By the Book (4 page)

Hoshi grinned at him from her console. "That's no longer a puzzle, Captain. It's easier to explain something I understand than something I haven't yet figured out."

"That's all right," Archer said, finishing his stew and setting the plate beside the chair. Porthos didn't even wake up. "I don't buy T'Pol's argument anyway. Humans spent a lot of time searching the skies back before the Vulcans arrived."

"You searched for bombs from your enemies," T'Pol said. "And only in low orbits. We are above even that level at the moment. The Fazi would have no reason to see us, other than by chance."

"That doesn't seem quite right to me," Reed said. "After all, they have the ability to go into space. Why would they assume that no one else does?"

"Well, no one else on their planet does," Trip said, taking a different side in the argument.

Archer smiled. Predictably, Trip's vacillation distracted T'Pol.

"I thought you believed that my argument was incorrect," she said.

"Never said that." Trip's hand appeared in the aisle and groped for another tool, not finding it. "The captain said that."

"I didn't say it was incorrect," Archer said, suppressing a grin. "I said I didn't buy it."

"Well, I'm beginning to buy it," Hoshi said. "This society is more structured than anything I could have ever imagined developing. In fact I have no idea why it did, but that's for later research."

"Okay, I missed the connection," Archer said. "What does being structured have to do with not seeing us?"

Beside him, Porthos grunted and rolled over. He licked his chops, but his eyes were still closed.

"Because," Hoshi said, bending down to hand Trip the tool he'd been groping for, "for them to look for us, it would have to have been planned, carefully, and in great detail."

"Now you lost me," Archer said.

"Yeah, me too," Trip said, coming out from under the board and closing up the panel. "How can you plan to look for something you don't know exists?"

"Exactly," Hoshi said as she turned from her panel to face Archer and the rest of the bridge crew. "Every sentence of their language has an exact structure. And the structure dictates meaning of the sentence, sometimes even more than the words. Two words simply inverted can change the entire meaning of a phrase."

"Got that much," Archer said, "but I'm not following why that would mean they wouldn't see us up here."

"There is only one word for anything they do," Hoshi said, "unlike most Earth languages, which often have two or three or more words for any given act."

Archer motioned for her to get on with her idea.

"Every word the Fazi use has an exact meaning. It seems to me that every single thought of these people is controlled by the structure of their language."

"I thought that's how all languages worked," Trip said. "We're always trying to overcome our preconceived notions as expressed in our language."

Archer raised an eyebrow. Occasionally Trip dropped his rough-edged Southerner exterior and showed the intelligence that lurked beneath. He usually didn't realize when he'd done it.

"Yes and no," Hoshi said. "Most languages adapt to change quickly-inventing new terms or adopting them from other languages. I'm not even sure this one can do that. The Fazi language structure, from what T'Pol and Reed have discovered, also carries through to every detail in the Fazi world. Right?"

"It does seem that way," Reed said. "The roads are uniform. The cities are perfectly laid out, and the patterns of repetition of services are everywhere. Even their broadcasts are exact and very structured."

"And in all the broadcasts we've listened to, and that we have scanned," Hoshi said, "we haven't found one word about art, or one note of music, or one mention of a sport."

"How dull," Reed said.

"No kidding," Trip said.

"You'd think they'd play games," Archer said. "Games are structured."

"But the outcomes are not," T'Pol said. "My research shows that this culture believes in control and precision. An unexpected outcome violates their sense of structure."

"So unless it was planned to look at this exact location in the sky, no one would do so?" Archer asked.

"That would be my guess," Hoshi said.

"Makes Vulcan society look downright free-form," Trip said, then laughed at the blank stare from T'Pol.

Archer sat back and stared at the images of the planet rotating past on the screen. "Seems we're about ready for a first contact."

"I would strongly advise against it," T'Pol said.

"Why?" Archer asked, glancing back at the Vulcan subcommander.

