Relics - Michael Jan Friedman [49]
La Forge smiled. “I wouldn’t do that, sir. But just why is it so important to you that I accompany Captain Scott? If you’d like me to apologize for blowing up before, I’d be more than glad to do that-up here. I’ve still got quite a few analyses to run, and Bartel is more than qualified to…”
Picard held up his hand for silence … and the engineer complied. For a second, he seemed to gather his thoughts … to find a more promising tack.
“Geordi,” he began, “one of the most important things in a man’s life is the need to feel useful. Captain Scott is a Starfleet officer, even after all these years. I would like him to feel useful once again, if that is at all possible.”
Ah. Finally, Geordi understood what the captain was saying. It was evident in the set of his jaw … in the cast of his eyes.
He was speaking not only for Scott, but for himself. For Geordi. For everyone who served on starships. One day, he was saying, the time would come when they too would be considered yesterday’s news. And if they were to be treated with dignity then, they would have to set the best example they could in the here and now.
Geordi smiled reassuringly. “I’ll go with him, Captain.”
Picard nodded approvingly. “Thank you, Mr. La Forge. Unless there is anything else, you are dismissed.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Geordi. As he left the room, he was already figuring out the best way to tender his apology to Captain Scott.
Will Riker happened to be standing beside Worf at Tactical when Geordi emerged from the captain’s ready room. The chief engineer looked as if he’d been kept after school, and for good reason.
Riker knew better than to ask what their conference had been about. If it was important for him to be told, Picard would have done so. And since he hadn’t…
With a nod, Geordi crossed to the turbolift and entered it. The doors closed.
Worf’s only response was something between a grunt and a snarl. But then, as the first officer was well aware, that sound covered a broad range of commentary.
“My thoughts exactly,” Riker told him. And then, having satisfied himself that the Klingon’s analyses were proceeding as they should be, he descended to the command center and deposited himself in his customary place.
“Commander Riker?” Mr. Data, who was stationed at Ops this shift, had turned in his seat to address him.
“Yes, Data?” The first officer leaned forward. “Something interesting?”
“I can only speak for myself,” the android told him, “but I find it very interesting. I believe I have found something on the surface of the sphere that could be a communications device.”
That got Riker out of his seat again. As he moved to Data’s side, he began to scan the Ops console.
“There is a small antenna approximately five hundred thousand kilometers south of our present position,” the android explained. “It is emitting low-intensity subspace signals that suggest it may be active.”
“Can we open a channel?” asked the first officer.
Data shook his head. “Not from our present orbit, Commander. The array is currently pointed away from us.”
Riker turned to Rager, who was manning the conn. “Have you got the coordinates of the array in question, Ensign?”
Rager worked at her control board for a second or two. “Aye, sir,” she reported at last. “I’ve got them.”
“Good,” said the first officer. “Prepare to take us to a position above these coordinates.”
As the ensign got to work again, Riker asked himself if this wouldn’t be a good time to let the captain know what they were doing. He answered himself in the affirmative.
“Riker to Captain Picard,” he intoned.
The reply was almost instantaneous. “Yes, Number One?”
“Sir, we’ve found what looks to be a communications array on the outside of the sphere. I thought you’d want to know.”
A pause. “I’ll be right out,” the captain told him.
When Geordi got to the transporter room, there was nobody there but O’Brien. Crossing to the platform, the engineer plunked down the equipment case he’d been carrying and shrugged.
“Guess I