Chapter 12

Heidelburg gazed out the floor-to-ceiling window of his guest quarters, trying to find some calm in the green fields and orange skies of Berengaria, but it was a lost cause. He was too preoccupied with failures.

He had been desperate, and thus risked the lives of four people to prove a point. He knew it was wrong, but he didn't know how much longer he had left in this universe. He owed it to himself, to Jamal Duke, and to all of humanity, to discover just what the mind was capable of.

If he had been allowed to study the subjects immediately after the last test, he may have been able to learn more without endangering them further. Now, their newfound abilities - the first evidence of the next stage in Human evolution - would likely diminish until forgotten, if the subjects survived long enough.

His misery was interrupted by the sound of the door opening. He slowly turned his aged body to see Commodore North and Doctor T'Ling in the doorway.

Heidelburg started to speak, to beg to be let see the subjects, when North held up a hand to silence him and looked at T'Ling.

"Doctor?"

Heidelburg had studied Vulcans enough to see that T'Ling was regarding him with mild contempt - although her sharp features would appear impassive to most eyes - and this disheartened him further. He had hoped that she would agree with his purpose.

"The test subjects experienced neural shock," said T'Ling. "They are now all in induced comas, but this is only slowing the damage to their synaptic pathways. I have advised against reviving them until their brain activity can be stabilised."

"That's where you come in," North said to Heidelburg.

"This is an unprecedented case in Humans," T'Ling explained further. "At present, there is no known method for treatment."

"You got us into this mess," said North. "Do you think you can get us out of it?"

"Yes, Commodore. I can," Heidelburg said adamantly. He looked to T'Ling. "If revived, they should be stable enough that they will be free of seizures for a few minutes. It is critical that we treat them during this short period. We can do so via a combination of medication and Vulcan meditation techniques."

T'Ling raised a sceptical eyebrow. "Do you believe that will be effective on Humans?"

Heidelburg nodded. "I have studied your culture for years now, Frau Dokter. I have even performed some meditations myself."

North sighed. "In lieu of better ideas, we might as well try it. With constant supervision, of course. At the slightest hint of trouble, put the subjects back into coma."

"There is… another potential treatment," said Heidelburg, staring at T'Ling. "A mind-meld could help guide the subjects in controlling their new abilities."

T'Ling, almost imperceptibly, seemed to physically withdraw at this suggestion. "I… would not recommend that," she said, her voice wavering, again with such subtlety that most wouldn't notice. "There is still a great deal about melding that is unknown, especially with other races.

"Furthermore, there are only two Vulcans currently on-base: Myself and Lieutenant Sylor. Mister Sylor has had no meld training whatsoever, while my own skills in that area are… unrefined."

North shook his head. "It's too risky. And we're trying to get rid of these abilities, not control them."

Heidelburg started to protest. "Ah, but, Commodore, if we could just study-"

"My people are not your lab rats, Doctor," North snapped at him. "You will do as asked and help to stabilise your victims, or I will put you in a cell next time."

Heidelburg hung his head and nodded. He knew this was the best chance he could hope for to see the results of his work.

"Good," said North. He spoke briefly with the security guard outside, ordering him to escort Heidelburg to the Infirmary. T'Ling remained silent, avoiding Heidelburg's gaze.

As North prepared to leave them, Heidelburg spoke again.

"Commodore? You… You must believe me… I never meant for anyone to come to harm. I was only trying to do good."

North regarded him a moment, seeming to understand. "Well, now's you chance, Doctor."

"What do Andorians normally do in these situations?" Sal asked.

Threv looked up at her across the counter and took a sip of his grapefruit juice. He had, once again, come down to Sal's Diner to share his problems with her. There was something about the Draylaxian woman that made her easy to talk to. While she knew Threv was having issues with family and career, she didn't know the full extent of them, and he had just conveyed to her that he was considering asking Dr. T'Ling for therapy.

"We don't ignore mental or emotional problems," Threv answered Sal, "but we don't discuss them openly like Humans do either."

Sal leaned inquisitively on the countertop. "You don't do therapy?"

"It's there, but… it's frowned upon. We're expected to just get over our issues ourselves or suppress them. People with serious mental problems tend to end up in institutions."

Sal winced. "That's not good."

Threv shrugged and took another swig of his bitter drink. "That's the way it's always been."

"So what's made you think about therapy now?"

Threv traced his fingers up and down the cool glass in front of him, studying it intently. "I, uh… I don't seem to be very good at dealing with my issues myself. They still bother me when I'm trying to get on with my life." What he didn't say was that he didn't really want to get on with life either way.

Sal didn't pry for specifics, merely nodding. "Take it from me, kid; it's better to talk about this stuff than keep it bottled up."

"Hm," Threv grunted. He still didn't feel comfortable that Azhri knew so much already, and the thought of letting more people in on the secret chilled him.

As if reading his mind, Sal said, "You could at least discuss it with your bondmates. See what they think."

He just looked up and smiled. "Maybe I'll do that. Thanks, Sal." He paid for his juice and made his way out of the diner.

Despite what he had said, he was now committed to keeping his problems to himself for good.

Surely they would go away eventually.