Boogeymen - Mel Gilden [16]
“Then the Axerii arrived.”
“Bingo. They arrived and began spoiling everything by making enemies where I had made friends.”
“That sounds like the Axerii.”
“Yeah. So I talked them up until the Yahk Shimash were eager to give the Axerii a demonstration of the mating ritual, the least disgusting part of which is being buried up to the chin in a specially prepared dunghill.”
Picard tried hard not to smile and failed.
Baldwin said, “The Axerii were not as amused as you are. But by the time they were married to one of the Yahk Shimash male-oids, I was gone.” He scratched behind his ear and said, “I’d heard they were after me. You have any sugar for this tea?”
“Try the food dispenser.” As Baldwin got up and asked the dispenser to produce some sugar, Picard said, “You don’t seem nearly as worried about your real enemies as you did about the potential enemies you spoke of this afternoon.”
Baldwin took a pinch of sugar from the bowl that appeared and said, “Those were just make-believe enemies. Being afraid of them is like being afraid of the bad guys in a holo. Almost entertainment, like. But”—he sat in his chair, sipped his tea, and smiled—”the Axerii are real. If I worried about them and others like them I’d be worrying all the time and going crazy because I haven’t disappeared yet.”
Picard was about to ask him if he still thought it necessary to disappear when the door chime twittered and instead Picard said, “Come.”
Worf entered with Lieutenant Shubunkin, who stepped forward and said, “Am I under arrest, Captain?”
Picard glanced at Worf, who stiffened. People who didn’t know him sometimes mistook Worf’s forceful personality for belligerence. While he was not the pussycat Tasha Yar had sometimes made him out to be, he was also not the undisciplined beast that others feared.
Trying to keep a straight face for Worf’ sake, Picard said, “I’m sorry if Lieutenant Worf gave you that impression. I assure you he was escorting you for your own protection.”
“Why would I need protection?”
Baldwin said, “Commander Mont is dead.”
For the first time Picard saw Shubunkin’s face go white. He asked what happened, and Picard explained, with the inevitable footnotes from Baldwin.
Shubunkin said, “It seems that Professor Baldwin is the one who needs the protection.”
“Don’t you have any enemies, Shubunkin?” Baldwin said.
“Of course. But they are academic enemies. Their weapon of choice is the scholarly paper, not the dagger.”
“Let us hope you are correct,” Picard said. “Working alone, Lieutenant, will you still be able to give Starfleet a preliminary report in two weeks?”
“Of course. Professor Baldwin’s report on the d’Ort’d is quite complete and well organized.”
“D’Ort’d?” Picard asked.
Baldwin set down his teacup and said, “That’s as close as I can get to what the silver teardrop people call themselves. It probably means ‘the people’ or something like that. Most racial names mean that.” As Baldwin got more excited, he began to outline big mountains with his hands. “As far as I can tell, the d’Ort’d take an entirely different approach to technology from the one taken by any members of the Federation. They speak of their machines the same way they speak of their bodies. I don’t get it yet, but I will.”
“We will,” Shubunkin said.
“In two weeks?” Baldwin said and laughed.
Picard said, “Despite your assurances, Lieutenant Shubunkin, you and Professor Baldwin will both be covered by round-the-clock security, starting now.” He nodded at Worf, who nodded back.
“Two weeks,” Baldwin said again and shook his head.
Shubunkin attempted to look unassailable.
That evening at dinner, Wesley went over the day in his mind. It had been a great day. He’d learned about the Borders scale from Lieutenant Shubunkin, Data had helped him write the Boogeyman program, and Geordi had guided him through the installation process. Wesley could almost feel the Boogeymen lying in wait inside the holodeck computer.