Relics - Michael Jan Friedman [53]
“Hold position here,” he told Rager. “At least until we can get our bearings.” They needed time to lick their wounds, to regroup. To figure out what in blazes to do next.
Picard turned to his second officer. “Full sensor sweep, Mr. Data. Where are we?”
“We are approximately ninety million kilometers from the star’s photosphere,” came the answer. Data paused, making adjustments in his sensor controls. “Sensors record-“
Suddenly, Rager broke in. “Sir … the inertial motion from the tractor beams is still carrying us forward.”
Riker exchanged glances with the captain as he descended to the conn. Rager was shaking her head.
“The impulse engines are off-line,” she said, “and the maneuvering system’s been shorted out.” She looked up at Riker helplessly. “I can’t stop our forward momentum, sir.”
Figures, the first officer thought. I should have known it was too good to be true. I should have smelled it.
“The inertial motion imparted by the tractor beams is carrying us directly toward the star,” Data added-as calmly as if he were reciting poetry.
But those who heard his pronouncement weren’t nearly so calm about it. Suddenly, they were back on the firing line.
“Come on,” said Scott-rather gently, Geordi thought. Maybe too gently. “Ye can do it. I know ye can.”
He was talking to an open computer panel in the Ops center of the Jenolen, trying to coax the system into working. La Forge scanned the readout on the diagnostic device he’d brought in his equipment case. Hooked up to the console above the opening, it was blinking and flashing in response to Scott’s machinations.
“Dinnae give me a hard time now,” the older man scolded. “Or I’ll just let ye sit there and gather dust for another seventy-five years.”
But despite the banter, Scott didn’t seem to have his heart in it. There was something missing … the fire that had made him such a pain in the neck back in engineering, the brazen self-confidence that had eventually caused Geordi to blow up at him.
It didn’t take an empath to see that he’d been demoralized. And though it wasn’t all his fault, the younger man had certainly had a hand in that.
La Forge had meant to apologize to Scott as soon as they boarded the Jenolen. He really had. But there was something in the man’s demeanor that said he wouldn’t want to hear it… that it actually might have made him feel worse.
So Geordi had refrained from mentioning the incident in the engine room. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try to make amends. He would just bide his time and look for the proper opening.
“Ah,” said Scott. He nodded approvingly. “There we go.” He turned to his companion. “The primary computer database should be on-line now. Give ‘er a try, Commander.”
Geordi made some adjustments and took another look at his readout. A couple of lights flashed on the face of the device.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ve got three access lines to the central core now.” He frowned, wishing he had better news. “But still no data.”
Scott cursed beneath his breath. “I thought I had it that time.” Thinking for a moment, he applied himself to the open panel again. “Here, maybe this’ll do it. Hell, it’d better.” After a minute of remanipulating the circuitry, he sat back on his haunches. “Let ‘er rip.”
Geordi did as he was instructed. There was no improvement.
“Nothing?” said the older man.
“Nothing yet,” La Forge corrected. But the distinction seemed to have been lost on Scott. He shook his head, too irritated to continue.
Softly, he said “Bunch of old, useless garbage …”
“What?” asked Geordi.
Scott sighed. “I said it’s old, Mr. La Forge. The controller can’t handle the interface of your new power converter.”
Scott opened another panel and began tinkering with the inner workings. After a moment, however, he gave up.
“This equipment was designed for a different era,” Scott went on. “Now it’s just a lot of junk.” The older man looked depressed.
He was talking about more than just the equipment, Geordi realized. He was talking about himself.
“I don’t know,” said Geordi. “Looks to me like