The Devil's Heart - Carmen Carter [6]
As he crossed the deck of the circular bridge, the captain noted which of his crew were working at the back duty stations. Deanna Troi and Beverly Crusher were already seated in the central command area behind the helm; Ensign Ro and Data were operating the forward stations. All accounted for, all as it should be, but he tried never to take that for granted.
“Still no response from the archaeological camp,” said Worf from the aft deck.
“Continue hailing, Lieutenant,” said Picard as he settled himself down into the captain’s chair between Riker and the ship’s counselor. “Status, Mr. Data?”
“Estimated arrival at Atropos in eleven minutes, thirty-two seconds.”
“Steady as she goes, Helm.” Picard fixed his eyes on the main viewscreen, studying a single pinpoint of starlight and the space that surrounded it. A most unremarkable sight, he concluded. At the beginning of time, when countless cosmic wonders had been sown throughout the galaxy, this area had been overlooked. In fact, to the best of his knowledge, the Federation’s claim to this sector had been made solely to facilitate traffic through the territory; until T’Sara’s expedition, no one had bothered to linger.
Troi spoke quietly, easing her way into his thoughts. “Beverly tells me you’ve followed T’Sara’s scholarship for years. You must be looking forward to meeting her in person.”
“Yes … very much so.” He could never tell when the counselor used her empathic abilities to read him or simply judged his moods by subtle physical cues that he was unable to repress. Either way, Troi always caught him when he was brooding, so there was no point in trying to disguise his one misgiving about this encounter.
“Yet, on the other hand, I do not relish watching another brilliant mind disintegrate from illness.”
“Perhaps T’Sara will be spared Sarek’s fate,” said Crusher. “Medical research has advanced considerably in the last year; treatment, even a cure, may be developed in time to help her. That’s assuming the diagnosis is correct; after all, I haven’t confirmed anything yet.”
“Well,” said Riker. “If she does have Bendii’s, we’d better warn Guinan to put away the breakables in Ten-Forward.”
Crusher shook her head. “Psychic disturbances like the ones broadcast by Ambassador Sarek don’t occur until a more advanced stage of …” She turned to the captain. “I only know that because I’ve been studying the medical literature on the syndrome. Any doctor in the Fleet could read a casebook file and do what I’m doing.”
Just as Picard had feared, Beverly must be suffering the brunt of the crew’s frustration; a speedy conclusion to this diversion would improve tempers all around. “Lieutenant Worf, have you established contact with the Vulcans yet?”
“Channels are open, but they are not answering our hail.”
“You can’t trust a bunch of academics to operate a simple subspace radio,” said Riker with a heartiness that seemed a little forced.
“And archaeologists are the worst offenders,” added Picard. He caught himself rapidly tapping one finger on his armrest and stilled the impatient motion.
“Long-range sensor scan complete, Captain.” Data looked up from his console to confirm the transfer of incoming data to the main viewscreen, then nodded with satisfaction at the image of a marbled orb that appeared there.
“Increasing magnification.”
Picard leaned forward to study the surface features that were slowly coming into focus; gaps in the dusky-red cloud cover revealed mountains, valleys, several large canyons, scattered seas. “Data, are we close enough to scan for life-forms?”
“Accuracy may be somewhat compromised by the distance, but it is technically within range.” After a few minutes of manipulating the console controls, the android turned around to face the captain. “Sensors detect no life-signs.”
Riker shifted uneasily in his chair. “Try another pass, Lieutenant.”
“Scanning the campsite … expanding the search area.” At the sound of a soft beep, Data studied the console output. “Confirmed; there are no discernible life-signs on the surface.”
The captain