Ghost Ship - Diane Carey [66]
“Dying is irreversible in my estimation,” Picard said. “At least I thought so until now.”
“They’re not dead,” Troi said. Her steadiness was wearing thin. She felt it pull and strain against the crushing pressure of a million identities. She heard it in the sudden flatness in her voice, and knew it showed in the immobility of her body. She tried to force her legs into a more social position, but they remained tightly knee to knee, and soon she gave up trying. This discussion was time wasted, chewing at her, frustrating her. She knew what the decision had to be. Over and over in her mind echoed her own words: They’re not dead. They’re not dead.
“I accept that,” the captain said. “They have yet to experience their deaths. I may be old-fashioned, but to me death is final. Death doesn’t have degrees. Suffering does, but not death. This isn’t a matter of betting one way or the other. It’s a matter of deciding to intervene.”
“Or deciding not to,” Riker plowed in.
They all looked at him, and discomfort entered the room.
“Yes … ” Dr. Crusher murmured, eyeing him. It took her a moment to return her full attention to the captain. “Well, there’s also an additional problem; over about the past century and a half, medical doctrine has had to include some very strange lifeforms and all their habits, customs, physiologies, and abilities.”
“I can’t decide for the whole galaxy, doctor,” the captain said. “Let’s stay with humans, shall we?”
“I thought you’d say that, so I did. And I agree with you on that point.”
“That’s heartening, but could you give me a bit more?”
“Oh … a bit.”
“Oh, God … “
“You did ask, sir.”
“Yes, I did. Go on.”
“Where was I? Oh, yes. There are the mythological and religious concepts of death, which involve the soul leaving the body-“
Picard’s finger shot forward. “Now, we’re not going to get into defining the soul, are we? I unconditionally refuse.”
Crusher looked surprised. “Well, I’m certainly not. What you’ll have to do before this is over, I can’t predict. Anyway, there’s that concept, and there’s the medical concept, which is a process. It’s the difference between a door being closed and the whole building disintegrating. Medical science believes there’s nothing to come back to. And there’s also a veritable blur of platitudes from the religious sector, which I’ll bet you don’t even want to hear.”
“I’d be so grateful,” Picard said with a fatigued nod. “I’ve been trying to demythologize this from the start. I intend to stay with policy regarding the terminally ill and use that for a fulcrum.”
“But these people aren’t terminally ill,” Riker interrupted, somehow feeling he’d have to be holding the rudder on this conversation. “For all we know, they could go on like this indefinitely.”
Silently Troi nodded, not looking up. When she spoke it was with absolute conviction in those voices she heard in her mind. “That,” she said, “is their biggest fear.”
“Counselor,” the captain addressed her, since she had drawn attention back to herself, “you say you feel a unanimous opinion. Can you guarantee you’re picking up on all the feelings, all the life essences?”
Cool sweat broke out on her palms. She felt her control begin to slip. “No, I can’t. The opinion is unanimous among all those who still retain a solid consciousness.”
“Hold it right there,” Riker said. “That