SHIP OF FOOLS

Chapter 05

"You are early, Doctor", Alyssa Ogawa said with her friendly smile as Beverly walked into sickbay the next morning. "Anything unusual?"

"Not to my knowledge. After a level-one diagnostic of everything, down to the food dispensers, what else could it be? And what's that?" she said, reaching for a padd laid ready for her perusal on a cabinet. "Oh, of course! How is Lieutenant Stromberg's pregnancy coming along, then?"

"Very well. I didn't tell her there'll be two of them."

"Of course not. She said she wanted to be surprised, so we won't spoil it for her. It's such a lovely story, and after all she's gone through..." Beverly sighed, smiled, and grew professional. "Okay. How is Galinski today?"

"Better, but still depressive. I would have left him to you, but I didn't expect you for another half hour at least."

"I don't think I am very welcome at that breakfast table right now", Beverly said ruefully. "The captain and I had a slight difference of opinions yesterday. And I'm not going to sit down and tell him I've changed my mind since then. I haven't."

Ogawa smiled sympathetically, then flicked open her tricorder and started comparing data against one of the wall monitors. "But certainly he wouldn't insist that you do?"

"Insist? Of course not. But there is such a thing as implying your opinion. And he isn't in a very social mood anyway."

There was a pause during which Nurse Ogawa looked from her tricorder to the monitor and back again with a slight professional frown. "The captain is driving himself very hard", she said finally. "After that... that incident on Celtris III you said he needed to rest, but I think he never stopped working since then."

"You are absolutely right", Beverly replied emphatically. "He hasn't. And as for reminding him, I might as well be talking Jaradan. All right, so work is his way of dealing with things, but that Mavvionian business must have tired him. Deanna said something to that effect, now I come to think of it. And that nasty new assignment on top of it all. – In fact", she added, thoughtfully, "that might explain some of it."

"Some of it?" echoed Ogawa.

"Part of his attitude towards a perfectly harmless form of recreation, Alyssa. I found him quite determined against it, and quite unwilling to consider the possibility that he might just be prejudiced."

"Personally the captain seems to prefer work to relaxation", Alyssa remarked primly. "Maybe that would account for part of it too."

"Yes. He does. It has me worried sometimes. But normally he wouldn't dream of imposing his own preferences on his crew. Or even of expecting anybody to take them into account. After all it's their spare time. I found it quite unsettling."

Nurse Ogawa shook her head. "But, Doctor... Beverly... I don't think any of this so very surprising. We may know it's harmless. But it's so easy to become a little inflexible when someone is overworked and unwilling to give himself any rest. Maybe even a bit... well, unreasonable. It may just be more difficult to admit when you're talking about the captain, and a personal friend."

"It shouldn't be", Doctor Crusher said decidedly. "Letting a personal bias interfere with my work – that would be unforgivable. And the captain would be the first to agree. You are absolutely right, Alyssa. I'll mention it to him."

As if on cue the captain's distinctive voice came over the intercom. "All senior officers", said Picard. "Please report to the conference lounge."

The two women looked at each other. "Again. Now what, at this time of day", said Beverly, rhetorically, raised her eyebrows at Ogawa, and made for the door.

She found Riker and Worf by the large aft windows, engaged in a private conversation. Will was looking amused she thought, and Worf was looking as if he would have liked to change the subject. "There's no pleasing you, Worf", the first officer was saying. "I thought you liked Klingon opera. And based on the Chinese pentatonic scale. I call that really inspired." Then he turned, gave her a pleasant smile, and went to his chair. Deanna entered a moment later, and hard on her heels came Geordi, looking annoyed and slumping into his customary seat without a word. The captain was the last to arrive. Beverly watched him coming in, looking for signs of wear and tear; but Picard was looking dapper and alert and very focused, much as usual. Well, decided the doctor, those might be traces of strain under his eyes. Riker waited until the captain had settled into his seat, then he said: "Good morning, sir. Let me guess – yet more helpful suggestions from Admiral Juarez?"

"Not this time", said the captain. "This should be a short briefing. I've been reviewing the conditions we'll be facing inside the Mount Nebula. What we've been told so far doesn't do them justice. Mr. La Forge, I want you to prepare eight probes for launching as soon as we have reached our coordinates. I want them to remain stationary just far enough inside the nebula to be undetectable from a distance. Mr. Worf has been working on ways to boost their sensors. They will be degenerating even faster than the ship's equipment, but at least they should give us some advance warning of any approaching ships."

