The Sky's the Limit - Marco Palmieri [64]
“Tell that to your captain after you’ve disappointed Ambassador Troi,” Ubaan said. “The Tadigeans will be here in two days. Time is running out.”
Between the ticking clock and the attache’s hostile attitude, Barclay was definitely feeling the pressure. His gaze drifted to the colorful caravan up ahead. Only a few years ago, he would have sought escape from the stress by immersing himself in some captivating holodeck scenario, but, with Counselor Troi’s help, he had managed to get his holodiction under control. The temptation was always there, however, and at times like this it could be hard to resist.
The program’s already running, he thought. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.
Perhaps there was a way to send Ro and Ubaan on some meaningless errand, so that he could have the holodeck to himself for a while? A thrilling camel race across the burning sands was just what he needed right now. Or perhaps a stealthy visit to the harem of some fabulously wealthy Arab sheikh…
No, he told himself firmly. He had made too much progress over the last few years to backslide now. The captain and Geordi trusted me with this mission. I’m not going to let them down.
“Computer, end program,” he tried again. When the holodeck failed to respond once more, he gave up on voice commands and used his tricorder to locate the manual controls instead. He touched a button on the invisible wall and a keyboard materialized in the air before him. His fingers tapped against the control panel, shutting down the program. The inhospitable desert vanished like a mirage, replaced by the usual checkerboard grid pattern. The blazing sun and torrid temperature evaporated into the holodeck’s memory banks.
“That’s more like it, ” Ro commented. “These devices are overrated, anyway. Just a way for spoiled, complacent people to avoid confronting reality.” She sniffed disdainfully, further crinkling the distinctive ridges on her nose. “There aren’t enough real problems in the galaxy that we need to waste our time fighting holographic monsters and villains? Why not put all that energy toward a cause worth fighting for?”
Like the plight of the Bajoran people? Barclay guessed that Ro was thinking of the generations of persecution her people had been subjected to by the Cardassians. Still, holotechnology had its uses; numerous studies had proved that it helped starship crews cope psychologically with the rigors of interstellar travel. Only rarely did an individual become overly dependent on the escapist fantasies it provided.
Like me.
“You’ve never used a holodeck?” he asked her incredulously. “Not even for harmless recreation?”
“Well, maybe once in a while.” She blushed slightly. “Strictly as a means of exercise, of course. To maintain physical fitness.”
Barclay was relieved to hear that Ro wasn’t completely averse to the occasional holographic diversion; it made her somewhat less intimidating. But before he could ask her what her favorite programs were, a doorway whooshed open and Lwaxana Troi burst into the holodeck. “Is it working?” she asked anxiously. She looked flustered and out of breath. “Please tell me you have it working by now!”
“N-not quite,” Barclay admitted, reluctant to disclose that he hadn’t even isolated the problem yet. Perhaps the matter conversion and holographic imagery subsystems were not integrated properly? “But we’re making progress. There’s still time—”
“Not anymore!” Lwaxana shook her head. “The Tadigean delegates have just arrived, forty-eight hours early, and they want to start the negotiations right away!”
Under the circumstances, there was no choice but to fire up the Tadigean program and hope for the best. Barclay held his breath as the holodeck transformed itself into a dank, humid, moonlit swamp, complete with bugs, moss, mud,