Boogeymen - Mel Gilden [32]
As they approached the cross corridor, three Boogeymen swarmed toward them. Bored, frustrated, very unhappy, Picard grabbed the nearest Boogeyman by the neck and slammed his head against the wall. Evidently Data was also tired of this particular method of attack because he took care of the other two Boogeymen. The three lay on the floor in an unclean heap.
“That’s done with, anyway,” said Picard.
“Yes, sir. Where to now?”
Indeed, that was the question. He considered all they knew about the situation. “Let’s use Occam’s razor,” Picard said.
“Ah,” said Data. “The theory that the simplest explanation covering all the facts is the correct one.” He shrugged. “It is not very scientific, but it is a place to begin.”
Picard touched his insignia and got the audio twinkle. He said, “Ensign Crusher.”
No answer.
“Try Captain Crusher.”
Picard tried it, to the same effect.
“Still some kind of interference,” Data said.
“Very well.” Picard touched a companel and said, “Computer.”
“Working.”
“Tell me the location of Captain Wesley Crusher.”
“Captain Wesley Crusher is on the main bridge.”
“Why is he not answering his communicator?”
“No one has called him.”
“His presence on the bridge follows the pattern,” Data said. “The computer seems determined to give each of us our fondest fantasy and then pervert it. Lieutenant Yar was a traitor, and Wesley was abducted right under the nose of master sleuth Dixon Hill.”
“Then Wesley could be in serious trouble.”
Picard and Data hurried into a turbolift and went to the bridge. Neither of them spoke as they rode. When the turbolift slowed, they sank into martial arts crouches. The doors shushed open. Before they stepped onto the bridge, Picard peered out at it. A star field was on screen. A Boogeyman sat at the conn and another at Ops. A third sat in the center seat. They did not look up at the sound of the arriving lift.
“It all seems very placid,” Picard said quietly.
“Yes, sir. Unnervingly so.”
“Are you unnerved, Mr. Data?”
“Merely a metaphor. It is very strange.”
“Take up a position at the foot of the tactical rail.”
“Aye, sir.”
They walked onto the bridge. Picard expected the Boogeymen to leap at them at any moment. Tension wound tighter and tighter inside him as nothing continued to happen. To be constantly vigilant could be more wearing than to be constantly in action.
He stood in front of the captain Boogeyman, blocking his view of the main screen. Still nothing happened. The Boogeyman just sat with his hands knitted across his large belly. To be ignored was maddening.
Picard said, “Where is Captain Crusher?”
The Boogeyman clasped his hands in the air and cried, “We win!”
“You win what?” Picard asked angrily.
“We win!” the Boogeyman said again with his arms raised.
Picard sighed, looked at Data, and said, “You win. End program. Abandon and exit.”
Nothing happened.
Picard shook his head. “I’m out of ideas, Mr. Data.”
“I have one, sir.”
Picard sank into the chair normally occupied by Counselor Troi and rubbed his face with one hand. “We might as well discuss it here as anywhere. The computer can hear us wherever we go.”
“Yes, sir. I have noticed something interesting in the actions of the people we’ve met.”
“Go on.”
“The reaction time of the ninjas accompanying Lieutenant Yar was microseconds slower than I would have expected.”
“Is that important?”
“I believe it is, sir. In the world of computer simulations, a microsecond is a significant period of time. The Boogeymen who abducted Wesley from the Howe greenhouse also moved slowly. As do these Boogeymen here. I might also point out that when you called for an exit while holo-people were present, the exit was noticeably late.”
“All of which means what?”
“In each case, I believe the slowdown occurred because more people were generated by the holodeck computer than it could easily handle in its present weakened and polluted condition.”
Picard sat up a little straighter. Perhaps there was hope yet for Wesley, for all of them. “We have never seen more than