Reunion - Michael Jan Friedman [53]
“I get the picture, Captain.” “Good. Picard out.”
Geordi regarded Data, who was sitting on the other side of the chief engineer’s desk. He took a deep breath, let it out. “It’s getting scary,” he told the android.
Data looked apologetic. “Intellectually,” he said, “I recognize the concept. However, as I am myself incapable of fear, I cannot share the feeling.”
Geordi grunted. “No need to be sorry about that. Right now it’s important we keep our heads. No matter who’s getting shot at-or sabotaged in the holodecks.”
He regarded Wesley and Simenon though the transparent wall of his office. They looked as tired as he felt-particularly the Gnalish. With his snappy sense of humor and his alien appearance, it was easy to forget that he was verging on elderly. But a few days’ worth of theoretical headbanging had made him start to look his age-One thing he knew, at least, was that Simenon hadn’t been responsible for the phaser attack.. The Gnalish had been with him during the power dip and every moment thereafter. Unless he had an accomplice…
“Should we not join the others?” Data prompted. “They will be wondering what is keeping us.”
“I was just thinking,” Geordi told him. If there was more than one person involved in the murder attempts … a conspiracy … Simenon could have arranged the holodeck incident comand left the phaser attack to someone else. Maybe the Gnalish was able to get a signal to his co-conspirator that a blackout was in the offing, and that it would be a good time to take another shot at Morgen. Maybe- “Nah,” he said out loud. Why look for a complicated solution when it was most likely a solo operation? It was hard enough to believe one person was nutty enough to want to kill Morgen-much less two. “Nah?” echoed the android.
Geordi smiled. “Just discarding a theory, Data. Noth-+ to be concerned about.” He got up. “Come on. Maybe we can finish those subspace field calculations before I conk out completely.”
Data looked at him in that puzzled sort of way. He was doing that less and less these days-but the engineering chief must have hit on a colloquialism with which the android wasn’t yet familiar. “Conk out,” La Forge repeated. “As in stop due to lack of sleep.” As understanding registered on his face, Data rose too and followed Geordi out of his office.
Picard had never been more greatful for his ready room. Right now he needed time. Time to think. Time to absorb the sights of Cadwallader stretched out on a biobed and the corridors of deck seventeen blackened with phaser fire.
Time to put aside Worf’s insistence on claiming responsibility-which had sounded so much like Pug’s comments twenty years before, after another, equally horrible occurrence…. In a little while he would return to his command chair. He would exude confidence. He would inspire others. But not just now. For a moment at least he would lean back and close his eyes and try to obtain some perspective on the whole bloody mess. Obviously, Cadwallader was no longer a suspect. The captain had read enough Dixon Hill stories to know that a murderer might injure himself to avoid suspicion-but Cad had been hurt too badly for him to believe that. And besides, the phaser had been in someone else’s hands; both Beverly and Morgen had sworn to it. Picard chewed the inside of his cheek, He couldn’t help but feel that he was overlooking something. That there was a clue huddling in some dark corner of his brain, waiting only for him to shed some light on it.
I should know who is doing this, he told himself. I was
their captain, for godsakes. I should have some insight into them. Indeed, how could he ask Worf or Will to find the killer when he couldn’t? Who knew Idun and Pug and the others better than Jean-Luc Picard?
The answer welled up unbidden. Tack. Jack Crusher knew them better than their captain-better even than their own mothers, in some cases.
Yes. Jack would have known who was trying to kill Morgen. People had trusted him with secrets they en-trusted to no one else. After all, how could anyone with that