Star Trek: The Next Generation: Starfleet Academy #7: Secret of the Lizard People Read online

  The doctor nodded judiciously. “So you’re saying the survivors are all hiding somewhere, and we just haven’t stumbled across them yet. That could be, I suppose. And believe me, the physician in me hopes you’re right.”

  “But we won’t know for certain,” Majors reminded them, “until we find some of them.”

  Dr. Steinberg looked at him. “That’s true as well. I just wish they were a bit…”

  Data never heard the end of her sentence. He was too busy focusing on the faint sounds coming from the stretch of corridor just ahead of them. The faint scraping sounds.

  Sinna must have noticed some outward indication of his concentration, because she asked, “What is it?”

  The android shook his head. “I cannot say with any degree of certainty,” he replied. “However, I believe something or someone is moving toward us along the corridor.”

  The doctor shot a look back over her shoulder, but there was nothing there. Neither a sound nor any other sign of the station’s occupants. Turning to Data again, she asked, “Are you sure you heard something? It wasn’t your imagination?”

  “Technically, I do not have an imagination,” the android informed her. “Of course, it is possible for my auditory circuits to suffer a malfunction, but in this instance, I do not think that is the case.”

  “Wait,” said Petros. As she glanced past Data, her dark brows came together in concern. “I just heard something myself. Like a…” Her voice trailed off ominously.

  “A growl,” supplied the android, finishing the thought for her. After all, he had heard it too. Even as he spoke, he heard a third such sound. And a fourth.

  By then, it seemed, the entire team had heard because the doctor started back along the corridor in the direction of their shuttlecraft.

  The growling—from both directions, but in particular from ahead of them—grew louder and fiercer with each passing second. Data stole a look at Majors, who seemed every bit as determined and focused as before. Taking heed of the cadet’s example, the android held his phaser ahead of him and readied himself for whatever they might encounter.

  Even so, he was surprised by the suddenness with which they were attacked. Before he knew it, the corridor was full of what looked like two-legged lizards—large, powerful creatures with scaly yellow skin and slitted purple eyes.

  The doctor was barking orders at the cadets as they tried to catch up to the darting lizard forms with their phaser beams. Data only heard snatches of her words over the din of their adversaries’ deep-throated snarls.

  “… back to back … break formation or they’ll … that it’s just practice … each shot count …”

  After their initial confusion was over, the cadets began to connect with their targets. But the phaser blasts didn’t seem to faze the lizard beings. And once they realized that, they came on with renewed fury.

  “Heavy stun!” cried Dr. Steinberg at the top of her lungs, and the cadets tried to do as she told them. But there was no time—the lizard creatures were all over them, pounding and clubbing them with their fists, gouging and slashing at them with their claws.

  The raw brutality of the assault took its toll on the android’s companions. Sinna took a blow to the head and crumbled. Majors was slammed into a bulkhead. Petros’s arm was wrenched up behind her, forcing a scream out of her, and the doctor was lifted high into the air, where her antagonist glared at her with saliva dripping from its maw.

  Data didn’t wait to see what the lizard creature had in mind for Dr. Steinberg. Bringing his superhuman strength into play, he grabbed the arm that held the physician aloft and, with his other hand, slugged his scaly adversary across the mouth.

  The impact was enough to make the lizard being release Dr. Steinberg and recoil. But a moment later, as the android caught the medical officer in his arms, the creature recovered and leaped for his throat.

  Sweeping Dr. Steinberg behind him, Data caught one of his opponent’s wrists and whipped him toward a bulkhead. Had he taken the time to watch the lizard being’s progress, he no doubt would have seen it hit the metallic surface and slump to the deck.

  But he didn’t have the time. He was too busy bracing himself for the attack of two other creatures. He fended off the first of them with a backhanded smash. The other managed to get a sharp-clawed grip on his arm.

  The android was about to take hold of the lizard being by the scruff of its scaly neck and fling it away when he was filled with a sensation unlike any he’d ever known. It was as if a powerful electrical charge was running through him, savaging the workings of his neural net, disrupting his most basic functions.

  Even as Data sank to his knees, no longer in control of his own limbs, he realized that the electrical emission had come from the creature holding on to his arm. Of course, it had no way of knowing how effective its emission would be, or that it would disable him a thousand times more surely than any brute force the lizard beings could have brought against him.

  Taking note of his helplessness, another creature jumped him. And another. Unable to defend himself, he could only watch as they tore at his containment suit, and speculate as to what it would be like when they got past it and began tearing at him.

  Abruptly, one of his antagonists was thrown clear of him. The other two were ripped loose as well, in quick succession. Incapable of even turning his head, the android could only see a trio of bright, red phaser beams crisscrossing in the air above him. And by that, he knew that all wasn’t lost quite yet.

  Apparently, his efforts had bought his comrades some time—enough to adjust their phasers to a higher setting, which was proving somewhat more effective against the lizard beings. Lying face up on the deck, Data observed the creatures’ abrupt departure out of the corner of his eye.

