Pantheon - Michael Jan Friedman [130]
Crusher’s brow creased. “You think there was poison on the blade?”
Idun nodded. “Not enough, perhaps, to do the job as quickly as Greyhorse desired. But in the long run, enough to kill him.”
Crusher glanced at her patient—and recognized the possibility that Asmund was right. “I don’t suppose you know which poison?”
Idun shook her head. Ku’thei was widely used, but hardly the only option. Klingons used a number of untraceable toxins.
Nor could the doctor administer the antidote for each and every one—not all at once, or their interaction would prove as fatal as the poison itself. And Ben Zoma didn’t have that much time.
Both she and Crusher knew all this. But how could they narrow it down?
“Idun,” the doctor said, “Greyhorse never treated a Klingon in his life. Much of his knowledge of Klingon medicine must have come from Gerda.”
So the question became: What poison would Gerda have used? Given what they’d seen the night of Lenoch’s death, there could be only one answer: the poison their father had tasted. But what was it?
Idun bit her lip. She tried to picture her father again, dabbing his fingers in their uncle’s wound. Lifting the fingers to his mouth. He’d said a word—hadn’t he? A single word.
“Choc’pa,” she told Crusher. “Try the antidote for choc’pa.”
Twenty
The stars outside were back to normal once again.
Guinan was surveying the newly restored Ten-Forward lounge, such as it was, when the doors to the place opened and revealed Pug Joseph. As he had the last time she saw him, he hesitated just inside the entrance.
This time, however, he wasn’t drunk. She noticed that right away. But he looked off-balance, confused, as if he’d been staring at the sun for too long.
When he saw her standing behind the bar, he didn’t get angry. He didn’t turn tail, either. He walked right up to the bar and confronted her.
“Nice to see you again,” she told him.
“Sure it is.” For a while, he just stood there looking at her. Looking through her, she thought. Then he spoke up: “Listen, you were right. I’ve got a problem.”
Guinan was genuinely surprised. She hadn’t expected him to come around so quickly.
He smiled, though there was no humor in it. “You didn’t expect me to say that, did you?”
She had to be honest. “Frankly, no, I didn’t. What made you change your mind?”
He wet his lips. “A lot of things,” Joseph said. “My captain was attacked—nearly fatally. And a good friend—make that two good friends—were seriously injured. All by a man I thought I knew.” He breathed in once, out once. “I didn’t know anything! I didn’t know where my captain—my responsibility—was, or where he was going. I couldn’t see the hurt that Greyhorse was carrying inside him, the hurt that twisted and changed him. I was too busy getting soused for anything else.”
Guinan nodded. So that was it. Well, it wasn’t the kind of therapy she’d have wished for, but it seemed to have done the trick. Admitting that a problem existed was half the battle.
But now that he had made the admission, there was no need for him to torture himself. “This isn’t the Lexington,” she reminded him as gently as possible. “You’re not in charge of security on this ship.”
“Doesn’t matter,” replied Joseph. “At the least, Ben Zoma was my captain. My responsibility.” He looked down at the bar. “The last thing I wanted was to be the cause of someone else’s death.”
His emphasis on “else’s” sent a chill up her spine. “You mean this happened before?” she asked softly.
“That’s right. A long time ago.” He raised his head until their eyes met. His were like black holes. “That’s what I carry around inside of me. That’s the reason I drink the way I do. Because I killed somebody, somebody who depended on me.” A pause, as he wrestled silently with his demons. “You don’t know what that’s like. No one does—except ol’Pug.” His face twisted. “So what do I do? What does anyone do when he has that hanging around his neck?”
Guinan’s heart went out to him. She’d been right about this one, about his self-hatred. But like Troi, she’d thought it was rooted in disappointment—with his career,