Gulliver's Fugitives - Keith Sharee [96]
Data’s hands danced a pas de deux on the keyboard.
“Sir, I believe that the ship’s computer and I will be able to decode this language. We are already detecting a repeated string.”
“Perhaps we’ll call it Data’s Cartouche,” said Picard. “The key to your Rosetta Stone.”
“The cartouche is already giving up its secrets, sir. The computer has translated it as a string of names. Odysseus, Rhiannon, Gunabibi, Coyote … there are two dozen of them.”
Troi watched the viewscreen as the last of the Dissenters, Amoret as it happened, was borne away from CephCom by the haguya.
“There was one thing the Dissenters told me that I didn’t believe at the time,” Troi said. “They said the haguya understood human speech and sat around the campfire at night, listening to all the stories. Now I have a feeling that it was no exaggeration.”
“It may not have been,” said Data. “The patterns of their own communications resemble long stories, like the songs of whales. These haguya could be storytellers themselves.”
“Mr. Data,” said Picard, “have the computer record as much of the haguya-talk as you can. But let’s track our man now.”
Data tabbed his keypad.
On the screen, Bowles turned and headed alone into the CephCom building. He seemed to be in a hurry.
“Stay with him, Data.”
Data switched between the signals of several cameras, putting the various scenes up on the viewscreen. In a view from a one-eye, looking over somebody’s shoulder, a knot of huddled CS men on the bridge talked a blue streak, a torrent of excited confusion in the aftermath of the haguya’s appearance. In another view, down on the quadrangle, several CS men could be seen pointing toward the sky.
“I am afraid we will not be able to pick up signals inside the buildings, sir.”
“Keep at it,” said Picard. Then he turned to Troi.
“Counselor, you still feel strongly that Crichton is Bowles?”
“More than ever. The CS could have brainwashed him. It could have been incomplete—Odysseus told me such things happen. The Bowles Persona could have been waiting for a cue to re-emerge. And we could have been the cue. This incident with the haguya may have pushed him past the critical point. What he did just now, freeing the Dissenters and protecting the haguya, certainly didn’t look like the actions of Crichton.”
Picard nodded to himself.
“It fits,” he said. “His disfigurement could have resulted from the destruction of the Huxley. That crude reconstructive surgery would have kept our computer from recognizing him.”
“If we get him back,” said Riker, “let’s hope he still has some memories about the fate of the Huxley crew.”
“Yes, Will, let’s not forget we’re looking for more than just one crewperson. Worf, what’s the status of the Rampartian ships?”
“Holding at a radius of five thousand kilometers, sir.”
“Advise the moment you see a more aggressive posture. In the meantime, see if you can hail Bowles. But just say that we want to talk to Director Crichton.”
“Aye, sir. Trying …”
“And please advise Starfleet that we’ll be staying here just a bit longer, on my authority.”
“Aye, sir. So far we are getting no response from Rampart.”
“Captain,” said Troi, “they may be too confused by the appearance of the haguya to reply right now. It is also possible they will not allow us to speak to the one they know as Crichton. He could be in danger of arrest. I would guess he has been for a while.”
Bowles was acutely conscious of the possibility of arrest as he hurried back to his office.
Crichton’s office, actually. Bowles still had all the facts about Crichton and the CS in his memory.
He tried to appear calm as he brushed past CS officers and soldiers in the corridors. He stayed as far as he could from the one-eyes.
He knew what the procedure would be if he were caught. Crichton had ordered such procedures on others many times. The CS didn’t bother re-blanking the minds that had already failed the procedure