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"Thank you." Volker took his seat again. "Now, if you're quite finished here, I a.s.sume you're going to be off in a puff of smoke?"
"Not quite yet, if it pleases you."
The new duke scowled. "It doesn't, really, but if you're as powerful as you claim, I don't suppose that'll stop you. So what more do you want?"
"Before I could bind him," Picard replied, "the fiend Randolph cast a spell and began a magical attack on my vessel. I must remove that spell so that we can leave. He spoke of a magical place below the castle."
Things were starting to fall into place for Volker now. "Ah! Now I begin to understand some of what I have witnessed this day. You and your allies are fighting a sorcerous warfare with Randolph. And you sent other magicians here before you, didn't you?"
"They are here?"
"I saw them walk through a wall in the dungeons with another prisoner, a slave named Rosalinde."
"And Ro as well!" Picard beamed. "Excellent. If you don't mind?" He tapped his communicator. "Picard to Riker. Come in, Will."
Volker jumped as Riker's voice replied from thin air. The terrified guards drew away from Data, Picard, and Kirsch. Even Kirsch looked scared.
"Captain! It's good to hear from you."
"You, too, Number One. Where are you?"
Riker looked around. "In the Preservers' chamber," he replied. "It's astonis.h.i.+ng, Captain. Deanna and Ro are with me."
"So I gathered." Picard's voice was grim. "I've spoken with Geordi. The Enterprise is currently under attack by some form of gravity mines. Apparently the poachers set them into motion from that control room you're in but never learned how to stop them. Do you think you can manage that part?"
"With respect, Captain, I doubt it. This place is way beyond anything I've ever experienced."
"That's not very good news, Number One."
"Sorry, Captain, but it's all I can offer."
There was a pause, and then: "Understood. Look around. I'll be in touch. Picard out."
"Talk about tall orders," Ro said. She crossed to the nearest panel. "It'll take us weeks just to figure the language out, let alone how to work the place."
"And we don't even know which of these machines is controlling the attack," agreed Riker. "Well, you heard the captain-let's look around."
"What are we looking for?" asked Ro.
"I'll let you know when I know." Riker moved out to scan whatever he could.
The bridge was quite a mess. Geordi shook his head. The captain wasn't going to be too happy when he returned. He liked a clean and tidy s.h.i.+p. Still, maybe he'd settle for just having any s.h.i.+p at all. If he still had one when he came back... .
"Sir!" Van Popering looked up from his panel, his face pale. "I'm getting readings. There are five more of those mines heading for us. Estimated time to contact -eighteen minutes."
"Oh, d.a.m.n." Geordi stared at the main screen as the computer began to detail their positions. "Now we're really in for it... ."
Chapter Twenty-two.
PICARD DIDN'T LIKE playing the role that fate seemed to have a.s.signed to him, but he had very little choice in the matter. If these people believed in magic, then he'd have to do a little magic for them. Thankfully they were accepting his conversations with Riker and Geordi as being some kind of sorcery that was only to be expected.
"Geordi," he asked, "what's the situation up there?"
"I'd not hesitate to describe it as grave, Captain. We're in bad shape to stand up to another attack, and we're going to get one in seventeen minutes."
"Understood, Mr. La Forge. I'll see what we can do down here." Picard glanced at Data. "Data, do you think you could turn off the Preservers' machines if you were to join Commander Riker?"
"It is hardly likely, sir," Data replied. "The language of the Preservers is based on musical notes and a symbolic form of representation. It is not a logical language. I have scanned all known translations of Preserver script, and that amounts to barely three hundred words. Few of them are technical terms."
Picard had been afraid of something like that. "Then perhaps if we beamed this Randolph fellow down, he could point out which machine at least he started the attack from. Perhaps you and Will together could turn it off."
"With all due respect, Lukas," Kirsch interrupted, "but I'd hardly say Randolph was to be trusted. He would probably lie about which spell he cast."
"True." And there was no guarantee that in the few minutes Data and Riker would have that they wouldn't make matters worse instead of better. With a sigh he turned to face his android officer. "It looks as if we're going to have to destroy the Preservers' control center to stop those mines."
"I concur."
"If we do," Picard asked, "will it affect this planet in any way? Is it possible that the Preservers somehow created this bubble and put this planet here?"
