The Eyes of the Beholders - A. C. Crispin [56]
“Wesley …” Beverly ran a hand through her hair distractedly. “My God, I wonder whether he’s had one of the dreams.”
“Not when I last spoke to him, an hour ago. He requested data from our medical banks on brainwaves of intelligent beings.”
“For his research, I suppose.” Her smile was a bit strained. “The captain has a lot of confidence in Wesley, to give him assignments that involve the safety and sanity of the crew. I just hope it’s not too much responsibility too young.”
“From what I have observed, Wesley thrives on challenge,” Selar said. “He is nearly a grown man, Beverly, don’t forget.”
“You’re right.” She shook her head. “It seems like yesterday that he was Thala’s age. By the way”—she glanced up—”how is Thala doing?”
“Better.” Selar’s mouth tightened a bit. “Although she received a considerable shock. She is technically well enough to leave sickbay …”
She trailed off, and Beverly finished the phrase. “But …”
“But she pleaded so fervently not to be sent back to her cabin that I have kept her here.” Selar looked as though she were wondering whether she’d have to defend her action and, if so, how she would successfully do so.
Beverly waved at her subordinate reassuringly. “Don’t worry about it. We’re not that crowded … yet. The poor thing deserves any feeling of security we can give her, after all she’s been through.”
“Did you discover whether Thala could legally be sent elsewhere than an Andorian colony, if the cost of her passage were paid?” Selar asked.
“Yes, I talked to Lieutenant Greenstein a couple of days ago, right after I spoke to the administrator on Thonolan Four.” She slanted a sideways glance at the Vulcan. “By the way, when you speak of finding someone to pay her passage—which from this sector would be a considerable expense—do you by any chance have someone in mind?” Crusher asked the question as if she already knew the answer.
“I would pay it,” the Vulcan said unhesitatingly. “To see Thala have a chance of continued proper medical care and schooling, I would be pleased to do so.”
Crusher nodded. “Well, from what Howard said, sending Thala to Vulcan would constitute a rather shady deal.” At Selar’s raised eyebrow, the doctor translated: “It would be against the letter of the law.”
The lieutenant’s dark eyes betrayed disappointment. “That is most unfortunate.”
“However, just between you and me”—Beverly leaned forward, holding the Vulcan’s gaze with her own—”I doubt that the law would ever enter into it.”
“Why not?”
“Because the Andorians don’t want her, and if she were to conveniently disappear, they wouldn’t ask a single question about her whereabouts.”
Selar raised an eyebrow. “Indeed?”
Crusher’s usually generous mouth thinned angrily. “The only reason any of the officials I talked with could think of to offer Thala a place would be to collect any inheritance she has.” She gave a bitter laugh. “Frankly, for all they care, we could sell the child to a brothel as long as we split the money with them! Their callous attitude makes me sick.”
Beverly took a deep breath to regain control, then managed to smile faintly. “Selar, if you want to pay Thala’s passage to Vulcan, to see her placed in an institution there, where she’ll receive good medical care and a real education, I’ll take my hat off to you.”
Selar’s eyes were puzzled. “Your hat?” she said blankly. “I have only seen you wear a hat once, when you were on your way to the holodeck, wearing those impractical shoes with stilts for heels.”
The doctor rolled her eyes. “No, no, what I meant is that I’ll help you any way that I can.”
“Oh.” Selar’s expression lightened fractionally. “Thank you, Beverly. I am grateful for your support.”
“I’m the one who’s grateful,” Crusher said. “I want you to know that during the past few days it’s been so reassuring knowing that I can rely on you to keep things