The Banshees were once again gathered in the their small conference room. The unscheduled meeting had been called by Commander Carter minutes after their return from the mission against the small Jem'Hadar attack force. Certain bizarre events during the mission had raised some difficult questions, and it was time for answers.
The five women were seated at the conference table, Carter at the head and Jo at the library computer terminal at the other end. In the center of the table, two items were on display. The first was Sam's flight helmet. The second was a squat medical quarantine unit, its round, clear sides revealing the small blob of greenish goo held frozen at its center by a stasis field.
Kim was staring at the Jelly distrustfully, while Jo monitored it on her console. Max was watching Sam for any signs of -- whatever, and Lee was wondering where to begin. She was spared the task of speaking first by Jo, who finally looked up from her readouts and commented, "Too bad Devereux isn't here. He's the science officer, after all."
Carter reassured her teammate, "Don't worry, Jo. I have every confidence in you, and it's not likely we'll be seeing Devereux any time soon." She was referring to, of course, the fact that Paul Devereux was currently confined to the brig of the Arizona as a traitor to the Federation and Starfleet.
Jo debated with herself whether or not she should allow herself to be reassured by her commander's confidence, then decided to trust Lee's assessment of her abilities. Thus fortified, she returned her attention to the computer terminal.
"So, what do we know about this thing?" asked Carter.
Jo gathered her thoughts a moment before answering. "Still almost nothing, Boss."
"That's not what I want to hear, Lieutenant."
"I know. The problem is that the jelly simply doesn't register on our instruments -- or at least, it only barely registers." Jo snapped a few toggles and a holographic chart appeared above the center of the conference table. Indicating the floating graph, she continued, "As you can see, there's almost no registration on any of the scans."
"It's like it's not even there," said Max.
"But that doesn't make sense!" exclaimed Kimmie. "There it is, right there!" She pointed to the gelatinous mass squatting in its container, safely contained by the stasis field.
"Oh, don't get upset yet, Kimmie," said Jo. "I haven't even gotten to the best part yet." She looked at Lee and delivered her most astonishing conclusion. "This stuff is alive!"
At that proclamation, everyone burst out talking at once, but Commander Carter raised her hand and silence fell quickly. She looked at Jo and asked simply, "What do you base that on?"
"Several things. First of all, it's either growing or reproducing, or both. Just look at the sample we've got in the unit here. That's about twice as much as we ever brought back from that little planetoid we found it on, and there's more of it in the infirmary.
"And that's another thing. It's able to move about on its own. We've been finding it all over the station - underneath tables and chairs in the replimat, in the command center - we even found some on that big yellow clown outside McDonnell's."
"How does it move?"
"Dunno."
"Why those places?"
"Dunno."
"How does it grow?"
"Dunno."
All throughout the debate, Sam had sat quietly in her seat, apparently lost in her own thoughts. Now she spoke up for the first time. "Why was it in my helmet?" All eyes turned to Jo for the answer.
"Actually, I have an idea about that," said Jo, surprising everyone at the table. She turned back to the computer terminal before her and worked a few controls. Two seconds later, the stasis field sputtered and winked out. Carter looked in alarm at Jo, but Jo intercepted her query saying, "Nothing to worry about." Inside the tank, freed from the paralyzing stasis, the Jelly started to move.
"It's startin' to shake," said Kimmie.
"It's starting to shimmy," said Sam.
"As long as it doesn't start fighting us," said Jo as she stood and walked around the table to where she could reach the quarantine unit and helmet. Picking up the helmet, she motioned to Max and said, "Pop the lid on the tank, will you Max?"
Taken by surprise by the unexpected request, Max looked at Lee for confirmation. Lee nodded slowly. Max shrugged as if realizing that everyone in the room had gone insane, but that she might as well play along. She reached over and removed the transparent lid of the containment unit. Immediately, the room was filled with the unmistakable odor of the Smelly Jelly. Jo carefully placed the helmet inside the tank beside the Jelly, then replaced the lid, making sure it was secure. The room's environmental system quickly recycled the bad air, and the women breathed easier again.
