Intellivore - Diane Duane [54]
Ileen smiled. “I’ve never played chicken with a planet before,” she said. “You thought of that just now, while we were sitting here? Remind me not to play Go with you.”
“I shall.” Picard looked around. “Ladies and gentlemen, it appears we have a job to do. Let’s go see to it.”
Chapter Eight
THERE COMES THAT TIME when a captain, having commanded, must get out of his crew’s way and let them work. Picard knew it. There were times, though, when it was very difficult. This was one.
Nonetheless, he restrained himself valiantly from going down to engineering, where Geordi and Data were making antimatter and struggling with the screens. He kept himself out of sickbay; the single survivor of Oraidhe would most likely be struggling with his own grief and confusion at the moment, and the sight of the Enterprise’s captain might not help him. He even got off the bridge, where Riker and Ileen Maisel and Frances Pickup and a few others were doing the detail work, the tactical planning, on the broad strategic plan that Picard had sketched out for them.
However, because he found that he desperately did not want to, he took himself down to the cargo bay. Or, more accurately, he now had to spend a little time judging which one to go to. There were four of them now, aboard Enterprise anyway, and two on Marignano: huge rooms full of mats, and silent people, empty eyes looking up in the light, people being turned to one side or the other, to keep the pressure of their bones from burrowing through their skin over hours and days. Intradermal feedings, quiet care … and the medical staff of two ships moving quietly from person to person. The staff spoke in murmurs, as if not to wake the sleepers. But there was no chance they would awaken.
Beverly found him, as it happened, long before he thought to look for her himself. For a while they just stood together, looking at the room. He said, “How are you doing … you and your people?”
“Better than last time,” she said. “Doing something always helps.”
Picard nodded, looking around. He paused, then said, “Where’s Clif?”
Beverly shook her head. “He’s gone,” she said.
Picard looked at her in sudden shock.
“He had his release requirement on file,” she said. “Everything was in order. And this is exactly the kind of condition for which it was intended. When all this is over, you’ll want to schedule a ceremony for the disposition of the bodies.”
Picard nodded. “When this is over.”
They walked a little. “Do you think we’re going to pull this one off?” he said.
She glanced at him sideways. It was almost a sly look. “I think we have a chance. If we don’t … we’ll certainly have very little time to think about it.” She raised her eyebrows. “If anyone can pull this off, though, Data can. As for the rest of us, we’ll be sleeping sweetly.”
They walked a little farther. “I think that’s the part of it I hate most,” Picard said.
Another sideways look. “The loss of control …” Beverly said.
Picard nodded. “Not just that, though. Would it sound too childish to say that I’m really going to miss the action? The adrenaline rising, the excitement of it all happening … the adrenaline’s going to rise,