Lieutenant Commander Cadfael Peters: The Literary Reference
Zeph
Cadfael had been used to getting strange requests. He was an engineer, and he knew that there were all kinds of weird things that could theoretically happen with faulty equipment. This, however, wasn’t so much that the equipment was faulty, but the anomaly was produced by a third party that wasn’t one of the occupants of the quarters in question.
This time, it was doing something of its own accord. Replicating its own files.
Katsim: Perhaps, Peters, it might be best to shut this replicator down and replace it.
Cadfael didn’t immediately look away from the machine.
Peters: If we replace it, we lose whatever this is trying to do.
Richards nodded. The engineer's voice remained calm, but thoughtful.
Peters: And right now… it’s the only replicator on the ship inventing its own patterns.
Another quiet glance toward the tray.
Peters: I’d really like to know why.
Richards: It is odd. They should all be connected into one system.
Cadfael remained beside the console, his eyes drifting once more to the replicator tray as though half-expecting the machine to quietly produce something else on its own.
Peters: Until it does… I’d rather not encourage it to stop.
Richards: Agreed… I think.
The replicator sat silent for the moment, its indicator lights steady and indifferent, as though nothing unusual had happened at all. Cadfael watched it a second longer before letting out a quiet breath through his nose.
Peters: Of course… that’s when these things usually decide to get interesting.
Richards: Well then. I suppose we should try to replicate something again?
Katsim: We could.
Peters: I have no better ideas.
Richards: Maybe if we try to replicate something that would consume more power?
Katsim: Such as?
The Bardassian gave a frown in the direction of the replicator. Cadfael also raised an eyebrow as Anton made his request.
Richards: You there, replicator! One phaser please.
The computer chirped in its negative dissent, then gave an affirmation beep after Richards input his access code. However, as the particles formed together to form yet another piece of paper, Cadfael couldn’t help but quote a line from Alice in Wonderland.
Peters: Curiouser, and curiouser.
The paper looked identical in size, shape, texture, and font but instead of a name, it simply had ‘open me’ on the front.
Katsim: That’s…different.
Peters: This is correspondence of a form I’m not enjoying anymore.
Richards: Response
Peri moved forward and removed the envelope from the replicator tray before extending it to Richards.
Katsim: Since you requested the item.
Richards: Response
Cadfael watched quietly as Anton opened the letter, Peri stood behind him and glanced over his shoulder. The engineer took a few steps closer as well to see what had been produced. He procured yet another piece of paper, and opened it slowly.
On the page was a simple line drawing of a phaser.
Katsim / Richards: Response
Peters: Well, I’m officially baffled now.
Cadfael didn’t look up right away. His attention lingered on the page in Richards’ hands, watching the clean lines of the phaser diagram as though prolonged observation might reveal something hidden in its simplicity. It didn’t change. It didn’t need to. Whatever process had produced it had done so with intent.
He exhaled softly through his nose, more thoughtful than frustrated.
Peters: That’s not random.
Katsim / Richards: Response
His gaze shifted back to the replicator, the idle interface suddenly less reassuring in its stillness.
Peters: It produced a phaser… just not in a form we can use. Or chose not to.
Katsim / Richards: Response
Cadfael stepped closer to the console again without touching it, studying the steady indicator lights as if expecting them to betray something more than normal function. The earlier envelopes remained where they had been left—names, repetition, instruction. The progression sat uneasily in his mind, not chaotic, but not following any system he recognized.
Peters: We asked for an object. It gave us a representation.
Katsim / Richards: Response
His eyes flicked briefly toward the accumulated letters before returning to the tray.
Peters: It’s not repeating. It’s adjusting.
Katsim / Richards: Response
The replicator remained still just long enough to almost pass for normal operation—then a soft chirp broke the quiet. Cadfael’s focus snapped back as the system activated on its own, no input given. The matter stream formed more slowly this time, not imprecise, but measured in a way that suggested something other than routine execution.
Another envelope took shape. No one had moved. Cadfael didn’t either.
Peters: …All right.
Katsim / Richards: Response
The envelope settled into the tray with a faint, deliberate finality. No name marked the front this time. No list. Just two words, written in the same careful script:
try again
Cadfael regarded it without reaching for it, something in his posture shifting—not alarm, not hesitation, but a quiet recalibration as the pattern took on a different shape.
Peters: It’s not following a pattern anymore. It’s reacting to one.
Katsim / Richards: Response
He finally moved, though only enough to rest his fingers lightly against the edge of the console, grounding himself in something predictable while his attention remained fixed on the envelope.
Peters: We may want to be more deliberate about what we ask it to do next.
Katsim / Richards: Response
His gaze didn’t leave the tray.
Peters: Because I don’t think it’s guessing. I think it’s waiting.
Katsim / Richards: Response