A Time for War, a Time for Peace - Keith R. A. DeCandido [61]
“It’s been eleven years, Beverly. I would think you’d be over your resentment.”
Crusher felt her jaw drop. “Resentment? I don’t resent you, Toby. That would require my thinking highly of your abilities. You’re right, it has been eleven years, and you haven’t changed a bit—you still take shortcuts in an attempt to get instant gratification that saves you the trouble of doing the real work required in research, and never mind who might die.”
Russell regarded Crusher coldly. “That’s a lovely speech, Beverly, but you’re ignoring the fact that my procedure worked.”
“On Worf, yes, it did work—barely, and only because of the unique nature of Klingon physiology.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that it was a tremendous medical breakthrough.”
Crusher nodded emphatically. “Yes, Toby, it was. Tell me, what kind of progress have you made since then? I haven’t seen a single thing about genitronics since the initial wave of articles after Worf’s operation. Why is that, I wonder?”
In a tight voice, Russell said, “We’re not here to discuss my medical practice, Beverly—we’re here to discuss yours.”
Picking up her padd, Crusher looked down at its display. “As I said, I don’t have time to talk with you right now.”
Gazing at the top of the desk, Russell looked at the padd. “Reading the latest from Delta Sigma IV, I see. We’re in luck—that’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Dr. Tropp can surely answer—”
“No, Beverly, he surely can’t. The primary work done to cure the Bader and the Dorset from the effects of the liscom gas was done by you, not by Dr. Tropp, and in order to complete my report to Captain Go I need to know what you, as chief medical officer, did during that mission.”
Trying very hard not to clench her teeth, Crusher said, “All the information you need is in my log reports.”
“Yes, but I’d like your verbal account.”
“It won’t sound any different from the logs.” Crusher knew she was just being stubborn at this point.
“Indulge me.”
She smiled sweetly. “Do I have a choice?”
“Yes. You can talk to me now, or you can refuse, and I’ll go to Captain Go, who’ll order you to comply—probably with Captain Picard standing next to her.” Russell leaned back in her chair. “Come on, Beverly, it’s not like it matters that much. Yerbi’s position is yours if you want it, so it’s not like a report on one starship will have any effect on your future. Just tell me about what happened on Delta Sigma and that’ll be that.”
I suppose it was too much to hope that she wouldn’t know about the job offer. Not that there was any realistic chance of the medical grapevine not knowing about it by now, truth be told.
Letting out a long breath, Crusher set down the padd. “Fine. After settling on Delta Sigma IV, the Bader and the Dorset found that they were able to live in peace, even though the two species were at war everywhere else in the galaxy that they met. They also started suffering from significantly shorter life spans. Starfleet Medical determined that a gas native to the planet was affecting their cells’ ability to regenerate, and that they’d die within a few generations if a cure wasn’t found. Unfortunately, the liscom didn’t just lower their life expectancies—it also worked as a pacifying drug. With the drug removed, both species’ natural aggressiveness started to reassert itself. It didn’t take long for the planet to devolve into chaos.”
Russell nodded. “So you and your staff devised a treatment that would negate the liscom’s effects on their life span, but also put them back in the pacified state?”
“Yes. We—”
“You chose a shortcut in an attempt to get instant gratification. I’m sure it saved you the trouble of doing any real work necessary for research.” She stood up. “Thank you, Beverly, this has been most enlightening.”
For two seconds,