The Children of Hamlin - Carmen Carter [60]
“Which means the entire project would end in disaster for the animals,” concluded Patrisha without any prompting. Evidently, she remembered the disorganized boarding just as clearly as Riker.
“It’s not my place to say so,” demurred Riker, uncertain as to how far he could push her.
“And not mine either.” Patrisha set her mug down onto the table. “These matters are decided by a community consensus.”
And they both knew what the community would decide. At least he had tried, thought Riker as he stood to take his leave. Perhaps the Farmers could be persuaded to allow members of the starship crew to assist in the delivery process. He wondered how many of his own people would be needed to counteract the inefficiency of the colonists.
“Of course, if you don’t ask, they can’t refuse,” said Patrisha, also rising from her chair.
“I beg your pardon?”
She couldn’t meet his eyes, but she made her position clear as they walked to the door. “If the stasis equipment is in place tomorrow morning, it will be too late for anyone to object. And possibly no one will even wonder how it got there.”
“Thank you for the tea, Farmer Patrisha,” said Riker, smiling broadly. “And for the advice.”
“Please don’t mention it,” said Patrisha firmly. “To anyone.”
“I can’t stand another minute of bedrest,” cried Tasha Yar, storming into the doctor’s office. “I could be on the bridge doing something useful. We’re in the middle of a highly classified mission, and my confinement is interfering with essential security duties.” She planted her fists on Crusher’s desk. “Besides, I feel fine.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Tasha,” sighed Beverly Crusher. She leaned back to put a little more distance between herself and the lieutenant. “But I’ve been holding you here until I got this back.” She held up a tape cassette. The lab analysis report had been on her desk when the doctor returned to sickbay. She’d initiated the tests as a routine precaution-but the results had been an unpleasant surprise. “What do you remember about the Choraii ship’s atmosphere?”
“It was just like drowning,” Yar shuddered. “The first few moments were the worst. After that, breathing in wasn’t as bad as I expected. The liquid was actually rather pleasant. It had this smell, almost a taste, of cinnamon.”
That had been the telltale clue. “I had a sample of the scented liquid tested. It’s laced with a drug, a narcotic.”
“Does this mean I have to stay in sickbay?” Yar’s concern was single-minded.
“Yes!” said Crusher emphatically. Persistence was admirable in security chiefs but not in patients. She headed out of the office and the lieutenant trailed after her down the corridor. “I can’t release you until I’m sure your system has metabolized all traces of the drug. Even then, we won’t know what long-term effects you may suffer.”
“But I feel fine!” exclaimed Yar.
“Tasha, you say that even after a game of Parrises Squares with Worf. I’ve watched your body turn black and blue and you won’t admit to a single ache.”
“But that’s not a fair comparison.”
“Enough!” Crusher stopped abruptly and turned to face Tasha. “One more word and I’ll call your own security team to take you back to the ward.”
An anguished cry from the room ahead brought the argument to an abrupt conclusion. Both women raced down the passage and burst into the isolation area. Dr. Crusher took in the scene at once. “Tasha, take care of Troi.” She moved directly to the chamber.
Jason was awake. His whimpering cries mixed with Troi’s sobbing. The doctor retracted the protective cover of the isolation chamber in order to reach him directly. He was crouched in a corner of the unit, rocking back and forth in his agitation. Though his eyes were open, they stared blankly and didn’t seem to register Crusher’s approach.
“Jason.” She reached in and touched him.
The man screamed at the