The Eyes of the Beholders - A. C. Crispin [67]
Blind, she could not see the transporter beam forming around them, but after a second she could feel its blessed melting feeling seize her.
Even as they materialized, she ripped at the bandages over her eyes and ears, hearing a babble of voices, feeling the touch of hands.
The sane, clean sights of the Enterprise’s transporter room and Doctor Chandra’s face filled her vision. Gavar’s people did not weep, but her knees sagged, and she would have collapsed if not for the human woman’s support.
“Are they alive?” she demanded, looking down fearfully at her sprawled companions. Beverly Crusher was running a scanner over Commander Riker. Medical priorities reasserted themselves in her mind, and the doctor struggled to regain her professional demeanor. “Doctor Crusher,” she managed in a steadier tone. “I had to sedate the Klingon—twenty cc’s of Qong-Hergh.”
Beverly Crusher glanced up, her expression terribly worried, but not holding the bleakness Gavar had feared to see. “They’re all alive, Gavar,” she said reassuringly. “Thanks to you, they’re all alive.”
Jean-Luc Picard entered sickbay with strides so hurried they were almost a run. Beverly Crusher had rarely seen him so visibly agitated. When he saw her standing over the diagnostic and treatment couch where Will Riker lay unconscious, Picard halted, then approached cautiously, as though he could somehow awaken her comatose patient. “How is he?” he asked in a low voice.
Beverly sighed. If only he could awaken Will by mere noise! It’s not going to be nearly that easy.
Aloud she said, “Physically, he’s fine now. But he’s withdrawn deep into his own mind, probably in a last-ditch effort to hang on to his sanity.”
Picard glanced around the medical facility. “What about La Forge, Worf, and Data?”
“Recovering, all of them,” she reported crisply. “Geordi came out of it within a few minutes of his return to this ship, under the influence of a small dose of tricordrazine. Worf is still asleep—Gavar gave him a hefty dosage of that Klingon sedative—but his brain patterns indicate normal activity. He should awaken naturally in about eight hours. Doctor Selar and Commander La Forge are currently engaged in restoring Data to full function. They say it won’t be much longer.”
“What happened to Data? Why did the artifact affect him? Surely the mental trauma couldn’t disturb him, since he’s an android.”
“Apparently his positronic brain went into a full-system shutdown when confronted with the unstable and contradictory sensory environment aboard the artifact. He was the first to lose consciousness.”
“I’ll want to talk to them—except, of course, Lieutenant Worf—as soon as possible.” Picard gazed down at Riker’s bearded features. “Is he in a coma?”
“No,” Crusher replied. “His condition at present resembles the mental withdrawal into catatonia that so many of the other victims of the artifact have evidenced.”
“Will he recover naturally, or can you bring him out of this?”
She sighed. “I don’t believe he will recover without intervention. At the moment, I’m considering alternatives. I thought of asking one of the Vulcans to attempt a mind-meld, but none of our medical personnel is a psychological healer. That’s a specialty on Vulcan, just as psychiatry is on Earth. The doctors at the Vulcan Science Academy might be able to help him …” She trailed off with a shake of her head.
“I can’t afford to wait for a hypothetical future cure!” snapped the captain. “Dammit, Doctor, I need Commander Riker, and I need him now.” Picard’s hazel eyes were filled with concern and … yes, fear—something Beverly Crusher had never seen there before. “This crisis is growing worse by the moment. Within another twelve hours, the Enterprise is likely to be in the same shape as the Marco Polo.”
Crusher’s mouth tightened with frustration,