Dark Mirror - Diane Duane [65]
He touched the panel again, casually bringing up a schematic of the various power conduits and feeds into and out of the engineering section. There appeared to be three major pathways: one for distribution of power to ship’s systems; another, bifurcated farther down the line, for the warp nacelles; and a third. This went to some large unlabeled apparatus in the engine room.
Picard swallowed and turned away. What is that? he thought. From his memory of their last briefing, he remembered Data’s voice saying, A considerable amount of power would be required, and there is no planet or other fixed facility in this neighborhood to produce such an effect. From the look of it, that installation, whatever it was, seemed to be absorbing fully a third of the output of these massive engines.
He strolled away from the panel, looking thoughtfully at the forward viewscreen and the slow passage of stars upon it. Wait here a little while more, he thought. Then as soon as it seems natural, I’ll go down to engineering and get a look at that—whatever it is.
Behind him, the ‘lift doors slid open, and from around the bridge came the soft sound of people rising to their feet and saluting. For a calculated moment, Picard didn’t turn.
“Well, good morning, Captain,” said the soft voice from behind him.
Calmly he looked her way, seeing in the background that even Riker had risen. Deanna Troi was standing behind him, arms behind her back, eyeing him with a slight smile.
He felt it, then—the brush across his mind, light but in no way tentative, like a veil blown across the skin of his face. There and gone again. He blinked, surprised, and immediately smothered the surprise under an anger that was not entirely generated on purpose. “Counselor,” he said, frowning at her to help the effect.
She raised her eyebrows at him, genially enough, it seemed. “A little nervous this morning, are we?” she said.
He had always hated the medical we when it was used on him, and he liked it no better in this form. “You may be able to overhear them, Counselor,” he said, “but my emotions are not joint property. When I want your help with analyzing them, I’ll ask for it. Meanwhile”— Toujours l’audace, he thought, any move not an attack is ground lost!—”I should think you would be the one who should be nervous. One of your staff missing without a trace …” He had had only a few minutes to study the original’s attitude toward Troi, earlier, but it was better than nothing, and the content might as well be used, too. “This is a poor time for your department to start having trouble, considering how heavy its responsibilities are. But then these things will happen, I suppose. Personality conflicts. Perhaps Kowalski’s last promotion came a little too quickly for someone?” He did his best to smile like a man who had a secret. “Or some cause more sensitive … more private. Someone who might have been indiscreet—and someone willing to prevent it, for a price.”
“And if it was?” Troi smiled and turned away from him, utterly unconcerned. “What’s the point of rank if it doesn’t have its occasional perquisites?” She looked sideways at him, enjoying the game. “You haven’t been entirely behindhand in that regard yourself, Captain. Though it has been a matter of comment occasionally that you haven’t taken more. Some people would wonder about that. They’d take it as a sign you’re getting soft.”
“Personal preference,” Picard said, sounding aloof, and wondering what the devil she was talking about. “But never mind that. What efforts have you made to find our missing crewman?”
“Routine investigations are being made. I’ll let you know when we have results.”
It was a