“Dancing?”
“Yep,” Traise replied to the engineering ensign almost smugly before reaching down for another cord.
“Yeah, but… dancing?” echoed the second lower decks crewman, the Bajoran, as he took the auxiliary cord from his former commanding officer and plugging it in.
“Well, think about it,” Traise continued and took the time to lean against the tiny black monolith that was a very real amplifier contrasted against the hashing of the rest the idle Holodeck. “We are attempting to get the attention of non-coporeal beings that, as far as we can tell, only perceive EM radiation.”
They nodded while working, following the logic as best they could after the shipwide briefing the day before, the Vulcan wasn’t having any easier of a time keeping with it as Traise went deeper into his explanation.
“Well, this Amp here is basically a giant electromagnet. Part of the reason why we needed to replicate a real one. Because, it just so happens, when you run electric current through it in rhythmic pulses it also happens to vibrate at those same rhythmic speeds and produce sound waves.”
“So, what you’re saying is when we play music through the amplifier, the aliens will perceive beats in the produced EM-field timed the same as we hear the sound.”
“Exactly,” he snapped his fingers, “so while it may be impossible for us to hear or interact through the same mediums, we are still both perceiving the Amp and at the same time.”
“And, since these… beings…” cautioned the other one, “are presumably able to see our own bio-electric fields they will ‘see’ you both responding to the changes in the field coming off the Amplifier in a very deliberate manner, but without a direct effect from the electric charge they are seeing within it.”
“And what do you call rhythmic movement timed to sound, other than dancing?” Traise marveled with tempered awe at the implications of the ensigns plugging in the design equivalent of a 400 year old device into the power systems of an interstellar star cruiser. “We figure,” he lied about the number of people involved with the process, “if they are observing us, as our working theory states, this should get their attention.”
“What happens then?” asked the Bajoran, the Vulcan just arched a brow as a second to the question.
“Well, we move onto the first steps of non-verbal communication. If they are able to show themselves to us we need to prove or determine that the other group is capable and able to understand a dialogue. Thing is, we just have to do that purely visually.” Traise’s grin was near wicked, and an unexpected response to the two engineers.
They looked to one another with concern and briefly eyed Commander Sierra and a certain Photonics Specialist she was working with near the holodeck arch. Demonstrating the efficacy of non-verbal communication themselves, they both determined that their former Captain’s enthusiasm was far less dangerous than dealing with a Barclay. They returned to their work, hoping that they finished before she did.
But she was already done.
“Okay, Ma’am,” There was a pause, a bitten thumb, and the last few chimes of a final thought on the console before, “That should do it.”
Commander Sierra moved closer to the wall console to overview the commands as Specialist Amanda Barclay spoke.
“So, I have set up the subroutine I developed for the ship simulation programs I made back at Starfleet Headquarters when dealing with the … err… you know that mess with the ph-ph-photonic bridge of-f-fi-”
Sierra rescued her from the stutter, “So we will be able to enable three dimensional movement while the simulation is active?”
“Aye, Commander. Simply make the order to the computer and it will do the rest.”
“Good work, Specialist.”
There was silence. Which quite honestly started unsettling the Commander instinctively after a few seconds. After noticing her own personal unease, Sierra turned to look at Specialist Barclay who was just politely staring, and waiting, in silence. Given that she was what the Bolians aboard the ship politely called a ‘chatterbox’ this was genuinely disconcerting.
“Is… everything alright, Specialist?”
“Ma’am, do you think this will work?” there was a concern in her voice as she looked at the speakers, their wires running to an open panel and spliced into the Holodeck wall. Traise was oblivious, the two ensigns caught the stare and redoubled their efforts to finish quickly.
“I have full confidence in Traise’s theory involving these EM-Beings and know first hand his abilities as a diplomat. He is the expert here and I value that perspective.”
“I-I-I uh… that’s n-not what I…?”
Sierra’s stare was one of confusion as Barclay took one last look at Traise.
“You know, it’s nothing, Ma’am,” she smiled, and gave a curt, but polite nod, “I’m sure it will be fine.”
“Thanks?” was all Sierra could say as Amanda started for the door.
The specialist looked back, smiled, nodded again, and nearly tripped over her own feet slightly having already reached stack overflow in the co-current movements her physical coordination allowed.
The noise caught the attention of the two ensigns from the engineering team and, realizing the peril of their current situation, they scrambled through their final checks; fearful to be caught in any holodeck she had either programmed or recently left. As this room represented both of those things, they blew past her out the threshold into the relative safety of the hall beyond as soon as they were done.
