The Brave and the Bold Book Two - Keith R. A. DeCandido [82]
“How are you able to resist now?” Worf asked.
“I am—not sure. Possibly because my brain chemistry has—changed since I encountered the first artifact—when I died and was reborn on the Genesis Planet.”
“Of course,” Worf said matter-of-factly, as if people talked about being resurrected every day. B’Oraq looked at both of them as if they were insane.
McKenna saw the look, and gave the doctor a smile. “Trust me, this sort of thing is normal for those two,” she said in a whisper. “Read any six random captain’s logs for any ship named Enterprise, and you’ll see what I mean.”
“Malkus sent me,” Spock continued, “to place you back in the shuttle and—reactivate the forcefield. I must—return soon or he will notice—that I have taken too long—or that his control is not what it should be.”
Falce started fidgeting. “So why don’t you just deactivate the forcefield?”
“Great idea, Matt,” McKenna said. “Then we can get zapped again.”
“The ensign—is correct. I had hoped that another—possibility might present itself.”
Spock, B’Oraq noticed, was giving Worf what seemed to be a very significant look. Is this some kind of diplomat code or something? she thought.
Then she recalled her studies of Vulcan anatomy—particularly as related to the Vulcan brain. “You’re suggesting a mind-meld, aren’t you?”
“I am—not, no,” Spock said. “However, it would—be a useful tool for allowing two of us to resist—Malkus’s control.”
Worf stepped forward. “I will volunteer.”
“I don’t like this, Mr. Ambassador,” Falce said. “I’m not so sure he should be trusted.”
“Perhaps,” Worf said. “But I would be the most—logical choice. I was the first to recover from the psionic attack earlier, and I have felt no ill effects from it. You are still obviously in pain, as are Dr. B’Oraq and Ensign McKenna—and G’joth is still unconscious.”
B’Oraq hadn’t realized that her headache was so bad that the ambassador could see it in her face. “I agree with Ambassador Worf,” she said. “His quick recovery makes him the best choice. It means he’s more likely to be able to retain his own self, and not be lost in the melding.”
Spock regarded B’Oraq. “You are—familiar with the mind-meld?”
She smiled. “I studied medicine at Starfleet Academy. It included a primer on the medicinal applications of psionics, particularly as related to Vulcans, Betazoids, and other telepathic races.”
“Indeed. We are—fortunate, then, that you are here to monitor.”
“I’m not sure how much I can monitor without equipment,” B’Oraq said ruefully, “but I will try my best.”
The Vulcan ambassador removed a control from the folds of his robes and pressed a button on it. The forcefield fell and he stepped inside the shuttle. “We must—we must hurry. I can feel myself beginning to lose control once again. Malkus has—spread himself fairly thin, which has—aided in my ability to resist. But that ability—may weaken without the extra support—from Mr. Worf’s mind.”
Turning to Worf, B’Oraq put a hand on his arm. “Have you ever experienced a mind-meld before?”
“No.”
“It can be a very—overwhelming experience. Try to focus on one particular thing—a favorite song, a face, an image, anything—before you start. Use that as a mental anchor.”
Worf nodded. “I understand.”
I hope so, she thought.
“Are you—are you ready?” Spock asked.
B’Oraq took a look at the older ambassador and thought that question applied more to him. He looked horrible; the strain of trying to resist this Malkus person’s control was obviously wearing on him. She hoped that this worked, because if it didn’t, Spock would be in Malkus’s thrall again, and they’d be back stuck in the shuttle with no way out. Or he might just decide we’re better off dead….
In answer to Spock’s query, Worf simply said, “Yes.”
I don’t like this, B’Oraq thought.