Boogeymen - Mel Gilden [70]
“Here?” Wesley said.
“In our direction.”
Did the captain know something he wanted to tell them, or did he hope they had something to tell him?
“Where is he?” La Forge said.
“Deck thirteen and traveling.”
La Forge stood up, blinked, and shook his head. “It’s not fair to feel this heavy without having eaten something wonderful first.”
Wesley stood up more carefully than La Forge had and said, “Gravity is our friend, Geordi.”
La Forge gave Wesley a dirty look and began climbing. He said, “If we keep moving we ought to meet him around deck fifteen.” He took a step, and his foot was still in the air when the stairwell tilted, throwing all of them into the hatch to deck seventeen. They lay in a heap in a trough made by the hatch and the landing before it; the staircase they’d just ascended now looked like a corrugated floor.
As they sought to untangle themselves, Wesley heard a roar. “What’s that?” He had to shout to be heard.
“Air recyclers,” said Data.
Wesley and La Forge began to gasp.
“Can’t …” La Forge said and then collapsed.
Red blotches appeared before Wesley’s eyes, and a pounding in his ears blotted out the hurricane whoosh of the air recyclers. The last thing he remembered before he passed out was Data shaking him by the shoulders and asking him if he was all right.
Chapter Fifteen
PICARD AWOKE with an environmental mask over his face. The stuff he was breathing had an odd smell, but Starfleet put the smell into emergency air canisters on purpose, and he knew it would not hurt him.
The last thing he remembered was gasping for breath on the gangway between decks thirteen and fourteen. He had a vague impression that Mr. Worf had carried him to where he now lay. If that was true, he had probably also put the environmental mask on him.
The Boogeymen were becoming stronger. Picard was certain they had it within their power to destroy the Enterprise at this moment, if only they knew how. Wesley had designed them to be crafty and merciless, but evidently they needed time to absorb information from the main computer. Of course, an invulnerable and omnipotent enemy would be no more interesting to fight than one you could defeat without trying. Lucky for them all that the Boogeymen were not perfect.
Deck fourteen was a residential section, and crew members were sprawled all around Picard. Others moved among them, making them more comfortable. They all wore environmental masks, which made them look a little sinister, like Borg insects, perhaps.
Enterprise’s designers had been wise to make the availability of emergency masks a function of pressure rather than of the computer. A loss of pressure caused the ceiling canisters to open and let the masks drop. It was an entirely mechanical process and therefore not under the control of the Boogeymen.
Picard stood up, a little shakily at first, and asked an ensign where Mr. Worf and Commander Riker were. The ensign had no idea. Neither did the lieutenant Picard asked next. In the confusion caused by the catastrophic pressure drop it would be easy to lose a person or two. Picard decided to wait where he was. Riker and Worf were sure to return. He walked up and down the corridor, peeked into rooms to make sure the occupants were all right, offered words of comfort where he could.
There was much curiosity, but no hysteria, no panic. Picard was proud of his people.
He was explaining about the Boogeymen and the d’Ort’d to a small crowd of crew members when Riker and Worf returned. With them were La Forge, Data, and Wesley.
“We found them on deck seventeen,” Worf said as if he’d found his missing socks at last.
La Forge said, “We were coming to meet you, sir. Then everything went black.”
“We experienced a sudden and dangerous pressure drop,” Data said. “It was fortunate that the pressure drop was the same both on deck seventeen and on the gangway. Otherwise I never would have gotten the hatch open and gained access to the environmental masks.”
“Data saved our lives,” Wesley said, obviously pleased.