A moment pa.s.sed. Two. If there was going to be a problem in the auxiliary tank, it probably would've manifested itself by now.

"Well?" asked the older man.

"So far so good," Geordi reported. "Looks like you were right."

Scott grunted. "Naturally, lad." Crawling out from under his own console, he cracked his knuckles and, with a bit of a flourish, pressed a few b.u.t.tons.

"What are you doing?" asked Geordi. "We're not at the moment of truth yet... are we?"

It seemed to him there were still a couple of tests to be made first. But then, Scott's methods were a little different from his.

"Well," said the older man, "let me put it this way. If we've done our jobs properly, the engines should be coming back on-line about... now."

For a moment, they watched the display and nothing happened. Then, slowly, console by dead console, the remainder of the Ops center came to life. The place was rife with blinking lights.

Geordi laughed, as delighted as a child who'd just been taught a new trick. He checked his levels. "And the auxiliary tank is still holding."

Scott flashed a grin at him and then indicated the Jenolen's small command chair. "The bridge is yours, Commander."

Geordi held up a hand to demur. "Uh, uh. You're the senior officer here."

"I may be a captain by rank," Scott conceded, "but I've never wanted to be anything but an engineer. Take the conn, Geordi."

For a moment, Geordi found himself admiring the h.e.l.l out of Captain Montgomery Scott. "All right," he said finally. "I'll take the conn."

Moving to the command chair, he sat down in it, while Scott made his way to the engineering panel. "Okay then," he said, examining the readouts in his armrest monitor. "Let's get going. We've got a starship to track down."

"Aye, sir," said the older man.

"Full impulse," said Geordi.

"Full impulse," Scott echoed.

And they were off.

"Energize."

Funny thing about transporters, thought Riker. The first time he'd used one, he'd expected there to be some sort of transitional feeling... some sensation of being gradually drawn out of one place and phased into another.

But it wasn't like that at all. One moment you were in the transporter room, the next you were standing on a planet or in a s.p.a.ce station or on another ship. There was nothing in between, no period of adjustment. You were just, all of a sudden, there.

It was that way this time, too. Except this time, there was unlike anywhere else Riker had ever seen. Without meaning to, he said as much.

"If it's any consolation," Troi commented, "it's not like anything I've ever seen either."

Sousa looked around-first at the perfectly round plate on which they stood, which had been selected as the optimum landing sight. Then at the immense towers that jutted up into the green-blue sky all around them, stretching in an unbroken field to the strangely curving horizon. Ramps of various widths ran from tower to tower, all at the same level as their plate, and tremendous chasms yawned in the intervals between the towers.

Everything was a dark shade of purple. Everything was artificial. There were no breezes, no clouds, no plants, no vegetation... not even any dirt. And, in this spot at least, no evidence of sentient life.

But then, they hadn't exactly expected a welcome wagon. Their beam-down site was part of the area they'd already bio-scanned without success. It was the area their sensors couldn't probe-perhaps two hundred meters away-which still held the possibility of living sphere builders.

"Come on," said Riker, taking one last look at the shuttlecraft. Gesturing with his tricorder, he indicated the direction in which they had to travel. "Let's go. And be careful. Watch your footing."

Fortunately, a number of the ramps gave them the access they wanted. That was the good news. The bad news was that the ramps were narrow and zigzagging in that quarter-as if someone had wanted to make it difficult for anyone to go that way.

But that was ridiculous, Sousa told himself-wasn't it? Not everybody would be starting out from this plate, right? And if the builders had wanted to prevent anyone from going there, why have ramps at all?

Slowly, carefully, they set out across one of the chasms-one of the narrower ones. Sousa had no particular fear of heights, but still he tried not to look down. He didn't have to do any peering over the side to know it was a long way to the bottom.

As he walked, the ensign marveled at the ghostly quiet. Even their footfalls seemed to be absorbed into it-and swallowed, like pebbles in a great, dark pool.

Finally, they reached one of the towers. It had a number of arched entrances, one for each ramp that led to it-but no doors. Sousa tried to peer inside, but it was murky in there, shaded as it was from the sun-and the contrast was just too great for him to see anything.

Riker was the first one to enter the place, with Troi close behind and the rest of them bringing up the rear. Even after they'd gotten out of the sunlight, it took a while for the ensign's eyes to adjust.

The first thing he noticed was a bank of what looked like monstrous machines lining one of the building's interior walls. Then, as he scanned the other walls, he saw the same thing. Machines that climbed high into the tower, so high they were lost in darkness and distance.

There were no floors above this level, Sousa observed. No stairwells and no elevators. Just empty s.p.a.ce-and of course, the machines that shaped it with their presence.

"How do you suppose they got up there?" asked Krause, his voice echoing.

"The machines?" asked Sousa, his echoes answering the first set.

Krause shot him a look. "I mean the builders. There isn't even anything to stand on."

"Beats h.e.l.l out of me," said Bartel. "Unless ... they flew."

Sousa looked at her. "Flew?" he repeated. "You mean, like with wings?"

Bartel shrugged. "With or without. Maybe they just willed themselves up there-what's the difference? The point is, they got there on their own."

And a good point it was, he conceded. But there was no one here now, winged or otherwise. Since the machines were dead as well, there wasn't much to linger over. Once they'd recorded what they could with their tricorders, they moved on.

Once again, they had to make their way over the zigzagging ramps-longer ones this time. Because there wasn't enough room for more than two to walk abreast, the away team automatically strung itself out into three pairs. And they walked at intervals, to minimize the possibility of an unforeseen problem afflicting all of them at once. As luck would have it, Kane wound up walking beside Sousa.

