*********
Morning of the Magicians
Five
*********
Beverly Crusher looked intently around the ornate lobby. Jean-Luc had departed some time ago for the bar, and she stood leaning against the railing of the grand staircase. She and the captain were seated on the balcony. Picard had been working for months to get these tickets. It was a command performance of the master Vulcan symphony orchestra, and they were lucky to be as far forward as they were. Crusher was giddy with anticipation. Already they'd had a splendid meal, and she reveled in the air of romance that hung about the entire night.
She'd worn her most formal evening dress. Off the shoulder and midnight blue, it fit her tightly through the bodice and fell in an elegant A-line down to her ankles. It went quite nicely with the gilding that surrounded her in the ancient building. Vast murals held her attention for minutes on end, and she broke only to take in the rest of the crowd. Each couple was well dressed and seemed as breathlessly excited as she and Jean-Luc. The performance was a survey of ceremonial music from throughout the quadrant, and all reviews promised a show that would not disappoint. She smiled broadly as she saw Picard approaching, absolutely dashing in his white tie and coattails.
He offered her a flute of champagne and his arm, and she took both. Though Crusher had spent the last few minutes admiring her fellow concert-goers, quite a few heads turned as two of the Federation's most speculated-about and alluring officers made their way up the staircase arm in arm........
*********
Hours after the drama in the Captain's quarters, Deanna sat at Beverly's side listening to the steady beeping of the biobed. Again she opened her mind to try and sense anything from her friend, who was now in a deep state of unconsciousness, practically a coma. A few feet away, Picard lay stabilized on his own bed, recovering well from minor surgery to repair slight damage to his lung. His chest rose and fell slowly and steadily, almost in time with the Doctor's.
Will appeared from Crusher's office where he had been attending to ships business reassigning personnel to compensate for the loss of the Captain and physician. He approached Deanna, wiping a hand down his face and through his beard. His own injuries had been insignificant but painful and he looked exhausted. He looked to Deanna in anticipation. She shook her head. They had been unable to revive the Doctor, and Troi was unable to reach her. It was now simply a matter of waiting.
*********
........As the overture began, Picard met Crusher's eyes and took her hand. He clutched it firmly for a moment and they smiled at each other, listening to the minors and majors fall into tune. Both were excited about the performance, but Jean-Luc was ecstatic, and in an excellent mood. They turned and nodded as people filed down the aisle to sit next to them. Picard recognized a prominent Vulcan ambassador and rose to greet him. Beverly smiled at this companion as she settled in next to her.
The hall erupted in applause as the conductor appeared, then settled in quietly as the concert began with an ancient Terran shaker melody. The program was a virtual musical tour of the quadrant, with emphasis on Vulcan and Terran composers. Beverly crossed her legs and looked over again at Jean-Luc, who was already enraptured. She turned her attention forward again and clasped her hands in her lap.
*********
Dr. Selar hovered over Crusher, taking another set of useless readings. She chastised herself for her own illogical actions and snapped the tricorder shut. There was no change in the CMO's status - there had not been for the past day.
Picard, however, was doing quite well and was scheduled for release this afternoon, pending a round of light physical therapy. He reclined on his biobed, trying in vain to read a padd Riker had dropped by that morning. It was useless. His attention repeatedly turned to Beverly. What in the world had happened?
He replayed last evening over and over in his head. Speaking with Deanna, the two felt quite certain the Crusher's behavior and subsequent coma were directly tied to the blackouts she'd been suffering. Troi was emphatic that Beverly had been subject to hypnotic suggestion, but was unable to bring her out of it. Picard actually expected the Counsellor in sickbay any minute - they had only discussed yesterday's events briefly, and she was going to question Picard more thoroughly to see if they could uncover any significant details. It was critical to determine when Beverly had been 'tampered' with, and by whom. Troi worried that without finding that out, they may never get Crusher back.
Gazing over at the beautiful prone form of his best friend, Picard sincerely hoped that they would.
*********
.......The last strains of the opening overture faded away, and the orchestra began its next piece, Schubert's Ave Maria. Jean-Luc leaned over and whispered to the Doctor. "I'm quite intrigued to hear this piece - it's said to be one of the best."
Crusher inclined her head, nodding. It was indeed a stunning piece, and she listened intently to the rise and fall of the central melody. The woman beside her started, and Crusher looked over as her neighbor touched her ear with concern. She looked down and mouthed "my earring fell out." Beverly smiled and bent to help her look. She was slightly miffed at the distraction and strained to hear as she ran her hands along the carpet.
Suddenly she felt a sharp prick. Well, she'd found the damn thing. She grabbed it and sat up. As she did so, she turned it over in her hands, and blinked furiously as the light caught the sparkling diamond and flashed in her eyes. She let out a small "ooh." Picard looked over in concern, but Beverly was entranced by the object.
The woman beside her held out her hand, and Crusher dropped the earring in absentmindedly. The Doctor gave up the trinket reluctantly as the woman smiled demurely in gratitude. Beverly returned a tight-lipped grin. The young woman rose and began making her way down the row. Without knowing why, Beverly stood to follow her. Again, Picard turned in consternation, his eyes curious.
Beverly turned and quietly answered. "I'll be right back." Her tone was distracted. Still caught up in the music, Picard dismissed the scene and turned forward.
