Chapter 4

Captain Picard sat at his desk, trying to put the confrontation with Beverly out of his mind. He began to study the prepared report from Starbase 14 describing the background of the science vessel they had been charged with locating out at the Far Rim. He frowned at the report; there was hardly any information of use. Even the ship apparently had no name. According to the report, the ship belonged to the "Eve Project", whatever that was. There was no record of such a project in any of the usual databases. Admiral Collins had urged discretion, but for what? Picard had no information to share, even if he wanted to. He slapped the data pad down in frustration. Apparently the whole damn thing was classified.

He stared at the wall distractedly. He could not help but think about her again. Why were things with Beverly so difficult lately? She was right; the communication between them had not been there. Sometimes he felt he had trouble relating to her and then other times it was as though she was so familiar that it frightened him. She was so funny and vibrant, and brilliant...how could he possibly not be capable of communicating with her?

Relaxing a little now he smiled, thinking about her, but his smile quickly faded. The fact that he was scared by even the most innocent potential intimacy with her made him angry and confused. Maybe it was that he was unsure of the boundaries. He had no idea if Beverly wanted anything more than to be friends. But perhaps the problem was he hadn't truly tried to be her friend yet.

Did he have feelings for her again? Like he'd had so long ago? He had pushed those feelings down into his subconscious for so long that he believed they had been extinguished. Perhaps this is what counselor Troi had been trying to get him to realize. Perhaps he should seek out her counsel. Or maybe Commander Riker would be willing to provide him with some advice. But the embarrassment of it all made him reluctant to ask. Whatever he did, he would have to be discreet. He didn't want any of this to get around the ship. It just wouldn't do to have people he barely knew believing he had personal problems. Why did he hardly know them? Well, it was just his way; they had come to expect this way of being from him. Briefly he considered whether he had ever been someone that others could be close to. Or had he always been this way?

Sighing, he glanced back down at the report and something caught his eye. It was a name. From a long time ago. He picked up the pad. How strange, almost chilling to see it there before him after all of these years. The owner of the name was one of the crew listed on the science vessel. He held the pad closer, to make sure he was reading it correctly.

"Allen Harrow," he read out loud. A strange chill passed through him, and a long-buried anger threatened to break through the surface, but he submerged it. He hoped that when faced with the real person, he would be able to keep his composure in the same way.

The first nine witness interviews had not exactly been fruitful. Everyone he had spoken to had heard screams of the bystanders who had found Cadet Singh's body, but it seemed they had not heard those of Cadet Singh. But the tenth witness Picard interviewed held some surprising information.

"Thank you for meeting with me, Cadet Wheeler," said Jean-Luc, sitting down in the cafeteria across from a nervous sixteen year old girl. She nodded quickly. He remembered what Chancellor Villanova had said to him, and he consciously tried not to present too intimidating a figure.

"Your dorm room is adjacent to Cadet Singh's room, correct?"

"Yes sir."

"Meaning you share a wall with Cadet, Singh, isn't that correct?"

"Yes sir."

"You reported to security that you were in your room at the time of death."

"Yes sir."

"How did you know what the time of death was?"

"Um...security told me she was killed at approximately 0830 sir. And then they asked me where I was at that time."

"I see. And what were you doing still in your room at 0830 hours, cadet?"

"I was late for class, sir. I had just taken a shower and decided to skip breakfast to get to class on time."

"Cadet, don't you know the importance of a good breakfast?" Picard berated her disapprovingly. "At the very least, eat a piece of fruit, or something else nutritious."

The girl stared at him looking confused. "Uh…Yes sir. Sorry sir."

"Did you hear anything? I know the walls are quite thin."

"I heard something. Like a muffled shout…and then something falling to the floor. Then…nothing."

"How many voices did you hear? Male or female?"

"Just one voice, and I think it was female, sir."

"What did you do when you heard the shout, Cadet?"

"That's when I left sir. I rushed out of my room to see what had happened."

"What time did you leave your room?"

"About 0835. That's when I saw him, sir."

Picard felt his skin grow clammy. He put his hand on his knee and sat up straighter. "Saw who?"

"Cadet Singh's boyfriend, sir. And he looked right at me, but his…something about his eyes wasn't right."

Picard began typing notes into his data pad, keeping as much eye contact with Wheeler as possible. "What is his name?"

