Chapter 39

The Laboratory

The tapping had ceased a long time ago. Hours, days, what did it matter? The tapping had been his last link to being human-it was an emergency code he and the other person had been familiar with. They were both once Starfleet officers before they'd ended up here. They had shared that in common. Just as they shared this predicament. This violation. At least they had shared it until the tapping had stopped. He replayed the last message in his brain over and over again. This is Selar. They are coming for me. You must stay alive. Then a rush of the suspension fluid onto the floor and a clamor of shouts, and the sound of limbs slipping all over the floor. She's fighting them. Then silence.

Now as he floated, drugged and barely conscious he remembered and wished he could simply hear the tapping again, and feel that connection. He wished for any sound, any reminder that he was human. Until he heard it. Another kind of tapping, slow and lazy on the outside of the glass tube which was his home. His legs began to flail involuntarily. The tap came again.

"LaForge, you might be wondering about the others...the Vulcan especially? The answer is; I let them go. I captured their DNA, enough for many, many duplicates if I so wish. So...now you are wondering, 'when will Doctor Petral set me free?' The answer is, not until I am forced to, because you see you are nothing but a lure. Soon, very soon your colleagues will realize that you are still alive, and they will come valiantly to your rescue. And then I shall have my newest bride."

April 2354

"Jean-Luc, unlock the goddamn door!"

"Go away," he muttered again, rolling the empty wine bottle back and forth across his kitchen table under his hand. He'd almost drifted off to sleep, his cheek resting against the tabletop.

"This is crazy, the ceremony is happening in 45 minutes...open this door."

He dropped his head into his hands, before waving his hand up at the ceiling. "Computer override personal security module."

Out of breath and soaking wet, Captain Walker Keel fell, rather than walked into Picard's tiny apartment. His full weight had been pressed against the door when it swung inward, and he staggered, only just keeping himself from a face plant. He stood there glaring at his friend, chest heaving from having ran up a very steep series of hills in the driving rain. "The hills," he gasped, still trying to catch his breath. "I always forget about the hills in San Francisco."

Picard turned slowly in his seat to regard his friend. "What are you doing here?"

"I've been trying to call you for three days. Are you giving the eulogy today or not?"

Picard wiped a hand over his face. "I can't do this, Walker."

Keel flopped down in the chair next to him, and began trying to wring his suit dry. "What do you mean you can't? You already wrote it, didn't you?"

He nodded slowly. "Yes. But I can't get up there and speak. I simply cannot look at her."

Walker leaned forward. "Then don't...just don't make eye contact with her."

"It's not that simple anymore. I can't face her."

Walker glanced at the empty wine bottle. "The vineyard's finest, I see."

"I was going to give it to Jack...to them for their anniversary this summer."

"You can't even say her name, can you?" Walker looked at his friend with growing sympathy. "It's obvious you are drowning in guilt, but it's not doing anyone any good. Beverly is going to be there, and you will need to face her. That's what we do at times like this. Jesus...after all you're the one who taught me to always face things head on."

"She hates me," Picard whispered, seeming to ignore his friend. "She has every right to..."

"Why? Talk to me."

Picard shook his head. "No." He felt tears begin to burn in his eyes and he turned away with embarrassment.

Walker put a hand on his shoulder. "You're drunk...all the more reason I should give the eulogy instead. Let me see what you wrote." Walker grabbed a data pad next to Jean-Luc's elbow. Quickly reading, he tossed the pad back down exasperated. "You can't read this, that's for sure. It reads like a a confession. Jean-Luc, you were cleared of any responsibility for Jack's death."

Jean-Luc stared at Walker through watery eyes. "Officially. Unofficially...I'm not so sure about that."

"What are you talking about-you tried to save Jack, but it was a horrible, horrible accident." He suddenly grabbed his friend's hand, and didn't let go when Picard tried to pull away. "Listen to me... we're all hurting from this, Beverly and Wesley most of all. You can't let them down."

"I already have!" Picard suddenly exploded, smashing the wine bottle on the table.

Walker jumped up from the table, his friend now staring down absently at the broken glass.

Walker leaned down. "This is eventually what happens when you bottle everything up, Jean-Luc."

"For better or for worse, it's the way I am."

"No kidding." Walker sat back down slowly. "This isn't just about Jack...I know that, and you know that."

Jean-Luc merely stared at Walker with an almost defiant look. He had no intention of re-hashing his feelings for Beverly with Walker again. Walker was right though. He needed to break out of his depression and become reliable once more...if only for one evening. He resolved then that after the funeral he would request an extended leave. The fact that there had been no court martial, didn't matter. He needed to escape, and had no intention of returning to his command. Not yet.

"Go ahead and stay silent for now. I can't afford to lose the friendship the three of us share. Not now that Jack is gone. Be warned that when all of this is over, you and I are going to talk about this thing between you and Beverly."

Picard made a face. "Come on, Walker..that was simply in my head... a fantasy from the past. Nothing more."

"Really? You should see yourself here in the present...in real time. You're a mess. You might be fooling everyone else, but not me."

