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On his way back to sickbay, McCoy checked on his patients. Not surprisingly, Sulu was still eager to go back on duty. His tricorder readings were almost good enough for McCoy to let him. Almost. One more day of rest, and he could take back command of the ship. Haines was still sleeping, and the other outpatients were doing well.

As soon as he entered sickbay, he called out for Chapel, Odhiambo, and Thomas to come to a staff meeting, hoping that they would be able to suggest a treatment he hadn’t thought of. A long shot, certainly—but occasionally, a long shot hit its target.

“Doctor?” Chapel said as she entered his office. “What is it?”

“Christine, Zainab, I need your help.” He motioned at the two to sit down. “Where’s Nurse Thomas?”

Odhiambo spoke up. “Getting some rest. Cheryl’s been up since yesterday.”

“Ah,” was all McCoy replied to that. He hadn’t noticed that, which showed how oblivious he’d become. “I need your suggestions for treatments you think might work for our coma patients. Something out of the ordinary—unusual, even unorthodox.”

Neither of the two nurses said anything. The doctor imagined he could see their brains shifting into high gear. Odhiambo turned her gaze away from the display case behind him, her face taking on a hopeful expression. “I’m not sure… it hasn’t been done for years…”

“Yes?” said McCoy.

“Well, why don’t we try deep brain stimulation?” Odhiambo looked embarrassed. “I know it’s really ancient … like suggesting osmotic eels…”

“Interesting idea. I don’t know enough—” McCoy interrupted himself. “Let’s see if we can get all the literature on it.”

Odhiambo seemed very interested in the deck. “I’ve done all the research. It had mixed results, but it wouldn’t harm them, and it could help. The procedure is on your computer.”

McCoy reviewed the data. It wasn’t much to go on, but if there was even the slightest chance of success, he’d try it. “Well done, Nurse. This may be just the sort of left-field suggestion we need.”

There was no device designed for this ancient therapy on the Enterprise, but a good doctor knew how to improvise. McCoy took a simple somnetic inducer and within a quarter hour he’d reconfigured it.

The nurses wanted to stay and observe. “I get all twitchy when you stand there behind me, looking over my shoulder,” he said. So he sent them off to look after the patients elsewhere on the deck.

The modified device in hand, McCoy stood at Bouchard’s bed. This was the moment of truth. The small device gave off a low hum, which was all the indication he got that it was working. There was a small but insignificant spike in brain activity. He didn’t want to give up yet and continued moving the device over Bouchard’s head for another minute.

No change.

Damn it!

His frustration was growing. McCoy knew himself well enough to take a break before he had to vent his anger at something. Or somebody.

The bosun’s whistle sounded for a shipwide announcement. “All hands, this is Lieutenant Uhura. The Enterprise is going to be advancing at impulse speed, accelerating gradually. We’ve currently stabilized our position by using the warp engines to project a bubble of normal space. Our goal is to smooth the path before us. We anticipate only minor turbulence, but all hands should continue to be alert, because automated computer systems may fail without warning. Report any and all unusual occurrences to your section chiefs. Uhura out.”

Chapel reported discharging three more patients, leaving only two serious cases—in addition to the espers—for them to care for. Those who had been discharged were able to go back to their stations. McCoy ordered Odhiambo to go around with Abrams, checking on the crew to see if they needed stimulants. He didn’t particularly like the idea but it was necessary if the Enterprise was going to free herself.

Discouraged, McCoy had injected himself with a neural suppressant again, to keep away his visions. But it was only working intermittently. He was still seeing Jocelyn or his father. Worst of all, they were joined by Joanna, who just stood there, staring at