Boogeymen - Mel Gilden [51]
Picard said, “Thank you, Lieutenant Shubunkin. You had better return to your work. We’ll be getting to Memory Alpha sooner or later. You want to be ready with your report.”
“But—”
“Thank you, Lieutenant. Number One, Mr. Crusher, come with me. Mr. Worf, you have the bridge.” Picard moved quickly to his ready room, Riker and Wesley following, leaving Shubunkin glaring after them. Picard heard Worf suggest that Shubunkin move along.
Picard touched a companel near his desk. “Dr. Crusher?”
“Here, Captain.”
“Anything to report?”
“A few things of interest,” Dr. Crusher said carefully. “It’s like a dormitory down here.”
“Please come to my ready room.”
“On my way, sir.”
Picard sat down behind the desk and said, “Mr. Crusher, both Data and Mr. La Forge are hard at work on the virus program, so you are here representing the science department.”
“Yes, sir,” Wesley said with all the seriousness of a young man who knew seriousness was called for.
“Somebody’s at the door,” a Boogeyman said, and everybody jumped.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” Picard said. “Come.”
Dr. Crusher walked in looking harried and tired. As she entered, she realized she was carrying a tricorder and slipped it into one of the big pockets of her smock.
“Sit down, Dr. Crusher. I hope that you have something interesting to tell us.”
“Interesting, yes. Helpful, I’m not so sure.” She sank onto the couch across the room from Picard’s desk and said, “I’ve cross-referenced the records of all personnel in a trance.” She smiled wanly. “It took a long time using only tricorders.”
“Go on, Doctor,” Picard said gently.
“All of them have telepathic indexes that are much higher than normal. Counselor Troi’s is the highest, but others are almost as high.”
“But why are they in a trance?” Riker said.
“That, Commander, I do not know.”
“Could something outside the Enterprise, something like the teardrop ship on Tantamon Four, be responsible for it?”
Dr. Crusher looked surprised at the question and then shook her head. After a deep sigh, she said, “But I do know this: alpha and delta waves indicate they are all in deep sleep, the kind you might experience in the middle of the night if you were getting a good rest. Activity in the hypothalamus is normal. However”—she sat forward on the couch, excited by her own revelations—”activity in the Martinez node of the thalamus makes a medical tricorder light up like a Christmas tree.”
“What goes on in the Martinez node?” Riker said.
“As far as we knew before, primitive emotional responses.”
“And now?”
“I don’t know.” She massaged her forehead as she went on. “The activity is entirely unexpected. I’ve never seen anything like it. The Martinez node seems to be coordinating a complex interaction between the cerebellum, which deals with movement, and the thalamus, which is the site of a crude form of consciousness. They are all very busy, but I have no idea what at.”
After a short silence, during which Dr. Crusher slumped back on the couch, obviously very tired, Picard said, “Is it possible that the Martinez node is being stimulated by alien influences?”
Wesley said, “If so, it’s hard to see why. All those people are doing is sleeping.”
“Doctor?” Picard said.
“I’m with Wesley. First contact is always a surprising business. Some unknown individual or race might be doing this, but it is difficult to see how they benefit.”
As a challenge, Riker said, “We are cruising at warp eight without the warp engines.”
Dr. Crusher’s eyebrows went up. She looked over at Wesley and he nodded. She said, “You think there’s a connection?”
“The Boogeymen and that virus are giving us big trouble, but they are not supernatural.”
Wesley allowed himself a smile. “Sir, are you suggesting that the Enterprise is haunted?”
“No,” said Riker very seriously. “I’m just suggesting that I can’t see a connection between our speed and our computer problems.”
Dr. Crusher nodded, considering.
“Dr. Crusher,” Picard said, “as far as we have been able