Relics - Michael Jan Friedman [23]
Geordi whistled softly. “It’s a miracle the ship’s superstructure survived a crash like that.”
Scott’s face clouded over. “It nearly didn’t. Franklin and I were the only ones to survive the crash.”
Geordi grunted, trying to imagine the man’s feelings when he realized he was still alive-but that so many others had perished.
Swallowing, he asked another question. “What made you think of using the transporter’s pattern buffer to stay alive?”
Scott shook his head. “Ye know what they say about necessity being the mother of invention. We didnae have enough supplies to wait for a rescue … so I had to think of something.”
“But locking it into a diagnostic cycle to keep the signal from degrading… and cross-connecting the phase inducers to provide a regenerative power source…” Geordi couldn’t have concealed his admiration if he’d wanted to. “It’s brilliant.”
Scott sighed. “I’m afraid it was only fifty percent brilliant, lad. Ensign Franklin deserved better.”
Noting the man’s sadness, Geordi changed the subject-to something Scott could get excited about “I think you’re going to like the twenty-fourth century, Captain Scott. We’ve made some pretty amazing advances in the last eighty years.”
It worked. Scott seemed to perk up a bit as they entered the turbolift. Looking around the compartment, he nodded approvingly.
“Aye. From what I can see, ye’ve got a fine ship here, Mr. La Forge. A real beauty. In fact, I must admit to being a mite overwhelmed.”
Geordi chuckled. “Wait until you see the holodeck!”
As the doors closed, Scott gave him a look of mingled surprise and curiosity. “The holodeck?” he wondered.
Chapter Four
“SO WHAT DO YE THINK, LASS?” asked Scott.
Beverly Crusher, chief medical officer of the Starship Enterprise, looked down at her latest patient and shook her head.
“You’re a treasure, Captain Scott. A real find. The only person ever to spend seventy-five years cycling around in a transporter and live to tell of it. Now hold still, will you?”
Sitting on a biobed in sickbay, Scott winced as the doctor examined his injured limb. “Easy for you to say,” he told her. “Your arm hasn’t been broken for the last seventy-five years. Ouch.”
Chuckling at his quip, Crusher picked up her medical tricorder and ran it over Scott’s arm-just as Geordi entered sickbay. She raised her head just long enough to smile at him and go back to her business.
“Hi, Doc,” said the chief engineer. “Hi, Captain Scott. See? I told you I’d be right back.”
“So ye did,” agreed Scott.
The doctor consulted her readouts. “You’ve got a hairline fracture of the humerus,” she said. Shutting off the device, she added “It’ll ache for a few days, but after that it should be fine.”
“Thank you,” said Scott, smiling appreciatively. In his day, Crusher decided, he must have been something of a ladies’ man. Even now, he had a disarming twinkle in his eye-one that might turn a woman’s head if she wasn’t careful.
As if to confirm her suspicions, Scott turned to Geordi and declared “Well, I’ll say this for your Enterprise. The doctors are a fair sight prettier than what I was used to.”
The remark was a little too obvious for Crusher’s taste. Still and all, she couldn’t help but smile. “Flattery will get you nowhere,” she lied, depositing the tricorder into one of the pockets in her lab coat.
“I apologize if I was out of line,” said Scott-suddenly a good deal more earnest. “But I cannae help it. A beautiful woman will loosen my tongue faster than a whole case of Saurian brandy.”
That was no line, the doctor realized. That was a confession.
Before she could reply, however, the sickbay doors opened to admit another visitor. This time, it was the man in charge of the Enterprise.
“Captain Scott,” said Geordi, as dutiful as ever, “this is Captain