Ghost Ship - Diane Carey [64]
Geordi waved his arms and complained, “What’re you doing?”
It took him several seconds to climb down, but that was enough for Data to step back and press the closure circuit for the transparent contamination wall. Two clear wall panels slid out from sockets in the opposite walls and closed in the middle just as Geordi reached them. He was forced to watch helplessly as Data shorted out the lock and fused it. A flare of sparks, and Geordi was trapped.
“Data! What’s this for? Why are you doing this?”
“I’m sorry, Geordi,” the android said, and truly he sounded sorry. “This may be the only time when I am not expected to be on the bridge.”
Geordi’s voice was muffled now behind the clear wall. “I don’t get it. Let me out.”
“I will be taking a shuttlecraft. Please inform the captain and Mr. Riker that I will attempt to get closer to the creature in hopes of communicating more clearly with it.”
Geordi pressed his hands on the transparency. “Data, come on, don’t. Don’t! That’s insane. Come on, open up. Don’t do this. Don’t risk your life.”
“Some would say I have no life to risk.”
“Oh, don’t be a wart! Open the door. How’m I supposed to inform the captain of anything if I’m stuck in here.”
“That is an excellent point. But I must take advantage of the opportunity.” He started to turn away, only to stop, pause, turn back. He gazed at the floor for a moment, then looked up once again at the only person who’d ever treated him completely like a human being.
“Thank you for the past, my friend,” he said, his face astonishingly animate. Now he grinned sentimentally and added, “You’ve been a pal.”
Chapter Nine
THE CAPTAIN STRODE back into his ready room after being gone for nearly forty-five minutes. Deanna Troi still sat where he’d last seen her, her hands still folded in her lap, and she blinked as though coming out of a trance.
Picard came around his desk into her line of sight, though she already knew he was here, and waited until she looked at him.
“They’re waiting outside. They’ve been fully briefed. Are you sure you’re up to this?”
Troi sighed and nodded. “Believe me, sir,” she said, “I’m just as worried about my own sanity as I am about those beings out there. I’d like an end to this. And I need help finding it.”
“Dr. Crusher has been reviewing up-to-date medical policy and debate on the rights of the terminally ill and all current hospice psychology and the thoughts of terminal patients in every sentient species-“
“That’s my profession, Captain,” Troi said, a twinge of defensiveness creeping into her voice.
“I didn’t think it wise for you to be doing research right now. However, I’ll need your expertise to collate the information the doctor is bringing in with her. Fair enough?”
She managed a thin smile, but one that conveyed genuine gratitude, and she said, “You’re very gracious, sir. I didn’t think of that myself. I might indeed be inaccurate at the moment.”
Picard slid into his chair and said, “I’m not worried that you will be. You seem perfectly in charge of yourself, at least for the moment. I haven’t noticed any aberrations in your personality, Counselor.”
“But it may come, sir,” she admitted softly. “I’m fighting even now to maintain my individuality. I don’t know how long I can deal with the pressure from them. It’s beginning to affect me physically. I feel weak and nervous, as you might feel after exerting too much energy.”
At her solemn tone, even Picard had to stifle a wave of concern. His doubt began to stir. This made him uncomfortable, this inconcrete business, and he steeled himself to accept what she had said and what she would be saying over the next few minutes. He’d had to do that before-depend on those whose talents were other than his own. He would tug the cord of instinct and insight if he had to, but as he looked at her and saw her effort to remain in control, he knew guesswork would be only a last resort. Starfleet had surrounded him with people of various abilities, and it was his duty to make use of them.
“Yes,” he murmured. “I’m depending upon you to hold your ground against