Unworthy - Kirsten Beyer [71]
Barclay had been following along in the Doctor’s script from the start but soon realized that he wasn’t really witnessing an instruction meant only for his benefit. With a faint smile it dawned on him that Meegan’s interest in the Doctor was more than professional. Her eyes never left his, and her slightly flushed cheeks were a definite sign of attraction. He assumed he looked much the same way any time he was in the presence of Commander Glenn.
As soon as Seven entered the sickbay she noted that the effervescent cheer with which the Doctor greeted her was diametrically opposed to the reception she received from his assistant, Meegan.
“Am I interrupting something?” Seven asked simply.
Meegan’s petulant grimace was only intensified when the Doctor replied, “Of course not. I’ve been expecting you.”
Seven decided to dismiss Meegan’s less than professional demeanor as evidence of both her youth and inexperience. Surely anyone with an ounce of maturity would realize that Seven’s friendship with the Doctor was purely platonic and would provide no barrier to anyone else with Meegan’s obvious intentions. In time, perhaps, she would take Meegan aside and assure her that her obvious jealousy was neither warranted nor necessary.
“Hello, Seven,” Barclay greeted her warmly. She felt the corners of her mouth tip upward automatically as she returned the salutation. Reg was as sweet and genuine a person as she had encountered in the Alpha quadrant.
“Have the Galen’s unique systems performed up to your expectations so far?” she asked, well aware that he was intensely shy.
“Oh, yes,” Reg said, his head bobbing up and down with obvious enthusiasm. “All our preliminary tests of the emergency medical and security holograms have been unqualified successes. All that remains is to test the command holograms, though Commander Glenn has been reluctant to authorize those diagnostics.”
“Perhaps the events of the past few days have forced her to adopt a more conservative posture. I would assume that once we conclude matters in this system, she will be more receptive to your requests.”
“That’s my thought as well, Seven,” Barclay replied, “although I did wonder if perhaps she might be a little threatened by the idea of the ECHs.”
“I doubt Commander Glenn would have been selected to lead the Galen should that be the case,” Seven assured him. “But you should not hesitate to voice your concerns. She may not be aware of her own biases, should they exist.”
“I quite agree,” the Doctor added, with a meaningful nod at Reg.
“I don’t want to intrude,” Barclay said, suddenly more ill at ease. “Good to see you again, Seven.”
“And you, Lieutenant.”
Seven then allowed the Doctor to direct her to a private examination room, a thoughtful addition, in Seven’s view, to the design of the sickbay. She had grown accustomed aboard Voyager to limited privacy during medical procedures, but now more than ever, appreciated this unique attribute in the design of the Galen.
“And how is your inhibitor functioning?” the Doctor asked as he began to scan her with his medical tricorder.
“It appears to be working properly. As long as it is engaged, I am not aware of the voice at all. It has been refreshing to work without its constant interference.”
“Counselor Cambridge has advised me that he has begun testing your ability to control the voice without the inhibitor.”
“So far, my efforts in that regard have been less than satisfactory,” Seven replied honestly.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” the Doctor encouraged her. “This is uncharted territory. I think you’re bearing up extremely well.”
“Have you made any progress in your analysis of the catoms?” Seven asked.
The Doctor sighed. “Some, though my efforts in that regard have been less than stellar. I’ve analyzed the molecules using every diagnostic at our disposal, but I still understand almost nothing about how they do what they do. Clearly they are effective. If they weren’t you’d have died.”
This was news to Seven, though once she had considered it, she realized it made sense.