Gulliver's Fugitives - Keith Sharee [18]
His own neck muscles had acquired a painful rigidity and he had to make a conscious effort to relax and avoid a spasm. Fateful decisions were arrayed before him like the forking paths of a labyrinth.
“They’re taking him toward transporter room four—same one they came in on,” Worf told Riker. “My people can converge and surprise—”
“No, Worf.”
“But sir, we can’t just sit here and let them take the captain off our ship.”
“How do you know they won’t simply kill all of our people at the moment of first approach? Anyway, if all the Rampartians wanted to do was to execute the captain they would have already done so. If we interfere now we might force them to it.”
“If I went down there myself, sir, I could—”
“You’re staying on the bridge, Worf.”
Worf emitted a low growl resembling that of a grizzly bear as he returned his attention to his console.
Riker wasn’t alarmed by the guttural sound. He knew Worf well enough to recognize the growl as a way of venting Klingon steam. Worf would do his duty.
“They’re at the transporter room door,” said Worf.
The precise, clipped voice of Ferris came over the bridge speakers.
“Commander Riker, acknowledge. This is Major Ferris.”
“He’s using the captain’s communicator,” said Worf.
“This is Riker. Is the captain all right?”
“He is conscious and in good condition,” said Ferris.
“Let me speak to him.”
“Open the door to the transporter room first.”
“Give me a moment.”
Crichton broke into the conversation.
“Riker. I remind you that your captain is of use to me only while I have your cooperation. Stop cooperating and I will kill him.”
Riker looked at Worf. “They controlled those doors to let their devices out. They can probably get back in too, but don’t want us to know it. Anyway, we don’t have a choice. Open the doors, and give us visual.”
Worf’s face twitched as he touched his panel.
A view of the transporter room flickered onto the bridge viewscreen. The same transporter room from which the Rampartians’ one-eyes had launched their attack.
The unconscious forms of two security ensigns, one man and one woman, lay to the side of the platform. Transporter Chief O’Brien was sprawled near the console.
Ferris and Crichton entered with Picard between them. They held his arms at his sides. A one-eye glided over and hovered near O’Brien’s head.
Riker kept his eyes on this scene as he called his ace in the hole, chief engineer Geordi La Forge.
“Riker to La Forge.”
“La Forge here, Commander,” came the reply over bridge speakers.
“Prepare to override the transporter circuits.”
“Override is standing by. When can I get a look at the intruder devices?”
“Switch your viewer to the bridge channel. You can watch along with us.”
“Aye, switching … Damn! They’ve still got the captain!”
“We may be able to change that. Stand by. Data, can you tell what that device is doing to O’Brien?”
“Some type of scanning, possibly for metabolic signs.”
“What is O’Brien’s condition?”
“Comatose, like the two security ensigns. Sir, it is possible that the device is reading the memory information encoded in O’Brien’s brain tissue, and that it is also capable of reading the thoughts, the active brain waves, he’d have if he were conscious.”
When there was no response, Data turned around to look at Riker. Riker was still pondering the remark.
“I think you have something there, Data,” Riker said finally.
“It would explain a lot, Commander … why the other one-eyes left O’Brien alive, for instance: to save information valuable to them. And, why they have been able to outwit and outshoot the personnel they have encountered.”
On the screen, Crichton held a communicator—the communicator stolen from Picard—and brought it to his mouth. Yes, thought Riker, Ferris and Crichton would know all about our communicators if their one-eyes have been reading minds. And just think of how much else they would know …
“Riker.”
“I’m listening.”
“And watching us as well.”
Riker upwardly revised his estimate of what Ferris and Crichton knew about the Enterprise.
“We are going to transport