Picard gave a sharp laugh before he got up and walked away from the table, to grab his coat. "You win. Let's go."

"Good, my tactic worked." Walker jumped up from his seat. "Let's get out of here." Jean Luc was already out the door, and he hurried to catch up. Once they were in step, he raised the subject again.

"She doesn't hate you, but I know for a fact that she wanted answers about Jack's death that Command would not give her. And neither would you-"

Picard looked over at Walker sharply, abruptly slowing his pace. "Is that what she told you? That I wouldn't tell her?"

"You have to admit you basically went silent for the last two weeks..."

"I didn't go silent Walker...I've been under investigation..."

"Then I'm sure she'll understand when you tell her."

"Walker, I don't think that I-"

Walker cut him off, smooth as ever. "Anyway..she came to me, and I snuck her a copy of the mission report. She knows everything now, and she knows you did your best to save our friend."

Picard halted, grabbed Walker by the front of his coat and shook him. "Enough! I don't want to discuss this again, Walker...I mean it."

Walker grabbed his wrist roughly. "You can't prevent the rest of us from talking about Jack...what he meant to us."

Regretting his erratic behavior, he let go of Walker's coat. "I'm sorry...that's not what I meant to say..."

"But you did mean that you want to be alone in your grief and anger...well it doesn't work that way, old friend. If Beverly wants to know what really happened to Jack, then you can damn well bet she's going to find out the truth."

The truth...

He sat straight up with a gasp. Jean-Luc had fallen asleep in his uniform on top of his sheets. He swung his legs over the side and gruffly demanded to know the time. The computer replied: 0600 hours.

Time to get up anyway, and face what is to come. He rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly and saw that he'd fallen asleep with the data pad next to him. The one that held the eulogy for Geordi LaForge.

"Mom, I don't think I can go tonight."

Beverly paused over her cup of coffee. She realized they had both been silent over breakfast. She put her cup down and looked closely at her son. His features were drawn and there were dark circles underneath his eyes. "Wesley, of course I won't force you to go. Do you want to talk about it?"

The teen shrugged and slumped over his cereal. "I don't understand how it could have happened...how could he have just-just died?"

Beverly clasped her hands underneath her chin, and attempted an answer. Of course she had done the post-mortem examination herself, but frustratingly there were no clear answers why Geordi LaForge had sustained a fatal heart attack. "The best answer I can give, Wes, is that Geordi disappeared under unclear circumstances, and while he was gone, something horrible happened to him. When he returned he was not the same. He'd been injured..I tried to heal him, but it's possible that I missed something." She felt a sense of guilt she hadn't before, now faced with her son, who had grown close to LaForge in just a short time.

Wesley's eyes narrowed and his tone grew bitter. "It's not your fault, Mom. The Ciapathians kidnapped him...just like they did the others."

"The Captain certainly believes that is what happened."

""But he can't prove it...if I could help him find the truth, I would."

She smiled. "I know you would, Wes."

"Don't tell him that, though," he added quickly.

She sighed. "Your secret is safe with me. But I would have thought you and he were on a more conversational basis after having that heart-to heart the other night."

"Uh...I wouldn't actually call it that."

She tried to dampen her curiosity but could not. Picking up her coffee again she prompted him to continue. "Oh?"

"Everything was fine until I started asking him about his love life."

She coughed and put her coffee down clumsily. "What?"

He leaned back and appealed to the ceiling. "Mom, I'm so embarrassed!"

"Um...it's alright, Wes. I know that Hatha leaving has affected you deeply, and and that's why you asked him personal questions, right?"

Wesley nodded, but still looked anxious.

"Wes, I'm sure he was fine. He's got other things on his mind now anyway."

Wesley grew sad once more. "Is Captain Picard going to give the speech tonight?"

"The eulogy? Yes, as the commanding officer it's his duty."

"That must be hard."

"Yes."

"...so he was the commanding officer when Dad died." There was a long pause, and his gaze dropped to the table. "What did he say about Dad? All I remember is Dad's face and how hard it was raining that day."

To her surprise, tears sprang to her eyes. She took her napkin and dabbed at her cheek. "Yes it was really pouring wasn't it?"

Wesley reached out his hand apologetically. "Sorry Mom, I shouldn't have brought it up."

She took his hand and squeezed it tightly. "No, no, it's okay. You have the right to know anything i can tell you about your father. It's just that...well Jean-Luc didn't give the eulogy for Jack. Walker did."

"Why?"

She stared into the distance for a few moments, then shook her head. "Something happened...I don't really remember. All I know is that he was expected to do it, and didn't." She rubbed her arms, feeling a chill she hadn't felt in years. "I was...very, very angry then. It took everything I had to get through that ceremony. If it wasn't for Walker during the first few months after Jack died, I don't know what I would have done."

"Who were you angry at? I thought it was an accident."

"I was angry at the universe I guess. For taking Jack away from me...from us, in such a cruel and arbitrary way. And at Starfleet..."

"Were you mad at Captain Picard?"