As the door began to close Amanda thought of one last thing and got out half of a, “Ma’am, Good Lu-” before it sealed snugly and the program initialized; leaving Traise and Sierra in a simple featureless room of black, with two speakers plugged into the nothingness of one of the walls.
When they were alone, and enough time had passed for their support team to get a certain distance away, Ithiliel finally said it herself, “Okay but, dancing?”
John couldn’t help but chuckle, “I know, I know. But, It makes the most sense. It’s something both they and us will be able to perceive. It will get their attention.”
“And then from there?”
“You know the drill, we’ll use mimicry to determine if they can perceive us and do our best to transition from there to the universal language.”
“Math.”
“Math,” Traise confirmed. Sierra, after all, had done this before as his diplomatic attache’, albeit, not with the methods or circumstances current.
“So, the music we need to use, does there need to be any particular type?”
“Honestly,” answered John, “anything we can dance to, really. And,” he added, “something easy enough for me to match your movements. Or… at least look somewhat close to matching,” he conceded. “Swing may be good but I’m no good at Samba. And, uh, Punk may obviously be out.”
“It just occurred to me,” she said as she started scrolling through the options in the system. “If we’re back at the Azure Nebula, and that is were they are from, they didn’t have to stay. They could have left at any time if they haven’t already.”
“They haven’t.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“They haven’t made first contact yet.” It was a somewhat familiar line to Sierra and she couldn’t deny that his idealism was infectious. “But, about the music, if I am being serious something with a solid repetitive timing to it would probably work the best.”
Sierra stopped, thought, then flicked to a different, personal, playlist and after a second’s hesitation… pressed play.
A steady beat began thrumming out from the speakers.
Traise was taken aback by the choice, after all, he knew it. “Is this… pre-war Trance music?”
“Yes, it seemed like a good choice.”
“I uh… I mean, it is,” he was smiling, “I just, didn’t know you listened to any of it.”
Sierra smiled her feline smile, “You know, you’ve never really asked me what music I listen to. I may have learned to love punk and personal rebellion at the academy, but when I was a young girl I loved this stuff.”
John gave the little laugh of a single breath, then moved to follow her as she stepped away from the wall into the room and held out a hand.
“Shall we?” she offered.
And he took it.
So they danced.
They began slow. Simple.
Their movements easy but mirrored to the beat and one another.
And as the song progressed and opened up so to did they.
Perhaps, as they swayed, there was the smallest of voices whispering behind their ears about the audacity of it all; what they were doing. But in truth, what would that even be?
In the end they were just two people in a room dancing with one another.
Was it really that odd? They were taking part in perhaps the oldest ritual of human culture. And, while they were both very removed from those early drumbeats around a star encircled fire, some core of each of them was very much human and it seized them.
The truth was, nonetheless, that in a lot of ways that image of the past was being mirrored in the now; and it wasn’t the stars that were watching them.
John realized, as they bobbed again and he watched Sierra’s silver hair twirl away from her face that he was at his heart, happy it was her there with him. Sierra stole a glance herself and grinned in that way she couldn’t stop. After all, this had all been a result of Dr. Sudun’s choice, not theirs so they were each blameless. But honestly, neither would have had preferred it any different.
They took one another’s arms again and swung them, hand in hand, as the music swelled.
And, at the crescendo of the first verse, it happened!
Around them the black room pulsed with light. Multi-colored silhouettes, perhaps twenty of them, much more than a simple pair, apparated. They had indeed caught their attention!
Pulsing in time with the music, encircling them in the air, were the half humanoid Aura ‘Ghosts’ of a rainbow’s worth of colors.
There was a burst of excitement from both Sierra and Traise, they had been right!
And the specters reacted to it! As if sympathetic, they radiated a sudden and positive yellow glow as they throbbed through the rest of visible spectrum.
Sierra’s smile caught him and they looked to each other with a combination of wonder and determination before buttoning up their thoughts and nodding.
The two refocused on one another and the song, and took up a simple but dynamic motion between them. Holding the others hands they swung their arms opposite arms in counter directions, swinging each set up and down in rhythm to the beat. They did this for a time and watched as best they could around them while they swang.
Then, as if understanding, the Ghosts grew arms and began to hold hands. Soon each was connected by a glowing tendril that, much like their own hands, bulged at the connecting point. And, after a slight false start, the ephemeral arms began to swing like theirs in matched time.