"Allen. Allen…Harrow, sir."

Picard continued to type. "Describe him."

"He's got black hair, dark eyes, sort of pale skin, skinny, and tall."

"Is he my height?"

Wheeler blushed. "You're not very tall, sir. He's over six feet."

Indeed six feet was quite tall for a sixteen year old. Picard kept his facial features neutral, but he was quite sensitive about his own height. Perhaps he hoped, he still had the chance to grow a bit more over the next year.

He cleared his throat. "And where was Cadet Harrow standing in relation to you?"

"He was coming out of Cadet Singh's room."

Picard looked at her closely. "And was he in a hurry? Did he shut the door behind him?"

"No. And looking back, that is what seems so weird, sir. He was totally calm."

"And you said he looked at you. Did he say anything?"

"No, sir."

"You described his eyes as not being 'right'. What did you mean?"

"Well, Cadet Harrow has dark brown eyes sir; almost black. But when I saw him come out of Cadet Singh's room, they were different. When I was little I had a pet lizard, and I can remember he had very distinctive eyes. When Cadet Harrow looked at me, it seemed as though I was looking into the eyes of a reptile."

Jack had never seen Allen Harrow so upset. He had found Allen in the micro-biology lab, seated with his head down at one of the science stations. Jack had known he would be there, not wanting to leave, burying himself in work even more than usual. But he hadn't expected that his friend would be crying.

Trying to comfort Allen, he patted him on the shoulder. Jack didn't know what to say...after all he was still in shock from having found Parvati dead on the floor of her room. He could not imagine what Allen himself was feeling. Both teens turned at the sound of a shuffle of feet in the doorway. Jack's eyes narrowed and his usually effervescent confidence ebbed. It was Ensign Picard. Picard leveled a piercing gaze at him and then gave him a slight smile as he strolled into the lab as though he owned the place.

Jack glared at the man, but Ensign Picard ignored him, apparently unfazed by Jack's attempts at appearing tough. Instead, he walked toward Jack and Allen without hesitation and leaned against a counter nearby. He nodded toward Allen, who was looking at Picard out of the corner of his eye.

"Cadet Allen Harrow? I'm Ensign Jean-Luc Picard, and unfortunately I have been tasked with the assignment of investigating the death of Cadet Singh." He paused, when Harrow refused to looked up from the hands now clasped in his lap. For a few seconds, Picard had the distinct impression that Harrow intended to run. There was only one exit, and he would have to run through Jean-Luc to get away.

Picard looked down. "I'm sorry for your loss, Cadet Harrow," he said, and despite his cold tone, he was at least partly sincere. He truly was sorry for the loss of life, but as he was quite suspicious of Harrow, he wasn't quite sure yet if he felt sorry for the somber cadet. He pressed on. "I understand, Harrow that Ms. Singh was your girlfriend. Were you together long?"

"Allen, don't speak to him without legal counsel," warned Jack protectively.

Picard leaned on the counter as though he was there for a social call. "Your friend is right, Allen. If you have something to hide, by all means contact someone in Legal. But you do not have a right to an attorney, as I am not Starfleet security. That said… it is completely voluntary for you to talk to me. But if you agree to talk...please don't waste my time," he said with a small smile. "I simply cannot tolerate dishonesty."

Jack glared at Picard defiantly. He was determined not to be intimidated by Picard and his reputation. "He's got nothing to lie to you about, do you Allen?" Jack turned to his friend supportively.

Picard kept a cool eye on Harrow. "Your friend Crusher here is very loyal to you, which is very admirable. But he also can't seem to keep his mouth shut. Tell me, how long are you going to let him speak for you, Allen?"

"Fine, I'll talk to you," Harrow murmured, looking up at Picard with bloodshot eyes. He nodded toward Crusher. "Can Jack stay?"

Picard nodded. "Of course," he allowed.

Allen Harrow had denied everything. He had denied being present in Singh's room, or even having seen her that day. Picard had a dilemma, for he found both Allen and the witness Wheeler to be credible. And so if he believed both of them, where did that leave his investigation? Harrow was either the killer or he was not. He knew he needed to check with Starfleet Security and check the physical evidence they had gathered.

When Picard departed, Harrow had remained behind, brooding. Jack Crusher had followed Picard and stopped him outside the lab. "I told you he was telling the truth," Jack snapped.

