Nightshade - Laurell K. Hamilton [71]
‘Yes,” Bebit said.
Geordi took a deep breath and pressed his hand flat against the glowing panel. It was as smooth as all the others, and at first just as cool. The panel began to grow hotter where his skin touched it, but it wasn’t uncomfortable at first. It didn’t grow bright like it had with Bebit. The heat seemed almost hesitant, as if it didn’t know quite what to do with this new taste.
Geordi waited patiently, hand pressed against the warm panel. The surface grew softly warmer, pulsing brighter and brighter. The heat grew slowly until Geordi felt like his hand was being slow roasted. Now, it was starting to hurt. Gritting his teeth, he kept his skin pressed to the panel. If this was the only way to speak to the engines, he could do it.
He had to do it.
‘Geordi, your hand is starting to burn.”
‘I know,” he said. His voice went just a little higher from the pain.
It felt like the machine was peeling back his skin, pouring molten metal into his veins. A scream was pushing at the back of his throat.
The panel was growing brighter, brighter until the angry red glow was almost blinding. Nausea burned up his throat. He had to scream or pass out. Geordi screamed. Something tingled at his hand almost like a tiny mouth. Something pushed against the burning flesh.
Geordi collapsed to his knees, cradling the hand to his chest. He was covered in a sick sweat, his breath coming in quick pants.
‘Geordi.” Dr. Crusher was kneeling beside him. She took his hand in hers, gently but firmly. “Let me see.”
Huge watery blisters were rising on the palm of his hand and along his fingers. The pain hadn’t gone away. It was less, but it was like someone had taken all the blood in his hand and replaced it with molten metal. Now the boiling metal was working up his arm, crawling under his skin toward his shoulder.
‘You’ve got second degree burns, and you’re lucky it’s not worse.” Her voice scolded him.
When Geordi trusted himself to talk without gasping, he asked, “Bebit, did it work? Can I talk to the engines?”
‘I will ask them,” Bebit said. He moved to one of the control panels and waved his hand over it. Colors flowed and chased after his hand, as if the lights could feel his fingers without needing to touch them.
Sharp, cutting pain forced a gasp from Geordi’s lips, and his attention was jerked back to his hand. Dr. Crusher was doing something painful to the burned flesh.
‘I know this hurts, Geordi, but if I give you painkillers now you’ll be drowsy.” Her serious green eyes stared at him. “Let me know if the pain is too much.”
He bit down on the inside of his mouth to keep from yelling. He swallowed hard, nausea burning at the back of his throat. Geordi had never had a burn this bad before. The. pain was incredible for an injury that wasn’t close to life threatening.
His voice sounded shaky, but he found himself saying, “I’ll be fine.”
The expression on Dr. Crusher’s face showed plainly that she didn’t believe him. Geordi didn’t care. Lying about it was the best he could do. He was the engineer. It was going to take both of them to fix this ship, if it could be fixed.
Bebit turned to them, his face still fixed in what passed for a smile.
‘The engines are eager to speak with you, Geordi.”
It was the first time any of the Milgians had used his first name. It sounded strange from someone he had just met, but they were here to work together, to make friends if possible. It was a start, and Bebit was certainly friendlier than Veleck.
‘Thanks, Bebit,” Geordi said, getting to his feet with Crusher’s help. He didn’t feel dizzy, just hurt.
‘I’m all right, Doc, thanks.”
Crusher nodded, and stepped away from him. “I don’t think you can take another burn like that.”
Privately, Geordi agreed, but they were running out of time. “Bebit, will it hurt me to speak with the engines the way it did to be tasted?”
Bebit’s face flared in brilliant red-sad. “I am sorry that you are hurt. It does not hurt me to be tasted. The engines would not purposefully injure you, Geordi.”
‘I believe