"Yes, sure", said Geordi. "We'll get to work on it straight away."

"I realize the crew has been put to a lot of stress lately. The timing of this new assignment is unfortunate, but there is nothing we can do about it. There have been a couple of incidents –"

"I have taken appropriate measures", said Worf quickly, before the captain could go into details. Beverly and Deanna exchanged a brief, intrigued look. Riker grinned. Picard continued without missing a beat. "We'll just have to keep the fact in mind. You may want to inform your department heads of a new hand-to-hand combat class Mr. Worf is starting. It might actually be a way to relieve some of the tension. By the way – have you found out what caused that incident in the main shuttlebay, Counselor?"

"Well", Troi began hesitantly, "we are dealing with a major nervous breakdown here, Captain. Apparently..."

"In fact", interposed Beverly, "I'm keeping Galinski under a balancer for the moment. He's been quite depressed since his recovery. But it shouldn't be long now until Troi will be able to work with him."

The captain hesitated, but after a moment he nodded. "Very well. One more thing. I'm well aware of the fact that I've been asking this before, but have you still found no trace of Data, Mr. La Forge?"

Geordi shook his head. "Well, no, as far as I know we haven't. But frankly, Captain, I've barely had the time to ask for a status report before this meeting was announced. And in fact I'm running everybody ragged right now with that diagnostic. Not having Data around doesn't help. But I assure you, we'll keep you advised of our findings."

Picard straightened a little at that, frowned, and for a moment seemed on the verge of a sharp reply. Then he evidently decided against it. "Very well, then that will be all for the moment. Dismissed. – I'd like to see you in my ready room for a moment when it's convenient, Will", he added as the meeting was breaking up. Riker paused in the act of getting out of his chair and nodded. "I'll just have a look in at Engineering and a few other places, if that's all right with you, sir. Collect some more reports", he added with a quick grin. "It shouldn't take too long."

- - - - - -

"I agree entirely, Will. Warp three will be more than sufficient."

Riker nodded, satisfied, and swiveled his chair in the captain's ready room sideways so he could stretch out his legs. Picard was no more eager to reach the Mount Nebula ahead of time than anybody else. "Sir, what exactly does Starfleet expect of you? I've been thinking about it, and frankly I like it less and less. If this is a set-up there's just no way you can avoid it. They want whatever this guy may have to offer, they're giving you discretionary powers, and they're washing their hands of it all at the same time. Dravek may have gone rogue or may just pretend he has; no matter what he is, we may be serving the Cardassians the perfect diplomatic incident just by going where we're ordered to go, and your first priority is to avoid one. How the hell are we supposed to get out of this?"

"By turning tail and heading back into Federation space if we have to", replied Picard. "Will, we can't plan ahead here. We simply don't have the means. We'll have to do this one step at a time."

"Captain, is it just my imagination, or have they picked somebody who'd make an ideal scapegoat if this goes wrong? Your history with the Cardassians being what it is –"

"Starfleet appears to have covered itself either way. Yes, it did occur to me too, Will."

"Something tells me it's not Juarez's career that's bound up with this", grumbled Riker.

"That's one of the advantages of being an admiral", remarked Picard, drawing an involuntary grin from his first officer. Thus one of the advantages you're quite happy to leave to others, sir. Out aloud he said: "I've just been told about another vessel at extreme sensor range. It was gone before they could identify it, but of course we might have registered on their sensors."

"Frankly, I don't believe the rerouting of the Enterprise can be kept secret for any time at all. According to the mission specifics Juarez transmitted there are no other Federation ships in this sector at the moment."

"There weren't two days ago – for what it's worth."

"Anything else?"

"Yes." Riker's mouth quirked briefly. "A class-two comet."

"Why, how fascinating." The captain reached for his tea mug. Riker knew what was bound to be next, of course, and had already been steeling himself for the inevitable question. God, how I hate this stupid situation. But the question was slow in coming today. Picard was sitting there, fingers locked about the handle of his mug, his look turned inward as if he had forgotten Riker's presence. The first officer studied him for a few seconds with something between concern and amusement, then he deliberately broke the spell.

"Something on your mind, sir?"

Picard looked up quickly, throwing him a look that actually held a touch of gratitude. "What's been on all our minds since the day before yesterday. But – yes. What do you think about that new device people seem to be so fond of?"

