Unworthy - Kirsten Beyer [119]
Supplemental medical holograms continued to work diligently around them, cleaning up the area as they went. One was good enough to collect the instruments the Doctor had disturbed in his outburst and whisk them unobtrusively toward the medical replicator for recycling.
Barclay had waited to deliver what he knew would be troubling news about Meegan. Actually, had it been up to him, he might have waited longer. But he was due to debrief the senior fleet staff in less than half an hour and his report would contain Meegan’s true nature, as well as his disconcerting conclusions. Reg couldn’t bear the thought of the Doctor first hearing what he had to say in a public forum. He suddenly wished desperately for another shipwide crisis that would require his immediate attention, ending this conversation. However, the lieutenant reminded himself that what he and Doctor Zimmerman had done in creating Meegan was out of concern.
Somehow this didn’t make Barclay feel any better.
“We were worried about you,” Reg asserted, attempting to convey in only a few words the care they had taken in their plans.
The Doctor’s scowl sharpened and his eyes glistened with brittle anger.
“You,” the Doctor said with emphasis, “were worried about me ?”
“Well, both Doctor Z and I thought that …”
The Doctor seemed to sense the number of eyes and ears now focused upon them. Quickly and a little painfully, he grabbed Reg’s forearm and directed him to an unoccupied hallway that separated the recovery area from the main sickbay.
“You didn’t think!” the Doctor insisted. “If you had, you might have realized that in the years I have been active, I’ve had no difficulty whatsoever of engaging in normal romantic relations with a wide variety of women.” He stepped back, shaking his head in disbelief. “Honestly, the two of you. Just because you’re flesh and blood you think you understand my feelings, my needs, better than I do? You thought I needed your help? Reg, you can’t put three words together in the presence of a woman you find attractive and your last liaison was with a woman who only bedded you to steal Starfleet secrets for the Ferengi!”
Barclay blushed at the unpleasant memory, but maintained his composure. “Doctor Z rightly pointed out …”
“Doctor Z? You think I need to be taking romantic advice from a man who hasn’t so much as touched a member of the opposite sex since before the founding of the Federation?”
“That’s not true.”
“I was exaggerating for effect,” the Doctor huffed. “But my point still stands.”
“I realize you may not have shared our concerns,” Reg said as evenly as possible. “We never doubted your ability to find and maintain lasting relationships. You weren’t the problem. The issue at hand was a partner who could actually share a life as long and diverse as that which is ahead of you.”
The Doctor softened at this.
Sensing the subtle shift, Reg continued, “Neither of us could bear the thought that one day, you were going to fall in love with a woman who would age and die while you remained essentially unchanged. How many times would that process repeat itself before you decided it was no longer worth the pain? Ultimately, you might grow less human than you’ve already become … less compassionate, less … feeling . The only solution was to create an appropriate counterpart for you. We designed Meegan in the hope that one day, she, like you, would attain sentience. She was the most extraordinary piece of engineering Doctor Z had ever conceived of. She wasn’t programmed to fall in love with you. Meegan was given interests and skills that complemented yours but we both believed it would take years before nature would, hopefully, take