She went back to the computer terminal and sat back down. "Now watch what happens when I remotely activate the neuro-helmet's circuitry." She flipped a switch and a small green light on the side of the helmet began glowing softly, indicating it was active. Immediately, as if it had been poked by a live ODN conduit, the Jelly began vibrating in place. A few seconds later, it lost its cohesive form and spilled across the bottom of the containment tank.
All eyes in the room were riveted on the quarantine unit. The Jelly exuded a few bubbled, then, ever-so-slowly, began extending tiny tendrils toward the helmet. When it made contact, the green goo that comprised its mass could be seen oozing into the tiniest creases on the helmet's surface, and underneath the padding and straps. Before long, all of it had been soaked up by Sam's neuro-helmet - no visible trace was left whatsoever.
All eyes turned expectantly to Jo, awaiting the explanation for the incredible phenomenon they'd just witnessed.
"As far as I can tell," said Jo, "the Smelly Jelly feeds on neural energy. The neuro-helmet simulates human brain activity closely enough to give it what it needs."
Kimmie seemed thunderstruck. "A lifeform that feeds on brainwaves! Wow!"
"There's plenty of precedents in nature. Starfleet had catalogued lifeforms that feed on the emotions of fear, love, hate, creativity, to mention just a few. This one differs from the others simply in that it seems less specialized."
It was Max who asked the next logical question. "All right. So now we know why this stuff likes neuro-helmets, but get real, Jo! It reeks! Sam would've noticed."
Sam nodded.
But Jo was ready for Max's objection. "You're absolutely right. Except for one little detail." She stood again and walked back to the tank. Reaching across the table, she popped the lid open. Instinctively, the other four ladies held their breath.
Again, it was Max who noticed the odd piece in the puzzle. Jo was standing directly beside the Jelly and was breathing normally. Max released her breath, then took a hesitant, experimental sniff. The air was normal! Her eyebrows went up in astonishment. "Fascinating."
"I'll say! I've done several experiments. It seems that whenever the Jelly is sufficiently supplied with neural energy, the odor is completely absent."
"So I had that stuff on my head the whole time and never knew it," said Sam in growing realization. She suddenly looked like she was going to be sick.
"Um.... Yeah...," was all Jo could think of to say to her friend. "And the Jelly's interference with the helmet's neuro-circuitry propagated on through to your cyber-implants. That's why you got so disoriented."
Jo's demonstration was at an end and the Banshees mostly just sat in silent thought, still in shock at what the harmless green slime they'd found on a small insignificant planetoid had turned out to be. Lee took the opportunity to sum up their course of action.
"All right. This stuff appears to be mostly harmless - the only reason Sam had a bad reaction is because of her unique physiology. Still, I think we should alert Security and Medical about everything we've uncovered here, and then leave it in their hands what to do about it."
Jo took up the summary: "The hard part will be finding the stuff, since it doesn't register on tricorders."
Lee stood, indicating the meeting was over. "All right. We've done what we can. Dismissed. Sam, I think you might want to get some rest. You've had a rough day."
Sam nodded in full agreement. The Banshees filed out of the conference room, each off to her own diversion.
Somewhere deep in the maze of Jefferies tubes, in one of the 'tween-decks areas of the station, a small glop of greenish goo sat squonking. A few seconds later, an second blop oozed from the ceiling of the tunnel to splorch on the deck beside the first. A few seconds later, a third and a fourth. Minutes later, there were a dozen individual dollops of Jelly in the dimly lit tunnel, all of them schlurping, florping and kvetching.
They moved toward each other. When the closest two touched, they merged and became one, larger Jelly. Then another joined, then another, and another, until finally all the Jellies had merged into the one central mass. It was as big as a basketball now, and squatted roundly in the center of the Jeffries tube.
Then, slowly at first, it began to shake, then to shimmy. When it was done, the even, round pile of gunk had morphed into a recognizable shape. It turned around in the center of the Jeffries tube, and a recessed light caught it dead center, revealing its face. For a face it was. A human face.
The face of Sam Beckett.