"I've seen it around. Geordi has been lecturing me about it, and complaining because Worf would have none of it." He grinned at the memory. "Well, I could have told him that straight away. I don't quite know what to think about the thing myself, but it seems to have its uses. I haven't had the time to get one and try it out. Deanna says I should – she thinks highly of it. – In fact", he added quietly, "you've been asking her the same question already, sir."

"Yes. Frankly it worries me. I've seen it too – I get the impression that the thing is spreading, and right now I would prefer my crew to be concentrating on their jobs. But I can't think of a reasonable-sounding objection" – he smiled briefly – "and anyway I haven't found anyone so far who shares my misgivings."

"Well, I don't think it much of a problem either", Riker admitted. "It's not harmful, and they'll get over the excitement within a month if we don't give them the idea there is anything the matter with it."

"I'm not so sure, Will. I'm not so sure there isn't something the matter with it. Take Geordi – apparently it actually does something for him. I don't want to deprive him of it, but if the thing truly alters the way his system reacts to those implants then it could have a profound effect on the system itself. I don't like it. And I certainly don't like the way he's been acting ever since I came back from Mavvion."

Riker frowned. "Acting as in – ?"

"Not paying attention. Refusing to take things seriously. All but dismissing the Data problem. I've been wondering if we are speaking the same language."

"I suppose we must allow for a degree of euphoria", Riker said thoughtfully. "If I were to find myself in his situation I'd feel the same. Just imagine – getting your heart's desire when you have given up hoping for it."

"I'm talking of behavior that occasionally borders on neglecting his duties, Will. I can't be sure it has anything to do with that thing, and I've tried to be impartial – apparently I am not, and it shows. But frankly I'm losing patience with the situation. It's bad enough without having to worry about whether or not my officers are listening."

"A question of discipline, sir?"

"Verging on it. It's nothing I could pin down so far, but I confess it makes me uneasy."

"Well, it does ring a bell", the first officer said thoughtfully. "I'll have a look in on him – although Deanna is already monitoring him, of course. But, Captain, I think I've spotted a reason for that sort of thing, and I didn't have to look half as far. Everybody is unhappy with what we're doing right now."

"Most of the crew don't even know what exactly we are doing."

"They know they've been taken off an easy assignment for the second time running, and it's evident that Starfleet have been changing their minds again over something or other and that we're at the receiving end of it. The Hellicon Cluster would have been a godsendright now, but damn it, we were there for four whole days before we were told to pick up those delegates instead! I can't blame anybody for being on edge."

"You are quite tired yourself, Will", Picard stated unexpectedly.

"And on edge, is that what you mean, sir?" He caught Picard's expression just in time, and grinned appreciatively for a moment. "All right, I suppose I am. Not as much as you – with all due respect. If there's anything I can do – "

"You could locate Data for me."

"Touché", said the first officer, sobering instantly.

"That wasn't meant as a rebuke, Will. We all seem to be functioning at less than full efficiency. I still haven't been able to get rid of the impression that we're missing something." He frowned, shook his head very slightly, his fingers going to a spot between his eyebrows as if drawn there. Riker watched him, frowning in his turn.

"Headache, sir?"

Picard nodded, wincing a little.

"Are you sure you're all right?" asked Riker, suddenly concerned.

"Yes. I am. I just don't seem to be sleeping too well these days."

"Our present assignment?" Riker ventured.

"All sorts of things I suppose."

Celt–, Riker started to think, and interrupted himself. Damn. And don't assume things, Will. I'll have to ask Deanna - she'll know. "Perhaps you should try out Deanna's device after all", he suggested half-seriously.

"I'll be damned first", Picard replied, quite pleasantly. "Carry on, Number One – I'll join you in a minute."

- - - - - -

"Well, at least we know one thing after this infernal diagnostic", Geordi said, giving the central control table in Main Engineering an affectionate pat. "We got one well-running ship. Okay, guys, that's it. Everybody who's not absolutely essential here can go off and get drunk – may be your last chance before that standing yellow alert. – You noticed we've found the source of that power surge, didn't you, Worf?"

"I did." Worf tore himself away from his frowning contemplation of the steadily thrumming warp core. "It has stopped. What was the source?"

"Conduit gone haywire as expected. You shouldn't have any more problems with it now."

"Very well." The Klingon considered for a moment, apparently on the verge of leaving; then he stopped and addressed the intercom.

"Computer, locate Captain Picard."

"The captain is on the bridge."

"Look here, Worf, if you want to do me a favor, could you just – " Geordi began, looking slightly pained.

