Possession - J.M. Dillard [57]
“I don’t understand,” Geordi said, staring unabashedly. “What is that? I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Look closer, Commander,” Skel murmured, his voice low, nearly hypnotic. “Know what it is you are seeing.”
Geordi frowned. “I have no idea what that is! It looks like some kind of energy flow, but it’s separate from the rest of your biochemistry.”
As La Forge stared in fascination at the light show going on behind Skel’s eyes, he was startled by the warm touch of the Vulcan’s hands as Skel’s fingertips contacted his neck. As bizarre as that was, it didn’t prepare him for the surge of sensation that traveled down his spine, almost like an electric shock. He grunted in surprise and felt his knees buckle, but Tarmud was behind him with a chair and eased it under him. Skel never lost his grip, and Geordi realized dimly that the Vulcan was making neural connections with his brain, as if to meld with him. But no, that wasn’t possible! Against his will?
“Stop,” La Forge whispered, only marginally in control of his bodily functions. “Don’t. You can’t do this! You’re Vulcan. That’s unethical.”
“To meld with another against his will is unethical,” Skel admitted, even as he brought up his other hand to make the neural connections on La Forge’s face. “However, in a few seconds this will be happening with your complete accord, Mr. La Forge. My mind to your mind.” The Vulcan began intoning the ritual words as the mental connection began.
Outwardly, Geordi’s body showed little reaction, except a slight quivering. Inwardly, he was frantic, fighting for the remnants of his own will, his own personality against the powerful Vulcan mind rapidly overtaking his. So determined was he to resist that he managed to bring one arm up in an attempt to slap his communicator. But before he could touch the badge, Tarmud removed it casually from his uniform, even as Geordi desperately murmured, “La Forge to Security. La Forge to Worf …”
“And now we are one,” Skel insisted, and Geordi could do nothing but agree, mouthing the words with him at the exact same time. He and the Vulcan were one, as the scientist’s brain completely overwhelmed the engineer’s. But still Geordi fought, still he resisted the invasion of his most private organ, his brain.
His heart rate accelerated wildly, his blood pressure climbed, his temperature rose—all to match the Vulcan’s. But Geordi cared only about his consciousness, his unique individuality. Physically, he could not resist the Vulcan, but, mentally, he could remain aware, and keep some small spark of himself alive and conscious beneath the powerful Vulcan presence.
“How is he?” Tarmud asked, sounding actually concerned.
“We have an acceptable tolerance,” the Vulcan said, and Geordi felt his own mouth forming the same words. “But his mind is strong, very resistant.”
“Can he absorb them?” Tarmud wondered. “Through the VISOR?”
Them again. What were they talking about?
“They must go through the optic nerve,” Skel insisted. “To do that, they must be absorbed by the VISOR, then travel to the nerve through its circuitry. They could get trapped or lost through the unusual transmission.”
“He is critical to our success. Once we have the chief engineer …” Tarmud didn’t continue. He didn’t have to.
Suddenly, Geordi understood everything, understood it through knowledge he gleaned through the enforced meld. Skel and Tarmud were infected by the parasites from the artifacts. And now they planned to infect him as well … but the normal mode of transmission was through minor physical contact and eye contact, and Geordi’s blindness and his mechanical VISOR were interfering with their plans. He was sweating now, as their goal of using the TechnoFair to spread their disease became clear to him. They would wipe out the galaxy if they got to the TechnoFair! They would successfully infect almost every space-faring race! He had to find some way to stop them, some way to resist! He had to get