She let a small smile slip, as she watched Wesley's perceptive brown eyes and remembered a five year old boy. And in the next split second she recalled Jean-Luc leaving without saying goodbye properly. She felt almost as new that humiliating urge to follow him out the door, as he slipped silently out of her home full of mourners. Back in the present, the smile left her lips. She hugged herself, and leaned against the table. "Yes."

"But why?"

After all these years she couldn't explain it to herself, let alone to her son. Still, she tried. "He distanced himself from me, even from Walker, after Jack was killed. It was a shock, and it happened at a time when I needed support." She shrugged and looked at the wall, wondering why it still mattered so much to her. "He wasn't there for me."

Try her again. Do your duty, Captain.

He reached out to tap the computer screen, which responded in a mellow voice. "Resuming call."

The distracted face of a very striking middle-aged woman suddenly graced the screen. Captain Silva LaForge blinked twice before recognition set in, but her gaze was questioning. "Captain Picard?"

He adjusted his features appropriately, but his words came out too quickly. "Captain LaForge...I apologize for interrupting your travels, I've been trying to contact you for two days now."

"We've been out in deep space studying a series of nebulae, Captain...there must have been some kind of subspace interference...of course, you understand."

"Of course."

"I appreciate the call, but what can I do for you?"

He cleared his throat. "Captain...I regret to inform you that there has been a terrible incident involving Lieutenant LaForge."

She moved closer to the screen. "Geordi? Captain, what's happened to my son?"

Doctor Crusher's voice drifted in his head. The results of the post-mortem exam are inconclusive, Captain...but it appears that cardiac arrest was the cause of death. It's unthinkable, that such a thing would happen. It makes absolutely no sense.

"Silva...Geordi sustained a heart attack. He died two days ago."

"A heart attack? But...how could such a thing have happened?"

"We are still piecing it together, Captain, but I assure you-I promise you, that I will have answers for you the next time we speak."

She slumped backward in her chair. "Captain Picard...what answer could possibly make me feel better about my son dying? After only less than one month into his Enterprise tour...he was so excited," she trailed off and looked away.

"He was a fine officer...I am so sorry."

Her professional facade returned suddenly as she faced him again. "You'll have a service for him on board?"

He nodded. "Yes. Is there anything in particular you would like me to say?"

She shook her head sadly. "I'll make arrangements for his body to be returned home to Earth and we will have a service there in a few days."

"Is there anything...anything at all I can do?"

"No. You've done your duty, Captain," she allowed. "LaForge out."

"Captain De Soto of the Hood sends his condolences, sir. The messages have been pouring in over the last few hours, Captain. Do you want them sent to your personal computer?"

Picard ceased rubbing his forehead for a moment and glanced up at the young ensign. He tried to keep too much of the gruffness out of his voice, but probably did not succeed. "No. But please coordinate with Counselor Troi. It may be appropriate to display some of those at the ceremony tonight." The officer stood there awkwardly for a moment as though wanting to say something, but couldn't find the words. "That will be all for now, Ensign," said the captain as gently as possible.

He watched as the man left his ready room, very aware that he needed to say something at the funeral ceremony which would allow the crew to begin to heal, but for now, had nothing. To be struck by this kind of loss so early in their journey seemed for the moment insurmountable. Unfortunately he had experienced loss of crew members and colleagues at multiple points in his career. Each time he steeled himself to not feel the pain and sorrow, but it never really worked. It had been just eleven years since Jack's violent death, and at times he could not avoid thinking about his friend and his continued anger at how such a life could have been cut short.

Incoming message from the Ciapathian Citadel.

"On screen," he said with more than a note of surprise. His hand curled into a tense fist, as the screen wavered and a familiar face appeared. "Del," he said flatly.

The stout Ciapathian leader got right to the point. "I've been considering your offer, Captain Picard."

Picard tilted his head as though trying to hear better. "Excuse me if I don't recall."

"You offered to help me find the truth about Doctor Petral. To expose his evil to my people..."

"To use an old Earth expression, Premier Del, that ship has sailed. You made sure of that when you convinced Admiral Forrester to take the young Tranan man into your custody by force."

The jowly red face leaned into the screen. "Forrester didn't need much convincing, Picard. He had an agenda, I tell you."

Picard was visibly unmoved, although the mention of Forrester made his stomach roil. "Regardless of either of your motives you caused harm to that young man and the other Tranan people. They are permanently traumatized by the loss of Li."

"What if I told you that it is possible for the Tranan boy to be returned to your care?"

"I don't play games that involve the lives of others, Del. Of all things about me, you should know that by now. Now out with it," he nearly shouted. "What do you want?"

"I need your help. I need your help to take down Petral. He's amassed far too much power."

"Your a Federation member now, Del, take it up with the Council."

"But-"

"I'm afraid recent events take precedence over my interest in the affairs of your world," he said shortly. An image of Geordi LaForge's still form shrouded in the darkness of the Enterprise morgue was fixed in his mind. He reached out to cut the connection. "Picard out."