Possession - J.M. Dillard [30]
Picard and Troi met her in her office off the main sickbay area.
“Report, Doctor,” Picard said succinctly.
Crusher nodded. “Nothing has changed since I spoke to you on the bridge. Skel has some minor injuries, which he’s treating right now in quarantine. I can’t find any evidence of a contagious organism either in him or in those containers we’ve beamed aboard. I’ve also compared the scanner readings from the artifacts with the scanner readings sent from Vulcan. As far as the computer is concerned, the artifacts haven’t been tampered with at all.”
“So in your opinion Skel is free from disease, and the alien artifacts have not been breached,” Picard reiterated.
“That is my opinion, Captain.”
Picard straightened his jacket and gave a short sigh—whether of relief that the disease was contained, or of reluctance to possibly expose his crew to it, Crusher could not say. And then Picard glanced at Troi. Crusher followed his gaze, quizzical about Deanna’s purpose here; no doubt her curiosity showed in her expression, for Picard softly explained, “I wanted the counselor to evaluate Skel as well. From the little we know of the disease, it affects the mind, causing delusions, hallucinations, and madness. If Skel is in the beginning stages of the ailment, it’s possible an empath can sense it.”
Crusher nodded again in approval; while she might be convinced that Skel harbored no contagion, it was impossible to be too cautious when dealing with such a horrific disease. She turned to Deanna. “Do you want to meet him now?”
“Of course,” Troi agreed, smiling. “But first, I must tell you, Captain, that I can already sense his center of Vulcan calm. All the strong emotions I felt coming from the Ferengi vessel are gone. He knows he is safe now, that his artifacts are no longer in danger. His mind is blanketed by that unique sense of logic, that warm containment of rational thought.”
As Picard listened to his counselor, the worried crease in his brow slowly eased, then disappeared. “Counselor, if, when you meet the Vulcan, you are as assured of his health and sanity as you are now, I’ll order his release from the quarantine. Doctor, do you agree?”
“Most certainly,” Crusher said. “I see no reason to keep him confined if he’s not ill.”
Picard nodded at his two officers. “Well, let’s welcome our newest guest properly then.”
Troi followed Crusher and Picard into the quarantine area, using the slight distance between them to collect her thoughts. The incident with the Ferengi ship was disturbing to everyone involved, and as tired as she felt, it was hard for her to filter out the rush of emotions of the crew, especially from the people she knew best. The entire day had been an unusual emotional roller-coaster ride, starting with the death of Lieutenant Ito, the pressure of the TechnoFair schedule, and the disturbing incident with Dr. Tarmud. Everyone around her, with the single exception of Data, was still reacting to the difficult events, so much so that it was difficult for her to concentrate on sensing the Vulcan’s mental health.
Picard, in particular, was under a very unique emotional strain. In spite of his cool reserve and professional exterior, he was as prone to the same emotional stresses as anyone else. His physical proximity wasn’t helping her segregate this one Vulcan over all the other minds on the ship.
She focused as she entered the room, pushing all the other minds and feelings to the outer edges of her senses, leaving herself more open to the one individual she had to analyze: Skel, who sat at a small computer terminal, apparently already attempting to contact his colleagues on board. He was an attractive male by Vulcan standards, with a narrow angular face and sharply sculpted cheekbones and chin; most striking to Deanna were his eyes—bright green irises rimmed with black, emeralds encircled by onyx. Their gaze was so striking that Troi would have liked to have studied them, but Skel almost immediately lowered