SHIP OF FOOLS
Chapter 11
The door chime broke the silence some time later, it might have been half an hour or just a few minutes. He swiveled his chair back towards the door, and the lights in the room came up, and whatever it was that might have gone through his mind a moment ago was lost beyond recall. "Come," he called with an involuntary sigh, half-relieved, half-resigned.
It was Worf. But even before the door had slid shut in the Klingon's wake the captain knew that something was very wrong. Worf stopped a few steps away from his desk, by all appearances uncertain how to begin, and it immediately struck Picard that he had never seen his Chief of Security so blatantly ill at ease. Worf appeared hesitant, embarrassed, almost, if that had been possible in someone who radiated self-confidence much as a sun radiates heat, insecure; and the implications were staggering.
"Yes, Lieutenant?" asked Picard, his voice quite calm, trying to suppress a sense of foreboding so strong it almost made the breath seize in his throat.
Worf swallowed visibly. "There is something which concerns... which I believe I should mention to you in private, sir. I have been watching it for some time now. It is... worrying me."
No, the captain heard himself thinking as the walls of the ready room seemed to be slowly closing in around him for the second time that day. Please. Don't – don't do that to me. Don't...
"Yes?" he said.
He could see the muscles in Worf's jaw working savagely. He had seen that look in the Klingon's eyes before, too – that look that went just past his own face, avoiding him, as it did when they were, quite literally, not seeing eye to eye. About three seconds later Worf straightened.
"It is not important. I am sorry to have disturbed you, Captain."
Yes it is, Picard thought. I'll have it out of you now. You're zealous to a fault, Lieutenant, and pretending isn't your strong point – at least if you think me paranoid I'll know where I stand. And then I'll –
"Worf!"
The Klingon stopped, halfway to the door, half-turning; the captain saw his shoulders tense.
"Sir?"
"I have a feeling I should better hear this."
Worf turned and came back, facing him again and frowning; from his expression Picard could only assume that he must have grown utterly pale within the last few seconds. Better to get on with it and get it over with.
"Well?" he prompted.
That look. That look that would not meet his eyes. He could see the muscles tensing in that face again. Worf was choosing his words as he sometimes did, not quite sure how to put it. Not long now.
"It concerns... what is happening on the ship, sir. I have been noticing..." Worf paused, apparently rephrasing what he had been about to say, looking desperately uncomfortable. "I have been speaking with Commander Riker about... occurrences that had come to my notice. Things said and done on the ship lately."
"Yes?"
"I do not believe he took it seriously. Instead he... recommended... the device to me. He was very insistent that I should try it out immediately. Knowing how you feel in the matter, I thought I should inform you."
Picard leaned back in his chair, breathing slowly. All of a sudden he felt dizzy and weak, as if he had been holding his breath for minutes at a time.
"My God," he whispered.
"Yes, sir. I found it alarming."
The captain shook his head, too overcome for the moment to explain. He saw Worf looking at him steadily now, patiently waiting for him to compose himself. He gave himself another few heartbeats. At last, very softly, he said: "I was beginning to think I am losing my mind."
Worf pulled himself up a little in surprise, his eyes narrowing. There was another short silence during which the security chief seemed to be considering this, and failing to make sense of it. At last he came up with a single tentative "Sir?"
"Commander Riker – Counselor Troi – La Forge – they all appeared to believe... and just now – " He shook his head again, unable to continue.
Worf hesitated, frowning slightly. At last he said slowly: "Dr. Crusher implied that you might be, sir."
It took a moment to register. Then Picard looked up, his eyes suddenly wide with shock. "To you, Worf?"
"Yes, Captain. I had the impression that she wanted me to keep you under observation, although she did not say so."
"You never mentioned this to me," said the captain, his voice barely above a whisper again.
"No, sir. I did not know what to think. Until I had made up my mind, I deemed it best to keep my thoughts to myself."
"And now you have?"
"Yes, sir."
"I understand."
And he did. It all seemed to fall into place. He saw it now, but even now he could hardly bring himself to face the full extent of the truth – the monstrosity of it, the merciless, utter betrayal. He wondered if Worf fully understood what had been going on all around them.
A moment later the Klingon dispersed his doubts on that head.
"Why are they doing this to you, Captain?"
"I don't know. It's something to do with that damn device – I don't understand it either." He felt old and drained as he said it – as if what he had just heard had cost him the last of his strength.
"Captain, are you all right?" Worf's voice sounded concerned.
"I'm fine. Sit down, Lieutenant. It seems to me there are a few things we should work out before we do anything else."