Turning to him, Sousa said in a low voice "A little spooky, isn't it?"

The other man glanced at him, but didn't respond. Instead, he made a show of using his tricorder to scan the stuff they were walking on.

"Come on," Sousa whispered. "Let's forget what we said, all right?"

But Kane wasn't buying it. His only response was a withering glance.

Sousa sighed. Be that way, he thought. No skin off my nose.

But when he looked around at the silent towers and the abysses that yawned below them, he wished he at least had someone to talk to. It would have made the going just a little more tolerable.

Chapter Twelve.

JEAN-LUC PICARD knew his senior officers like the back of his hand. When there was something worrying one of them, he was aware of it, even if he couldn't always divine the details. And Commander Data, despite his lack of human emotions, was no exception.

So when the captain saw Data focusing more intently than usual at his Ops controls, his artificial brow creased ever so slightly with concentration, he went to the android's side immediately. For Data, that was the equivalent of a panicked scream.

"What is it?" asked Picard.

Data looked up at him. "A problem, sir."

Working his controls; he brought up a schematic diagram of the sphere and its captive sun. Several sections of the star were highlighted and magnified.

"Our sensors show that this star is extremely unstable," the android explained. "It is p.r.o.ne to severe bursts of radiation and matter expulsions."

The captain scowled. "That would explain why the sphere is abandoned." He looked to the main viewscreen, with the image of the captive sun emblazoned on it. "Is the away team in danger?" he asked his second officer.

"I do not believe so," said Data. "While solar radiation has made the sphere uninhabitable over the long term, it should not present a hazard in the short term." He paused. "At least not to the away team."

Picard regarded his second officer. "To us, then?"

Data nodded. "The away team is much farther away from the sun than we are. At our current distance, with our shields virtually inoperative, a solar flare would pose a significant danger to the crew."

The captain nodded, taking the android's advice to heart. "All the more reason to get our shields up to full power again-as soon as possible."

Data nodded, expressionless-except for that slight crease in his forehead. "That would be wise, sir."

Riker tapped his communicator one last time and waited. Finally, he shook his head. "Nothing," he said. "Nada. Zip."

Troi nodded. "Whatever is thwarting our sensor probe is also preventing communications with the ship. Hardly unexpected," she said.

"Hardly," he agreed. "Still, it would have been nice to find out we were wrong-at least in this regard. I don't like the idea of being cut off from the bridge." He loo ked around. "Especially in a jungle gym like this one."

The counselor smiled. "We will be fine."

"Is that just encouragement?" he asked. "Or are you getting into the predictions game now?"

She shrugged. "We Betazoids have all kinds of talents."

Riker grunted, "You're telling me."

Troi gave Riker a withering stare, but soon couldn't resist a grin.

It felt good to crack a joke or two, Riker thought. So far, their mission had been an uneventful and frustrating one. As many ramps as they negotiated, the result was always the same. Every tower was as empty as the first one they'd explored lots of big machines that weren't giving up any secrets.

No clues as to what had happened to the builders. Nothing to really indicate what their race might have been like. And no evidence that any of them were still alive.

A few minutes ago, they had reached a large, round plate just inside the sensor-shielded section-not unlike the structure onto which they'd beamed down. Riker had called for a break while he tried to contact the ship.

But now, break time was over. "All right," he told the rest of his team. He pointed to the cl.u.s.ter of towers up ahead. "Let's stay together. And keep our eyes open."

Picard was still standing beside Data, watching the image of the captive star on the main viewscreen. He shook his head.

"Automatic piloting beams, eh?"

The android nodded. "Yes. I believe they were designed to guide ships inside the sphere."

"And our communications attempt triggered them?"

"Precisely, sir. Then the resonant frequency of the beams interfered with the integrity of our main power system, temporarily taking the engines off-line."

The captain took a deep breath, then let it out. "All right. That makes sense. Would you care to hazard a guess as to how we can use this information to get ourselves out again?"

Data didn't look hopeful. "Unfortunately, that is a different matter en-"

Suddenly, Worf broke into their conversation. His voice carried a sense of terrible urgency-and Klingons didn't show that kind of concern easily.

"Sir, sensors show a large magnetic disturbance on the star's surface."

"A magnetic disturbance?" Picard echoed.

Data worked the controls on his console at a speed only he could manage. "It is a solar flare, Captain. Magnitude twelve. Cla.s.s B."

Picard turned back to Worf. "Shields, Lieutenant?"

The Klingon scowled. "Shields up ... but only at twenty-three percent."

"Magnify," the captain commanded. He wanted to see what they were up against.

Abruptly, the screen showed a huge solar flare reaching out from the star. It was heading directly toward the Enterprise.

Picard felt the muscles in his face drawing tight. At this range, twenty-three percent might not be equal to the task.

"The star has entered a period of increased activity."

"Just like that?" asked the captain.

Data nodded. "Apparently, sir. And our sensor readings indicate that the solar flare trend will continue to grow. In three hours, our shields will not be sufficient to protect us."

"d.a.m.n," whispered someone at one of the aft stations.

My sentiments exactly, thought Picard.

They were deep into the shielded area now. And still nothing to write home about, Riker thought. The towers they'd investigated here were much like those they'd seen earlier. h.e.l.l, as far as he could tell, they were exactly like those they'd seen earlier.

He turned to Troi, who was still walking beside him. As before, she was focusing her empathic powers on their next destination. The first officer watched her face for some sign of discovery. There wasn't any.