They were mimicking them: it was working!
The two humanoids smiled widely to one another and then progressed on to more movements. They began to take steps to the side, around them the glowing circle shifted. They began to turn, the circle spun round them. They changed direction, so to did the congregation of throbbing colors.
While this was going on, and these feelings and colors swirled about them, John was charmed by the look on Sierra’s face. She was enthralled, almost childlike in a way he had rarely seen. Comfortable, and dare he say, rewarded? He took the moment of his thoughts to think about how he had ended up here at all, how he could have easily have missed… all of this. How they all could have. But he didn’t stay on Earth, Sierra came for him.
And for once in his life, aside from a Betazoid, he had been honest in a way he never was before. He let her in, he let her know of that pitched place and the solitude of his own design. It was in that moment, dancing with spectral aliens in a field of black and phantom color that he knew he would never be alone like that again. Even if he lost his way, this ship, this ‘voyaging lighthouse’ sailing through the stars was his beacon. Not because it had always been his dream, or that it specifically was the Albion, but that’s where they were; where she was. His family, his home, wasn’t in a hilly field in the lower Michigan peninsula. This ship was where he built his home.
Ithiliel looked at him as they danced in an ever better choreographed number with a glowing ensemble and he wondered what it was going through her mind. He realized they were both probably waiting for the next step.
The Universal Language of Math.*
*Traise had tried to explain to the ensigns earlier that, out of all the communications forms in the universe, there was only one inalienable truth. Arithmetic. No matter if communication was verbal, somatic, auromic, or physical, there was only one language that broke all bounds and was foundational to the universe itself.
No mater what you used to explain it, one plus one was two. Two plus five was seven, seven times fourteen was ninety-eight and so on.
How you describe those things could change, and how you counted was (usually) based on the number of digits attached to your appendages, but nothing could break down the truth of math, the truths that all maths shared. For non-verbal first contacts, the first step of assessment and communication was to determine a mutual language of Maths.
Breaking one set of handholds Sierra and Traise stood abreast and used their free limbs to contrast a new pattern against the beat.
They had to keep it simple, in halves, quarters, and thirds to keep the pace of the trance music, but by using their free arms and their held joined hands in the center, they could move their arms in such a way between them to show an equation. 1+1=2, 2+1=3, 6=4+2, and so on, waiting for the Aliens to mimic them.
Each time the spirits pantomiming them did.
Then, Traise and Sierra only threw their hands up in half of the problem and paused at the solution…
To their joy the EM-Beings finished their equation!
They tossed their arms up in more simple postulates, all replies were correct!
And then, to the terrestrial’s shock, the aliens swapped roles! The Auras presented their own equation 2+1!
Their still joined hands, representing the answer, threw 3 together.
There were a few more equations shared, and more solutions tossed out from both sides, but Traise and Sierra knew what had to come now and that it should be really fun.
Sierra, above the music, called out, “Computer, enable three-dimensional movement!”
The walls of the black room chimed their response and the two slowly took off into the air with a spin, re-gripping one another’s arms.
As they rose, and held each other, their arms became a circle: which was the idea.
The only certainty they knew at this point was that the beings could see their EM Field, doubly so the more excited they got together. So to draw a shape to push the ideas of geometry, they had to show that shape with their own bodies. It was much easier to do with full freedom of movement. Luckily, Specialist Barclay’s modifications to the Holodeck program meant they could trick the hard light into lifting them; avoiding needing to shut off the saucer’s gravity for this meet and greet.
Hand in hand they pushed with their feet to guarantee a spin, their linked arms forming a rough circle with the Auras around them watching. Then, the Ghosts spun themselves; picking colors: blue, yellow, green, purple. Circles, rings of all colors, ranged around them.
Then the two let go and grabbed for the other’s feet, laughing! By bending at the waist they approximated a square, turnings slowly in space. So too, morphed the shapes around them into boxes.
From the square the two officers moved back to a ring, and then after a few turns so they had time to be matched in size, Sierra let go and they both straightened out. They could have been described as moving like figure-skaters, but that wouldn’t work with all the infectious giggling and haphazard confusion as they tried to work together on the fly to do this.
Momentarily, in the bewilderment of the instant, more of the colors swapped to pinks and greens…
But it worked! There they were, the representatives of the Federation representing the circumference of a circle; and with a push off from John and the piloting of Ithiliel they bisected the diameter of a one of the Ghost circles. They were Pi, the Transcendental Number.
