A Call to Darkness - Michael Jan Friedman [16]
Now that research vessel was lost, and Dani along with it. Probably, she would have earned herself a spot on the Gregor Mendel even without Picard’s help. But he couldn’t help but wonder.
Was it so surprising, then, that he had campaigned to have the Enterprise designated as the search-and-rescue ship? Or that he had taken this mission so much to heart?
Picard found that his cabin was closing in around him. He yearned to go back to the bridge, where he at least had some illusion of control over Dani Orbutu’s fate. Frowning, he quelled the impulse.
Get a grip on yourself, Jean-Luc. You’re driving yourself to distraction. Do as you’ve told the others to do: relax. Go down to the gym. Pick up an epee, work the kinks out. Yes?
Yes, he told himself.
But he did not go. He stayed in his quarters and continued to pace.
It was as Riker had hoped. The energy mantle was less effective at close range. Only a touch less effective-but enough to yield the treasure they’d been seeking for so long.
The Ops monitor held the computer-enhanced silhouette of the Mendel within its electronic grasp. Emerald green shadows against a blacker-than-black field.
Up on the main viewer, there was nothing but gold and glitter from pole to pole. But then, Riker had given up looking at the big screen some time ago.
“No question about it?” he asked.
Still making adjustments, Wesley shook his head. “No question, sir. It’s an Icarus-class vessel, model Four. That fits the description of the Gregor Mendel to a tee.”
“And there are no life-sign readings? None at all?”
Wesley shook his head again, sighed. “I can’t pick anything up, Commander. But… that could be the fault of the field.”
True. The energy mantle might have entirely blanked out that aspect of their sensor capability. But what were the odds of that? Not good.
More likely, the sensors were getting through-and there just wasn’t anything alive to pick up.
The first officer straightened, still glaring at the monitor. He had hoped to have better news when he finally contacted the captain. But like it or not, it was time to bring him in on this.
“Bridge to Picard,” be called out. It took a few moments for the captain to respond.
“Yes, Number One?”
Could it be that he had sensed the substance of what Riker had to tell him? And was that reluctant to hear it?
The observation gave the younger man new insight. Geordi was right all along, he told himself. Someone the captain cares about is on the Mendel. Someone he cares about a lot.
Riker swallowed. “We’ve located the research ship, sir.” He didn’t have to say any more at this point, but he didn’t want to keep the captain guessing. “Unfortunately, we’ve failed to pick up any life-signs.”
Again, that bottomless pause. “I’ll be right there,” said Picard, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.
Chapter Four
PICARD CHEWED the inside of his cheek, regarded the dazzling energy display on the viewscreen and mulled it all over silently-while Riker and Troi sat on either side of him and waited.
All the evidence supported the thesis that the Mendel’s crew was dead. The sensors spoke eloquently of it. So did the communications silence, which persisted despite Worf’s repeated efforts to establish contact.
Even Troi had been unable to find a conscious mind on the research vessel with which to link up.
It cast a pall over the captain, forced a part of him to start mourning. But another part had no time for such luxuries. Even if he were to admit that Dani had been killed-along with her crew mates-a bigger question still loomed.
How?
As badly as the Murasaki disturbance had burned the Mendel’s hull, it was apparently intact. Had the life-support systems simply failed without warning? Had a radiation leak gone undetected until it was too late?
If they had discovered the research vessel in the lonely depths of space, he might have put more trust in these possibilities. But the Mendel being where it was, he couldn’t ignore a more obvious conclusion-that the Klah’kimmbri had played some role in this. After all, they had