Hard Crash - Christie Golden [10]
"Can you awaken him? The captain will have a lot of questions."
Lense hesitated. "Let's give him some time. I want him more stable before I force him into consciousness. While we're waiting, I can begin the examination of the pilot." She nodded her curly dark head in the pilot's direction. "She should have a great deal to tell me about her race, if not necessarily her ship."
Gomez lingered, looking anxiously at the still Bynar. "Sonya," said Lense, gently, "I'll let you know the minute we learn anything."
Gomez nodded her head, knowing a cue when she heard one. "Thanks, Doctor." She turned and exited, running sMcAllan into Duffy.
"Sorry!" Gomez said.
"No, it's my fault. Wasn't watching where I was going." Lense looked at the two of them. It wasn't a secret they had once been involved. And judging by their awkwardness around each other when they weren't in the midst of a mission, they hadn't figured out what to do about that past involvement.
Duffy was wincing and clutching his hand. "Oh, no, did I hurt you?" said Gomez.
"No, no," Duffy protested through clenched teeth. "I was heading down here to get this fixed."
"I'm sure I didn't help it any," said Gomez. "Sorry, Kieran." She hastened out.
Lense smiled. "Let me take care of that for you." The injury wasn't serious, just a bad sprain. When she was done, Duffy flexed his hand and gave her a grateful look.
"Thanks, Doctor. See you, Emmett."
"See you, Lieutenant Commander Duffy," said Emmett, with perfect correctness if too much formality. Lense would have to work on that with him.
Lense turned back to the task at hand. Her gaze traveled up and down the small, slight frame on the bed. Space had not done its usual fine job of preserving the body in this case. According to what the away team had reported, the ship had continued to maintain atmosphere, and the body had decayed normally. At the moment, it was safely encased by a force field; Starfleet S.O.P for the da Vinci in bringing any non-living organic matter aboard.
Lense glanced at the readings. Nothing dangerous detected. She could safely eliminate the forcefield, but she would keep the body in stasis. Otherwise, the smell would be unbearable, and she wanted to prevent the body from decaying any further. She touched a button, then stepped beside the body.
A thought occurred to her. "Emmett," she said, "have you ever performed an autopsy?"
"I am perfectly capable of performing an autopsy." He looked offended. "It's a standard part of my programming."
She held up a placating hand. "Of course, you know how to do one, but have you ever actually done so? On an alien about whom we know nothing?"
He looked a little excited. "No, I haven't."
"You'll find this fascinating," she assured him. "I've been doing some comparative research on how this used to be performed in the old days, and how it's done in other cultures. A few hundred years ago, they had no holographic technology. IF you wanted to find out how someone had died, you had to literally cut them open."
The sensitive hologram stared, mouth slightly open. "That's...barbaric," he stammered.
"Well, naturally, we think so, but that's only because we have other methods to gain information," she replied. "And there's something about actually seeing inside a body, touching it, weighing the organs. It makes you respect death a little more, I think."
"I prefer to respect life," Em replied primly.
"Of course you respect life. Every doctor does. But on this mission, you and I are dealing mainly with the dead. You'll need to cultivate respect for them too."
Em's face furrowed. "But, Doctor, surely dealing with a holographic representation shows more respect to the body than cutting it open."
"Yes--after a fashion. But let's begin. You'll see what