*********
"Captain, is there anything you can tell me about your interactions with the Doctor after the rest of us left the other evening?" Troi sat beside Picard's biobed, legs and arms crossed, her brow furrowed in concentration.
Picard exhaled loudly and ran a hand over his head. When he answered, his tone was clipped. "I sat to have another piece of cake while Beverly cleared the dishes. She returned to the living room and requested I retrieve another bottle of wine, which I did. When I returned to the room, I noticed that she seemed somehow different........ distracted. And she was humming to herself."
Troi's eyes fired and her interest piqued. "Was she humming the song, 'Ave Maria?'"
Picard looked to Troi in animated surprise. "Yes, Counselor. How did you know?" Picard looked over again at Crusher as she lay on the biobed. He turned back to Troi. "Is it significant?"
"Yes sir. She'd been complaining for some time that the tune was stuck in her head. That at times she could hear nothing else." Now Troi looked over at her friend. "I believe that song is the key to this mystery. Captain, can you think of why it may be significant to her?"
Picard sat quietly, his concentration focused. He snapped his fingers suddenly. "Yes. Yes, that's it." He turned to Troi. "It was a central piece in a symphony we attended not too long ago. But I can't think why that particular song caught in her head. She didn't even mention it after the concert."
It was now the Counselor's turn to sit quietly. What was the connection? "Was there anything unusual you can remember about the concert?"
Picard cast himself back, remembering the evening. It had been lovely. Dinner, the symphony. It had been hard to leave Beverly at her door that night. Unconsciously he smiled at the memory. Troi was cheered too by the warm feelings coming from the Captain.
Realizing where he was and who he was with, Picard brought himself back to the subject at hand. Other than the remarkably enjoyable performance and his lovely companion, there was nothing that stood out in his memory. He shook his head in frustration.
Troi sensed the Captain's mood and took his hand in both of hers. "Relax sir. Think back. Remember how you felt during the piece. Play each note in your head."
*********
Beverly followed the woman out of the hall and into the corridor, and finally into the ladies' lounge, which was deserted.
As they entered, the woman turned to Crusher, whose head was growing increasingly fuzzy. The song that Picard had been so fond of was still playing in her head. She remained silent, but continued to stare at the young Vulcan.
The woman turned and smiled, locking Crusher's eyes. "Excellent." She began to speak, but Crusher was unable to distinguish the words. Only the song remained in her head.
*********
Troi sensed the Captain regain his control immediately. Picard cast his mind back to their evening on Vulcan months ago. He looked again at Beverly and remembered the feeling of sitting, listening to the music. He wondered if she were enjoying it as much as he. Suddenly, he felt agitated. Beverly was moving around next to him. He looked up as she stood. Something had transpired between her and the woman next to her. He wondered why she was leaving in the middle of the piece, but she seemed distracted - so he turned back to the concert.
He related the memory to Troi. True, it seemed insignificant. "She seemed a bit edgy when she returned, but I honestly wasn't paying attention."
Troi walked over to where Beverly lay. Picard stood and joined her. They spoke over the rise and fall of the Doctor's chest. "I can't say I know what happened, sir. But this is the only lead we've got. Did you know the couple you were sitting next to?"
Picard nodded emphatically. "The man was Ambassador Menar from Vulcan. I do not know who his companion was. You're right Counselor - this is our only lead. And we're going to follow it." He stood quietly resolute for a moment. "Tell Will I'll be joining him on the bridge shortly. And have him set course for the Vulcan home world. Warp 5." His steely eyes met Deanna's and he turned without further discussion, headed for his quarters to change into his uniform. Whatever the hell had happened to Crusher, they were going to get to the bottom of it.
*********
Picard stood on the bridge, an air of authority and frustration looming about him. His movements were concise and accurate, and his responses short. Riker and the bridge crew had taken to addressing him only out of necessity. They had been en route to Vulcan for a full day. Picard had sent a communiqué yesterday to Ambassador Menar and had not yet heard back. They'd repeated the hail this morning, and were still only answered by an automated service, informing them that the Ambassador was "not available." Picard was clearly agitated.
Picard stood and tugged sharply at his uniform. He glanced over his shoulder to Riker. "Commander. I will be in my ready room." He stalked off the bridge. Riker glanced back and he and Worf exchanged knowing glances. Troi was still in sickbay, where she kept a frequent vigil over Beverly between patients. The Doctor was not improving - to the contrary, her brain activity was decreasing.
Riker drummed his fingers at the console of this chair. He stood and traced Picard's route to the ready room and pressed the chime.
"Come." Picard swiveled in his chair. He felt he'd made it clear he did not wish to be disturbed. His face reflected his aggravation.
"Captain. I'd like to contact Starfleet and put in a request for permission to raise to warp 8." Riker stood at attention. Picard's sentiment was not lost on him.
Jean-Luc stood and walked out from behind his desk. He regarded Will silently for a moment. Though Riker had been working with Picard for years, and considered him a friend, the effect was still unnerving. The man was absolutely unreadable at times. He stood waiting.
Picard crossed his arms and brought his hand to his chin, meeting Will's eyes. "Make it so, Number One." He returned to his chair and sat, his back to Riker.
