Crisis of Consciousness by Dave Galanter Page B

it’s far older than that,” Pippenge said as the elevator descended slowly. “I believe this installation had been operational for nearly one hundred and fifty years.”
    “Wonderful,” McCoy groused, then whispered to Spock. “How long is that in Earth years?”
    “The universal translator is programmed with both Earth and Maabas solar information, Doctor. As you heard it, one hundred and fifty years is one hundred and fifty years.”
    “Oh, right.” McCoy gnashed his teeth.
    Slightly bemused, Kirk shook his head at the exchange.
    “I assure you, Doctor, Maabas construction is very reliable.” Pippenge tried to sound encouraging, but the groaning sound coming from the elevator didn’t assure the passengers.
    They arrived at what Kirk assumed was the bottom of the shaft with a dull clunk. After a moment of awkward inaction, a pneumatic hiss accompanied the slow opening of the doors.
    The lights were already on and as they stepped out, Kirk noticed the air was fresher than the level above.
    “Fresh air?” Palamas asked.
    “As soon as we activated the elevator,” Tainler said, “the air handler system was initiated.”
    Efficient , Kirk thought.
    Before them was a central hub of computers—empty chairs with powered-down consoles which looked like stations on a Federation starbase. The captain reminded himself that while Earth explored space, the Maabas concerned themselves with discovering the world they’d adopted.
    The walls were a mixture of manufactured composite materials and stone, using the natural structure of the planet’s crust whenever possible.
    Several hatchways led out of the room. Kirk counted eight, all labeled in the Maabas language which looked to his eye like a mixture of Korean and cuneiform. “To the Kenisian areas, I assume.”
    “To the ruins,” Pippenge said. “Yes.”
    An interesting change of phrasing, Kirk realized, but the ambassador wasn’t wrong. They had to keep in mind that just because Zhatan said this had been her planet, that didn’t mean it was true.
    “I believe,” Spock said, taking a reading off his tricorder, “that I can utilize these systems to scan the entirety of the ruins.”
    “That is their purpose,” Tainler said.
    Spock moved toward the central console. “Will you help me?” he asked Tainler.
    Bowing, the Maabas woman joined him.
    Kirk nodded to Kaalburg. “Secure the elevator.”
    The crewman returned to the open lift, keeping one leg inside it and one out.
    “Oh, I’d not do that,” the ambassador said. “Good way to lose a leg. At any secure installation, the elevator will return to the top automatically. Extremeties notwithstanding.”
    Kaalburg quickly stood erect, just inside the lift, looking for the stop control. “Thanks.”
    “Ride up and stand guard with Ottenburg,” the captain ordered.
    “Aye, sir.”
    Kirk, Pippenge, and McCoy walked the perimeter of the room, looking through the hatchway windows as they passed. Lights were not on, so the corridors were black, and the light coming through the glass did little to displace the gloom.
    “Lieutenant?” The captain motioned for Palamas to join him.
    Leaving Spock and Tainler at the central console, she walked to where Kirk, Pippenge, and McCoy stood. “Sir?”
    “You identified this as the site the Kenisians were most interested in.”
    “Yes, Captain. Their sensors focused mostly on this ruin.”
    “How did it differ from the other two sites they scanned?” Kirk peered out the hatch window closest to him, imagining that years ago the installation was a hub of activity with dozens of Maabas combing through its secrets.
    “This was by far the largest site,” Palamas said. “I can find out by how much, if you like.”
    The captain shook his head.
    As usual, McCoy asked the most pointed question. “So the Kenisians think there’s something here, but if the Maabas have studied these ruins for over a century, why didn’t they find it already?”
    Palamas shrugged. “I