Gauntlet - Michael Jan Friedman [53]
“You know me that well, do you?”
Simenon scowled. “I’m afraid I do.”
“And—just hypothetically—what if I did ask you to enhance the sensors, however unreasonably?”
The engineer’s nostrils flared, an indication that he was growing increasingly annoyed. “Why bother to speculate? Having heard me say it can’t be done, you would never ask.”
“Yes,” said Ben Zoma. “Of course. But . . . if I did?”
Simenon glowered at him, then took a deep breath and said, “I’ll see what I can do.”
The first officer watched him return to where some of the other engineers were standing and apprise them of their latest assignment. To their credit, they didn’t grumble. They just got to work, no matter how daunting their objective.
And Ben Zoma went to tell his friend Picard that they had a problem—even if Simenon did manage to do the impossible and squeeze a little more out of the sensors.
* * *
“I see,” said Picard, leaning back into the chair behind the desk in his ready room. “And what do you recommend?”
Ben Zoma, who was seated on the other side of the black plastic desk, frowned and shook his head. “Simenon has probably done all he can. If we’re going to make any strides from here on, they’ll have to come from the science section.”
“From Lieutenant Valderrama?” Picard asked.
“That’s right.”
It wasn’t normally the responsibility of the science section to work on engineering issues. However, the captain could appreciate his first officer’s logic.
If they had come as far as they could with what they had—and it seemed that they had—they needed a new approach to the problem. They had to devise a way of “seeing” that transcended EM flux scans, neutrino imaging, and graviton spectrometry.
The ship’s science personnel would have the greatest understanding of this environment. If anyone could devise a new strategy for obtaining information under the conditions imposed by Beta Barritus, it would be the people serving under Valderrama.
Part of Picard couldn’t help wishing Cariello were still with them—that she were still available to solve problems like these. He knew what Cariello could accomplish, but Valderrama was still a question mark in his mind.
Unfortunately, Cariello was no longer an option. Now it was Valderrama’s turn to show what she could do to justify the faith Picard had shown in her. With luck and encouragement, perhaps she would come up with what they needed.
“Speak to Lieutenant Valderrama,” the captain told Ben Zoma. “Let her know what we require of her.”
“Will do,” his friend assured him. However, he didn’t leave to carry out the order.
“What is it?” Picard asked.
“If we’re going to ask something this important of Valderrama, we should provide her with all the help we can.”
The captain nodded. “Agreed. Tell Valderrama that she can have as many bodies as she needs. She has my approval in advance.”
“Immediately,” said the first officer. Then he got up and headed for the exit.
Suddenly Picard got an idea—a way to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.
“Number One?” he called.
Ben Zoma stopped and looked back at him. “Sir?”
“Let’s include Ensign Jiterica among the crewmen assigned to the science section.”
Picard didn’t see the Nizhrak catching on in a demanding environment like weapons or engineering—not when she had had so many difficulties in less problematic environments. Perhaps she would have an easier time of it under Valderrama.
“Will do,” Ben Zoma told him, and left the captain’s ready room the way he had entered it.
Jiterica moved her containment suit in the direction of the double doors at the end of the corridor. As the doors slid apart for her, they revealed a hallway beyond.
There were three people standing in it. Only one of them looked the least bit familiar to Jiterica. That was Lieutenant Valderrama, whom she had seen in the corridor near sickbay the day before.
As the lieutenant caught sight of the Nizhrak, she gave her companions some additional instructions—enough to send them on their way.