The Eyes of the Beholders - A. C. Crispin [55]
She smiled. “I had made a cheese soufflé and put it in the stasis unit, and it was perfect.” She sighed. “The cheddar was just right, it was puffed up like one of the white clouds overhead. And to go with it I had bread that I’d made myself, with real butter and honey. Fruit, too, pears and apples, and Wesley had a banana … he loved bananas …”
“You are making me hungry,” Selar said dryly, and the doctor smiled wanly.
“Then, for dessert, we had chocolate mousse. Homemade. Oh, it was indescribable! Jack said it was the best he’d ever had.”
She paused, and after a moment the Vulcan said hesitantly, “Then what happened?”
The chief medical officer shrugged. “Nothing spectacular, to an outside observer. We packed up the flyer and went home—and after Wesley went to bed, we made love and fell asleep. That’s all …” Her voice broke, and tears welled up in her eyes.
Finally, she whispered, “And the whole time it was happening, I never realized that it was the happiest day of my life! If I had, I would have savored it more—every minute, every second. I wouldn’t have left Jack’s side for a moment. After we made love, I wouldn’t have turned over and gone to sleep. I would have stayed awake and loved him all night long …”
“And you awoke from the dream fully conscious of what you had not done,” Selar said.
“Yes,” Crusher replied softly. “When I woke up, I experienced the sorrow, the desolation of Jack’s death all over again—just as though it were the first time. While I was dreaming, he was truly alive again, and when I awoke, it was as if he’d just died. I had to go through all of it over again.”
“I grieve with thee,” Selar said, her voice taking on a formal note that told the chief medical officer that she was translating literally from her mother tongue. “Have you spoken to anyone else about this?”
Beverly shook her head. “When I made the hourly sickbay update last time, the captain told me that he’d dreamed about losing the Stargazer. It was apparently one of the worst moments of his life. He didn’t go into any details, but I know him pretty well by now … Anyway, it must have been extremely difficult for him.”
She sighed deeply. “Then he asked me whether I’d dreamed, and I lied and said I hadn’t. It would have been too painful to tell him. Jean-Luc is the one person I could never share my grief over Jack’s death with. Doing so would bring up feelings that I’m trying to overcome, not to mention that it would be cruel to Jean-Luc. I know now that Jack’s death was in some ways as traumatic for him as it was for me.”
“So I have gathered,” the Vulcan said. “I believe that you should tell the captain that you have experienced a dream but, if asked about the subject matter, decline to discuss it. I am certain that the captain, being a man of diplomacy and sensitivity, will not press you for details.”
“You’re right, Selar,” Beverly agreed. “I will. But now I know why the ‘fortunate’ victims are slipping into catatonia, and the unfortunate ones wake up so desperate and depressed that they are driven to seek oblivion in death. Many people have dark ghosts in their pasts, and if they felt they would be forced to relive those moments over and over again as if they were really happening, while we’re under the influence of that thing”—she gestured bitterly in the approximate location of the artifact—”well, I can understand why they’re killing themselves.”
“Yes,” Selar said. “There are moments in my past that I would not wish to experience again.”
Crusher straightened her shoulders. “I suppose it’s an indication of the greater mental stability of those who successfully complete Starfleet training that only two Enterprise crew members have turned their anger or fear against their comrades, the way the people on the Marco Polo did. And, thank God, Itoh and Montez were stopped before they could seriously harm their intended victims.”
“It is possible that