"Computer, locate Commander Riker."

"The commander is in Turbolift Four."

"Computer, locate Lieutenant Commander Data."

"Lieutenant Commander Data is not on the ship."

There was a brief pause; then Worf shook his head. "The delay is still there."

Geordi looked at him for several seconds as if to make sure Worf wasn't having him on. Then he said: "You actually mean that, do you."

Worf frowned slightly, evidently waiting for Geordi to make his point.

"Yes. Stupid question. But look here, you can't seriously... I mean, doesn't it strike you as a bit presumptuous to believe you actually know better than the main computer?"

"No", said Worf briefly. Geordi had a feeling that he would have liked to leave it at that, but after a moment's hesitation the Klingon deigned to elaborate on the point. "I do not know better. The computer has not told you there is no delay. If you would time the computer's response you could compare it with earlier results."

"Yes, that might work if it had ever been timed before", said Geordi, letting his annoyance show clearly now. It had been a long day, and having to work without Data hadn't made things any easier. And now, right at the end of it... it was preposterous. It was as if Worf was deliberately trying to wrench some sort of problem from the evidence. In fact he probably was, thought Geordi – the Enterprise's Chief of Security sometimes seemed to take a perverse pleasure in chasing enemies of his own imagining. Rather like a cat pretending to itself to believe a reflection on the wall a butterfly, just for the pleasure of hunting it down. But right now he had no patience for that sort of thing. "And to the best of my knowledge it hasn't. I can't think of any reason why it should have been. Look, Worf, I'm sorry, but sometimes it's just running away with you. You want to hit on a security risk, so you find one. And I don't even know how this could possibly impair security, but no doubt you'll think of a way. We've this minute completed a level-one diagnostic, man! Really – "

"You have seen the power surge", interrupted Worf, sounding annoyed in his turn, his voice rising a little in that vocal equivalent of leaning forward Geordi knew so well.

"Yes, damn it, I have! And we replaced the circuit, and it's gone! And even if you're right and the sensors are a bit slower, where the hell is the problem? You're talking centiseconds here, you know that?"

"If this was a problem with the engines, nanoseconds would matter to you. And if Commander Data was here", Worf said pointedly, "he would corroborate what I said."

That's it, thought Geordi. I've had it. I've had it with him barging in and teaching me my job. Talk about paranoia. I'll be developing one these days if he doesn't leave me alone. He did not say any of this aloud, of course. But when he did answer his voice had a carrying quality that made crew members within hearing stop and turn their heads.

"Look here, Worf. I'm just doing my humble best without Data, okay? Same as you up there on the bridge. I don't mind hard work, but I do mind being lectured about it, and I'll thank you for remembering that I'm the chief engineer down here. What about just doing your job, and letting other people get on with theirs?"

He hadn't really meant it to sound quite like that, and even while he was speaking he felt himself wondering what Worf would do next. You didn't address a Klingon in that manner. But he was angry, and getting angrier as he spoke, and the words seemed to be shaping themselves without much conscious thought.

There was a moment of silence when he had finished. Geordi had never seriously expected Worf to lash out at him, but neither had he expected the reaction that came. True, he could see the muscles in Worf's jaw working for a second or two, but after that the answer was, by Klingon standards, quite soft. In fact, he thought with an unpleasant little start, he had never known Worf to sound quite so icily restrained before.

"With all due respect, sir, that is what I am doing. I am perceiving a security risk. I would like to follow it up. With your permission, sir."

"Oh, Christ", said Geordi, his anger evaporating as quickly as it had risen. "Sure. You want to indulge yourself with a security risk – be my guest. Feel free to do the diagnostic all over again if you like." He gave an involuntary sigh. "Look, I'm getting the impression we're all a bit under the weather right now. I'm not apologising for what I've said, mind you, but I'm not too happy with the way it came over. I'm sorry if I've been out of line. Let's just carry on, shall we?"

"Certainly. Sir", said Worf.

- - - - - -

Beverly Crusher looked up from her monitor in some alarm as the captain strode into her office. There was something in his bearing that told her well in advance that this was not a social visit.

"Beverly", he said almost brusquely. "A minute of your time, if you don't mind."

"Always, Jean-Luc. Do sit down. What can I do for you?"

"Galinski", said the captain without preamble, sitting and tugging down his uniform tunic. Beverly sat back in her own chair behind her desk. "He was taken to sickbay after Worf had stunned him. I had no idea he's still here. All I wanted to know was what caused him to behave like that."

