All Good Things__ - Michael Jan Friedman [53]
Data thought for a moment. “I have often considered leaving Starfleet for academic study.”
“So you’d like to teach?” Geordi asked.
“Possibly,” Data answered. “My first choice would be to do so at Cambridge University. In an ideal situation, I would hold the Lucasian Chair, which was also held by Sir Isaac Newton, Dr. Stephen Hawking, and Torar Olaffok.” He seemed to hesitate. “But that is only a possibility. Perhaps I will remain in Starfleet as well.”
It was time to check their instruments. “Okay,” said Geordi. “The pulse is holding steady. We’re starting to receive data from the scan …. “
“It will take the computer some time to give us a complete picture of the anomaly’s interior,” the android pointed out. “I suggest we—”
Before Data could finish his thought, Geordi felt a sudden stab of pain in both his eyes. “Damn!” he groaned, dropping his face into his hands. “What is wrong?” asked Data.
“I’m not sure…” answered the engineer. He just knew it hurt like hell—and he’d never felt this kind of pain before. “It’s like somebody put an ice pick through my temples… and my VISOR… it’s picking up all kinds of electromagnetic distortions …. “
He staggered, lost his balance… and felt the android catch him before he could fall. The next thing he knew, his friend was speaking to the intercom system.
“Data to sickbay. Medical emergency in main engineering…”
Picard shook his head. He’d had his hands full wres-tling with Q, his time shifts, and humanity’s survival. Now something else seemed to be rearing its ugly head.
As he looked on, Beverly pointed to Geordi’s eyes. The engineer was sitting on a biobed with his VISOR off.
“Look at them,” said the doctor. “You can see the difference yourself.”
It was true. Whereas Geordi’s eyes had previously been perfectly colorless, they now showed signs of having irises. The signs were faint, but they were there.
“Yes,” Picard responded. “I see.”
Picking up a scanning device, Beverly used it to perform a quick examination. As she looked at the results, her forehead wrinkled.
“What is it?” the captain asked.
“Nothing short of amazing,” she told him, still staring at the device. “The DNA in his optic nerves is being regenerated. I’m starting to see the formation of a retina. “She turned to Picard. “It’s as if he were growing brand-new eyes.”
Geordi swore beneath his breath. “I guess that’s why I started to feel pain. My optical cortex was falling out of alignment with my VISOR.”
Picard didn’t understand. “How is this possible?” he asked.
“It shouldn’t be possible at all,” returned the chief medical officer. “There’s no medical explanation for a spontaneous regeneration of dead tissue.”
As they pondered her remark, Nurse Ogawa approached them. She held out a padd to Beverly.
“Doctor,” said Ogawa, “we’ve just gotten reports from two crew members… Ensign Calan, and Lieutenant McBurney in astrophysics… who say they have old injuries that are healing themselves. I’m not sure what to make of it.”
The captain looked at her. “Healing… themselves?” he echoed.
Before they could go any further, Data approached them. He had been working at a terminal off to the side—and in his fascination with Geordi’s condition, Picard had all but forgotten that the android was there.
“I believe,” said Data, “that I may have a partial explanation for what is happening to Commander La Forge… and to the others as well, sir. If you would care to join me, I can show you what I mean.”
The captain and Beverly followed the android back to his terminal. Looking over Data’s shoulder at the monitor, Picard could see a rather complex diagram of the anomaly with various pieces of sensor information incorporated into it. He waited for an explanation—nor was it long in coming.
“I have completed my analysis of the anomaly,” said the android. “It appears to be a multiphasic temporal convergence in the space-time continuum.” The doctor frowned.