The Devil's Heart - Carmen Carter [88]
Certain that the ensign had unburdened himself of the worst of his grievances against his former true love, the counselor gently urged him to return to his cabin.
“You’ll feel better in the morning,” she assured him as they walked out of her office. She could tell that he didn’t believe her, but then lovesick young men never did.
As Troi strolled down the quiet corridors of the ship, she admitted to a slightly wistful envy of Asadourian’s passion; it was incredibly disruptive, yet so much fun, to fall madly in love. Many years ago, she herself had experienced a considerable amount of emotional turmoil in connection with a certain tall, dark Starfleet officer.
“And stay out of trouble until that heals!”
Picking up her pace at the sound of the familiar voice, Troi turned a corner in time to catch a fleeting glimpse of red and blue as Beverly Crusher ducked back into sickbay.
Ensign Brengle, the recipient of the doctor’s commandment, was limping away down the corridor.
On the spur of the moment, Troi decided to take a short detour. After all, as long as she was awake, she could attend to certain frictions between the captain and his chief medical officer.
The outer ward of sickbay was empty of patients, but several nurses were clearing the area of used medical supplies, and Crusher was standing in the middle of the room frowning at the data padd in her hand.
“Busy night?” asked Troi.
“You could say that,” said Crusher, with a weary sigh. “No major emergencies, just a steady stream of minor injuries from freak accidents. For instance, did you know there’s a holodeck scenario for riding dinosaurs?”
“That sounds like one of Wesley’s ideas.”
“Probably,” said the doctor.
“But surely he wouldn’t construct a dangerous program?”
With a shake of her head, Crusher said, “Oh, not even Marte blamed the computer for her accident.
The fail-safe parameters can protect you from being trampled on by an allosaurus, but they can’t stop you from tripping over a Jurassic vine and twisting your ankle.”
“Interesting setting, but I think I’ll stick to more modern sports.” Troi assumed her best pretense of nonchalance to ask, “When is your shift over?”
Crusher scratched a quick note on the tablet, then handed it to one of the departing nurses. “Right now.”
They were finally alone, which gave Troi the opportunity to ask her next question. “So are you going to have breakfast with the captain this morning?”
“No,” said Crusher emphatically. “In fact, I have no intention of meeting the captain for any meal whatsoever in the foreseeable future.”
“I see,” said Troi. “He hasn’t apologized for your broken dinner engagement.”
“He hasn’t even remembered that we made plans.”
“Even so, I wish you would make a point to meet with him soon.” Troi held up a hand to forestall an indignant protest. “He doesn’t seem to be sleeping well lately.”
“Maybe he has a guilty conscience.”
“Actually, Beverly,” said the counselor, “I’m getting a little worried about him, and so is W. The captain’s interest in the Heart has become so intense that I’m inclined to term it an obsession.”
“Are you serious?” Crusher folded her arms over her chest in an unconscious gesture of distrust.
“I am very serious.” Fortunately, she was able to say this with complete sincerity. “I’m not ready to request a formal medical exam, but I’d like your professional opinion on his condition.”
“Off the record?”
“Yes.”
“All right, Deanna.” Crusher unlocked her arms and shoved her hands deep into her coat pockets. “You win. I’ll stop by the captain’s cabin this—” Her last words were drowned out by the intrusive wail of yellow alert sirens.
So much for that clever plan, thought Deanna ruefully. And so much for any more rest that night.
The fact that Data did not sleep was well-known throughout the ship, so it was not unusual for the android to have visitors at any time of day or night. Both Geordi La Forge and Miles O’Brien were in the habit of stopping by Data’s cabin if they had worked late and were in the mood for company.