- - - - - -
"Actually, I think he's on to me. I don't know what it was I said, but he was pretty angry." Geordi frowned behind his visor, reliving the moment. "Oh yes, pretty angry. In fact he scared the hell out of me."
"It's such a shame," Troi said softly. "He just doesn't want to understand."
"No. He doesn't. But tell you what, Deanna – I'm past caring."
"I am not. Geordi, you know what he is like. Ten days ago nobody on this ship had experienced what we are experiencing now. The way he sees it both the mission and the ship are in danger. Don't judge him too harshly."
"Well, I've never cared for this mission, and neither has anybody else – and that includes you, Deanna. He's endangering all of us, and his precious ship, so don't tell me he cares. And I'm not going back into that dumb hell where your Picards and Rikers are ordering you around without any notion what they're talking about. Just get to work on it, Mr. La Forge, and never say the word impossible. Neither of them could so much as diagnose a glitch, let alone sort it out, and they to lord it over me and all this machinery. No, I think I've got a better idea than that."
"A better idea?" echoed Troi. "I don't understand. What is it you're planning?"
"Can't tell you yet." Geordi flashed her an enthusiastic grin. "But I promise you'll love it."
- - - - - -
Ensign Lavelle was back at Ops, with Riker occupying the command chair, when the doors of the ready room swished open again. Worf strode up the ramp to his console, dismissing Macaulay with a nod, and began to occupy himself with the readouts. The first officer rose and stretched.
"Good morning, Captain."
"Good morning, Will. Status?"
"Readings from the probes unchanged. No ships in the vicinity."
"Hm," said the captain, settling down in the center seat. Riker remained on his feet, uneasily scanning the aft consoles as if trying to catch Worf's eye, but Worf was still intent upon his readouts.
"Where's Counselor Troi?" Picard asked a little abruptly.
"She's excused herself for today. She still isn't feeling too well – Doctor Crusher said she should take it easy for a couple of days."
"I agree. She should get what rest she can," said the captain, wondering for a moment if there was anybody left on the bridge who didn't know why he wanted her to be rested – who didn't know in detail what they were doing in this nebula, in fact. Riker was dropping into his seat now. Ensign Maeno swiveled the Conn chair to face him.
"Sir, might I ask – "
"Not again, Ensign!" Riker interrupted, voice rising a little in impatience.
His curiosity piqued, the captain asked: "Not again what, Number One?"
Riker let out his breath in a sharp sigh. "Just a little exchange we've had before, sir. You were saying, Ensign?"
Maeno gave him an apprehensive look, then addressed herself to the captain.
"It's just... Sir, I'm sorry, but there's such a lot of interference, I can barely make out the readings from those probes. Just now it looked as if either we or the probes are drifting a little. If I knew what we're looking out for, I might..."
Correction, Picard found himself thinking. Apparently there are people who don't know the details. He was about to answer when something in Maeno's glossy black hair caught his eye.
"What's that thing you are wearing, Ensign?"
She looked at him with widening eyes. He could feel Riker fidgeting uncomfortably on his right.
"It's... it's something Counselor Troi gave me, sir. To make me feel better when I'm scared. I'm..."
"Ensign, I thought I had made it absolutely clear that I'm not tolerating that thing on my bridge or anywhere else until further notice."
Maeno's eyes widened even further; she looked like a frightened child now.
"Sir, please, I'll try harder – but please..."
"Ensign Maeno, take that thing off. My officers have proved themselves perfectly capable of functioning without it. Now, if you don't mind."
"Sir – !" Maeno pleaded, desperately. Picard was about to bring the exchange to a summary end, somewhat taken aback at being argued with on his own bridge, when Riker intervened.
"Captain, with all due respect, I really don't think that's necessary. If it helps her cope we might let her have it. This is not a crisis situation."
"That's quite beside the point, Number One. Ensign, I gave you a direct order. I would..."
Riker stood. "Sir, forgive my saying so, but I think your reactions are a little out of proportion."
There was a pause. Maeno stared. Lavelle sat hunched over in the Ops chair, not turning, his shoulders taut. Picard looked up at his first officer, his heart pounding, and felt the silence that had fallen over the bridge like a sudden weight on his chest. So this is it. He had known it would come, and yet –
"Ensign Maeno," he said quietly, "will you take that thing off?"
"I'm sure there's some misunderstanding," interposed Riker. "Sir, might I have a word with you in private?"
"Whenever you like, Number One, once we have settled this. Ensign."
Even now it might have worked. Maeno's hand was beginning to move towards the device as if drawn there, her frightened eyes still on Picard's face. There was no sound either from Ops or from Tactical and the aft stations. Riker stood looking down on his captain, eyes narrowing.
