All Good Things__ - Michael Jan Friedman [9]
Smiling, Ogawa crossed sickbay to attend to other things—and the doctor looked over the results displayed on the padd. Finally, satisfied that there could be no error, she turned to her patient, who had been watching her as she went over the data. “And?” he asked.
“Well,” she told him, “your blood-gas analysis is consistent with someone who’s been breathing the ship’s air for weeks. If you’d been somewhere else, there would be some indication of a change in your dissolved oxygen levelsrebut there isn’t any such indication. You haven’t left the Enterprise, Jean-Luc. Not as far as I can tell.”
He frowned. “I don’t understand,” he said. He got that faraway look again—the one that tore at Crusher’s heart. Unfortunately, the doctor thought, that wasn’t the worst news she would give him today.
Turning to Troi, she asked, “Counselor… would you be good enough to excuse us for a moment?”
The Betazoid looked a little surprised, but she took the request in .stride. “Of course,” she replied. And then, to the captain: “I’ll look in on you a little later.”
Jean-Luc nodded—but his gaze was fixed on the doctor now. He, too, wondered what kind of remarks required such privacy.
As Troi headed for the exit, Crusher met his scrutiny. This wasn’t going to be easy, she told herself. But, as his doctor, she had to tell him.
“Jean-Luc,” she began, “our scans didn’t show any evidence of Irumodic syndrome. But it did reveal a particular kind of defect in your parietal lobe.” She paused, choosing her words carefully. “It’s the kind of defect that could make you susceptible to several neurological disorders later in life… including Irumodic syndrome.” The captain absorbed the news. “I see,” he said. Until this moment, he had been dealing only with something he’d experienced elsewhere—more than like-ly, it seemed, in a particularly vivid nightmare. Now the nightmare—or at least this one aspect of itwwas invad-ing his real world.
Still, whatever dark prospects he contemplated, he kept them to himself. Outwardly, he didn’t show the least sign of self-pity.
“Now,” she continued, “it’s possible you could have that defect for the rest of your life without developing a problem. And even if the syndrome does develop, many people lead perfectly normal lives for a long time after its onset.”
Jean-Luc smiled wrylyweven courageously. “Then why,” he asked, “do you look like you’ve just signed my death sentence?”
He said it with a hint of a smile, so she wouldn’t get the wrong idea. Just as she had tried to break the tension earlier, he was trying his best to break it now.
After all, he knew that she would not be pleased about this either. Not only was she his physician, she was his friend. And at times, she had been on the verge of becoming something even more.
“Sorry,” said Crusher, unable to quite bring herself to smile with him. “I guess… this has caught me off guard.”
The captain took a contemplative breath and let it out. “Well, it’ll either happen or it won’t. However, since we have no control over it, there’s no point in worrying.” He looked at her with something akin to defiance in his eyes. “Besides,” he added, “something tells me you’re going to have to put up with me for a very long time.”
The doctor shrugged. “It won’t be easy,” she told him, attempting to match his attitude, “but I’ll manage.”
She wanted to say more, but she was interrupted by the entrance of First Officer Will Riker. Crossing sickbay in several long strides, he looked as serious as Crusher felt. Of course, Riker didn’t know anything about the potential for Irumodic syndrome, which worried the doctor even more than Jean-Luc’s current malady.
The captain eyed his second-in-command. “Well?” he inquired. “Did Worf find anything?”
Riker shook his head. “No, sir. His security scans came up negative.” He held his hands out in a gesture of apology. “They’re checking the sensor logs… but there’s still no indication that you left the ship?’
Jean-Luc slipped