Chapter 40

Beverly stopped by her quarters at lunchtime, and Wesley appeared to be busy at her work desk building some kind of contraption. School had been called off for the day in honor of Geordi LaForge's funeral, but Wesley's intelligent mind still needed stimulation, not to mention distraction from recent events.

"What are you working on? Something for school?" She approached and put a hand on his shoulder. He looked up startled, but then shrugged, embarassed.

He quickly shoved a small data pad out of the way, and began fiddling with his science project. Beverly eyed the data pad, but decided not to say anything. "Oh...um, it's a security device, designed to boost our detection sensors. I started working on it after everything happened with Geordi going missing..."

She squeezed his shoulder, resisted bending down to kiss him, and instead walked to the replicator. She wasn't particularly hungry, but knew she had to eat something. "Honey crisp apple, please," she said and the requested fruit swirled into existence. She took a noisy bite and her eyes fell on Wesley's data pad again. Had he been writing to Hatha? She didn't want to be pushy, but she couldn't help but be his mother. "I know there are certain subjects that you don't want to discuss with me...but I want you to know that I am here for you, Wes."

"I know, Mom."

"I'm sorry about what happened with Hatha. It's not fair." None of it was.

He was silent for a few minutes, while she finished her apple. Then he said, "it just seems like if the Ciapathians are members of the Federation now, I should be able to communicate with her through subspace."

"I'm afraid we're under orders not to contact Ciapathia."

"I know...Captain Picard told me that. He also told me he would try and find out how she is doing."

"If he said that, I'm sure he will follow through, Wes."

Wesley turned back to work on his project. "I guess I'll just have to wait and see then." A moment later, he looked up at the sound of beeping. "Mom, you've got a call."

Frowning, she moved to her personal console. "It's a priority one message. I'd better take this in my room."

Few officers exuded a sense of Starfleet like Fleet Admiral Alynna Nechayev. And yet, Beverly Crusher was familiar with the woman behind the command desk. As familiar as one could be with Admiral Nechayev. She also was aware that according to Admiral Forrester, Nechayev had personally given the order to hand Li over to the Ciapathians. If that was true, Beverly had to be careful. Nechayev's already pinched features seemed even more intense than usual.

"Admiral."

Nechayev tapped her desk on the other side of screen. "I need you to do something for me, Doctor Crusher."

"Sir?"

"I need you to confirm a theory for me. Where is Lieutenant LaForge's body?"

Beverly's inner suspicion was suddenly magnified, but the most she allowed Nechayev to see was her slight hesitation. "LaForge's body is in the morgue. Tomorrow it will be sent to Earth for a ceremony there with his family. Why do you ask?"

"It is vital that the ceremony on Earth not take place."

She felt immediately defensive. "What? Admiral, what is vital, is that Geordi's family be permitted some semblance of closure."

"Your compassion and empathy are duly noted, Beverly. Aside from your immense skill, that is what sets you apart from your lesser colleagues."

"Admiral, I just don't understand why-"

"Did you perform an autopsy, Doctor?"

"Well, yes. Within the parameters given to me by Command."

"You mean, by Admiral Forrester..." The inquisitive expression on Nechayev's face had grown hard.

"Does it matter? The orders came down from Command."

"It matters greatly."

"Admiral, may I speak frankly?"

Nechayev allowed for a small smile. "Do you have any other way of speaking, Doctor?"

Crusher ignored the jab, not hesitating further. "Quite frankly, I was shocked and disappointed that I would be limited in any way from carrying out my duties. I was incredibly suspicious of that order, as I am of your current line of questioning."

"Your disappointment and suspicion are noted, Commander, and perhaps well-placed," was all her superior offered in response. "Did you perform any other tests?"

She shook her head slowly. "I was expressly ordered not to."

Vice Admiral Nechayev sighed. "I am now overriding that order. I"ll need you to perform genetic testing on the body immediately, and send the results my way. Don't analyze the data you find too closely, Doctor. In fact, don't review the results at all."

"Is that an order?"

"Why yes. Instead I'll have my people look the data over and report back to you."

"You're asking me to run tests on Geordi's body, but not review the results? Why the secrecy?"

"If all goes well, I will be able to answer that question fully for you, Doctor. But for now, all I can offer, is that I am on the right side of this...unlike some of my colleagues."

Beverly didn't know how to respond to this concerning statement. "How soon do you need the results?"

"Certainly before the funeral ceremony takes place tonight on board the Enterprise."

She nodded grimly. "Understood. And what am I to tell Captain Picard?"

"Nothing yet. Any further explanation of this matter to Captain Picard should come from me."

A few hours later...

She was walking quickly; so quickly that he actually had to hurry to catch up. She was of course wearing the same all black dress uniform he was: the one reserved for only the most solemn occasions. She walked with her head down as though in deep thought, which was probably the case.

"Doctor," he called out as he drew closer. Startled, her head snapped around, and she slowed her pace. To his inner delight, she smiled at him.

