WEEK 5, DAY 3
"This is not good." Dr. Crusher intoned.
For weeks she had been working on a cure, but for the life of her she couldn't find anything. MM was simple enough, as was the gas that triggered it, but when they reacted something happened that she couldn't simulate, or find out exactly how it happened. All she knew was somehow, 'it' happened.
The scope of the problem was full known. Everybody knew how many victims there were, if they were one of them, and the warning signs for when to avoid someone. The most unfortunate ones were those that didn't know how long their cycle would take, and were living in fear of themselves every day. "It's coming, I know it. When is it? Is it today? Was that it!? Oh, just my stomach."
It was ordered that anyone suffering from MM had to wear a patch at all times to let the rest of the crew know that they were sufferers. The patch was made so that it turned red when the person in question was ovulating or pre-menstrual, so if someone was seen with a red patch he was treated very gently, but usually avoided if possible. For some people it brought back legends of WWII Germany. As days went by the MM victims who were at the completion of their cycles were referred to as Marked.
"What have you found?" stammered Picard. By now he was quite paranoid about what his body was doing to him, his reputation and the rest of the known universe. The practice of the officer on duty threatening to disintegrate any ship they encountered was becoming routine.
"Okay, I have no idea of how to cure it. The solution that causes it is like nothing I've seen before. I'm not getting anywhere with this. It does seem that the amount of the chemical dictates the time between cycles. But there's a catalyst as well that I can't find. Once I find it, then I could probably get somewhere." Of course Beverly knew everything about the catalyst (having created it), but she needed an excuse for not having any results yet.
"Is that all?"
"Only one other thing, I have discovered that the effects will eventually fade away."
"When?" Picard's eyes lit up.
"After thirty cycles, I'm afraid."
Picard seemed to shrink, as if he was trying to hide inside himself. "Thirty? How much longer will I have to put up with this if there isn't a cure?"
"Another eight weeks."
"Oh no..."
"Sorry sir, this shouldn't be happening! I don't know why."
After a little comforting, Picard eventually pulled his pride back to the forefront. "Alright then. I'll just have to cope." He turned to Dr. Crusher. "Thank you Beverly, I know you're trying."
Crusher saw genuine appreciation in his eyes. 'At last he's learnt his lesson' she decided. "You're welcome sir. I know exactly what you're going through, trust me."
"I know, I know." He paused for a while as if he had something else to say, but instead he abruptly walked away.
"Poor thing." Bev told herself. "Eight more weeks of this, at least it's rubbing off on him. Just when is Will going to learn?"
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WEEK 6, DAY 6
Today it was Geordi's turn to feel the introduction to Mother Nature's cruel practical joke on her daughters gone awry. He was never too pleased about it after Dr. Crusher warned him about what would probably happen. But like all the other men before him, he had proceeded with a carefree It-Can't-Stop-Me-I'm-Invincible attitude the first time it came along.
And like all the other men before him, he would regret it.
The pre-menstrual syndrome had caused a sudden change to come over Geordi - he had gone into a cleaning frenzy. He decided that it had been far too long since the warp drive had been cleaned (when actually it had only been three weeks).
"Engineering to Bridge." Geordi announced.
Silence. More silence. "Engineering to Bridge!" Geordi insisted.
Still nothing. "What's wrong with my badge? Why isn't it working?" he said to himself, somewhat annoyed.
"You didn't activate it." a passing Ensign Cullinan answered nonchalantly.
Geordi stared at Cullinan as he walked away. "Thanks Cullinan!" he called out. "...ya fat ugly slob." he finished after Cullinan had turned the corner. "Engineering to Bridge." he repeated after hitting his comm badge.
"Go ahead LaForge." Riker replied.
"We may have to shut down our engines temporarily. The warp core components are due for a cleaning."
"What?" Riker asked incredulously.
"We need to clean the warp drive."
"Geordi, the drive was given a thorough cleaning three weeks ago. Why do you need to have it done again?"
"How do you know it was done?" Geordi said accusingly.
"Because Data told me that he had done it." Riker firmly rebutted, his limited patience evaporating rapidly. Riker's Marked today, Geordi remembered.