Will was hardly offended. His posture relaxed and he exhaled, turning to leave. Before he reached the door, he heard Picard turn. "Thank you, Will."
Riker smiled to himself and continued out the door. They would be to Vulcan by beta shift. And they would be getting some answers.
*********
In sickbay, Deanna watched Beverly. She could not interpret the signs over the biobed, but she knew that they were not good. She spoke to the Doctor frequently, and several crew members had been by to 'visit' throughout the day. Picard had been by as well several times since his release. He had been quite shy, but at Troi's urging had opened up and told Crusher numerous stories about his day and his memories. It had been endearing. But it had not made a difference. Wherever Beverly was, she was moving farther and farther away from them.
*********
..........She then felt Picard tense against her and responded instantly. Her first strike was lethal. She knew his body inside and out, every square inch. She had worked with it for years, placed her hands inside his chest to touch and heal the quivering tissue, and then closed the wounds herself. There was nothing of his physique she did not know, and her surgeon's precision did not fail. She struck smoothly and swiftly without looking down, her ice blue eyes locked on his dark hazel........
Without stepping back she slid the knife out. The sound of the composition was massive, hypnotic. Still pressed firmly against him, she felt a hot rush of blood on her own chest. It was as though she were on fire. She felt it spread to her abdomen. He was bleeding profusely now, but it would not be for long as his heart was no longer pumping. Though the volume of the music in her head was now slowly decreasing, the cello still played the agonizing central theme. The angelic voice of the woman was silent, and Beverly longed for it to return.........
Still the music played in her head and she hummed quietly, studying his eyes curiously and intently as they dimmed. She had seen life steal away from a person before, but had always been too distracted by efforts to bring it back to every truly savor and understand the moment. She waited patiently until she saw the very last of the light flicker out of his eyes. She stepped back and watched as he slid down the wall and crumpled on the floor. He did not move.........
She picked up the glass of wine Jean-Luc had poured only moments earlier. She sank down lightly on the sofa and crossed her long, slender legs. She gazed at the far wall and took a sip. It was indeed an amazing vintage, and she held it up to the stars to study the patterns of light it cast off. A full-bodied merlot, it was almost exactly the color of Picard's blood- soaked tunic. She glanced again at his still form. The voice of the woman had returned and the music filled her. Closing her eyes, she sighed. She leaned back against the sofa and let oblivion wash over her.
Hours later she woke with a start, stiff in her position on the couch. Confused, Beverly looked around furiously, only to see Picard's cold and now stiff form slumped against the wall. The events from last night rushed into her head, and slowly, quietly, the strains of the Ave Maria picked up in her head. She moaned in agony and dropped her head into her hands. "No. No. NO NO. Stop. Stop. STOP." She stood and staggered to the dining table, where the crimson-stained knife glared up at her. She picked it up in one hand and ran her index finger across with another. It was tacky with dried blood. She held it up to the light and turned, staggering back over to Picard.
She knelt down again and touched his face. It was cool and she was surprised that there was no stubble. She hummed quietly, and a profound ache filled her heart. Tears ran down her face. She had not wanted to kill him, and she did not want to do this. But she would. She could see what would transpire. Her heart was cold with fear, but she saw it all. She sobbed as she looked down at Picard. Holding the knife firmly, she knelt on both knees before him.
*********
Jean-Luc Picard stood before the Vulcan governor. "He's been murdered?" His face was ashen. He could see the trail growing cold before him. They would lose Beverly. He despaired for a moment before feeling confidence rush over him. They would prevail - he bent all his will toward it. "Governor, I have a number of questions, which I need answered. I respectfully request that you join me on the Enterprise, where I can more thoroughly explain the situation." Governor Romak regarded Picard levelly. "Of course Captain. I will assist in any way I can."
"Very well. My thanks to you, Governor." He turned from the screen as the transmission ended. "Mr. Data, please arrange for the Governor to meet us in transporter room three." He stalked to the aft lift. "Number One, you're with me."
Riker stood silently and joined Picard in the lift. The doors closed on two very serious looking men.
*********
They regrouped in the observation lounge momentarily. Picard sat at the head of the table and indicated for Will and the Governor to join him. "Governor, I apologize for the abrupt and unceremonial nature of our visit."
"There is no need to apologize, Captain. The circumstance you describe is cause for alarm, and casts even more shadow over the events surrounding the Ambassador's death." The Governor steepled his hands.
Picard shifted in his seat and crossed his legs, his brow deeply furrowed. "You have our attention Governor - please continue."
"The Ambassador, for lack of a better word, 'disappeared' about a month ago. He missed two prominent engagements. The council was concerned and sent personnel to investigate his home. We found him there. He had been dead for approximately two weeks." The politician's tone was somber. Menar had been new to the Ambassadorship, but was well respected on Vulcan. His murder had been cause for alarm, and they had been at a complete loss to explain it.
"That roughly fits the timeline for your meeting at the symphony." Riker turned to Picard, who sat rigidly, arms on the table.
"Indeed." Picard questioned the grey haired Vulcan beside him. "Governor. Do you know the whereabouts of the Ambassador's young companion the evening of the command performance of the Vulcan symphony?"
The man raised an eyebrow. "It is curious you ask, Captain. Vulcan authorities are quite interested in that same question. She is the last known person to be seen with the Ambassador - the night of the performance you mention."