"No, Captain," Data replied. "This bubble-as you call it-exists in a stable area of the cloud. I am certain than destroying the Preservers machinery will in no way jeopardize the existence of this planet."
"I hate doing it," Picard complained. "It goes against the grain. Still, we have very little option right now. Unless you think you could get down there and turn off the machine?"
Data shook his head. "The odds are not favorable. Commander Riker did inform us that there are over a hundred machines. I would need approximately one hour and thirty seven minutes to examine them all. There is thus only an approximate fifteen percent chance that I would be able to locate the correct mechanism. And as I remarked, there is no guarantee that I should be able to translate the instructions to turn it off."
"Then we can rule it out." Picard considered. "What about using the s.h.i.+p's phasers to take out the control area?"
"Again, there is a low probability of success," Data replied. "Given the poor state of our sensor ability at this point in time, there is a very real chance that we would wipe out a large section of the city-and still a finite probability that we would miss the target entirely."
Picard sighed. "There go photon torpedoes as well. Then it would have to be a bomb, I suppose."
"I agree. A small, low-yield matter-antimatter device would suffice. It would need to be placed by hand." Data gave him a hard look. "The resulting explosion is bound to cause serious damage-if not total destruction-to this castle."
"I was rather afraid it might." Picard tapped his communicator again. "Mr. La Forge, I will need an explosive device to destroy the Preservers' equipment. Mr. Data will give you the technical requirements."
"Destroy the place?" Geordi's voice was filled with disappointment. "Captain, isn't there any other way?"
"Don't I wish that there were! But we've little choice if we're to save the Enterprise, Geordi." Picard moved back to where Volker sat. "I'm afraid that I have bad news for you."
"Oh?" Volker stared back at him. "There's going to be a plague of locusts, perhaps? Or it's going to rain snakes?"
"Nothing like that." Picard gave him a thin smile. "The magic that Randolph worked here was so terrible that I'm afraid I have to destroy the entire place. You must get all of your men out of here-now. Do not stop to take anything with you, because in fifteen minutes this place will be consumed in fire and brimstone."
Jumping to his feet, Volker cried: "You must be insane! I've only just taken this castle. Do you think I'm going to abandon it simply on the word of a self-claimed magician?"
"My lord," Kirsch said placatingly. "Lukas would not lie to you. He knows you would kill him if he did. Instead, I beseech you, recall the story of Lot and the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. They were consumed in fire and brimstone, and only those who fled were spared."
"I'm not going," said Volker stubbornly. "It's my castle, and I won't give it up."
Cursing the man's vanity and greed, Picard tapped his communicator again. "Mr. Worf, you are to bring the explosive device down to the planet. Get a costume from Smolinske and beam down with the device to my location as quickly as possible."
"Yes, Captain!" Worf could not keep the excitement from his voice. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for!
"Picard to Smolinske."
"Go ahead, Captain."
"I want you to whip up an outfit for Mr. Worf," he ordered. "Fast. He's beaming down now."
"Worf?" she repeated. "You've got to be kidding, right?"
"This isn't a joke, Smolinske," Picard snapped. "I want him here as a demon from h.e.l.l, or something equally magical and terrifying. You've got that?"
"Will do."
Picard turned back to Volker. "I'm going to prove to you that what I have told you is true," he said. "In return, I want you to begin evacuation of the castle. Get everyone out of the rooms and either have them a.s.semble here or in the courtyard."
Volker scowled. "Very well, Lukas. I will do that. But if you do not convince me, then I shall kill you for making me look a fool."
"I'll take that chance."
Volker nodded. "Good. I'm beginning to like you, Lukas. You have courage, at any rate." He addressed the guards: "Right-get moving. I want everyone inside the castle to gather in the courtyard, and I want it done now. Warn everyone that anyone who delays by as much as a minute will be killed. Move!"
They moved like lightning.
Picard handed the spare communicator to Kirsch. "Michael, please place this on Miles once you are outside. It is the only way he'll be able to return to my s.h.i.+p."
"I shall," Kirsch promised. He paused, as if about to say more. Then he simply turned and dashed for the door, in the wake of the others.
Worf strode into Stores, a happy smile on his face. "I am to beam down to the planet," he announced loudly. "Is my costume prepared?"