"Well it's best to be sure sir." He replied firmly. "The warp drive will be shut down for six hours. LaForge out."
"Lieutenant you're not--" Geordi turned his badge off, and threw himself into giving the dilithium crystals a good polishing.
Despite all his attempts Riker could not persuade Geordi that the warp drive was already clean, and that a few specks of hypothetical dust actually wouldn't cause a breach in the warp core. Geordi was cleaning the drive, and that was that. The argument was very heated thanks to the two combined Marked men, and was on the verge of violence a few times. If someone had come in and learnt that an argument this strong was over the supposed existence or non-existence of some dust, they would have sprinted for the straight-jackets. Some considered sending for Picard to resolve this, but upon discovering that he too was Marked, the idea was quickly abandoned.
After half an hour of debating, arguing and threatening, Riker finally surrendered. "Fine! Have it your way! But do you have to do it on your own? We can't just sit here for six hours, we've got orders to fulfill!"
"Well yes I do have to do it alone, actually!" Geordi insisted. "I can't trust anyone else with this kind of delicate operation. My apologies if I offended anyone."
"What about Data then?"
Geordi's will faltered. Damn. I can't say Data can't do it. But I have to make sure! I'll just watch him do it with me. We won't be separated. "Yes, Data would be a help." He replied smoothly, without a hint of giving in.
For a while the job went along just fine. An hour went by, and it looked like they'd be done in another two. As usual, the pair were chatting away, having an amiable chat about just about anything.
Until Data brought up the ultimate in wrong subjects.
Geordi was having a ball of a time so far tearing strips off Riker and Picard. Lately their behavior had been an abundant source of combined wonder, concern and hilarity. Data, however, was being somewhat unresponsive to Geordi's bursts of laughter - no suprises there.
"That was brilliant, wasn't it?" Geordi gleefully cried after relating another story.
"I am not sure." Data responded in his usual polite tone. "I do find it somewhat disturbing."
"No! No! It's a laugh! Watching them running around like that is such a scream!" Geordi was in raptures as he buffed a cylinder head.
"Be that as it may, I do believe the presence of MM on the Enterprise is a somewhat unbalancing factor."
At the mention of MM, Geordi became very sullen. "Yes... well... it does make things a little difficult."
"Quite." Data intoned, but with an edge to his voice LaForge couldn't identify.
"What? What's the matter?"
For a moment Data looked unsure, as if he wasn't sure how to start (which was exactly right). "It is just... for some reason I think that it is somewhat disappointing that those infected with MM view it as some kind of disease."
Geordi was purely astonished. He turned and faced Data directly. "Well how do you see it?" he asked in some aggravation.
Data did not return his stare. "It could be seen as a chance to see the other side of certain things. To see how females must feel. I would certainly like to have this kind of opportunity."
"Opportunity? OPPORTUNITY!!!" Geordi shrieked. "Trust me Data, this is NOT an opportunity! It is a sickness, plain and simple! End of story!"
Now Data turned to face LaForge. "I think that comment is very callous, Geordi. It is a complex part of nature, not an illness."
"For women, yes! But for MEN, no! I don't enjoy the prospect of bleeding every six weeks for the next 3 years, and I certainly don't consider being this annoyed an OPPORTUNITY!!" raged Geordi.
"I do not mean to--"
"Look! Just forget it, okay!" Geordi snapped. "Just forget I ever mentioned it. Alright?"
"What, that you were suffering from--"
"YES!!!!"
Data stared at him vacantly for a few moments. "Certainly."
"Thank you!" Geordi heaved out in satisfaction. At last he'll shut up about it.
Data certainly did forget it. He deleted all recorded entries that Geordi was suffering from MM or periods, and to be certain set up a subroutine that would ensure that if he heard Geordi mention it, the memory would immediately be removed.
Once this was done, of course, there was nothing to hold Data back. Geordi wouldn't mind answering questions about it since he wasn't personally involved with it. Not to mention he could give an objective opinion on its' emotional effects.
"Do you know what it is like?"
"What?"