Picard sat back. "There are far too many coincidences here, gentleman." He grasped the arms of his chair. "Will, have Worf coordinate with Vulcan security personnel. Finding that woman is our number one priority. Governor - thank you for your help." Picard rose and extended his hand.
"Captain, if I may, I would like to see Doctor Crusher." The Governor stood, arms behind his back. His features were surprisingly warm for a Vulcan, and age had softened the angle of his jaw and brow. Though Picard was quite uncomfortable with the request, he was willing to grant it. He nodded his head and the Governor followed him through the aft doors. Will returned to the bridge to begin the search for the woman they hoped held the key to Beverly's survival.
*********
Dr. Selar greeted Picard and Romak as they entered sickbay. She nodded in deference to the elder Vulcan and offered the traditional salutation, which the man returned. Once done, she escorted them to where Crusher lay, now moved off into a softly lit and more private area of the main bay. They had not completely isolated her, hoping that the stimulation would aid her recovery.
Picard's heart stilled just a bit as he approached the bed. Involuntarily his hand went to his chest, which was still sore from the stab wound. What scared him more than seeing Beverly so violent toward him was knowing that something had to be profoundly wrong with her to act that way. He stood before the Doctor and placed a hand gently over hers. She appeared as though in a deep slumber, her hair splayed out on the pillow behind her.
Romak turned to Selar, who had joined them. "Has she shown any improvement?" The Captain turned as well, his face still but his eyes hopeful.
Selar shook her head. "She has stabilized again, but her brain activity is not as promising as when she first arrived." Picard nodded wordlessly. Selar retreated back into the main bay.
The Governor approached the bed, and took up Crusher's other hand. It was an oddly intimate gesture, and again Picard felt a bit uncomfortable with the situation. The man's face became more graven as he stood at Beverly's side. Jean-Luc had a feeling there was more to the situation than Romak had initially indicated.
"Governor, is there something you haven't told us?" Picard's countenance was stern, and his posture indicated he expected a forthright answer. Romak sighed and released Beverly's hand. He began to walk away, and motioned for Picard to follow. They stepped out of earshot of the unconscious Doctor.
"A week before we discovered the Ambassador, one of his aids was admitted to a hospital in the capital city. He showed symptoms very similar to Doctor Crusher's." Picard's expression did not change, but his jaw set more firmly. He waited for the man to continue. "He died another week later." Romak leaned forward and grasped Picard's arm. "Captain, I am sorry." Our coroners determined that he and the Ambassador died from the same cause."
Again Picard nodded, this time more vigorously. "There is nothing to be sorry for yet, Governor. I believe there is a woman out there who holds a key to this mystery. And I intend to find her." Picard extended his arm toward the sickbay doors, and the two men moved off. Picard glanced back quickly before the doors swished shut. He did indeed intend to have a conversation with this mystery woman.
*********
Picard walked quickly onto the bridge. "Mr. Worf - report."
The burly Klingon leaned back on his heels and tapped the aft panel where he stood. "The Vulcans have transmitted all the information they have on the Ambassador's death. There is strong reason to believe that the woman has not left the planet." His lip curled. Clearly he was ready to begin the hunt. "Request permission to take an away team to the surface."
"Very well. Coordinate with Vulcan authorities and beam down with four crew members. I expect another report in two hours." Picard snapped his uniform down and sat rigidly in his chair. Romak's words had started an internal clock in Picard's head, and he could almost hear the seconds ticking off.
"Aye, sir." Worf picked up a padd and moved to the aft science station, where Data was pouring over data. The crew's priority was clear.
*********
Three hours later Picard was anxious to hear from his security chief. He had retreated to and returned from his ready room. As he prepared to page the Lieutenant Commander, the comm. channel blipped. An ensign spoke from opps. "I have an incoming transmission from the planet, sir."
"Onscreen, Ensign." Picard stood as Worf appeared on the screen.
"I hope you have good news for me, Lieutenant." Picard was not encouraged by the set of the Klingon's brow.
"Our search has been difficult. But we have made progress. I have already questioned two suspects who I believe were in contact with the woman. We now have a last known location and are preparing to depart from the capital." As usual his tone was clipped and low.
Picard clasped his hands behind his back. "Very well, Mr. Worf. Report back as soon as you have any news."
"Aye sir." Worf nodded and the transmission ended.
Again Picard touched his side tenderly as he headed toward his ready room. He had sent a communiqué to Starfleet Headquarters requesting a reassignment for the Enterprise while they investigated the source of Doctor Crusher's illness. He had been quite firm in his wording, and was granted wide discretion. Now all that occupied his time was waiting.
*********
Accompanied by four Enterprise security personnel and four Vulcan security officers, Worf entered the home of the young woman that had accompanied the Ambassador the evening in question. They'd sent a profile to the Enterprise to confirm her identity with Picard, and had trekked overland for an hour to get to the remote location. From the looks of it, the small house had been abandoned for some time.
"Search the premises. Be thorough." Worf was emphatic in his last statement.
He moved through the kitchen and living room and down a short hallway. He opened a door on his left, which was a small office, empty. He turned to his right and opened the door. He was at once affronted with an extremely offensive odor. They had found their suspect. And she would not be speaking to them any time soon - or ever.