Smolinske nodded. "On the table there."
Staring hard at the small pile of clothing Worf frowned. "Surely there is some mistake?" he demanded. "I thought I was to wear a suit of armor and go accoutred as a warrior!"
"I don't know what you're thinking about," Smolinske told him, "but I do know what my orders are. That's your costume. If you've got any complaints, tell the captain, not me."
Worf was stunned. All his hopes had been dashed. Not only would he not be descending to the planet as a warrior, but he was apparently expected to wear ...
No! It was too much for a Klingon's pride! He glowered at Smolinske. "I am not happy. We shall have words about this when my mission is over. That is a promise."
Riker still couldn't get over his awe of this place. The Preservers built on a vast scale. The room was simply overwhelming. Deanna was walking around it in a daze again. Ro was searching it for anything loose that she could take when they had to leave.
"Picard to Riker."
Hitting his communicator, Riker acknowledged the call. "We've not found any obvious computer that's guiding the attack, I'm afraid," he reported.
"All right, Will. You've done your best. I want the three of you to return to the s.h.i.+p now."
"But, Captain-"
"That's an order, Mr. Riker." Picard's voice was firm. "Get out of there. I have enough problems without having to worry about you making it out on time."
"Acknowledged." Riker stared at Deanna, who was still lost in her mental probing. Crossing to her, he touched her arm gently. "We have to leave."
That brought her out of it. There was pain in her eyes, and tears on the verge of flowing. "No!" she cried. "Not now. I'm getting there, I know I am, Will. A little longer, and I'm sure I can make them notice us."
"We don't have that time." Riker caught Ro's eye and motioned her to join him. "It's time to go."
"Good." She marched briskly over. "I'm getting very sick of this planet. And these clothes."
Riker triggered his communicator, keeping a tight grip on Deanna's arm. She sometimes acted unpredictably when lost in her Betazoid nature. "Mr. O'Brien, three to beam up."
"Aye, sir."
Tears rolled down Deanna's face uncontrollably. "Good-bye," she whispered. Would she ever find this kind of mind again? The destruction of the vault would not kill it, because it wasn't exactly alive. It was only a fragment of a greater mind that was very much alive elsewhere. She only wished she knew where that might be.
Then the transporter grabbed her, breaking her contact with the Preserver fragment.
Five minutes to go ... Picard was getting very tense. The castle personnel were almost all outside now. Only Volker, two guards, and Kirsch remained with him and Data. Kirsch had returned after pinning the communicator to Miles. Picard had instantly ordered the injured lieutenant beamed directly up into sickbay.
What the blazes was keeping Worf? He slapped his communicator. "Worf!" he barked. "Where are you?"
"Just entering Transporter Room Three, Captain. I have the device."
"Beam down immediately."
"Aye, sir." Worf sounded very angry. "I am going to kill her for this," he muttered.
Picard had no idea why Worf was so annoyed, but he frankly didn't care. Turning to Volker, he said: "I am going to call down from the heavens the spirit who will destroy this place. This is a very powerful being, whose name you must not utter." Throwing his arms into the air dramatically, he cried out: " 'By the p.r.i.c.king of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes!' "
Data twitched slightly. "Macbeth, Act Four, Scene One," he murmured. The captain's devotion to Shakespeare was well known aboard the s.h.i.+p-but the Bard was naturally unknown here.
There was the familiar glow of the transporter beam, and then the irate figure of Worf appeared. At his feet was a small canister. On his face was a glower of rage so potent that Kirsch, Volker, and the guards all howled and jumped back.
"What manner of creature is this?" Volker gasped.
I was wondering that myself, Picard thought. Now he could see why Worf was so annoyed.
Smolinske had indeed given him an outfit that suggested magic. He was dressed as a genie-long, baggy green trousers, a short darker-green jacket over his bare chest, and an imposing bright yellow turban piled on his head. His feet were encased in bottle-green slippers with toes that curled upward. Worf looked both imposing and ridiculous at the same time. The only thing that prevented Picard from cracking a smile was the furious glare that Worf cast about the room, as if daring anyone to laugh at him. For once, Picard envied Data his lack of emotion.
"Leave!" Worf yelled at the top of his voice. The castle walls didn't quite shake with the force of the blast. "Now!"