"For precisely the reasons we discussed," T'Pol said. "A first contact might violate their sense of structure."

"They've got to be able to deal with surprises," Archer said. "No one's life can be planned to the nanosecond."

"You are making an assumption," T'Pol said. "We do not have enough information to make such a contact successful."

"What more do we need?" Archer asked. "We know they are not threatening or dangerous in any fashion. They are starting to work toward real spaceflight by testing warp engines. And we know they love set structure in their world. It would seem to me that your people didn't know much more about us."

"I'm afraid, Captain," Hoshi said, "I have to agree with T'Pol. I'm just not secure enough on all the details of the Fazi language to guarantee success."

Archer stared at Hoshi, then back at T'Pol.

"All right," Archer said, sighing and turning back to sit facing the big screen. "You've all got another twenty-four hours and I'll decide then, if they haven't already spotted us before then."

"Perfect," Trip said. "I got three different tests I can run."

"Just make sure to keep us ready to move if we have to," Archer said.

"Oh, trust me," Trip said as he headed for the lift, "we're more than ready to move."

The sound of licking came from the floor below. Porthos was no longer asleep. He was finishing the stew in Archer's bowl.

"Porth-oh, never mind," Archer said. After all, he'd set the bowl there. As far as Porthos was concerned, anything on the floor with food in it belonged to him. Archer had never disabused him of that notion.

Archer looked back up at the planet. He wanted to go down there so badly he vibrated with it. However, for the moment, it made more sense to trust his officers and their judgment. But controlling his own excitement about making a first contact with the Fazi was becoming harder and harder.

He picked up his bowl. Porthos looked at him expectantly. "Come on, boy," Archer said. "Let's go for a walk. I think we both need it."

As he left the bridge, he glanced at the other officers. All three hovered over their scanning equipment, lost in the search for information.

The laughing and the bolts banging on the table had either driven the remaining crew members from the mess area or brought them over to watch. Those who did watch wanted to give advice, and Cutler wouldn't allow it. She did offer them a chance to roll up and sit down, but she insisted that they'd have to start where the ship touched down instead of joining the adventure in progress.

Everyone declined, and one by one the kibitzers left.

The planet slowly displayed its colors outside the windows, intriguing in its strangeness. Cutler was used to seeing Earth-the big blue and white mass against the blackness of space-but she wasn't used to the hints of red, the shape of the continents, the way the clouds formed over this distinct ball.

She caught herself looking at it from time to time, remembering that there were other adventures in her life-real adventures, just waiting to be had.

"Waiting" was the key word. No one had told her that patience would be a virtue in space.

But the game was helping her, Mayweather, Anderson, and Novakovich kill time. Except for the loss of Anderson's first character, Mr. Doom, things had gone along smoothly. The players had managed to make it across the bridge and through a crossing in a road that had traps. Novakovich's player, Rust, had used one hand-grenade-like bomb to clear out a roadblock, and it had worked. Otherwise, all three players still had their full ammunition and weapons.

"Now you're approaching the outskirts of the ruined Martian city," Cutler said, describing the scene that faced them. "The main road in front of you goes between tall buildings, with lots of debris in the street. There is a staircase entrance on the right side of the street that goes down into a subway system."

"What about going up?" Anderson asked. He was proving her most inquisitive and competitive player. "Are the buildings connected?"

Cutler tried not to show her surprise. She had designed the path into the city to have three main routes, underground, surface, and through the connecting bridges between the buildings. But she hadn't planned on telling the players about the connecting bridges unless they asked. And she hadn't expected anyone to ask so soon.

"The buildings are connected by sky bridges in most cases," Cutler said, "Some of the sky bridges are in need of repair, just as the rest of the buildings in this ruined old city are."

The players sat in silence for a moment, all clearly thinking. Novakovich checked his padd as if it gave him answers about where he was going. All it did, of course, was tell him where he'd been. He was the only one who assiduously followed her advice to map their progression. The others had dropped that suggestion in the game's first real hour.