"Having a period."
"I thought I told you not to talk about it."
"Do not talk about what, Geordi?"
"ME HAVING PERIODS!!"
-zzt- the memory was deleted. "What, Geordi?"
"AREN'T YOU LISTENING!!!?"
"Of course."
"THEN WHY ARE YOU STILL TALKING ABOUT IT?!!"
"I am sorry, Geordi. I do not remember you telling me."
LaForge sucked in his breath. 'Sometimes a machine doesn't make a good friend' he thought. "Never mind Data. You're still learning."
Data paused to finish clearing the coolant pipes, when he continued unabated. "But as I was saying, what do you think it is like?"
"Data!"
"Yes?"
"I told you not to mention that!!"
"Did I mention that before?"
"Yes!" Geordi raged.
"When?"
"Half a minute ago!"
"Oh." Data paused. "I do not remember mentioning anything at all."
"Well you did. Alright?!"
"What did I mention?"
"Oh God! Do I have to spell it out?"
"Spell what out, Geordi?"
"MM!!!! ME AND A LOT OF THE CREW ARE HAVING PERIODS!!!!!!!!!!!"
-zzt- Again, the reference to Geordi was deleted. "Oh. Was that what you said? How many?"
Geordi let out a deep, rumbling groan. "This is my first."
Data held a quizzical look. "First what? I meant how many of the crew have MM?"
"What?!" Geordi looked hurt. "Don't you care about me?"
Data looked confused. "Why should I? You do not have MM. But it is quite worrying that so ma--"
"I just told you! I do have it!"
-zzt- "You only told me a lot of the crew had MM."
"Yes, and I told you I did too!"
-zzt- "Yes."
"YES!!" Geordi shouted, starting to hyperventilate.
"So, why should I be concerned about you? Do some sufferers of this virus concern you?"
"No, Data. You should be concerned because I DO have it-" -zzt- "-and I am rapidly losing my patience with you denying it!!!"
"I am denying what?"
Behind his VISOR Geordi's eyes were growing bloodshot. "That I have MM!!!"
-zzt- Data waited expectantly. "What am I denying, Geordi?"
"Data, is this some sort of game?"
"No, Geordi. Why would I play a game on such a delicate subject?"
"I don't know!! Just why are you deliberately annoying me, especially in this state!?"
"I am not trying to annoy you. And what 'state' are you in?"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT STATE!!!!!??" Geordi exploded, his fists tightly clenched. "THE STATE OF ME HAVING A PERIOD AND THE SHOCK OF IT!!!!"
-zzt- "The shock of what, Geordi?"
"Ohhhhhhh!!! I've had enough of you!!! Just get out, alright?! Out!! OUT!!!!!"
And despite the fact that Data was far stronger than Geordi and a lot heavier, his rage was so powerful that Geordi actually managed to throw Data out of Engineering. "AND NEVER SPEAK TO ME AGAIN!!!" Geordi shrieked. "YOU INSENSITIVE PRICK!!!"
Data was utterly confused. Why were so many people getting angry at me all of a sudden? It must be because of the MM problem, yes. But why Geordi? He does not have it, I must ask him about it - but he gave me an order not to speak to him. But Commander Riker gave me an order to assist Geordi in cleaning the warp drive. That has priority.
So Data strode back into Engineering, all eyes staring wide-eyed at him. Without a hint of discomfort he walked into the shut down warp core chamber, and continued the task as if there were no interruption. Geordi was staring at him.
"I thought I told you to get out." He said menacingly.
Data did not even flinch. It was as if he didn't hear him, though he clearly would have. "Data!! I told you to get out, and I meant it!! You've hurt my feelings!"
No movement. "DATA I'M WARNING YOU!!!" Geordi roared.
Poor Data had no idea how to handle this. 'Geordi is insisting I leave, but I cannot break my orders.' He wanted to explain this problem to Geordi, but he couldn't speak to him. And all the while Geordi was shouting at him. 'What should I do? What should I do?'
In the end LaForge, with the help of a taser, made the decision for him. One electrical surge and Data was down for the count, and the count would end up in triple figures. He was unceremoniously 'escorted' from Engineering, and dumped outside the range of the sensor for the door.
