Boogeymen - Mel Gilden [60]
Worf ran back to his post at the tactical rail and began to punch buttons. He growled and then said, “This is hopeless.” He gripped the rail.
“The computer is down?” Perry said.
“Not down,” said Riker, “but definitely falling.”
“What about using a tricorder?”
Picard considered that idea along with everyone else. He said, “A tricorder’s range is limited, and Baldwin could be anywhere on the ship. We could be hunting for a long, long time.”
“Perhaps there is a way,” Worf said. “With the tricorder on external setting, we might be able to use it and Enterprise’s sensor net together.”
“Without our tricorder becoming contaminated?” Riker said.
“I believe so. We would not link the tricorder with the ship’s computer system. The sensor net would merely be a kind of antenna for the tricorder. The tricorder would do all the actual data processing.”
“Very good, Mr. Worf,” Picard said.
Perry still looked doubtful. “Where is the nearest tricorder?” she asked.
“Sickbay,” said Riker.
“Right you are, Number One. Lead the way.”
With a grim, wolfish smile, Riker worked the mechanical lock and pushed open the door to the gangway. Emergency light bars were like blue threads that followed.the stairs down. Picard suggested they take flashlights anyway, against the good possibility that the Boogeymen would sense their presence in the stairwell and deprive them of light.
The gangway was an eerie place. The air was cool and dead. No attempt had been made to beautify the place. Cables and conduits lined the walls. The occasional sensing mechanism beeped and flashed. In all his years as captain of the Enterprise, this was only the second time Picard had been on the gangway. The first time, it had been part of his welcoming tour.
The metal stairs rang like gongs with each step they took; their shadows jumped and danced, grew and diminished. It was not difficult for Picard to imagine armies of Boogeymen following them or rising from below to meet them.
When they reached deck twelve, Riker manipulated another lock. As he pushed open the door to the corridor, a portable memo screen floated past. A lieutenant swam after it, looking a little green. Starfleet still demanded that all personnel have a zero-g rating, but the skills required to get the rating were not often needed aboard a starship. And with the skills went the discipline of the stomach. When the lieutenant saw Picard, he grabbed one of the ornamental pillars that lined the corridor and said, “We seem to have a gravity leak, sir.”
“Gravity leak?” Riker asked.
“Yes, sir. The gravity gradient is gradually decreasing, as if the gravity were running out.”
Picard said, “So I see. Very picturesque. Carry on, Lieutenant …”
“Hiller, sir.”
“Of course. Carry on, Lieutenant Hiller.”
The lieutenant nodded, grimaced, and swam toward sickbay.
Picard stepped out of the stairwell and immediately lost all his weight. His mass remained the same, of course, but that was of less concern to him than the discomfort rising from his stomach and twirling in his brain. For the moment he was not sorry that the food slots were not functioning properly. “Come on,” he said, hoping he sounded more encouraging than he felt.
He followed Lieutenant Hiller into sickbay and slowly sank till his feet touched the floor. It was obvious that there was a gravity leak in sickbay, too, but the gravity coils still worked a little, for which he was grateful. Behind him, Riker, Worf, and Perry landed. Worf said, “A warrior was not meant to be a bird.”
A few children still lolled around sickbay, but they looked considerably more chipper than Picard felt. Dr. Crusher was using a hypospray on Lieutenant Hiller. When she saw Picard and the others, she said, “Antinausea medicine. Wait right there. The four of you are next.”
Troi approached Picard and said, “What is going on, sir?”
Worf growled and said, “Boogeymen.”
“They have the ship?”
“Not yet,” said Riker.
Dr. Crusher hit Picard in the arm with the hypo, and he heard it hiss. Seconds later his stomach settled and his brain stopped