The Devil's Heart - Carmen Carter [65]
Troi nodded, but made no reply.
“In the meantime, it makes a dandy conversation piece,” said Riker with a grin. No one laughed.
“Although, I’ve noticed that it must be lighter than it looks. You don’t seem to mind its weight.”
This was a rather blatant ploy for a chance to at least touch the stone; except for Data, the captain was the only one who had held the Heart.
“I hadn’t given it much thought,” said Picard.
He did not proffer the stone to his curious first officer, and Riker wondered why Picard had bothered to bring the stone with him onto the bridge.
To Riker’s relief, the next long silence finally signaled the death of this particular topic of conversation; but his trepidation returned when he saw Data swivel around in order to face the command center.
“Captain, I have completely reassembled and recalibrated all testing units in my laboratory, and I have certified that they are in excellent working order. If I could continue my examination of the Heart, we could provide the Academy scientists with valuable baseline information as to its nature.”
“That’s a very good point, Mr. Data.”
“Thank you, Captain.” The android swung aside the Ops console so that he could stand.
“Don’t bother with it now,” said Picard.
“I’ll deliver the Heart to the lab at the end of your duty shift.”
Data sank back down into his chair.
“Until then,” continued the captain, “I have some historical research of my own to attend to.
Number One, the bridge is yours.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Riker was actually relieved by Picard’s swift departure from the bridge to his ready room. This was a new feeling, and not one that the first officer welcomed.
“He’s very tired, Will,” said Deanna before he could even ask her to comment on the captain’s state of mind. “I sense he hasn’t been sleeping very well lately, and that makes him rather edgy.”
“The Borg nightmares again?”
Troi paused, then shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. He’s not so … shaken. Just tired and somewhat distracted.”
“Perhaps we should ask our chief medical officer to prescribe some warm milk at bedtime.”
“Warm milk?” asked Data.
Riker hated having to explain his quips to the android since they always sounded so lame after a clinical analysis. “That was just a joking reference to an old remedy for insomnia.”
“Ah. Then I might make a similar reference to using a wrench to regain possession of the Heart from the captain.” The android blinked in surprise when Riker laughed out loud. “Was that also funny?” he asked hopefully.
“Yes, it was, Data,” said Riker, but his grin faded when he saw the look of concern on Troi’s face. Apparently the ship’s counselor was not so amused.
As the chief medical officer of the Enterprise, Beverly Crusher had more than a passing acquaintance with the methods the crew used to deal with stress. Some of the more exuberant attempts at tension-relief resulted in a visit to sickbay. Miles O’Brien, for instance, was fond of white-water rafting, and Deanna Troi tended to eat large quantities of chocolate; thus the former occasionally needed muscle and bone regeneration, and the latter a stern reminder on the importance of a balanced diet.
Crusher was more inclined to moderation and indulged herself by dancing in the holodeck with a succession of computer-generated partners. However, when she was feeling especially despondent, the doctor ended up in sickbay as well.
“Are you sure you don’t mind updating these equipment inventories, Dr. Crusher?” asked the nurse as he held out his data padd.
Lewis was a relatively new staff member, one who hadn’t learned to take quick advantage of these rare moods.
“I don’t mind at all.” Crusher whisked the padd away from the man before he could change his mind. Two other nurses and a doctor had already cheerfully provided her with a full day’s worth of mind-numbing busywork projects, the kind she usually avoided like the plague or foisted off on some hapless resident who had run out of patients.
“Well, I really appreciate this …” Despite his words, Lewis