Geordi went back to his beloved cleaning in a frenzy, and pretty soon the cleaning seemed to soothe him. He went into a lull of tranquility, induced by the freshness of the scene. The sweet, sweet smell of the cleaning agent. What is that? Pine, always pine. He took a deep, long breath of air, and promptly fell unconscious from the fumes of the disinfectant.
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WEEK 6, DAY 7
Not even her wedding could compare to the level of emotion running through Beverly's mind. It was just at the wedding it was a feeling of love, here it was a mixture of worry and guilt. Everywhere she went there were reminders of the curse of the Marked. Red badges flared, especially today - this being a common day. But the real sight that made the effect hit home for Beverly was in 10 Forward.
She had gone there purely as a distraction, but there she saw something that she wished that she hadn't.
It wasn't anything special. It was just a man - Lt. Junior Grade Morrison. A very likeable, if occasionally patronizing fellow. Beverly knew him from Engineering - he was one of the few engineers who were competent in repairing medical equipment. Occasionally he filled in at Sickbay when there was a shortage of medical officers.
Looking at him, Beverly was shocked at what had happened to him. She remembered that he was one of the early patients to come through when the "epidemic" swept the ship - before she started using her discretion in who received the MM shot and who didn't. Had she thought of it earlier, she never would have given it to him. As it happened, he had been given the weekly dose.
But here he was, the patch on his chest red as his bloodshot eyes. He looked terrible. The lines in his face had grown much deeper. He'd lost a lot of weight, and his skin was very pale. His hand was trembling slightly. His eyes seemed to have sunk deeper into his face, and were wide open in a familiar expression. She'd seen it on the face of some prisoners rescued from an unfriendly alien military camp on Rajiv IV. The signs of torture were obvious on them. And just like them, Morrison barely moved. With his jaw hanging open slightly and the only perceptible movement being his chest when he breathed, Morrison looked for all worth a mannequin. On top of that, the bulge in his pants where the sanitary pad sat only made him look ludicrous.
Morrison was a kind, but sensitive man. He could handle just about any situation without too much fuss. A warp core breach, antimatter leakages - no sweat for him. But emotionally he was already very brittle. And MM came along, and gave him a sledgehammer blow to the head. He just wasn't quite in touch with his emotions as much as most. Six great emotional explosions later, he looked drained. Empty. Crusher couldn't look at him anymore, so she got up and left, giving him a pat on the back as she went.
Four hours later she came back with Deanna for a little socialising, and he was still there. He hadn't moved, not even an inch. She tried talking to him, and got no response whatsoever. Troi tried to sense any emotions, and she did - she burst into tears. Beverly called in a medical team, and they carried him away.
He never spoke again. He never even moved again. His already unsteady grip on reality, only held up for this long by the facade of the generous, smiling, happy man, had been wrenched away. It would never come back.
As many men do when they feel overly emotional (after they admit they actually do have emotions), Morrison had been reliving all the highly emotional times in his life. Every laugh, every memory, every tear, every scrap of pain had come back to him. And on that sixth time, he had snapped. Occasionally Troi would attempt to look into his mind and see what was going through it, but it was always either pure pain, or nothing whatsoever. All attempts to make contact to whatever place he was in were met with more catatonia. The medical team knew he probably would never, in a sense, live again, but still he clung on to life. He only needed to be fed intravenously. He lived like this for another 28 years.
"Their emotional responses are that much stronger because the men are so unfamiliar with it." Beverly had thought. "They have no experience with this kind of sudden change. It's quite a culture shock for them." She remembered her first experiences with menstruality. The first few times were tough enough, and she had plenty of time to prepare herself. She knew everything that there was to know about it, done all she could to be ready for the onset, but still it hit her pretty hard. The men here had no warning. They knew nothing, suspected nothing, not to mention not being quite as in touch with their emotional sides as women. Nobody ever told them anything about it - it was always a taboo subject.
This inspired Beverly to redouble her efforts to find a solution, but the same no answer came back to her every time.
