Intellivore - Diane Duane [61]
“I am functioning,” Data’s voice said, but it came from the annunciator system, not from his throat. “I judge that it would confuse matters if I try to operate my body and the ship at the same time: it seems wiser to run one or the other.”
“All right,” Picard said. “Data, you, too, should probably try to behave as much like the ship itself as possible, for the time being.”
“I have been doing so, Captain. In any case, external effects such as speed and course are not being altered.”
“Good.”
And that said, there was nothing much more to do but wait.
After about half an hour, Crusher came up to the bridge with her medical bag. “All right,” she said. “Who wants to go first?”
No one moved. Everyone looked at everyone else.
“I,” Picard said, “will be last.”
“Before me,” Crusher said, “yes.”
It remained very quiet. “All right,” Crusher said. “Everyone sit down and get as comfortable as you can. Mr. Worf—”
“I will remain at my post,” said Worf.
“Mr. Worf,” Dr. Crusher said as kindly as possible, “not even Klingons can remain standing while unconscious for prolonged periods. Sit down before you fall down. On the floor, if you want to, or over here by the captain, I don’t care.”
“Doctor,” said Troi suddenly, “I’ll go first, if you don’t mind.”
Crusher stepped down by Troi, looking at her sympathetically, and picked the correct dose vial out of her bag. She leaned over Troi and said, very softly, “Getting noisy, are they?”
Troi gave her a small, unnerved smile. “You don’t know the half of it. But it’s not just that. It’s becoming …” She looked around and down toward the rest of the ship. “So quiet down there …”
The spray injector hissed against Deanna’s arm. She blinked for a moment, then leaned back against her seat, her eyes closed.
Crusher watched her carefully. “Good induction,” she said. “Next?”
“Captain,” Data said suddenly—or rather, it seemed as if the ship said it, in his voice. Everyone looked up in alarm. “Sir, the intellivore is beginning to decelerate.”
“The balloon’s going up!” said Captain Maisel’s voice from Marignano.
“Mr. Worf,” said Picard, “send that message. Then take your shot.”
“Aye, sir,” Worf said. He worked at his panel for a moment.
Picard sat rigid. Your last chance, he thought. Don’t make us do this—
“No response,” Worf said softly.
“Give it a moment, Mr. Worf.”
The moment went by, and another one, and another.
“It’s decelerating hard,” Maisel’s voice said. “Starting to alter course. Toward us.”
“Don’t let it preempt you, Captain!” Picard said. “Carry out your orders! Doctor—”
“Right. Medical teams!” Crusher said. “Finish up, stat. Company’s coming!”
“On my way. Good luck, Enterprise!”
Worf sat down hurriedly beside Picard, across from Riker. Beverly was with him in a second; the spray injector hissed, and he slumped. Then she moved to Riker, then La Forge, and then out of Picard’s sight.
“Mr. Data,” Picard said.
“Captain, the intellivore is turning toward us at warp six.”
His heart was racing. It should not end like this. Oh, don’t let it end like this.
“Carry out your orders, Mr. Data. And take good care of my ship,” Picard said.
From behind, Crusher hit him with the spray injector.
Against the sound of Enterprise’s engine note changing, scaling upward for the first time in many hours, the world went hazy around Jean-Luc Picard. Life went dark … and then stopped being life altogether.
Chapter Nine
ILEEN MAISEL WATCHED with mingled excitement and horror as the planet grew and grew in her viewscreen. Then felt I like some watcher of the skies/when some new planet swims into my ken, the back of her brain misquoted. And this one was swimming a lot too fast for her tastes. Chapman, honey, she thought, if you’d have seen this coming toward you, you would have left town in a hurry.
“Coming in fast, Captain,” McGrady said. “Accelerating, but not too much. It’s going to try to take us into its warpfield.”
“Then start playing around with ours,” she said. Maisel turned to Pickup. “Frances?”
“Right, Captain.”
“Make enough ripples in the field so we’ll be a tough catch.