Finally Mayweather said, "I vote we stay together and stay on the ground."

"Why?" Anderson asked. "Seems to me going up would be the safest way."

"We can always go inside and up," Mayweather said. "I think we should make as much ground out in the open, where we can see what's coming at us."

"Yeah," Novakovich said. "I like that idea. Rust is sticking with Unk."

"Sounds good to me," Anderson said. "Dr. Mean is with Unk as well. Let's go in on the ground."

Cutler sighed with relief. So far, these guys worked well as a team. She remembered from her childhood days players who squabbled about every fork in the road. In fact, she remembered that better than she remembered the rules.

Maybe these players worked well together in the game because they had to in real life. They knew the value of teamwork, even if no one was directly in charge.

"Ahead of you one block is a large pile of what looks to be wrecked transportation vehicles," Cutler said, looking at her notes. "These vehicles are long and narrow, and were designed to carry a lot of passengers. The pileup fills most of the street."

"Lots of options now," Anderson said, rubbing his hands together. "We can try to go over, we can go down a side street, in either direction, or into a building."

"How about through the pile?" Mayweather asked.

"Through?" Novakovich asked.

"Sure," Mayweather said, smiling at Cutler. "You said these were long and narrow. Can we go through the pile?"

"You can try," Cutler said. She was trying to be mysterious. She noted that, earlier in the game, she had given away the best route just through her tone of voice.

"Unk's going through," Mayweather said.

"Lead the way," Anderson said.

"Rust is right behind you."

Cutler checked her notes again. These three were getting off to a pretty good start, at least so far. She had planned that if they did try to go through, they would meet one blocked door. She told them about the transport door that was stuck closed.

"Rust is the strongest," Novakovich said. "Any harm in trying to just pull it open?"

"None," Cutler said, "but it won't open. You would have to have someone with a strength of at least eight to budge it."

"Where's Hoshi's character when you need her?" Anderson asked.

"Waiting, just like we are, while she's having a real adventure," Mayweather said.

The players glanced at the planet again. It dominated the mess hall, which had grown colder as people left. The smell of dinner was finally receding as well, although the acrid scent of the soap used on the dishes still remained.

"I'm not real sure Hoshi's considering her difficulties an adventure," Anderson said.

"Yeah," Novakovich said. "I hear she's been having some real troubles with this one."

"I thought she was some kind of genius when it came to language," Anderson said. "How come she can't get this one?"

"Maybe for the same reason she said there couldn't be a Universal Translator. Maybe the languages she knows and the language these Fazi speak don't have enough commonalities," Cutler said, feeling the need to defend Hoshi.

"You'd think they would," Mayweather said. "I mean, she knows more languages than anyone I've ever heard of."

Cutler nodded as Novakovich rubbed at his face with the heel of his hand. Clearly Dr. Phlox had told him not to scratch, and just as clearly Novakovich's sand pimples itched.

"Well, you guys don't have Hoshi anymore," Novakovich said, "and Rust only has a strength of six. So we have to figure out how to open this door."

Cutler gave him a grateful smile. She was glad to return to the game, even though she shot one last look at the planet.

"How about blowing the door open?" Anderson asked.

"Possible," Cutler said, still using her mysterious voice.

"And the chance of bringing the entire wreckage down on top of us?" Mayweather asked.

"Also possible." She smiled at Mayweather and didn't tell him just how likely that was, since characters in this situation wouldn't know.

"I think we should just turn back and go around," Novakovich said. "Try a side street."

Mayweather nodded, but Anderson wasn't so sure. "You two go back outside the wreckage and wait. I'll set the grenade and run. I have four seconds, don't I?"

Cutler nodded. The grenades they were carrying in this game did have that kind of delay.

"Good, I should be mostly out of the wreckage by the time it blows."

"You going to try that?" Cutler asked, sounding more anxious than she planned. She tried not to look alarmed that she had once again indicated their course.