"This is not good." Dr. Crusher intoned.
For weeks she had been working on a cure, but for the life of her she couldn't find anything. MM was simple enough, as was the gas that triggered it, but when they reacted something happened that she couldn't simulate, or find out exactly how it happened. All she knew was somehow, 'it' happened.
The scope of the problem was full known. Everybody knew how many victims there were, if they were one of them, and the warning signs for when to avoid someone. The most unfortunate ones were those that didn't know how long their cycle would take, and were living in fear of themselves every day. "It's coming, I know it. When is it? Is it today? Was that it!? Oh, just my stomach."
It was ordered that anyone suffering from MM had to wear a patch at all times to let the rest of the crew know that they were sufferers. The patch was made so that it turned red when the person in question was ovulating or pre-menstrual, so if someone was seen with a red patch he was treated very gently, but usually avoided if possible. For some people it brought back legends of WWII Germany. As days went by the MM victims who were at the completion of their cycles were referred to as Marked.
"What have you found?" stammered Picard. By now he was quite paranoid about what his body was doing to him, his reputation and the rest of the known universe. The practice of the officer on duty threatening to disintegrate any ship they encountered was becoming routine.
"Okay, I have no idea of how to cure it. The solution that causes it is like nothing I've seen before. I'm not getting anywhere with this. It does seem that the amount of the chemical dictates the time between cycles. But there's a catalyst as well that I can't find. Once I find it, then I could probably get somewhere." Of course Beverly knew everything about the catalyst (having created it), but she needed an excuse for not having any results yet.
"Is that all?"
"Only one other thing, I have discovered that the effects will eventually fade away."
"When?" Picard's eyes lit up.
"After thirty cycles, I'm afraid."
Picard seemed to shrink, as if he was trying to hide inside himself. "Thirty? How much longer will I have to put up with this if there isn't a cure?"
"Another eight weeks."
"Oh no..."
"Sorry sir, this shouldn't be happening! I don't know why."
After a little comforting, Picard eventually pulled his pride back to the forefront. "Alright then. I'll just have to cope." He turned to Dr. Crusher. "Thank you Beverly, I know you're trying."
Crusher saw genuine appreciation in his eyes. 'At last he's learnt his lesson' she decided. "You're welcome sir. I know exactly what you're going through, trust me."
"I know, I know." He paused for a while as if he had something else to say, but instead he abruptly walked away.
"Poor thing." Bev told herself. "Eight more weeks of this, at least it's rubbing off on him. Just when is Will going to learn?"
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WEEK 6, DAY 6
Today it was Geordi's turn to feel the introduction to Mother Nature's cruel practical joke on her daughters gone awry. He was never too pleased about it after Dr. Crusher warned him about what would probably happen. But like all the other men before him, he had proceeded with a carefree It-Can't-Stop-Me-I'm-Invincible attitude the first time it came along.
And like all the other men before him, he would regret it.
The pre-menstrual syndrome had caused a sudden change to come over Geordi - he had gone into a cleaning frenzy. He decided that it had been far too long since the warp drive had been cleaned (when actually it had only been three weeks).
"Engineering to Bridge." Geordi announced.
Silence. More silence. "Engineering to Bridge!" Geordi insisted.
Still nothing. "What's wrong with my badge? Why isn't it working?" he said to himself, somewhat annoyed.
"You didn't activate it." a passing Ensign Cullinan answered nonchalantly.
Geordi stared at Cullinan as he walked away. "Thanks Cullinan!" he called out. "...ya fat ugly slob." he finished after Cullinan had turned the corner. "Engineering to Bridge." he repeated after hitting his comm badge.
"Go ahead LaForge." Riker replied.
"We may have to shut down our engines temporarily. The warp core components are due for a cleaning."
"What?" Riker asked incredulously.
"We need to clean the warp drive."
"Geordi, the drive was given a thorough cleaning three weeks ago. Why do you need to have it done again?"
"How do you know it was done?" Geordi said accusingly.
"Because Data told me that he had done it." Riker firmly rebutted, his limited patience evaporating rapidly. Riker's Marked today, Geordi remembered.
