have brought him more problems with Zhao than he had even now.
Besides, the very idea of that alternative report gnawed at Xiong’s conscience. Given the choice, he would proudly share with Zhao—or anyone else, for that matter—everything he knew to date about the meta-genome and the artifact.
But I have my orders.
With that in mind, he simply nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said, continuing to meet the captain’s stern glare.
“And this is your last reminder that your presence at my staff meetings is expected,” Zhao continued. “I might phrase it as a request for you to be there, but you will regard it as an order.”
“Understood, sir.”
Zhao held his stance for a moment before stepping back. He drew a breath and released it through his nose as he took a look around the room, and Xiong noticed the captain’s eyes had settled on a makeshift cot with rumpled bedding shoved against one wall. Zhao rubbed his chin before continuing in a somewhat warmer tone, “You look worn, Lieutenant,” he said. “Can I assume that your studies have kept your attention more tightly than they should?”
Xiong released a small laugh as he allowed himself to relax. “I’d like to say that we’re finding more to examine each day, but in truth it seems that we’re finding more to examine about every ten minutes.”
“And what haveyou found?” Zhao asked with a glimmer of interest in his dark eyes.
“I could tell you, sir,” Xiong said with sincerity, “but we’re just not sure what it all means yet.”
Zhao nodded, seemingly willing to accept that for an answer, at least for now. As the captain turned away and quietly paced a few steps, Xiong felt compelled to offer at least a few morsels of undiluted factual information. Besides, engaging someone in actual conversation was something that had eluded him since his arrival on Erilon. “I can tell you that the artifact, what you see on the surface…”
“Yes?”
Xiong smiled. “It’s nothing compared to what we’ve seen underneath it. We didn’t expect there to be any kind of structure supporting the thing at all. I was sure it was grounded in bedrock. But there’s an entire system of subterranean chambers and passages, all artificial in origin. We’ve found interface consoles and storage and who knows what else is actually there. For security reasons, investigations have been restricted to sensors-only except for a couple of key areas.”
“Key areas,” Zhao repeated. “Such as?”
“Well, the most interesting one is what we think is a control room,” Xiong replied. “The problem is, we’re not sure just what it controls or what anything else actually does.”
“So,” the captain said, “there’s equipment connected with the artifact at a central point?” When Xiong nodded, he added, “And it’s completely powerless?”
“No, sir. Not completely,” Xiong said. “We’ve tried interfacing a generator to what we think is a power-distribution coupling, but nothing’s worked. Candidly, sir, we’re not even sure it’s a power hub that we’ve hooked into.”