Pi is the infinite and irrational ratio, impossible to quantify other than itself, no other way to represent it but as a truth. And as the two hung in the air trying to represent it with the excitement and energy literally coursing through their bodies they watched with baited breath as more of the Aura’s dropped their humanoid form. Not only did they mimic the ratio they themselves just had, but some of the circles then unpeeled themselves to show it in different ways.
Before long the circles began to spin sideways until they merged into wired spheres. And, after that, the Spirit’s colored energies, untethered to a physical form like Ithiliel’s or John’s, drew themselves into more lines evolving out from the spheres.
The shapes grew, impossibly, in unfeasible directions! Filling up the room with awe-inspiring feelings and colors that were more akin to thoughts than shape or pigment.
Suddenly, the aliens flashed in unison, and all slowed.
Sierra and Traise drifted to the floor as the shapes resumed humanoid forms, then grew faces. Much like everything else the Ghosts had done this evening, they mimicked the visage of the two of them… Half of them with her body type, the rest with his… they stared in awe… and just like Ithiliel and John, were holding hands.
Then, with a rush, they blew through them in a flash of blue! The first pair followed by the second and third; the whole room of spirits was rushing for the wall that the entrance was on. The Ghosts, Auras… Energy Beings, were returning home! Passing around Sierra and John like a luminescent technicolor wave with the goal of the space beyond.
And the two couldn’t help it but run in pursuit, following the wisps through the door! Bolting they turned and ran like creatures in a forest, chasing spirits; putting their arms out to grab the walls to help them round corners. Two more turns and they were greeted by the Sapphire glow of the Nebula through the external windows, the Auras still racing towards luminescence. And, true to the ephemeral spirits that they were, the Aliens phased through the windows and out into the space beyond; Traise and Sierra coming to stop at the edge, each with one hand on the glass, watching them go.
For the briefest of moments there was only awe and silence as the Auras continued to dance outward, before the excitement of everything struck all at once and there was a sudden flurry of words between them!
“Can you believe that?!”
“It was amazing, they were dancing with us, they really were!”
“They were waiting for us, I knew it! I mean, did you see that when they appeared?!”
“See it? I felt it! They responded to our emotions, John, I could… I could feel them!”
“It must have been, some type of sympathetic effect from their own energy fields interacting with our nervous systems!”
“And the Math, it worked! It completely worked! They were obviously intelligent.”
“And, and, not only that they had an understanding of Geometry! Advanced Geometry!”
“I know! They were Electromagnetic Beings, there was no guarantee they even had a concept of geometry!”
“But they did, and when they were transforming up! Oh man, I recognized those shapes! They were in higher order dimensions! Those were hyperspheres and circles in R5, 6, 7!”
“You were right, John, they were explorers! Or travelers!”
“Do you think the computer got the video recording?”
“Listen to yourself! Do you even realize what it was that you just did? That was open communication with a group of intelligent electromagnetic-”
“Haha! I still I don’t even know!”
“Well, whatever they were, you may have just proven to their entire society that another entire form of intelligent life exists in the universe!”
John turned to look outside and resumed watching the dancing spirits as they disappeared into the distance, “God, Ithiliel, I never could have expected anything so spectacular, could you?”
And she found that there were no more words within her, as she watched him get lost in the moment’s beauty. In his eyes, there was nothing but the reflection of stars, and blue light, twinkling among them.
He turned back to her, the excitement still spilling from his voice, “Could you even imagine-”
And that’s when she kissed him, her hands on either side of his face.
It was a fast kiss, and when she pulled back John watched as the serene look on her face melted into one of panic when she fully processed what it was that she had just done, “Oh, oh, God. John… I…” Traise, still stunned, watched as the abject terror over her actions spread across her face, “I don’t know what…” She looked horrified, sick. “I’m so… I didn’t mean-” her eyes began to shimmer with pooling tears, “I-I have to go-”
She turned to flee but with a grip of iron John snapped out and caught her arm. She looked down at his hand, a white knuckle vice on the black of her uniform sleeve. Against her best judgement she braved a look at his face, which was as solid as marble.
He reached out and grabbed her other arm, pulled her close, and kissed her back.
And it was as if they never left the holodeck and were still rising in the air… spinning in one another’s arms.
Outside the nebula’s clouds sparkled a loving sympathetic cerulean.