Pantheon - Michael Jan Friedman [207]
But then, he told himself, if they didn’t subject Santana to the same tests as the other Magnians on board, she might catch on to their suspicions about her. And Commander Picard didn’t want that.
Besides, there were precautions in place. For one thing, Greyhorse was introducing his synthetic neurotransmitter gradually, bit by tiny bit. For another, Joseph and a half dozen of his fellow security officers were on hand in case anything went awry.
Santana stole a glance at him. She knew he was here, of course. And she knew also that he still didn’t trust her, no matter what she had done in the most recent battle.
It made him the perfect choice to keep an eye on her. After all, Joseph’s feelings of mistrust had begun with the ambush the woman had led them to, not the discoveries of sabotage. So even if she got close enough to reach into his mind, he wouldn’t be giving anything away.
Eventually, he reflected, she would slip up. She would try to rig another command junction when she thought no one was looking. And when she did, he would be there to catch her.
That is, if anyone still could.
As Gilaad Ben Zoma entered the Stargazer’s spare and economical engineering section, he saw the unmistakable figure of Jomar standing in front of a sleek, black diagnostic console.
The Kelvan had spent much of the last two days at the console, checking and rechecking for flaws in his vidrion injectors. Ben Zoma knew that because he had monitored Jomar’s computer activities from security.
The Kelvan hadn’t given even a hint that he meant to damage anything or obstruct any aspect of the ship’s operations. He had simply run the same program, over and over, as if he were searching for something.
Ben Zoma wanted to know what it was. And since he couldn’t ask that question of his computer screen, he had come down to engineering to get an answer from the horse’s mouth.
Taking up a position at the console to Jomar’s right, the human went through the motions of initiating a diagnostic of his own. Then he turned to the Kelvan, as if he were just trying to be friendly.
“It must be hard,” he said.
Jomar glanced back at him. “I beg your pardon?”
Ben Zoma smiled. “You know…having made your contribution already. All you can do is mark time until we reach the depot.”
The Kelvan returned his attention to his screen. “Inactivity is not as distasteful to my species as it is to yours—so even if I were marking time, it would not be a problem. However, I am not merely keeping myself busy. I am seeking the source of the shield lapse we suffered during our most recent encounter with the Nuyyad.”
“That’s right,” said Ben Zoma. “There was a lapse, wasn’t there?”
Jomar turned to him again and scrutinized him with his unblinking, pale-blue eyes. “Let us be honest with each other, shall we?”
“What do you mean?”
“Despite your casual reference to the recent shield failure,” the Kelvan continued, “I believe it was of grave concern to you and Commander Picard. The fact that you have not asked my advice in the matter, nor made any public efforts to keep it from happening again, tells me that you may suspect me of having caused it.”
Ben Zoma laughed. “You’ve got quite an imagination.”
“Do I?” asked Jomar. “Because I also imagine that the only reason you came to engineering is to see if I will say something incriminating. If that is the case, let me put your mind to rest—I did not tamper with your shields. Your time would be better spent spying on Serenity Santana and her fellow colonists. If there was indeed an incident of tampering, it is they you should hold accountable.”
“Do you have any proof that they did anything?” asked Ben Zoma.
“Gathering proof is not my job,” said Jomar. “It is yours.” Then he went back to his diagnostic program.
The officer looked at the Kelvan a moment longer. Then he turned back to his own console, where he continued to run a diagnostic of his own.
Well, he thought, that could have gone better.
Carter Greyhorse