  In a matter of only a few short moments, the corridor was clear of them. The only ones left standing were Dr. Steinberg and the three human cadets. Kneeling beside the android, the medical officer ran her tricorder over him. She seemed pale and her hair was in some disarray, but her concern for him seemed to override any of her other worries.

  “What happened to him?” asked Sinna, not even bothering to try to disguise the anxiety in her voice. “He seemed to be doing fine, and then…” Her voice trailed off ominously.

  Dr. Steinberg frowned. “I don’t know enough about him to make any kind of detailed diagnosis. However, it seems he suffered some kind of electrical shock—one that was powerful enough to upset the delicate electronics in his artificial nervous system.”

  Data was unable to speak or he would have confirmed her findings. As it was, he wouldn’t have had time to do so because a moment later, he heard the same sort of growling that had alerted them to the lizard beings’ attack.

  “It’s them again,” announced Petros. She turned to the medical officer. “What do we do?” she asked.

  Dr. Steinberg cast a troubled glance in the direction of the growling sounds. “We go the other way,” she decided.

  But there was no guarantee that that way wouldn’t be full of lizard beings soon as well. Perhaps it already was, the android reflected.

  “Wait,” said Sinna, apparently thinking along the same lines. She pointed to what seemed to be an access panel in the bulkhead. “If this station is like one of our ships, it’s got a network of tubes going through it for maintenance purposes—one that we can use as an alternative to the corridors. And that looks like a way in.”

  The medical officer looked at the panel, then at the Yanna, and then at the panel again. “There’s only one way to find out,” she reasoned. And without any further comment, she proceeded to the panel and attempted to work it free of its place in the bulkhead.

  The thing came out with surprising ease. The open space behind it was quite suggestive of a tunnel. It seemed increasingly likely to Data that Sinna’s theory was correct.

  Turning back to the cadets, Dr. Steinberg pointed to the android’s prone form. “Majors … Sinna … pick Data up and follow me in. Petros, you b
ring up the rear.”

  As Sinna bent to the task, Cadet Majors hesitated. “Sir,” he said, addressing his comment to the medical officer, “is it wise to try to take Data with us? He’ll slow us down considerably, and I doubt the lizard beings can do anything to him that they haven’t already done.”

  The android didn’t take the statement personally. He weighed it from an objective standpoint and came to the conclusion that Majors was probably correct in his assessment of the situation.

  However, Dr. Steinberg shook her head. “No,” she said firmly. “Data’s one of us. And we don’t leave our people behind, android or otherwise.”

  Majors looked as if he would have liked to press his case, but there wasn’t time. The growls were getting louder again. Picking up Data by his arms, the second-year cadet waited for Sinna to lift the android’s lower half. Then, when they had him securely, they brought him over to the opening in the bulkhead.

  “He’s a lot heavier … than he looks…” breathed Majors.

  Sinna no doubt thought so as well. But she didn’t say it. She just gazed down at Data with that worried expression. Perhaps she was right to be worried, the android mused. After all, no one knew when—or even if—he could be repaired.

  Inserting Data into the opening, Majors and Sinna crawled in past him. Then, with the Yanna and the second-year cadet dragging the android behind them, Petros pulled the panel back over the opening.

  Immediately, the party of five turned right and made its way along what looked like the inside of a long, white cylinder, perhaps two meters in diameter. The thing seemed to stretch for a long way in either direction.

  “Petros,” called Dr. Steinberg, her voice echoing in the confined space. “I want you to scan the tube behind you for those lizard creatures. I’ll do the same up here.”

  “Aye, sir,” said Cadet Petros.

  “Anything?” asked the physician.

  “Nothing here in the tube,” returned Petros. “But I’m reading several of them moving through the corridor on the other side of the bulkhead. Eight of them, to be exact. All together, like a pack.”

  Data heard Dr. Steinberg mutter something beneath her breath. Then, more loudly, she said, “I’m picking up a bunch of them out there, too. I’d say we’d be doing ourselves a favor by getting out of this area as soon as possible.”

  But she didn’t take her own advice—at least, not right away. Tapping her communicator, the medical officer called for Commander Sierra, no doubt to warn him about what they had encountered.

  There was no answer.

  She tried a second time.

  Again, no response.

  That meant one of two things, Data decided. Either the radiation was preventing Dr. Steinberg’s communication from going through … or something had happened to the first officer’s half of the away team. For the time being, there was no way of knowing which set of circumstances had prevailed.

  Apparently coming to the same conclusion, the doctor gave up on warning Commander Sierra for the moment and started off along the length of the tube. The others followed, with Data in tow.

  As they proceeded, the android caught an upside-down glimpse of Glen Majors’s face every now and then, whenever his head lolled in the right direction. The cadet was scowling at him, no doubt displeased at having to expend precious energy on what must have seemed to him to be a lost cause.

  The android regretted being a burden. If he could have spoken, he would have said so. As it was, he would have to endure his helplessness in silence.

  “Petros,” called Dr. Steinberg. “How long have we been on the station?”

  There was a pause. “A little more than an hour,” came the response. “Less than five hours to go before the super-Jovian planet ignition,” Petros volunteered, obviously seeing through to the reason for the medical officer’s question.

