Foreign Foes Part 12

Chapter Five.

HIS FACE LOOKED NORMALwithout the glowing temple implants. Eyes closed, no one would have known he was .

. . blind. Beverlys mind choked over the thought as surely as her throat would have if shed tried to speak it.

Blind.No fooling blind.

There was no medical reason for her to be there. She couldve been checking on Rileys arm or Tsnatsus fluid intake ... she should have been. But she left it to others, to be here holding a hand.

Watching the movement of his eyes under closed lids, she wondered what he envisioned in a dream. Did Geordi see as she didcolors, forms, definable lines and shapes, or did he dream in whatever impulses he usually saw through his VISOR?

It struck her that Geordi hadnt really been blind since he was a child. No more than anyone who could turn their sight on and off with a desire. There was no permanence when he took his VISOR off at night, just as there was no permanence when she let her own eyes drift shut.

Now all that had changed. His VISOR was elsewhere, the implants that allowed it to work were goneand his eyes might never open again.

Beverly squeezed his hand and looked up at the vitals screen, more for distraction than anything else, until Datas voice pulled her gaze toward the doorway.

Geordi?

Hes still under the anesthetic, she whispered, rising, yet keeping her hand around Geordis.

Data nodded and glanced up at the monitors.

How is he?

Resting easily.

She gently released Geordis hand and joined Data near the doorway.

Lets talk somewhere else.

Data hesitated. He wanted to stay. Should he? No logical reason presented itself, so he turned and followed the doctor out.

In silence they walked to the next door and entered Beverlys office. She let out a long sigh and fell into her desk chair. Beverly looked tired, eyes weary, shoulders weaker.

I guessed right, she said.

Removing the bioneural implants worked.

Guessed, Doctor?

Beverly looked up at him, then back down.

Without time to review procedures on the operation I had to let the computer lead the way and suggest the answers. We had to make an educated guess as to the problem.

Data nodded. Dr. Crusher had good stamina for a human, but her voice was spiritless and she seemed not to wish to go into the details Data needed.

And that problem was?

he prodded.

She rubbed her foreheadanother sign she was tired.

His temple implants were breaking down and inflaming his tissues.

She frowned, glowering at her hands as she clasped tightly on top of the desk.

We took them out. Now hes fine.

Then you acted correctly.

Data was trying to be consoling and he wondered if it came across that way.

Did I, Data? I let a computer be the doctor and ended up taking out a mans eyes because he had a headache. Not exactly a method of which Hippocrates would have approved.

She ran her thumb along the edge of her tunic jacket and mumbled, Whats next? Decapitations for dandruff?

She was being overly dramatic, Data decided.

I would think that out of the question, Doctor.

The slightest smile appeared on Beverlys lips. Why? Surely she didnt want him to take the comment seriously.

Beverly gestured for Data to take a seat.

He did, knowing that humans disliked an inferior position in any discussion.

Do you know what happened to the implants?

They looked decayed to me. Something that shouldnt have happenedthe implants should outlast theEnterprise. Bioengineering is examining them. Theyve ruled out a problem with the VISOR itself.

She tapped a few commands into her desk computer and swiveled the screen toward him.

Data looked down at the screen a moment. The text said nothing she hadnt told him. Why show him? Just for the sake of having done it? Humans were fidgety.

Prognosis, Doctor?

Hes stable now. h.e.l.l be fine ... except for his sight.

Is the blindness permanent?

Speaking slowly, she whispered, I dont know.

How was he to react? The injury of a comrade was serious. That the disability may be permanent made it doubly so.

He knitted his brows in an expression he thought was regret.

Judging by the sadness in Beverlys eyes he probably came close.

Doctor, I am sorry to ask you to leave, but the captain requires your presence planetside.

Her expression changed to anger without thoughtonce round brows now arched up.

Like h.e.l.l. I cant leave Geordi right now You did just say he was stable, Doctor.

Yes, but ... leave? Now? Out of the question.

She shook her head.

Under no circ.u.mstances. When Geordi wakes up, I have to be here. Hes going to wake up blind, Data. Truly blind. Do you know what that means?

Data thought he did, but something told him that Beverly had another meaning in mind.

Its going to take more than an order from the captain to get me off this ship right now, Mr. Data.

Itll take an act of G.o.d.

Itwas an order from the captain. What more could he say?

There has been a murder, Doctor.

Beverlys face became red. Whether from guilt or anger or disgust, Data could not be sure.

She picked up a medical tricorder from the edge of her desk.

I guess an act of stupidity is as close as Ill get to an act of G.o.d.

Captain Picard?

Barbara was able to catch up with Picards gait across the hall as he stooped down to s.n.a.t.c.h a spoon off the floor. He walked so quickly shed had trouble keeping up with his stride.

She stopped, letting him march a few paces without her. Finally he realized and turned.

Picard stood there, slapping the cup of the spoon against his palm anxiously.

Dr. Hollitt?

She flattened her lips.

Im sorrywere we supposed to be racing?

He glared and walked toward her.

Point taken. What did you find out?

Barbara gave an apologetic nod. She hadnt meant to be so flippant, just wasnt sure how to react to all these Starfleet people. And she wasnt sure how she felt about Rikers disappearance. A few days ago Velex had been a small colony of scientists fumbling in the fields, and she was an overworked and underpaid botany specialist. Now Velex was becoming the battle ground of a war and she was in the middle of it, worrying about a man shed just met a few hours ago. Shed stepped into that relationship expecting nothing more than the moment, and she couldnt really explain the feeling of loss. All she really could explain was that she didnt feel Picard was doing enough to stop the entire situation from falling out of control.

But what should she do? a.s.sert herself as leader of the colony? Or maybe just sit back and let the soldiers do their jobs.

She looked at the hard line of Picards jaw and the captains determined brow.

We dont show them on scanners, but your transmission blanket makes our equipment pretty useless.

Picard nodded and they continued across the hall again. This time the captain seemed to be watching his gallop to a.s.sure she wouldnt fall behind.

He huffed out a breath and clacked the business end of the spoon against his comm badge.

Picard toEnterprise!

Enterprise,Data here, sir.

Mr. Data, I want a scan of the planet for the away teams shuttle.

It would be necessary to disable the white-noise transmission, sir.

Do so, Commander. Restore when scans are complete.

There was a pause. Too long, Barbara a.s.sumedPicard was surprised enough to stop his trot across the hall.

Acknowledge that, Mr. Data.

Barbara flinched at the bark in Picards voice.

Yes, sir. Do you think it is wise considering Commander Rikers failure to report in?

The captain shifted his weight from one leg to the other and Barbara saw his shoulders tense. Was he as anxious to find out about Will Riker and the counselor, or was he just cross at being questioned by a subordinate?

Explain, Commander. Quickly.

Mr. Rikers unexplained absence may be due to ... Klingon interference. Interference that could only increase if the white-noise blanket is disengaged.

Picard looked sharply back toward the center of the hall, a clanging noise distracting him.

Barbara followed his gaze. Just someone setting a table upright.

I see, Picard said flatly.

Wasnt this news? Wasnt this important? Just a bit cold-bloodedto discuss a missing crewmen so dispa.s.sionately. Which was the android, Data or Picard?

Thats the second time youve made such an a.s.sertion, Mr. Data.

Picard was focused again, his eyes off the table and pivoting around the room.

Upon what do you base it?