*********
Morning of the Magicians
Five
*********
Beverly Crusher looked intently around the ornate lobby. Jean-Luc had departed some time ago for the bar, and she stood leaning against the railing of the grand staircase. She and the captain were seated on the balcony. Picard had been working for months to get these tickets. It was a command performance of the master Vulcan symphony orchestra, and they were lucky to be as far forward as they were. Crusher was giddy with anticipation. Already they'd had a splendid meal, and she reveled in the air of romance that hung about the entire night.
She'd worn her most formal evening dress. Off the shoulder and midnight blue, it fit her tightly through the bodice and fell in an elegant A-line down to her ankles. It went quite nicely with the gilding that surrounded her in the ancient building. Vast murals held her attention for minutes on end, and she broke only to take in the rest of the crowd. Each couple was well dressed and seemed as breathlessly excited as she and Jean-Luc. The performance was a survey of ceremonial music from throughout the quadrant, and all reviews promised a show that would not disappoint. She smiled broadly as she saw Picard approaching, absolutely dashing in his white tie and coattails.
He offered her a flute of champagne and his arm, and she took both. Though Crusher had spent the last few minutes admiring her fellow concert-goers, quite a few heads turned as two of the Federation's most speculated-about and alluring officers made their way up the staircase arm in arm........
*********
Hours after the drama in the Captain's quarters, Deanna sat at Beverly's side listening to the steady beeping of the biobed. Again she opened her mind to try and sense anything from her friend, who was now in a deep state of unconsciousness, practically a coma. A few feet away, Picard lay stabilized on his own bed, recovering well from minor surgery to repair slight damage to his lung. His chest rose and fell slowly and steadily, almost in time with the Doctor's.
Will appeared from Crusher's office where he had been attending to ships business reassigning personnel to compensate for the loss of the Captain and physician. He approached Deanna, wiping a hand down his face and through his beard. His own injuries had been insignificant but painful and he looked exhausted. He looked to Deanna in anticipation. She shook her head. They had been unable to revive the Doctor, and Troi was unable to reach her. It was now simply a matter of waiting.
*********
........As the overture began, Picard met Crusher's eyes and took her hand. He clutched it firmly for a moment and they smiled at each other, listening to the minors and majors fall into tune. Both were excited about the performance, but Jean-Luc was ecstatic, and in an excellent mood. They turned and nodded as people filed down the aisle to sit next to them. Picard recognized a prominent Vulcan ambassador and rose to greet him. Beverly smiled at this companion as she settled in next to her.
The hall erupted in applause as the conductor appeared, then settled in quietly as the concert began with an ancient Terran shaker melody. The program was a virtual musical tour of the quadrant, with emphasis on Vulcan and Terran composers. Beverly crossed her legs and looked over again at Jean-Luc, who was already enraptured. She turned her attention forward again and clasped her hands in her lap.
*********
Dr. Selar hovered over Crusher, taking another set of useless readings. She chastised herself for her own illogical actions and snapped the tricorder shut. There was no change in the CMO's status - there had not been for the past day.
Picard, however, was doing quite well and was scheduled for release this afternoon, pending a round of light physical therapy. He reclined on his biobed, trying in vain to read a padd Riker had dropped by that morning. It was useless. His attention repeatedly turned to Beverly. What in the world had happened?
He replayed last evening over and over in his head. Speaking with Deanna, the two felt quite certain the Crusher's behavior and subsequent coma were directly tied to the blackouts she'd been suffering. Troi was emphatic that Beverly had been subject to hypnotic suggestion, but was unable to bring her out of it. Picard actually expected the Counsellor in sickbay any minute - they had only discussed yesterday's events briefly, and she was going to question Picard more thoroughly to see if they could uncover any significant details. It was critical to determine when Beverly had been 'tampered' with, and by whom. Troi worried that without finding that out, they may never get Crusher back.
Gazing over at the beautiful prone form of his best friend, Picard sincerely hoped that they would.
*********
.......The last strains of the opening overture faded away, and the orchestra began its next piece, Schubert's Ave Maria. Jean-Luc leaned over and whispered to the Doctor. "I'm quite intrigued to hear this piece - it's said to be one of the best."
Crusher inclined her head, nodding. It was indeed a stunning piece, and she listened intently to the rise and fall of the central melody. The woman beside her started, and Crusher looked over as her neighbor touched her ear with concern. She looked down and mouthed "my earring fell out." Beverly smiled and bent to help her look. She was slightly miffed at the distraction and strained to hear as she ran her hands along the carpet.
Suddenly she felt a sharp prick. Well, she'd found the damn thing. She grabbed it and sat up. As she did so, she turned it over in her hands, and blinked furiously as the light caught the sparkling diamond and flashed in her eyes. She let out a small "ooh." Picard looked over in concern, but Beverly was entranced by the object.
The woman beside her held out her hand, and Crusher dropped the earring in absentmindedly. The Doctor gave up the trinket reluctantly as the woman smiled demurely in gratitude. Beverly returned a tight-lipped grin. The young woman rose and began making her way down the row. Without knowing why, Beverly stood to follow her. Again, Picard turned in consternation, his eyes curious.
Beverly turned and quietly answered. "I'll be right back." Her tone was distracted. Still caught up in the music, Picard dismissed the scene and turned forward.