"Well it's best to be sure sir." He replied firmly. "The warp drive will be shut down for six hours. LaForge out."
"Lieutenant you're not--" Geordi turned his badge off, and threw himself into giving the dilithium crystals a good polishing.
Despite all his attempts Riker could not persuade Geordi that the warp drive was already clean, and that a few specks of hypothetical dust actually wouldn't cause a breach in the warp core. Geordi was cleaning the drive, and that was that. The argument was very heated thanks to the two combined Marked men, and was on the verge of violence a few times. If someone had come in and learnt that an argument this strong was over the supposed existence or non-existence of some dust, they would have sprinted for the straight-jackets. Some considered sending for Picard to resolve this, but upon discovering that he too was Marked, the idea was quickly abandoned.
After half an hour of debating, arguing and threatening, Riker finally surrendered. "Fine! Have it your way! But do you have to do it on your own? We can't just sit here for six hours, we've got orders to fulfill!"
"Well yes I do have to do it alone, actually!" Geordi insisted. "I can't trust anyone else with this kind of delicate operation. My apologies if I offended anyone."
"What about Data then?"
Geordi's will faltered. Damn. I can't say Data can't do it. But I have to make sure! I'll just watch him do it with me. We won't be separated. "Yes, Data would be a help." He replied smoothly, without a hint of giving in.
For a while the job went along just fine. An hour went by, and it looked like they'd be done in another two. As usual, the pair were chatting away, having an amiable chat about just about anything.
Until Data brought up the ultimate in wrong subjects.
Geordi was having a ball of a time so far tearing strips off Riker and Picard. Lately their behavior had been an abundant source of combined wonder, concern and hilarity. Data, however, was being somewhat unresponsive to Geordi's bursts of laughter - no suprises there.
"That was brilliant, wasn't it?" Geordi gleefully cried after relating another story.
"I am not sure." Data responded in his usual polite tone. "I do find it somewhat disturbing."
"No! No! It's a laugh! Watching them running around like that is such a scream!" Geordi was in raptures as he buffed a cylinder head.
"Be that as it may, I do believe the presence of MM on the Enterprise is a somewhat unbalancing factor."
At the mention of MM, Geordi became very sullen. "Yes... well... it does make things a little difficult."
"Quite." Data intoned, but with an edge to his voice LaForge couldn't identify.
"What? What's the matter?"
For a moment Data looked unsure, as if he wasn't sure how to start (which was exactly right). "It is just... for some reason I think that it is somewhat disappointing that those infected with MM view it as some kind of disease."
Geordi was purely astonished. He turned and faced Data directly. "Well how do you see it?" he asked in some aggravation.
Data did not return his stare. "It could be seen as a chance to see the other side of certain things. To see how females must feel. I would certainly like to have this kind of opportunity."
"Opportunity? OPPORTUNITY!!!" Geordi shrieked. "Trust me Data, this is NOT an opportunity! It is a sickness, plain and simple! End of story!"
Now Data turned to face LaForge. "I think that comment is very callous, Geordi. It is a complex part of nature, not an illness."
"For women, yes! But for MEN, no! I don't enjoy the prospect of bleeding every six weeks for the next 3 years, and I certainly don't consider being this annoyed an OPPORTUNITY!!" raged Geordi.
"I do not mean to--"
"Look! Just forget it, okay!" Geordi snapped. "Just forget I ever mentioned it. Alright?"
"What, that you were suffering from--"
"YES!!!!"
Data stared at him vacantly for a few moments. "Certainly."
"Thank you!" Geordi heaved out in satisfaction. At last he'll shut up about it.
Data certainly did forget it. He deleted all recorded entries that Geordi was suffering from MM or periods, and to be certain set up a subroutine that would ensure that if he heard Geordi mention it, the memory would immediately be removed.
Once this was done, of course, there was nothing to hold Data back. Geordi wouldn't mind answering questions about it since he wasn't personally involved with it. Not to mention he could give an objective opinion on its' emotional effects.
"Do you know what it is like?"
"What?"
"Having a period."
