Star Trek_ A Choice of Catastrophes - Michael Schuster [26]
“Inertial dampers failed in most sections on this deck and a few others,” she answered. “Most of the ship was fine. I was in the corridor, coming back from the lab.” McCoy remembered that he’d sent her to give a brain tissue sample to Harrison, the med tech who was working in the medical lab. “When I got back here, Brent had been knocked out.”
At the worst possible time. McCoy could only hope that the situation didn’t deteriorate any further. He didn’t dare think about what would happen if they received additional patients without being able to discharge at least as many.
Haines moaned loudly, startling them both. McCoy quickly checked her vitals, discovering that Chapel had already given her the maximum dose of painkillers. She shouldn’t be feeling any pain—certainly not enough to make her react this way. “It’s a good thing we’re almost done. Christine, I trust you can finish her up?” he said, flipping off the knitter. With the woman’s ribs mended, he had time to update his triage list. He checked off Haines. Next up was Lieutenant Lewis, with a spinal injury.
When he put the slate back onto the cart, he couldn’t help but glance down at his uniform shirt to study the abstract pattern of red, black, and brown that almost resembled a Neoanarchist surrealistic painting. He’d forgotten to change into his medical smock. When working in sickbay, he much preferred the short-sleeved surgical uniform made of nonabsorbent nanoweave, but he hadn’t worn it today, expecting to be doing nothing more than counting supplies. Eager to feel clean again, he hurried into his office, pulled his soiled shirt off, and began looking for his surgical one.
Can you actually handle surgery today? Sure, you can seal up a broken bone, so what? Even Nurse Chapel can do that. Hell, even Leslie. But what about those two men in comas, almost dying?
Pushing the niggling voice aside, he headed back into sickbay. It was time to get to work.
As he worked on Lewis’s spine, Leslie returned with a couple of other security officers, bearing the injured Saurian and the female officer suffering from internal bleeding. McCoy grabbed Leslie and asked him to take his fellows and continue to bring people in from the other areas of the ship. With his medical training, he’d be a good man to have out there as the sickbay staff worked its hardest.
McCoy just hoped it would be enough.
Chekov stared at the semicircular surface set into the cavern all. They’d seen many of them on the buildings above, but so far, they’d been unable to find a way to open them. The problem was that they weren’t made of any ordinary metal.
“The molecular bonds have been enhanced, sir—a phaser cannot break them,” he said to Kirk. “Some kind of hyperbonded matter.”
The captain had been pacing the periphery of the chamber, as if that would somehow help find Yüksel, and had just made his way back to Chekov’s position. “What about a phaser rifle?” asked Kirk.
Chekov shook his head. “Even its power would be insufficient.” He looked at the readings on his tricorder, which showed the energy level of the bonds. The material was very cleverly made. “With some tinkering, I might be able to disrupt the bonds somehow—”
“Try it, Mister Chekov.” Kirk walked off to talk to Seven Deers, who was trying to open the doors mechanically. Chekov looked at the tricorder display screen and wondered if he would ever see the botanist again. He’d tossed off the idea somewhat unthinkingly, just to have something to say so the captain wouldn’t think he’d lost Yüksel and couldn’t help get him back. It was possible to loosen the molecular bonds, but all the ways he could think of required resources from the Enterprise.
Footsteps signaled that Giotto had walked over to join Chekov. “What about a phaser on overload?” the security chief asked. “Would that have the power?”