  Five hours to the super-Jovian planet ignition, thought Data … and the end of their mission, if not their lives. After all, if they didn’t get back to the shuttle in time, they and the rest of the station would be destroyed when the planet became a sun.

  No sooner had that grim notion crossed his mind than he felt the fingers on his right hand twitch. Focusing his attention on them, he felt them move again—this time, at his command.

  Was it possible that he was regaining control of his body? That the effects of the electrical charge that had disabled him were only temporary?

  “Data!” gasped Sinna, her eyes wide. She turned to look at Dr. Steinberg, who was up ahead of her. “I think he moved.”

  A moment later, they stopped dragging him. The medical officer’s face loomed above his as she ran her tricorder over him.

  “I do believe his situation’s improving,” she commented thoughtfully. She leaned close to the android’s ear. “Can you hear me, Data?”

  The android tried to speak. “Yes,” he croaked finally. “… hear you.”

  Steinberg smiled encouragingly. “I think,” she said, “the situation is very definitely improving.”

  CHAPTER

  5

  By the time the group reached another access panel leading to the corridor outside, Data had pretty much recovered. His reactions were still a trifle slower than they normally were, but he had full use of all his limbs, and he could speak normally again.

  “You know,” said Sinna, as they waited for Cadet Petros to scan the hallway for lizard beings, “I thought that might have been the end of you back there.” Her expression was clearly one of relief, with no sign of the resentment she had displayed for him over the past few days.

  The android returned her gaze. “I thought it was the end of me as well. Fortunately, my system proved more resilient than either of us anticipated.”

  “There’s no one in the corridor—at least, not for fifty meters in either direction,” reported Petros.

  Dr. Steinberg nodded approvingly. “All right. We should be far enough along now to take our chances out there. But first…”

  Tapping her communicator, she called for Commander Sierra. As before, there was no response. Apparently, the radiation was a barrier to communications in this area as well.

  “Oh, well,” she said, attempting to make light of the situation, though her concern was unmistakably etched in her face. “I guess we’re still on our own, aren’t we?”

  “It would be nice,” Majors remarked, “if we had some idea of where these creatures came from. They’re obviously too primitive to be the aliens who sent the Mayday signal.”

  “Yes,” agreed Petros. “Or, for that matter, to have staged an invasion of the station. So what are they?”

  Data turned to her. “I have been pondering that question myself,” he confessed. “It is possible that the lizard beings began as live cargo … kept in some sort of containers, perhaps. When the station collided with the asteroid, these containers may have been damaged, allowing the creatures to escape.”

  “An interesting theory,” allowed the medical officer. “Though until we find some evidence to back it up, it’s not much more than that.”

  “Right now,” Majors noted, “the more important question is who did send the signal and where are they? All dead, destroyed by the creatures? Or just hiding from them in another part of the station?”

  Even before he could complete his question, Cadet Petros was scanning the area for nonlizard life-forms. Given their failure to locate the station’s inhabitants earlier, Data didn’t expect any positive results.

  Nonetheless, there was a faint smile on Petros’s face as she looked up from her tricorder. “I think I found some of them,” she told the others.

  “Where?” asked Dr. Steinberg.

  The cadet focused her attention on her tricorder again and used her free hand to point. “Over there,” she said, indicating a point almost directly beyond the access panel.

  The android and his companions looked at one another. “What are we waiting for?” asked the medical officer. “Let’s go.”

  Cade
t Majors removed the access panel. One by one, they slipped out of the tube that had been their salvation—first Data, then Sinna, then Petros and Steinberg. And when the last of them had emerged into the corridor, Majors put the access panel back in place.

  “This way,” announced Petros, intent on her tricorder again. She made a left turn and walked purposefully down the corridor.

  The android saw Cadet Majors look around warily, so he did the same. Even though their scan hadn’t turned up the presence of any lizard beings, Data knew it was advisable to remain alert.

  A moment later, however, they reached their destination: a pair of large, silver doors set into the bulkhead. Together, the doors made up a perfect semicircle.

  “For a while there,” Dr. Steinberg commented, “I was beginning to think this place didn’t have any entrance or exits—just an unending series of corridors.”

  “Do you think they open like the doors to the shuttlebay?” asked Sinna, taking a step closer to them.

  As if in answer to her question, the silver surfaces slid apart, revealing a room beyond. The Yanna muttered something beneath her breath as she led the way inside. It wasn’t long before the others followed, with Data bringing up the rear. No sooner had he crossed the threshold than the doors slid closed behind him.

  The place was much larger than the android had expected. Enclosed in a huge, transparent dome that made it seem open to the stars, it contained an impressive variety of trees, shrubs, and flowers arranged in a neat and orderly fashion.

  Plant life was everywhere in thick profusion, each specimen distinguished by a different color and shape and texture. Some of them displayed flowers or leaves and some had more exotic appendages, but all were recognizable as living, growing flora.

  “What do you think this is?” asked Petros, turning as she looked around. “Some sort of botanical garden?”

  Data would have answered in the affirmative, but he didn’t want to take a chance on being wrong. Majors already had seen him at his most useless; he didn’t want to expose any more of his flaws by supporting the wrong conclusion.