"I thought I told you not to talk about it."
"Do not talk about what, Geordi?"
"ME HAVING PERIODS!!"
-zzt- the memory was deleted. "What, Geordi?"
"AREN'T YOU LISTENING!!!?"
"Of course."
"THEN WHY ARE YOU STILL TALKING ABOUT IT?!!"
"I am sorry, Geordi. I do not remember you telling me."
LaForge sucked in his breath. 'Sometimes a machine doesn't make a good friend' he thought. "Never mind Data. You're still learning."
Data paused to finish clearing the coolant pipes, when he continued unabated. "But as I was saying, what do you think it is like?"
"Data!"
"Yes?"
"I told you not to mention that!!"
"Did I mention that before?"
"Yes!" Geordi raged.
"When?"
"Half a minute ago!"
"Oh." Data paused. "I do not remember mentioning anything at all."
"Well you did. Alright?!"
"What did I mention?"
"Oh God! Do I have to spell it out?"
"Spell what out, Geordi?"
"MM!!!! ME AND A LOT OF THE CREW ARE HAVING PERIODS!!!!!!!!!!!"
-zzt- Again, the reference to Geordi was deleted. "Oh. Was that what you said? How many?"
Geordi let out a deep, rumbling groan. "This is my first."
Data held a quizzical look. "First what? I meant how many of the crew have MM?"
"What?!" Geordi looked hurt. "Don't you care about me?"
Data looked confused. "Why should I? You do not have MM. But it is quite worrying that so ma--"
"I just told you! I do have it!"
-zzt- "You only told me a lot of the crew had MM."
"Yes, and I told you I did too!"
-zzt- "Yes."
"YES!!" Geordi shouted, starting to hyperventilate.
"So, why should I be concerned about you? Do some sufferers of this virus concern you?"
"No, Data. You should be concerned because I DO have it-" -zzt- "-and I am rapidly losing my patience with you denying it!!!"
"I am denying what?"
Behind his VISOR Geordi's eyes were growing bloodshot. "That I have MM!!!"
-zzt- Data waited expectantly. "What am I denying, Geordi?"
"Data, is this some sort of game?"
"No, Geordi. Why would I play a game on such a delicate subject?"
"I don't know!! Just why are you deliberately annoying me, especially in this state!?"
"I am not trying to annoy you. And what 'state' are you in?"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHAT STATE!!!!!??" Geordi exploded, his fists tightly clenched. "THE STATE OF ME HAVING A PERIOD AND THE SHOCK OF IT!!!!"
-zzt- "The shock of what, Geordi?"
"Ohhhhhhh!!! I've had enough of you!!! Just get out, alright?! Out!! OUT!!!!!"
And despite the fact that Data was far stronger than Geordi and a lot heavier, his rage was so powerful that Geordi actually managed to throw Data out of Engineering. "AND NEVER SPEAK TO ME AGAIN!!!" Geordi shrieked. "YOU INSENSITIVE PRICK!!!"
Data was utterly confused. Why were so many people getting angry at me all of a sudden? It must be because of the MM problem, yes. But why Geordi? He does not have it, I must ask him about it - but he gave me an order not to speak to him. But Commander Riker gave me an order to assist Geordi in cleaning the warp drive. That has priority.
So Data strode back into Engineering, all eyes staring wide-eyed at him. Without a hint of discomfort he walked into the shut down warp core chamber, and continued the task as if there were no interruption. Geordi was staring at him.
"I thought I told you to get out." He said menacingly.
Data did not even flinch. It was as if he didn't hear him, though he clearly would have. "Data!! I told you to get out, and I meant it!! You've hurt my feelings!"
No movement. "DATA I'M WARNING YOU!!!" Geordi roared.
Poor Data had no idea how to handle this. 'Geordi is insisting I leave, but I cannot break my orders.' He wanted to explain this problem to Geordi, but he couldn't speak to him. And all the while Geordi was shouting at him. 'What should I do? What should I do?'
In the end LaForge, with the help of a taser, made the decision for him. One electrical surge and Data was down for the count, and the count would end up in triple figures. He was unceremoniously 'escorted' from Engineering, and dumped outside the range of the sensor for the door.
