Myriad Universes 02_ Echoes and Refractions - Keith R. A. DeCandido [191]
If the doctor had noticed her reaction, it didn’t show. “But to answer your question, dear, no, I don’t miss it in the slightest. This new body of mine might not need to eat or drink, but it can. And while the tasting mechanisms took a little while to get a handle on, now I’m hard pressed even to tell the difference. Since the positronic matrix was fully integrated, and my senses recalibrated to my personal standards, I’m sometimes hard pressed even to remember I’m in an artificial body at all.” His smile faded somewhat, as his face took on a wistful expression. “Of course, when I think about…well, when I think about all I’ve lost, it sometimes doesn’t seem worth the bargain.”
Quaice sighed, heavily, and Ro felt sure he was remembering his late wife, who had died just before the upload procedure was made public. Ro had lost loved ones herself, and often in circumstances just as painfully close to aid or rescue. She thought about her father, tortured to death by Cardassians right before her eyes.
Before she realized what she was doing, Ro had reached across the desk and laid her hand atop his. She didn’t speak, and didn’t have to. The look in her eyes was all the empathy that was needed.
They sat like that for a moment, before the doctor shook off his fugue, and brought the smile back to his face. “Drink your tea before it gets cold, Laren. Doctor’s orders.”
The corners of Ro’s mouth tugged up in a slight smile, and she lifted the cup. “Thank you, Doctor, I suspect I needed this.”
The doctor nodded, and while Ro took the first sip, he turned his attention to the padds piled on the corner of the desk, and the data displayed on the computer screen. “Studying up on Romulan ship design, are you?”
Ro swallowed a mouthful of tea, to her surprise feeling already refreshed, and nodded. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to know…just in case, you understand.”
Quaice nodded, his expression knowing. “How much time is left? Six hours?”
Ro glanced at the chronometer. “Five hours, fifty-six minutes.”
The doctor pursed his lips, thoughtfully. “You know, I suppose it would be possible to download the ship’s logs into a probe, and send that back toward Federation space instead. Could be set to transmit a coded message via subspace back to Starfleet as soon as it’s clear of the Neutral Zone.”
Arching an eyebrow, Ro studied the doctor’s expression. “Doctor, are you suggesting that I disobey orders?”
Quaice sipped from his teacup, and smiled. “Oh, dear, no. That would certainly be out of line, wouldn’t it? A ship’s doctor counseling the acting commanding officer to countermand a direct order?” He shook his head, tsking. “No, no, that would be a most grievous breach of protocols, I’d think.” He took another sip of his tea. “Of course, it might not be out of line for a chief medical officer to remind the acting commanding officer that there is sometimes a distinction between following orders, and doing what she knows is right.”
“What I 'know’ is right?”
The doctor nodded. “It doesn’t seem right, does it, leaving the captain and the others-Jaxa, Wesley, Geordi, Isaac-to the tender mercies of the Romulans? To say nothing of the innocent population of Turing.”
The doctor was right. She couldn’t help thinking about Captain Picard and the away team, left with few defenses in the path of the Romulans. She thought about Sito Jaxa. They weren’t really friends-far from it-but she couldn’t help feeling that the things they shared in common, the similarities in background if not in temperament, had created a kind of bond between them. Ro had never had a sister, but she imagined that if she had, she’d have been something like Sito.
“No,” she answered, her jaw set, “it doesn’t. But those are our orders.”
“As I said,” Quaice replied. “There are orders, and then there is doing right. I’m afraid I’ve never been very good at following orders, Laren. Just one, I suppose, that instructs me to