*********
"Captain, is there anything you can tell me about your interactions with the Doctor after the rest of us left the other evening?" Troi sat beside Picard's biobed, legs and arms crossed, her brow furrowed in concentration.
Picard exhaled loudly and ran a hand over his head. When he answered, his tone was clipped. "I sat to have another piece of cake while Beverly cleared the dishes. She returned to the living room and requested I retrieve another bottle of wine, which I did. When I returned to the room, I noticed that she seemed somehow different........ distracted. And she was humming to herself."
Troi's eyes fired and her interest piqued. "Was she humming the song, 'Ave Maria?'"
Picard looked to Troi in animated surprise. "Yes, Counselor. How did you know?" Picard looked over again at Crusher as she lay on the biobed. He turned back to Troi. "Is it significant?"
"Yes sir. She'd been complaining for some time that the tune was stuck in her head. That at times she could hear nothing else." Now Troi looked over at her friend. "I believe that song is the key to this mystery. Captain, can you think of why it may be significant to her?"
Picard sat quietly, his concentration focused. He snapped his fingers suddenly. "Yes. Yes, that's it." He turned to Troi. "It was a central piece in a symphony we attended not too long ago. But I can't think why that particular song caught in her head. She didn't even mention it after the concert."
It was now the Counselor's turn to sit quietly. What was the connection? "Was there anything unusual you can remember about the concert?"
Picard cast himself back, remembering the evening. It had been lovely. Dinner, the symphony. It had been hard to leave Beverly at her door that night. Unconsciously he smiled at the memory. Troi was cheered too by the warm feelings coming from the Captain.
Realizing where he was and who he was with, Picard brought himself back to the subject at hand. Other than the remarkably enjoyable performance and his lovely companion, there was nothing that stood out in his memory. He shook his head in frustration.
Troi sensed the Captain's mood and took his hand in both of hers. "Relax sir. Think back. Remember how you felt during the piece. Play each note in your head."
*********
Beverly followed the woman out of the hall and into the corridor, and finally into the ladies' lounge, which was deserted.
As they entered, the woman turned to Crusher, whose head was growing increasingly fuzzy. The song that Picard had been so fond of was still playing in her head. She remained silent, but continued to stare at the young Vulcan.
The woman turned and smiled, locking Crusher's eyes. "Excellent." She began to speak, but Crusher was unable to distinguish the words. Only the song remained in her head.
*********
Troi sensed the Captain regain his control immediately. Picard cast his mind back to their evening on Vulcan months ago. He looked again at Beverly and remembered the feeling of sitting, listening to the music. He wondered if she were enjoying it as much as he. Suddenly, he felt agitated. Beverly was moving around next to him. He looked up as she stood. Something had transpired between her and the woman next to her. He wondered why she was leaving in the middle of the piece, but she seemed distracted - so he turned back to the concert.
He related the memory to Troi. True, it seemed insignificant. "She seemed a bit edgy when she returned, but I honestly wasn't paying attention."
Troi walked over to where Beverly lay. Picard stood and joined her. They spoke over the rise and fall of the Doctor's chest. "I can't say I know what happened, sir. But this is the only lead we've got. Did you know the couple you were sitting next to?"
Picard nodded emphatically. "The man was Ambassador Menar from Vulcan. I do not know who his companion was. You're right Counselor - this is our only lead. And we're going to follow it." He stood quietly resolute for a moment. "Tell Will I'll be joining him on the bridge shortly. And have him set course for the Vulcan home world. Warp 5." His steely eyes met Deanna's and he turned without further discussion, headed for his quarters to change into his uniform. Whatever the hell had happened to Crusher, they were going to get to the bottom of it.
*********
Picard stood on the bridge, an air of authority and frustration looming about him. His movements were concise and accurate, and his responses short. Riker and the bridge crew had taken to addressing him only out of necessity. They had been en route to Vulcan for a full day. Picard had sent a communiqué yesterday to Ambassador Menar and had not yet heard back. They'd repeated the hail this morning, and were still only answered by an automated service, informing them that the Ambassador was "not available." Picard was clearly agitated.
Picard stood and tugged sharply at his uniform. He glanced over his shoulder to Riker. "Commander. I will be in my ready room." He stalked off the bridge. Riker glanced back and he and Worf exchanged knowing glances. Troi was still in sickbay, where she kept a frequent vigil over Beverly between patients. The Doctor was not improving - to the contrary, her brain activity was decreasing.
Riker drummed his fingers at the console of this chair. He stood and traced Picard's route to the ready room and pressed the chime.
"Come." Picard swiveled in his chair. He felt he'd made it clear he did not wish to be disturbed. His face reflected his aggravation.
"Captain. I'd like to contact Starfleet and put in a request for permission to raise to warp 8." Riker stood at attention. Picard's sentiment was not lost on him.
Jean-Luc stood and walked out from behind his desk. He regarded Will silently for a moment. Though Riker had been working with Picard for years, and considered him a friend, the effect was still unnerving. The man was absolutely unreadable at times. He stood waiting.
Picard crossed his arms and brought his hand to his chin, meeting Will's eyes. "Make it so, Number One." He returned to his chair and sat, his back to Riker.
