The Devil's Heart - Carmen Carter [3]
“What’s the special occasion?” Crusher asked, surveying the offerings.
“Nothing beyond the pleasure of your company.”
“Hah!” She spooned a large helping of eggs onto her plate. “If I weren’t so hungry, I’d seriously question your motives.”
“I’m wounded by your suspicion, Doctor.”
Fortunately, her mouth was too full for her to press the issue, even in jest.
Judging from her animated spirits, Beverly seemed to have missed the news working its way through the ship’s grapevine; he would be able to inform her of the diversion himself. Later. He sought safer ground by asking about the progress of her latest theatrical production. Unfortunately, his mind was too preoccupied with their new destination to actually absorb much of her answer.
Picard had started on the French toast when she turned their conversation to the ship’s next port of call.
“There’s a restaurant on Luxor IV,” said Crusher, her blue eyes bright from the recollection, “that serves the best pancakes in the entire Federation. It would make a great place to celebrate—” she caught herself ju st in time, “shore leave.”
“I’m afraid there will be a slight delay, just a day or two, in our arrival to Luxor IV.
We’ve been diverted to a fringe-territory star system on a medical assistance mission.”
Picard assumed a look of nonchalance in the face of Beverly’s sharpened attention. “In fact, the Enterprise was chosen specifically for this mission because of your expertise in handling Bendii’s syndrome.”
“What?” she stopped mid-bite into a scone lathered with butter. “I’m not an expert in Bendii’s syndrome! I’ve only seen one case in my entire medical career.”
“Yes, well, it seems that even one is one more than any other doctor outside of the Vulcan Medical Academy.”
“And Ambassador Sarek wasn’t even my patient,” she said, shaking the scone at him for emphasis. “I didn’t treat him, I just diagnosed the condition.”
“Think of this as an opportunity to expand your medical experience.”
“Thank you, Captain, but I prefer to do that on my own time and not at the expense of my patients.”
Picard poured her a fresh cup of tea with a generous measure of cream. “We’re also the only Federation starship within easy reach of the system. Under the circumstances, there is no other option for you or for your new patient.”
The doctor sighed in reluctant agreement.
“So just who is this Vulcan with Bendii’s syndrome?” She hastily popped the last bit of bread into her mouth, then accepted the cup he offered her.
“A scientist. T’Sara.”
Beverly frowned. “You say that name as if I should know her.”
“Forgive me,” Picard said. “Just because I’ve followed her work for years, I expect others to be aware of her as well.” He nodded in the direction of his bookshelves. “She began her career as a preeminent folklorist renowned for her work in comparative mythology, then moved on to archaeology.”
“Ah, so that’s why she’s out in the back of beyond.”
“Yes,” said the captain. “For the past ten years, T’Sara has been the expedition leader for an archaeological excavation on Atropos.
Her assistant radioed for medical assistance, claiming that her erratic and irrational behavior appeared to be symptomatic of early stage Bendii’s.”
“She was diagnosed by an archaeologist?”
Crusher rolled her eyes in exaggerated despair. “Save me from amateurs.”
“I’m sure Sorren will welcome your professional assessment.”
“I’m sure he’s very welcome.”
Despite her sarcasm, she seemed resigned to the necessity of the mission. Picard smiled with satisfaction as he offered the doctor another scone.
Timing is everything on a starship from the warp drive engines that mesh matter and antimatter for a duration measured