"With respect, sir, there's really no need to be so hard on her."
The captain did flare up at that.
"I'll be the judge of that on this ship, Number One!"
"I hate doing this, sir," said Riker, "but in that case I must tell you that I am questioning your judgment. I've been keeping silent about it as long as I could, but there's a point when I can't ignore the facts any longer."
Silence. Everyone on the bridge seemed to be straining to listen. Maeno's lips were beginning to quiver. Picard looked up at his first officer, both hands closed around the armrests of his chair, very pale and very determined.
"Such as?"
"Such as your unparalleled disregard for the welfare of your crew, and your obsession with your personal attitudes and concerns in the face of danger. I believe you to be unfit for command at this time, and I happen to know that I am not alone in this belief. You are acting in an irrational manner, Captain, and in the best interests of the crew and the mission I am taking command of this ship."
Picard stood, one smooth movement.
"Commander, before you go any further I suggest you consider what it is you're doing here. In the meantime – " He paused, softening a little. "In the meantime I would ask you to believe me that I know what I am about."
"I've been anticipating this, sir. I'm sorry – I was hoping it wouldn't come to that." He hit his communicator. "Doctor Crusher to the bridge, please."
"Belay that order!" Picard snapped, a little breathlessly, and then he realized that there had been a brief little chittering sound from the tactical console a split second before Riker spoke. The first officer whirled.
"Worf, what the hell was that?"
"I shut down intraship communication," the deep voice replied from above.
There was another moment of blank silence. Then Picard spoke, and he was all cold now, all duty and discipline. They had come too far to be turning back.
"Commander, for the time being I relieve you of your duties as first officer of this ship."
"You can't be serious." The words came automatically, without a thought. Riker looked stunned – wholly incredulous, as if there had been no opening in his reality for the course things seemed to be taking. "Captain, just consider – "
"You heard me, Will."
Riker took a step towards Tactical. "Worf, look here, I'm not happy with this either. But you have to help me get us out of this. Damn it all, we've been talking about it! I told you what I thought! What's been happening to you? Can't you see for yourself now what's going on here? Can't you see that the captain is not himself?"
"I am sorry, Commander. I believe I am doing the right thing. I stand with the captain."
Riker stared at him for a moment, then turned sharply towards the forward stations. Ensign Maeno was looking fixedly at the carpet. Lavelle had swiveled his chair far enough to be able to see what was going on, but he would not meet the first officer's eyes. Riker turned back to encounter Worf's tense posture and stony expression, and raised his chin in his turn.
"I see. Very well. Are you confining me to quarters as well, sir?"
"I would prefer not to have to. But I must ask you to leave the bridge." Picard addressed the forward stations. "As well as anybody else who feels incapable of accepting the situation."
A slight movement behind their backs made them both turn. Macaulay had risen from her seat by one of the aft stations and come forward to stand beside Worf, head held high, a defiant look on her face. Picard braced himself.
"Yes, Ensign?"
"I beg to be excused, Captain." And without even waiting for an answer she turned and strode towards the turbolift. The captain saw a muscle twitching in Worf's jaw. Riker nodded briefly, then looked round.
"Maeno?" he said, quite gently.
Slowly, looking miserable, Maeno got to her feet, cast a sidelong glance in the direction of the captain and another at Riker, hesitated for a second, then scuttled up the ramp and slipped into the lift with Macaulay. Riker stood to attention for a moment with a formal "Captain," then he left in his turn, making for the turbolift. At the last possible moment Ruuk, the conn replacement, got up from his seat and darted after him. The doors hissed shut a second time, and this time there was the almost imperceptible sound of the lift moving away.
Picard looked round his strangely empty bridge, a dead quiet slowly taking over inside him. Here and there, a pair of eyes looked back. He reminded himself that they would be expecting orders from him.
"Lieutenant Clancy, take the conn. Mr. Worf, you are acting as my first officer. Ensign Westaway can stand in at Tactical. Please keep monitoring those probes, Mr. Lavelle, we don't need any more surprises right now. Let's notify the crew."
"I do not believe they will care, Captain."
"Well, at least we can try to warn anybody who's left. Give me a shipwide channel, Mr. Worf."
There was a moment's silence as Worf's fingers moved over the panels. The answer, when it came, was a growl of confirmed suspicion.
"I cannot restore communication, sir. The channel is blocked."
"Damn," breathed the captain. "Any chance that this is another computer failure?"
"A very slim chance, sir. I believe it is being effected from Engineering."
Picard nodded, a little surprised at his own lack of surprise.
"Mr. Worf, I would like a word with you. You have the bridge, Mr. Clancy."
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