Will was hardly offended. His posture relaxed and he exhaled, turning to leave. Before he reached the door, he heard Picard turn. "Thank you, Will."
Riker smiled to himself and continued out the door. They would be to Vulcan by beta shift. And they would be getting some answers.
*********
In sickbay, Deanna watched Beverly. She could not interpret the signs over the biobed, but she knew that they were not good. She spoke to the Doctor frequently, and several crew members had been by to 'visit' throughout the day. Picard had been by as well several times since his release. He had been quite shy, but at Troi's urging had opened up and told Crusher numerous stories about his day and his memories. It had been endearing. But it had not made a difference. Wherever Beverly was, she was moving farther and farther away from them.
*********
..........She then felt Picard tense against her and responded instantly. Her first strike was lethal. She knew his body inside and out, every square inch. She had worked with it for years, placed her hands inside his chest to touch and heal the quivering tissue, and then closed the wounds herself. There was nothing of his physique she did not know, and her surgeon's precision did not fail. She struck smoothly and swiftly without looking down, her ice blue eyes locked on his dark hazel........
Without stepping back she slid the knife out. The sound of the composition was massive, hypnotic. Still pressed firmly against him, she felt a hot rush of blood on her own chest. It was as though she were on fire. She felt it spread to her abdomen. He was bleeding profusely now, but it would not be for long as his heart was no longer pumping. Though the volume of the music in her head was now slowly decreasing, the cello still played the agonizing central theme. The angelic voice of the woman was silent, and Beverly longed for it to return.........
Still the music played in her head and she hummed quietly, studying his eyes curiously and intently as they dimmed. She had seen life steal away from a person before, but had always been too distracted by efforts to bring it back to every truly savor and understand the moment. She waited patiently until she saw the very last of the light flicker out of his eyes. She stepped back and watched as he slid down the wall and crumpled on the floor. He did not move.........
She picked up the glass of wine Jean-Luc had poured only moments earlier. She sank down lightly on the sofa and crossed her long, slender legs. She gazed at the far wall and took a sip. It was indeed an amazing vintage, and she held it up to the stars to study the patterns of light it cast off. A full-bodied merlot, it was almost exactly the color of Picard's blood- soaked tunic. She glanced again at his still form. The voice of the woman had returned and the music filled her. Closing her eyes, she sighed. She leaned back against the sofa and let oblivion wash over her.
Hours later she woke with a start, stiff in her position on the couch. Confused, Beverly looked around furiously, only to see Picard's cold and now stiff form slumped against the wall. The events from last night rushed into her head, and slowly, quietly, the strains of the Ave Maria picked up in her head. She moaned in agony and dropped her head into her hands. "No. No. NO NO. Stop. Stop. STOP." She stood and staggered to the dining table, where the crimson-stained knife glared up at her. She picked it up in one hand and ran her index finger across with another. It was tacky with dried blood. She held it up to the light and turned, staggering back over to Picard.
She knelt down again and touched his face. It was cool and she was surprised that there was no stubble. She hummed quietly, and a profound ache filled her heart. Tears ran down her face. She had not wanted to kill him, and she did not want to do this. But she would. She could see what would transpire. Her heart was cold with fear, but she saw it all. She sobbed as she looked down at Picard. Holding the knife firmly, she knelt on both knees before him.
*********
Jean-Luc Picard stood before the Vulcan governor. "He's been murdered?" His face was ashen. He could see the trail growing cold before him. They would lose Beverly. He despaired for a moment before feeling confidence rush over him. They would prevail - he bent all his will toward it. "Governor, I have a number of questions, which I need answered. I respectfully request that you join me on the Enterprise, where I can more thoroughly explain the situation." Governor Romak regarded Picard levelly. "Of course Captain. I will assist in any way I can."
"Very well. My thanks to you, Governor." He turned from the screen as the transmission ended. "Mr. Data, please arrange for the Governor to meet us in transporter room three." He stalked to the aft lift. "Number One, you're with me."
Riker stood silently and joined Picard in the lift. The doors closed on two very serious looking men.
*********
They regrouped in the observation lounge momentarily. Picard sat at the head of the table and indicated for Will and the Governor to join him. "Governor, I apologize for the abrupt and unceremonial nature of our visit."
"There is no need to apologize, Captain. The circumstance you describe is cause for alarm, and casts even more shadow over the events surrounding the Ambassador's death." The Governor steepled his hands.
Picard shifted in his seat and crossed his legs, his brow deeply furrowed. "You have our attention Governor - please continue."
"The Ambassador, for lack of a better word, 'disappeared' about a month ago. He missed two prominent engagements. The council was concerned and sent personnel to investigate his home. We found him there. He had been dead for approximately two weeks." The politician's tone was somber. Menar had been new to the Ambassadorship, but was well respected on Vulcan. His murder had been cause for alarm, and they had been at a complete loss to explain it.
"That roughly fits the timeline for your meeting at the symphony." Riker turned to Picard, who sat rigidly, arms on the table.
"Indeed." Picard questioned the grey haired Vulcan beside him. "Governor. Do you know the whereabouts of the Ambassador's young companion the evening of the command performance of the Vulcan symphony?"
The man raised an eyebrow. "It is curious you ask, Captain. Vulcan authorities are quite interested in that same question. She is the last known person to be seen with the Ambassador - the night of the performance you mention."
