Pantheon - Michael Jan Friedman [67]
“But in this case,” said La Forge, “I think I’ll make an exception.”
Standing in the corridor outside Morgen’s door, Crusher was starting to become a little concerned. After all, she’d been there for more than a minute, waiting to give the Daa’Vit his routine follow-up exam, and there had been no response to her presence. Of course, Morgen could have been taking a nap—but it seemed unlikely with all that was going on.
Finally, she tapped her communicator. “Computer—where is Captain Morgen?”
The reply was nearly instantaneous. “Captain Morgen is in the forward lounge on deck seventeen.”
“Thank you,” the doctor said out loud. As she headed for the turbolift, she thumped herself on the head.
Dumb, Beverly. You should have checked out Morgen’s whereabouts before you came all this way.
Nor could she just call him via the intercom system. If someone were with the Daa’Vit, they’d wonder why the ship’s doctor wanted to see him. No, she would have to seek him out in person—and drag him back to his apartment only if he were alone.
The turbolift doors opened at Crusher’s approach. She stepped inside.
“Deck seventeen,” she instructed. “Forward lounge.”
The lift’s movement was imperceptible except for a subtle hum. And since she hadn’t been more than a couple of decks away, she arrived in a matter of seconds.
As she exited, she made a left and followed the curve of the corridor. The lounge appeared on her right, its doors open—not uncommon, if there was nothing going on inside that would disturb others on the ship.
Voices. One was Morgen’s—subdued yet resonant. The other was female, human. Not Troi’s, or she would have recognized it. Nor Asmund’s, unless things had changed drastically since dinner the other night.
Cadwallader’s, she decided. And as she entered the lounge, she saw that she’d guessed correctly. Ben Zoma’s Number Two was sitting across a small table from the Daa’Vit, engaging him in a game of sharash’di.
At Crusher’s arrival, they both looked up. Cadwallader smiled. “Greetings, Doctor. Fancy meeting you here.”
Beverly smiled back. “I saw the doors open and I couldn’t resist peeking inside.” She indicated the game board. “Sharash’di, eh?”
Morgen nodded. “Commander Cadwallader thought it was high time I left that stuffy apartment you’ve given me—and spent some time in this stuffy lounge.”
The doctor wondered about that. Had Cadwallader lured the Daa’Vit in here for something other than a simple diversion?
Certainly, the woman didn’t look like the type to go around assassinating people. But the captain hadn’t omitted anyone when he’d ordered his former officers watched—and he knew them better than she did.
Maybe I should stick around, she told herself. For a while anyway, just in case—
Abruptly, they heard Picard’s voice addressing them over the intercom. All three of them looked up.
“As you know by now,” said the captain, “we are caught in a subspace phenomenon. We will be attempting to escape that phenomenon in a few moments. Once again, I must ask that all decks be secured.”
Well, Crusher mused, so much for whether I should stay or go. Picard’s announcement had taken that decision out of her hands.
Cadwallader gestured to a chair. “Have a seat, Doctor. After I thrash Captain Morgen, you can have a whack.”
Picard sat back in his command chair. In front of him, Wesley and Data had once more taken up their positions at the forward stations. And as before, Geordi was off to the side at the engineering console.
But with Riker and Troi on the bridge, Simenon was content to take the proverbial backseat. He now stood next to Worf at tactical, no doubt scrutinizing the efficiency with which the Klingon did his job.
“Mr. Crusher,” said the captain, “reverse engines.”
Wesley carried out the order. Abruptly, the ship seemed to shoot forward again. The light streaks on the viewscreen resumed their earlier velocity.
“Engines reversed, sir,” said the ensign. “We are now proceeding forward at warp four—or at least that’s our engine speed.” He glanced at another monitor. “Our actual speed is warp nine