The Neyel took a deep breath and again set the chess piece down on the table before him. Though Troi perceived that Frane was still nervous, her encouragement had obviously bolstered the younger man’s confidence.
“The rift is not introducing anything new to Neyel space. It merely heralds the long-prophesied return of something unimaginably ancient. Something that may be older than the universe itself. It is the Sleeper, at last awakening.”
Will’s eyebrows rose. “The Sleeper?”
“Apparently a deity in which many of the races indigenous to this region believe,” Donatra said. “This ‘Sleeper’ is said to slumber for billions of years, waking only periodically.”
Frane, still standing, nodded. “And when It wakes, It ceases to dream. But all the worlds that surround it are part of that dream. Like Newaerth, the first world to vanish as the Sleeper begins stirring from its long ages of slumber.”
Vale’s eyes grew huge. “Are you suggesting that this galaxy and everything in it is just a part of this ancient god’s dream?”
“Yes,” Frane said, nodding. “And when the dream ceases…” He trailed off meaningfully.
Despite Frane’s unscientific claims, no one in the room was smiling. Troi realized that everyone present was thinking of the planet that the young Neyel had called Newaerth. The disappearance of Newaerth and its entire system was essentially beyond dispute now. Had some cosmic Sleeper inadvertently destroyed it, simply by rolling over during its fitful slumbers? Would that casual destruction spread farther and wider once the mysterious entity came more fully awake?
Troi recalled a very old story from Earth that her father had told her when she was a little girl. For centuries, the Hindus had believed in a deity known as Brahma, upon whom the existence of the entire universe depended. To Brahma, a day and a night lasted more than eight billion years, far longer than either Betazed or Earth had existed. During Brahma’s periods of sleep, he would dream into existence the entire universe—which would be destroyed each “morning,” setting off the next iteration in an infinite cycle of cosmic death and rebirth.
That story had both frightened and fascinated her on some primal level, perhaps because she was half-human. Maybe it’s no wonder,Troi thought, that a similar belief would be attractive to others who have Terran blood in their veins.
“Ridiculous,” Tchev spat, glaring at Frane. “Mere superstition.”
Donatra chuckled. “That’s a curious observation, coming from one whose people bash each other with ceremonial stun sticks and worship statues of dead warriors.”
Tchev rose, his leather-gloved fists bunched on the table. “PetaQ!”
Will, still seated, moved not a millimeter. “Let’s all settle down, folks,” he said, smiling like a kindly innkeeper. “We all have better things to do than snipe at one other.”
“Agreed,” Donatra said, apparently both unfazed and unchastened.
“You’re not actually giving any credence to this…aboriginal fantasy, are you, Riker?” Tchev said, gesticulating in wild frustration.
“I’m simply trying to learn everything I can, Captain,” Will replied. “Even ancient legends might shed some light on our current situation.”
“Nonsense,” said Donatra.
Jaza cleared his throat, signaling that he was still in charge of the scientific end of the meeting—and perhaps also betraying his Bajoran reticence about dismissing fervidly held religious beliefs out of hand. Tchev reluctantly sat, and everyone else who had risen immediately followed suit.
“I’m sure we can all agree that now is not the time for a metaphysical debate,” Jaza said. “We need to consider the facts before us calmly, and arrive at a solution to this problem.”
“What we need,” Tchev said, stabbing a finger at the holographic display, “is to destroy this ‘protouniverse.’ Once we’ve finally figured out how to get ourselves home, of course.”
“Again, I have to concur,” Donatra said, a sour expression on her face.
“That would seem to be our most prudent course,” Akaar said.
“I’m not a big fan of the wholesale destruction of entire universes,” Will said, sounding the same note of caution that was already coming through loud and clear to Troi’s conscience. “Even one that’s apparently still in an embryonic form. But with so much at stake, I agree that we may find that we have no better choice.”
Troi detected a sudden, extreme change in the emotional timbre of the scientific team. Jaza and Pazlar were again glancing uneasily at one other, and even Cethente’s usually placid aura seemed to grow almost turbulent. The uncomfortable silence that ensued spoke volumes.
“Gentlemen?” Will prompted.
Jaza cleared his throat. “Captain, I would have agreed with you, if only reluctantly.”
“ ‘Would have’?”
“Yes. Until we compared the energy signatures and thermodynamic readings of this protouniverse with the one DS9’s crew discovered a decade ago. They’re substantially similar.”
“Meaning?” Vale asked.
“Meaning that this new universe,” Jaza paused to nod in Frane’s direction, “or this awakening Sleeper, if you prefer, is already showing signs of life.”
“And intelligence,” Pazlar added quietly.
Troi’s mouth fell open involuntarily at this entirely unexpected revelation. This was undoubtedly the reason the members of the science team had just experienced such emotional discomfiture. It was obviously far too recent a discovery to have made it into any of the already-distributed reports and summaries.
The room erupted in a gabble of raised voices, as everyone present radiated varying intensities of incredulity. Will, to his credit, displayed a healthy undercurrent of wonder that made her smile in spite of her own shocked reaction.
Troi noted that one of the strongest disbelieving reactions was coming from Vale. “Thiscontinuum was already almost ten billion years old before the first signs of life appeared on Earth,” she said.
“Or Qo’noS,” Tchev said, nodding in agreement.
“So how could any life, intelligent or not, appear so quickly in such a young universe?” Vale concluded.
Cethente spoke up. “Time flows at varying rates in different universes, Commander. The equivalent of many billions of years may have already passed within the confines of this protouniverse.”
“The Sleeper emerges from his slumbers only after billions-year-long intervals,” Frane said, delivering this pronouncement in the same matter-of-fact manner that Jaza or Cethente might make a scientific report.
“So what are you saying?” Vale asked, facing the science team. “That this…baby universe is giving off something that looks like brainwave patterns?”
“Not exactly,” Jaza said. “But there are other easily-recognizable signs of emergent life, and these generally converge with intelligence. Highly organized replication patterns that occur far more frequently than nonliving processes could possibly account for. Nonrandom energy generation and consumption curves. Vast pockets of accumulating negative entropy, as well as numerous other extreme and sustained environmental disequilibriums, similar to those we can detect at galactic distances, in such things as the spectra of M-Class planets. So far as we know, those sorts of environments cannot come into being except via biological processes.”
Troi offered a tentative nod, granting at least part of Jaza’s point. “But we’ve founds lots of blue planets where microbes and plants are the crown of creation. The biological processes that create M-Class environments don’t necessarily imply the existence of intelligence.”
“No, but we’ve turned up other patterns that do,”Cethente said. “For instance, we’ve detected complex, highly organized, orderly releases of power. Not to mention significant, otherwise unexplainable releases of neuromagnetic energy.”
Jaza nodded. “Taken together, these readings look a lot like the ones taken ten years ago aboard DS9. And just like that incident, it’s a safe bet that thisprotouniverse has already developed at least some sort of awareness.”