Picard sat back. "There are far too many coincidences here, gentleman." He grasped the arms of his chair. "Will, have Worf coordinate with Vulcan security personnel. Finding that woman is our number one priority. Governor - thank you for your help." Picard rose and extended his hand.
"Captain, if I may, I would like to see Doctor Crusher." The Governor stood, arms behind his back. His features were surprisingly warm for a Vulcan, and age had softened the angle of his jaw and brow. Though Picard was quite uncomfortable with the request, he was willing to grant it. He nodded his head and the Governor followed him through the aft doors. Will returned to the bridge to begin the search for the woman they hoped held the key to Beverly's survival.
*********
Dr. Selar greeted Picard and Romak as they entered sickbay. She nodded in deference to the elder Vulcan and offered the traditional salutation, which the man returned. Once done, she escorted them to where Crusher lay, now moved off into a softly lit and more private area of the main bay. They had not completely isolated her, hoping that the stimulation would aid her recovery.
Picard's heart stilled just a bit as he approached the bed. Involuntarily his hand went to his chest, which was still sore from the stab wound. What scared him more than seeing Beverly so violent toward him was knowing that something had to be profoundly wrong with her to act that way. He stood before the Doctor and placed a hand gently over hers. She appeared as though in a deep slumber, her hair splayed out on the pillow behind her.
Romak turned to Selar, who had joined them. "Has she shown any improvement?" The Captain turned as well, his face still but his eyes hopeful.
Selar shook her head. "She has stabilized again, but her brain activity is not as promising as when she first arrived." Picard nodded wordlessly. Selar retreated back into the main bay.
The Governor approached the bed, and took up Crusher's other hand. It was an oddly intimate gesture, and again Picard felt a bit uncomfortable with the situation. The man's face became more graven as he stood at Beverly's side. Jean-Luc had a feeling there was more to the situation than Romak had initially indicated.
"Governor, is there something you haven't told us?" Picard's countenance was stern, and his posture indicated he expected a forthright answer. Romak sighed and released Beverly's hand. He began to walk away, and motioned for Picard to follow. They stepped out of earshot of the unconscious Doctor.
"A week before we discovered the Ambassador, one of his aids was admitted to a hospital in the capital city. He showed symptoms very similar to Doctor Crusher's." Picard's expression did not change, but his jaw set more firmly. He waited for the man to continue. "He died another week later." Romak leaned forward and grasped Picard's arm. "Captain, I am sorry." Our coroners determined that he and the Ambassador died from the same cause."
Again Picard nodded, this time more vigorously. "There is nothing to be sorry for yet, Governor. I believe there is a woman out there who holds a key to this mystery. And I intend to find her." Picard extended his arm toward the sickbay doors, and the two men moved off. Picard glanced back quickly before the doors swished shut. He did indeed intend to have a conversation with this mystery woman.
*********
Picard walked quickly onto the bridge. "Mr. Worf - report."
The burly Klingon leaned back on his heels and tapped the aft panel where he stood. "The Vulcans have transmitted all the information they have on the Ambassador's death. There is strong reason to believe that the woman has not left the planet." His lip curled. Clearly he was ready to begin the hunt. "Request permission to take an away team to the surface."
"Very well. Coordinate with Vulcan authorities and beam down with four crew members. I expect another report in two hours." Picard snapped his uniform down and sat rigidly in his chair. Romak's words had started an internal clock in Picard's head, and he could almost hear the seconds ticking off.
"Aye, sir." Worf picked up a padd and moved to the aft science station, where Data was pouring over data. The crew's priority was clear.
*********
Three hours later Picard was anxious to hear from his security chief. He had retreated to and returned from his ready room. As he prepared to page the Lieutenant Commander, the comm. channel blipped. An ensign spoke from opps. "I have an incoming transmission from the planet, sir."
"Onscreen, Ensign." Picard stood as Worf appeared on the screen.
"I hope you have good news for me, Lieutenant." Picard was not encouraged by the set of the Klingon's brow.
"Our search has been difficult. But we have made progress. I have already questioned two suspects who I believe were in contact with the woman. We now have a last known location and are preparing to depart from the capital." As usual his tone was clipped and low.
Picard clasped his hands behind his back. "Very well, Mr. Worf. Report back as soon as you have any news."
"Aye sir." Worf nodded and the transmission ended.
Again Picard touched his side tenderly as he headed toward his ready room. He had sent a communiqué to Starfleet Headquarters requesting a reassignment for the Enterprise while they investigated the source of Doctor Crusher's illness. He had been quite firm in his wording, and was granted wide discretion. Now all that occupied his time was waiting.
*********
Accompanied by four Enterprise security personnel and four Vulcan security officers, Worf entered the home of the young woman that had accompanied the Ambassador the evening in question. They'd sent a profile to the Enterprise to confirm her identity with Picard, and had trekked overland for an hour to get to the remote location. From the looks of it, the small house had been abandoned for some time.
"Search the premises. Be thorough." Worf was emphatic in his last statement.
He moved through the kitchen and living room and down a short hallway. He opened a door on his left, which was a small office, empty. He turned to his right and opened the door. He was at once affronted with an extremely offensive odor. They had found their suspect. And she would not be speaking to them any time soon - or ever.
*********