Possession - J.M. Dillard [65]
As the doors behind him whooshed open, he turned instantly and found his android science officer standing at the threshold.
“Permission to enter, sir,” Data requested.
“Granted, Mr. Data. Are you here to visit me or the artifacts?”
“Both, sir. Actually, I asked the computer where you might be found, and it told me you were here. I did want to view the artifacts again, and was calling to get your permission, but when I found out you were here, I thought I should bring some things to your attention.”
“Yes?”
“Captain, I have been going over Skel’s research as I attempt to build a language matrix to interpret the writing on these artifacts. However, there is something in Skel’s work that disturbs me.”
Picard lifted a concerned brow, but Data was a meticulous researcher; it was not unusual for him to pick up flaws in other scientists’ work.
“Skel has been working on these artifacts for over fifty years. Over and over, throughout the course of his research, he has been on the cusp of discovering many things about the artifacts. Yet each time at the last minute he has swerved from the answer and found some other inadequate solution, or has changed the course of his research entirely.”
Picard considered this. “Skel’s work is surely reviewed by other scientists. Why haven’t they noticed this pattern?”
“As far as I can determine, over the years his work has been reviewed less and less. The fewer findings a researcher comes up with, the less seriously do his colleagues regard his work. I suspect that since Skel is a survivor of the disease, his position at the Vulcan Science Academy may be more honorific in nature. Of course, had he actually made any landmark discoveries, then his work would have been scrutinized completely.”
“But as long as he kept deviating from any actual breakthrough, no one looked too closely, eh?” It made sense to Picard. The outbreak on Vulcan had been over eighty years ago, the survivors scattered. And only Skel had chosen to actually work with the artifacts themselves. “Mr. Data, can you hypothesize why Skel would deliberately, or even subconsciously, avoid making the kind of breakthrough discoveries that were the exact thing he seemed to be working toward?”
“No, sir, I cannot. That is why I wished to bring the matter to your attention. I was hoping you would know.”
Picard stared at the artifacts again, thinking of Deanna’s warning, her demands that he hurl them through an airlock and send them into space. “No, my friend, I cannot tell you that. Why someone would sabotage their own life’s work is something I can’t imagine.”
And as Picard continued to stare at the passive artifacts, he began to wonder if a lone Vulcan researcher held more secrets inside him than these simple shelllike objects.
Chapter Seven
WORF HEARD THE FEMININE VOICE calling him despite the fierce battle he was waging—despite the blood pounding in his ears, despite the roars of the warriors surrounding him. Like a berserker he fought, recognizing nothing but the ‘bath’leth in his hands and his enemy before him—Duras, who had slain his mate. He swung his weapon again, nearly connecting. But the soft feminine voice broke through the scenario.
“Lieutenant Worf! This is Ensign Alvarado! Lieutenant Worf!”
With a savage growl, Worf snapped open his eyes and peered for a confused millisecond about his darkened bedchamber. Ensign Alvarado?
“Lieutenant Worf, please answer!” The familiar voice carried an uncharacteristic note of stress.
Worf rubbed his face. He had been dreaming, reliving the battle in which he had killed K’Ehleyr’s murderer—a dream he had not had since Alexander had come to live with him. He groped in the darkness for his communicator. “Worf here.”
“Sorry to wake you, sir,” Alvarado apologized hurriedly. “I know it’s early, but—”
“Computer,” Worf ordered softly, “raise lights.” He squinted at the brightness, and at the realization that it was two hours before