"Captain...good to see you." The sentiment sounded genuine, but something in her eyes told him she was holding something back. Perhaps it wasn't the right thing to ask her for her opinion on this subject.

He nodded and returned her smile, but his confidence ebbed when she looked down at the data pad he was carrying. Following her gaze, he again felt the stress of the evening pressing upon him. Steeling himself, he held the pad up. "I was hoping you would be kind enough to look this over." She raised an eyebrow when he paused. "It's the eulogy for Mr. LaForge. If you wouldn't mind, I would appreciate your input."

She hesitated, but then smiled warmly and took the pad from him. He hadn't been in close proximity to her in a few days, and was surprised by the effect it had on him. "Of course," she said softly, and lowered her gaze to the screen. He found he was staring at her, and when she lifted her eyes, he looked away quickly. Clearing his throat, he stepped away to allow her some space.

"Jean-Luc..."

He glanced up, to see her holding out the data pad. As he took it from her, she wiped a tear that had emerged from her eye. "It's lovely," she said. "I had no idea that you knew Geordi before his posting here." The conversation with Nechayev came back to her, and she shuddered inwardly. Earlier that afternoon she had run the tests Nechayev had ordered. She had obeyed the Admiral's order, and had sent the result directly to Command without reviewing them. But it didn't matter. She knew the truth now. She had checked one of the scans from the autopsy with the results of LaForge's most recent physical after the Tsiolkofsky viral incident. Just as an afterthought...and now she knew that whoever was lying in the ship's morgue was not Geordi. This person's eyesight had been tampered with-he had been deliberately blinded by a medical procedure. Perhaps the real Geordi was somewhere else, or perhaps he had also been killed. But she, the holder of this terrible information could not say a word to the Captain. At least, not yet. And now she understood at least partly why Nechayev had ordered her silence. She suddenly felt an immense sense of guilt and the urge to blurt everything out to him.

"Only briefly," he was saying. "But his intelligence and work ethic made an impression upon me."

"I can see that..." To his surprise, she took his hand and squeezed. "Your eulogy is very heartfelt. Thank you for showing it to me."

He felt his pulse quicken, as he returned her grip more tightly than he had intended. Feeling his nerves inexplicably on edge, he dropped her hand and then glanced to the side as several crew members came around the bend, and passed by with a deferential nod. He licked his dry lips, and avoiding Beverly's gaze he tapped at the data pad again. "Beverly...I nearly forgot I needed to show you something else. I obtained this information from Del...given the content, I thought it best to transmit it to your personal terminal rather than give it directly to Mr. Crusher."

She took the pad and studied it quickly. She looked up at him. "So she's safe?"

"That is not clear. Del confirmed her presence in a Ciapathian hospital with her mother, who remains comatose. Assuming that Del is telling the truth, the most we know is that she's alive."

"Would Del have a reason to lie to you?"

"I don't know...but I sense he's telling the truth about this. Certainly he seems to be seeking my support. It seems he has gotten in above his head in his new position."

"He should have listened to you," she said. She handed the tiny device back to him. "Thank you again. I'll share this with Wesley later. You know, you can call him Wesley. It might set him more at ease."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yes. He's incredibly intimidated by you, you know." She tried not to laugh at his quizzical expression.

He made a dissatisfied face. "That is certainly not what I intended."

"Nevertheless you tend to have that effect on people. Most people."

He watched her carefully. "But not you. I certainly hope not you."

She looked down at her boots. "Well, I would be lying if I said you didn't have an effect on me. But...it's not intimidation." She watched his gaze soften somewhat. She glanced around. The corridor was still empty, and she noted that one of the viewing areas on the observation deck was free. "Can we go in there for a few minutes?"

He stared at her, trying to gauge her intent, even as he felt they were approaching a familiar line. He hesitated, but finally relented. "Yes."

Once they were inside the observation area, she turned back to face him, and this time her closeness sent a line of heat up his back, which settled uncomfortably in his collar. He tried to take a step back, but she grabbed his hand again. Her fingers were warm and strong, and he allowed himself to take in her scent, which was crisp and faintly lavender. It was not a wise idea, because he felt his body beginning to respond. Trying to think bland thoughts, he tried to pry his fingers from hers, but she tightened her grip. Her gaze was now very complex, and she seemed on the verge of saying something, but something was holding her back.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

Her lips parted and trembled almost imperceptibly. "Because I want to tell you something...but I can't. Not yet."

That was when he took her face in his hands and kissed her. She responded warmly, and felt her hand circle around and grip the back of his neck tightly, pulling him closer. Feeling the tingle of electricity on his skin and hearing alarms in his brain again, he pulled away, and took a stumbling step back. "I'm sorry," he said.

She brought her hand up to her mouth. "You don't have to apologize. And you don't have to leave either."

"Yes," he said firmly. "Yes, I do. I have to go and prepare for the ceremony."