Possession - J.M. Dillard [96]
“The optic nerve,” Kyla said excitedly. “We could hear what you were saying about it. It makes sense.” She turned toward Data. “Does Commander La Forge have intact optic nerves?”
Data nodded. “His VISOR has contact points at his temples that allow its input to travel to his optic nerves and thence to his brain.”
“So we need a VISOR,” Kyla told the android, with such contagious excitement that Troi smiled. “We can make a connection between it and your optic nerves. We already know the entities can’t infect you. Once you draw the entities in, we can rig something up to contain them in this.” She held out the box.
“My optic nerves are more mechanical than organic,” Data informed her. “And I do not have the emotional pull to draw the entities to me. I do not believe my using the VISOR in that manner will be of any help to us.”
Kyla frowned, worrying at the problem. Deanna could feel her fierce determination to solve it. “Well, it’s obvious then. We need organic optic nerves—and I know where we can find some: Dr. Tarmud’s quarters.”
Troi drew in a hesitant breath, causing Dannelke to glance up at her. “What is it, Counselor?”
“Tarmud,” Deanna admitted. “If we go there, we must be careful. He’s one of the Possessed …”
In the Vulcan Skel’s quarters, George Tarmud lovingly stroked the device he and Skel had developed; everything he was, everything he knew, had gone into its creation. The scientist who had once lived to conquer death for all mankind had finally done so—though not in the way he’d once dreamed. His plans for improving his android, for working with Skel and Dannelke on personal shields—none of that mattered anymore. He and Skel together had taken some of the most powerfully advanced frequency-modulation equipment from the Enterprise and created a device that would enable the entities to evolve even further. They’d changed enormously from the rather simple creatures that had caused death and devastation on the planet Vulcan eighty years ago. And their contact with the people of Vulcan had taught them the necessity of control.
With the effects of this new device, the entities would evolve enough to control their hosts completely, negating the bursts of uncontrolled violence and feeding frenzies. Instead, they would be able to use the hosts’ knowledge and experiences to outwit unconquered peoples. They could overwhelm the planet of Betazed, taking its powerful empaths into a protracted slavery that would be solely for the entities’ benefit. They would eventually completely absorb the Federation, classifying some of its people as subjects to feed from and others as subjects to control. Their domination of these intelligent organic life-forms would be complete.
They could have developed the machine faster had Dannelke joined them—a fact Tarmud regretted. Dannelke could have given it a refinement, an intricate elegance, but she’d vanished immediately after the shutdown, and, as yet, none of the recruited had been able to find her. A pity …
Tarmud shivered and yawned as a surge of fatigue washed over him. The entities had not allowed his host body to sleep since it had been possessed, and he could not remember when they’d last permitted it physical sustenance. Insignificant in the grand scheme of things—yet this body was valuable. To avoid collapse, he decided, he would go to his quarters. There were tools he needed, some computer chips he wanted to try fitting into the device to improve its efficiency. He’d allow the body to sleep for an hour or so while he was there. He carried a matching chip with him to be sure he obtained the right ones.
The trip from Skel’s guest quarters to Tarmud’s was brief, the corridors deserted. Once more the voice of the android Data rang through the air, warning the uninfected crew members to hide, secure themselves, be armed. Tarmud chuckled to himself: It was all so useless. Over forty percent of the crew was infected now, and, despite