Geordi went back to his beloved cleaning in a frenzy, and pretty soon the cleaning seemed to soothe him. He went into a lull of tranquility, induced by the freshness of the scene. The sweet, sweet smell of the cleaning agent. What is that? Pine, always pine. He took a deep, long breath of air, and promptly fell unconscious from the fumes of the disinfectant.
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WEEK 6, DAY 7
Not even her wedding could compare to the level of emotion running through Beverly's mind. It was just at the wedding it was a feeling of love, here it was a mixture of worry and guilt. Everywhere she went there were reminders of the curse of the Marked. Red badges flared, especially today - this being a common day. But the real sight that made the effect hit home for Beverly was in 10 Forward.
She had gone there purely as a distraction, but there she saw something that she wished that she hadn't.
It wasn't anything special. It was just a man - Lt. Junior Grade Morrison. A very likeable, if occasionally patronizing fellow. Beverly knew him from Engineering - he was one of the few engineers who were competent in repairing medical equipment. Occasionally he filled in at Sickbay when there was a shortage of medical officers.
Looking at him, Beverly was shocked at what had happened to him. She remembered that he was one of the early patients to come through when the "epidemic" swept the ship - before she started using her discretion in who received the MM shot and who didn't. Had she thought of it earlier, she never would have given it to him. As it happened, he had been given the weekly dose.
But here he was, the patch on his chest red as his bloodshot eyes. He looked terrible. The lines in his face had grown much deeper. He'd lost a lot of weight, and his skin was very pale. His hand was trembling slightly. His eyes seemed to have sunk deeper into his face, and were wide open in a familiar expression. She'd seen it on the face of some prisoners rescued from an unfriendly alien military camp on Rajiv IV. The signs of torture were obvious on them. And just like them, Morrison barely moved. With his jaw hanging open slightly and the only perceptible movement being his chest when he breathed, Morrison looked for all worth a mannequin. On top of that, the bulge in his pants where the sanitary pad sat only made him look ludicrous.
Morrison was a kind, but sensitive man. He could handle just about any situation without too much fuss. A warp core breach, antimatter leakages - no sweat for him. But emotionally he was already very brittle. And MM came along, and gave him a sledgehammer blow to the head. He just wasn't quite in touch with his emotions as much as most. Six great emotional explosions later, he looked drained. Empty. Crusher couldn't look at him anymore, so she got up and left, giving him a pat on the back as she went.
Four hours later she came back with Deanna for a little socialising, and he was still there. He hadn't moved, not even an inch. She tried talking to him, and got no response whatsoever. Troi tried to sense any emotions, and she did - she burst into tears. Beverly called in a medical team, and they carried him away.
He never spoke again. He never even moved again. His already unsteady grip on reality, only held up for this long by the facade of the generous, smiling, happy man, had been wrenched away. It would never come back.
As many men do when they feel overly emotional (after they admit they actually do have emotions), Morrison had been reliving all the highly emotional times in his life. Every laugh, every memory, every tear, every scrap of pain had come back to him. And on that sixth time, he had snapped. Occasionally Troi would attempt to look into his mind and see what was going through it, but it was always either pure pain, or nothing whatsoever. All attempts to make contact to whatever place he was in were met with more catatonia. The medical team knew he probably would never, in a sense, live again, but still he clung on to life. He only needed to be fed intravenously. He lived like this for another 28 years.
"Their emotional responses are that much stronger because the men are so unfamiliar with it." Beverly had thought. "They have no experience with this kind of sudden change. It's quite a culture shock for them." She remembered her first experiences with menstruality. The first few times were tough enough, and she had plenty of time to prepare herself. She knew everything that there was to know about it, done all she could to be ready for the onset, but still it hit her pretty hard. The men here had no warning. They knew nothing, suspected nothing, not to mention not being quite as in touch with their emotional sides as women. Nobody ever told them anything about it - it was always a taboo subject.
This inspired Beverly to redouble her efforts to find a solution, but the same no answer came back to her every time.