"Well. It's simple, in a way – emotional overload. He had a number of personal problems, and a tendency to blame others for his failings. Apparently he thought other people were getting preferential treatment, and that his commanding officers had it in for him. He somehow managed to stay out of Deanna's way, and then all of a sudden he snapped. Admittedly, he must have snapped quite spectacularly, but it happens, you know.He's been thoroughly depressed ever since he came out of that phaser stun. Otherwise, he is fine physically. Which reminds me of something you'll be thrilled to hear, Jean-Luc. Your own physical is overdue – as usual, I might add."

The captain dismissed the issue with a shrug. "Let's disregard that for the moment. Beverly, have there been any other cases of emotional overload lately? Any more nervous breakdowns, or anything of the sort?"

The doctor frowned. "Not to my knowledge. We don't usually get nervous breakdowns. We're not supposed to, on this ship. You could ask Deanna, of course... You have a particular reason for asking that?"

"It strikes me that part of my crew is acting somewhat strangely these days. This man's nerves snapping in the shuttlebay, one of Worf's people apparently going off in a creative euphoria when she was supposed to be compiling a report, Myers' behavior..."

"Well, if getting killed in an accident is your notion of acting strangely – "

"I'm referring to his behavior before he had that accident", replied Picard, stung and a little defensively. "And then of course there's Data, and Geordi doesn't appear to mind very much that they still cannot find him."

"I'm afraid I can't help you there. The two I can help you with are Galinski and poor Myers. One had a bad case of jangled nerves, and the other broke his neck." Beverly tilted her head, considering. "And if there are any implications I should be drawing, I'm afraid they elude me", she added finally. "Let me tell you something, Jean-Luc. You're simply trying to make sense of an accident that's so pointless it is sickening. You won't find it, no matter how much you try, and you're not doing yourself any good."

"I wish I knew what you are getting at", said Picard.

"Do you? Well, in that case I'll tell you. You're tired to death. You needn't look at me like that, I'm not the first to notice. Neither am I the first of your crew to notice that weariness tends to make you worry."

"If you're going to bring up that physical again – "

"Now, would I be doing such a thing", said Beverly dryly. "I might, of course, but unfortunately I can't just have you strapped to a table. I simply want you to get some rest. To be precise, I want you to get eight hours' uninterrupted sleep tonight, and I want you to stop fretting. That way you'll be doing your ship a much better service than by driving yourself half crazy over a string of unpleasant events. In fact, I'm making that doctor's orders. Just to be on the safe side", she added.

The captain nodded, his thoughts very clearly elsewhere. "Yes. Of course."

"Jean-Luc, have you heard one word of what I've just been telling you?"

"I've heard you perfectly well. Eight hours' uninterrupted rest. Doctor's orders." He looked at her across the desk, the perfunctory amusement barely covering his troubled expression. "Beverly, your guess in this is as good as mine. What in the world could have happened to Data? Why do I have this feeling that I am the only one who is taking this at all seriously?"

She looked down on the tricorder she was toying with, frowning slightly. "I don't think you are. It's just that... well, we've tried everything we can think of. In fact Will did that even before you came back from Mavvion. Until something new turns up there's quite simply nothing we can do about it, so why not concentrate on the matters at hand for the moment? It's not as if we didn't have our work cut out for us. And you", she added, pointing an accusing finger at him, "are the last person on board who should allow himself to be distracted by yet another thing. You have a delicate mission ahead of you, for Heaven's sake."

"What do you think could have happened to him?" insisted Picard.

Beverly sighed – quite audibly, he thought. "I haven't the slightest. I just don't know, Jean-Luc, and repeating the question won't get me any closer to an answer. And – forgive me, but Data is not my primary concern. You are, right now."

"So what you would suggest is that I just report him missing and get on with it?" he demanded sharply, annoyance and desperation vying in his voice.

"I don't think I'm going to answer that. You're getting quite unreasonable, you know."

"Yes, I do. I was out of line – I'm sorry." He just sat there for another moment or two, then he sighed, shook his head and pushed himself out of his chair. "I'll let you get back to your work", he announced, giving his uniform tunic a slightly embarrassed tug, and left.

For the second time in as many days, Beverly watched him go with a frown. The set of his shoulders was more rigid than before if anything. "You're hopeless, Jean-Luc", she said, kindly and a little sadly. "Quite hopeless."

- - - - - - -