Picard brushed past Crusher. "I'm not going to discuss my investigation with you, Mr. Crusher."

"My name's Jack," Crusher called after him. "Arrogant bastard," he added, muttering under his breath as Picard walked swiftly down the hall and disappeared around a corner. But as he watched he felt what had been just a spark of admiration before, begin to flare. He had watched Picard's face when questioning Allen. He was a sincere person, principled. Jack could tell that Picard only wanted to know what had really happened to Parvati, which is of course what Jack wanted too. He took a halting step after him, before deciding to follow him down the hallway.

"Captain, a vessel is incoming, sir," reported Data from Ops. "Its course would have taken it through the Sargasso Sea region, sir."

"Where we're headed," Picard murmured. "On screen," he said, getting up from his command chair. The screen now showed a tiny white pod lazily tumbling toward them. It was clearly a Federation ship—an escape pod…but was unmarked. "Life signs?"

"One sir," Data confirmed.

Picard nodded. "Bring it in to Shuttle Bay One," he ordered. "Use the tractor beam."

He tapped his communicator. "Doctor Crusher, kindly meet me in Shuttle Bay One. We've brought a one-person escape pod aboard and the occupant is alive, but we expect that person to be in need of medical care."

"Understood, Captain," said Crusher. "I'm on my way."

Picard and Riker walked toward the turbo lift. "Mr. Worf, please join us in greeting our new guest."

Doctor Crusher and a nurse were there already when they arrived, and they stood outside of the shuttle pod. Crusher said something to her aide and gestured at the pod door. Picard had to resist shouting to her to stay away from the door. He did not want to see her harmed because of carelessness. But instinctively he knew she had no intention of opening the pod without him there first, and so he restrained himself from calling out to her.

"Please stand aside, Doctor," Worf said gruffly, as they approached. He pulled out his tricorder, and ran it over the door and exterior of the pod.

She moved out of the way, but nodded toward Picard. "Look at this sir," Doctor Crusher said, gesturing to a messy dried blood stain near the pod hatch.

Picard stepped next to her and peered at the stain, which he noted was shaped vaguely like a handprint.

"Get a sample, Mr. Worf," Riker ordered.

Worf nodded, complying. "Please move aside sirs," he said. I am going to trigger the explosive bolts on the hatch." He hit a control on the hatch, and stepped back and to the left, pulling out his phaser and holding it at the ready. There was a hiss and the hatch released, pushing out slightly and then dropping to the floor.

Worf walked forward cautiously with his phaser as Crusher and her subordinate waited impatiently for him to give the all clear. Picard walked forward and could see a shape moving inside the shuttle. The smell of dried blood, untreated wounds and an unwashed body emanated from the pod.

Crusher moved forward, but Picard grabbed her arm. She turned an leveled a sharp look at him. Clearly she did not appreciate his interfering with her duties. Letting go of her arm slowly, he said, "Doctor, the interior of that shuttle is too small for you to climb in there and help this person. And you'll have no protection if he is violent." Picard nodded to Worf. "Can you pull him out?""

Beverly looked highly irritated. "There is a way to move patients, and a way not to, Captain, and having Worf manhandle a wounded person is not exactly protocol," she protested.

"It is now," he said. She studied his face, and then shrugged, looking away. Worf glanced at Picard for confirmation and immediately his head and torso disappeared into the pod's interior. There was a loud grunt, and Worf drew out a man by gripping underneath his armpits. All things considered, he placed him down on the deck gently enough as Crusher and her nurse rushed to the man's side.

It wasn't until her tricorder reached his face that she recognized him. Picard heard her gasp, and he knelt down next to her protectively. "My God," sad Crusher. "Allen, is that you?" Picard looked from the bruised and bloodied man, to Beverly and back again. An unkempt black beard speckled with white covered the once young face, but yes, it was unmistakably Allen Harrow.

Picard looked again at Beverly searchingly. He wasn't aware that she had known Allen Harrow except as perhaps a passing acquaintance. But sure enough, not only did she recognize him, but he clearly meant something to her. He watched as she wiped away tears from her face.

Picard stood up abruptly and stepped back, glancing over at Riker. "Sickbay," Crusher was saying, "Three to beam from Shuttle Bay One. Riker watched his commanding officer curiously as Picard continued to stare in silence with a shocked expression, as Crusher and her new patient disappeared in the beam.