TNG 16 - Contamination (c) by Star Trek

Author:Star Trek [Star Trek]
Language: deu
Format: epub
Tags: \Star Trek
Publisher: Pocket Books
Published: 2011-01-02T07:59:43.571000+00:00

Trapped inside the class-zero pod, his air thinning to the point where standing in a crouch was making him dizzy, Wesley Crusher worked feverishly. The pod had been idle since Lynn Costa’s death, but Wes was throwing together its standard components—specimen receptacles, monitoring equipment, robotic shakers, and sterile tubing—to begin a new experiment.

The computer controls were outside the container, and Wesley couldn’t manipulate them by either voice or hand. What a time to be without a communicator! He tried to forget his problems and concentrate on what he knew about these computer subsystems, one of the few subsystems that were so complex they were kept apart from the main computer to avoid taxing it. Nevertheless, Wes knew the pod’s computer was never totally “off” and that it was set by default to respond to certain types of experiments at all times. Wesley figured he could rig a small experiment that would trip the monitoring equipment. Maybe, hoped the teenager, if the experiment became contaminated, it would set off an alarm.

If it didn’t, he’d be the next experiment.

Wesley rigged up the simplest experiment he could think of, an organic/inorganic particle detector set to go berserk at the wrong kind of contamination. He removed a circuit board from a particle counter and set its switches manually to default to inorganic matter. That way, the slightest detection of organic matter would set it off. He hoped. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about programming the environment; his own body and what little oxygen was left would furnish that. Unfortunately, there would be no way of judging his success until he—or someone—heard the alarm. Wesley tried not to think of what would happen if no one heard.

He slipped the board back into the particle counter and held his breath waiting for the indicator lights to shine. He was hardly breathing by the time they finally did, and it wasn’t due solely to excitement. At the tip of a robotic arm, Wesley found the tiny receptacle he had installed as the collector, and he tapped it with his fingertip to make sure it was awake. There were many ways he could have chosen to contaminate it, but sometimes the simplest is the best. Wesley took dead aim at the funnel and spat.

It took two attempts to really load it with spittle. More than that would be overkill, decided the boy, slumping to the floor. He tried to modulate his breathing, because there wasn’t anything else to do but sit and wait—and breathe until he was rescued or the air was all gone.

Wes fought off weariness and tried to stay alert to any movement outside the pod. The gray tint of the glass was light enough to let him see just past the window to the class-one-hundred cleanroom beyond. If the alarm was going off, someone should be appearing out there just about now. . . . Wes clicked his fingers.

And an apparition in white stared down at him through a bubble visor. Wes blinked in amazement as the angelic vision straightened up and moved to the control panel.

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