was like revving up an old digital recording from centuries back on a machine that skipped and lurched from one section to the next.
If I think it’s tough to listen to, imagine what it must be like for 111.
“You’re not considering the obvious, you know. What if it’s not another computer?” Jadzia gave an adamant toss of her head that set her earring flashing in the light. “What if 110’s in contact with a Prophet? We’ve always hypothesized this possibility, that the Prophets are coherent energy. The Androssi specialize in using quantum dimensional shifts. But who’s to say that their tinkering didn’t open up a rift that connects us with the Prophets?”
“That is a logical hypothesis,” said Salek.
“Yeah, but with only one way to prove it,” said Kane. She looked at 111 who shrank back perceptibly and in a way that Gold suddenly felt, keenly, how much they were using the Bynars to their advantage: not as partners but tools. “111 has to be willing to try communing with him.”
“What…perhaps…” The Bynar quailed. “This might…be…infection. Not…a Prophet.”
Kane made an impatient sound, and Jadzia opened her mouth but Gold silenced her with a look. Hunkering down on his haunches, he brought his face level with 111’s. “It might be an infection. You’re right to be frightened. No one blames you for that. Hell, it shows good sense. But 110’s not coming out of it. Kane can’t help him. We humans value love. I don’t know about Bynaus, and I can’t know your heart. But what price are you willing to pay to help your bondmate?”
So was that a cheap shot, or what? Gold, you hypocrite. He watched 111’s struggle, hating himself more with every passing second. He was very conscious of the ring squeezing his finger. Or do I really mean that; if I had a second chance, would I —?
He was saved from finishing the thought. 111’s throat moved in a hard, convulsive swallow. “I wish…I will…I will try. ”
“All right.” Gold nodded. He didn’t think that what he felt was relief. More like…dread. No, more than that even: Finality.
Because one way or the other, I’ve just got this feeling. This will end. Soon.
Gomez said, “I’m not imagining things.”
A pause, and then Conlon said, “I didn’t say that.” She didn’t sound convinced, though.
Nog said, “Neither did I.” He didn’t sound convinced either.
“Don’t look at me,” said Hawkins. “I’m just a dumb jock.”
Gomez ignored him. “Yeah. But? And? ”
“ And, ” Conlon tapped her tricorder, “there’s no evidence anywhere that there was another phased matter stream. All I’ve got is you.”
Nog said, “I checked after you called from the Kwolek, and I’ve checked again, just now, when you beamed back.” He held up his tricorder, screen out, so Gomez could see the readings. “See for yourself, you don’t believe me.”
“I believe you,” said Gomez. She had no choice; her tricorder showed the same readings. “It’s still a possibility. Let’s just think a sec. Besides biofilters and phase transition coils, what else does a transporter have that nothing else on board the ship does?”
“A Heisenberg Compensator,” Conlon said, promptly. “So?”
“ So, what’s the compensator for?” She answered her own question. “It’s designed to make up for changes you make on a quantum level whenever you use a transporter. The Heisenberg uncertainty principle says that you can’t know everything about a particle at once, not with any accuracy.”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Conlon. She looked faintly annoyed, too. Like Gomez was a teacher trying to catch her out for not studying. “The principle stipulates that you can measure either position or angular momentum but not both. The more you measure one aspect of a particle state, the less you know about another. The compensator is designed to override the inevitable informational drift. Doesn’t tell you anything; just gives you
If I think it’s tough to listen to, imagine what it must be like for 111.
“You’re not considering the obvious, you know. What if it’s not another computer?” Jadzia gave an adamant toss of her head that set her earring flashing in the light. “What if 110’s in contact with a Prophet? We’ve always hypothesized this possibility, that the Prophets are coherent energy. The Androssi specialize in using quantum dimensional shifts. But who’s to say that their tinkering didn’t open up a rift that connects us with the Prophets?”
“That is a logical hypothesis,” said Salek.
“Yeah, but with only one way to prove it,” said Kane. She looked at 111 who shrank back perceptibly and in a way that Gold suddenly felt, keenly, how much they were using the Bynars to their advantage: not as partners but tools. “111 has to be willing to try communing with him.”
“What…perhaps…” The Bynar quailed. “This might…be…infection. Not…a Prophet.”
Kane made an impatient sound, and Jadzia opened her mouth but Gold silenced her with a look. Hunkering down on his haunches, he brought his face level with 111’s. “It might be an infection. You’re right to be frightened. No one blames you for that. Hell, it shows good sense. But 110’s not coming out of it. Kane can’t help him. We humans value love. I don’t know about Bynaus, and I can’t know your heart. But what price are you willing to pay to help your bondmate?”
So was that a cheap shot, or what? Gold, you hypocrite. He watched 111’s struggle, hating himself more with every passing second. He was very conscious of the ring squeezing his finger. Or do I really mean that; if I had a second chance, would I —?
He was saved from finishing the thought. 111’s throat moved in a hard, convulsive swallow. “I wish…I will…I will try. ”
“All right.” Gold nodded. He didn’t think that what he felt was relief. More like…dread. No, more than that even: Finality.
Because one way or the other, I’ve just got this feeling. This will end. Soon.
Gomez said, “I’m not imagining things.”
A pause, and then Conlon said, “I didn’t say that.” She didn’t sound convinced, though.
Nog said, “Neither did I.” He didn’t sound convinced either.
“Don’t look at me,” said Hawkins. “I’m just a dumb jock.”
Gomez ignored him. “Yeah. But? And? ”
“ And, ” Conlon tapped her tricorder, “there’s no evidence anywhere that there was another phased matter stream. All I’ve got is you.”
Nog said, “I checked after you called from the Kwolek, and I’ve checked again, just now, when you beamed back.” He held up his tricorder, screen out, so Gomez could see the readings. “See for yourself, you don’t believe me.”
“I believe you,” said Gomez. She had no choice; her tricorder showed the same readings. “It’s still a possibility. Let’s just think a sec. Besides biofilters and phase transition coils, what else does a transporter have that nothing else on board the ship does?”
“A Heisenberg Compensator,” Conlon said, promptly. “So?”
“ So, what’s the compensator for?” She answered her own question. “It’s designed to make up for changes you make on a quantum level whenever you use a transporter. The Heisenberg uncertainty principle says that you can’t know everything about a particle at once, not with any accuracy.”
“Yeah, yeah,” said Conlon. She looked faintly annoyed, too. Like Gomez was a teacher trying to catch her out for not studying. “The principle stipulates that you can measure either position or angular momentum but not both. The more you measure one aspect of a particle state, the less you know about another. The compensator is designed to override the inevitable informational drift. Doesn’t tell you anything; just gives you
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