SHIP OF FOOLS

Chapter 12

He paused with his back to the door on entering the ready room, allowing himself to close his eyes for just a second or two. He could still feel that strangely unreal quiet, a feeling as if his voice and body were somehow functioning independently, with himself standing by, looking on. But it would not do for his crew (what crew?) to watch their captain come to pieces over this.

"Sir?" said Worf behind him, then added, for the second time that day: "Are you all right?"

It only added an element of déja vu to the sense of unreality. This is no longer my crew. And then:You're on your own, Jean-Luc.

I'm not. He turned. "Quite all right, Lieutenant. Sit down."

Worf cautiously lowered himself into one of the chairs – not the one Riker usually took, the captain noted as he circled his desk and sat down in his own seat. Somehow the chair seemed to be rather small for Worf.

"Very well", he said, calling the meeting to order. "Let's evaluate the situation, shall we. For the moment we are stuck here until our negotiator turns up. What happens afterwards is anyone's guess."

"Captain, we must find a way to deal with this... thing."

"Agreed. Any ideas on that, Mr. Worf?"

After a moment or two Worf shook his head, glumly.

"Neither have I. Is there anybody among your people you believe you can still trust?"

He saw Worf frowning as he was mentally running through his subordinates. "No, Captain. Not for certain. There is no sense of duty left in them. They seem to have given up everything in search of their pleasure." With the stress he put on the word, it sounded like an obscenity.

"It wasn't wholly their decision, Worf," the captain reminded him gently. "It seems they were made an offer that was... well, very hard to refuse."

"Then they are weak-minded fools to let it happen. And they are..."

Picard looked up expectantly. He had a feeling that he knew what was coming now. Some things just didn't change.

"... without honor," finished Worf, his voice a growl on the last word.

"We'll just have to make very sure we don't lose our minds in the same way, Lieutenant."

"I would never yield to such a dishonorable suggestion, Captain," Worf replied instantly. There was not a shadow of doubt in his voice. Picard found himself smiling – a very small smile.

"A mind not to be changed by place or time. I believed that of myself once, Mr. Worf. Until I was proven wrong."

He saw Worf looking at him curiously for a moment, apparently on the point of saying something in reply; then the Klingon straightened in his chair, eliciting a tiny clinking sound from his heavy metal sash, as if he had just come to some resolution or other. Picard knew better than to ask.

"Counselor Troi knows something of how the thing works," he said instead. "She may even know if there is someone aboard who is immune against it, although I am beginning to doubt there is. The whole thing doesn't look like a coincidence to me."

"No. It may well be a Cardassian plot. I have been considering the possibility."

"Another thing you didn't mention to me," Picard said. Then, seeing Worf look embarrassed all of a sudden, he went on without missing a beat: "However, we may be able to find out something about the device, and if there is anybody left on this ship who can think clearly. And that..." The captain broke off in midsentence. "Oh, no," he said softly.

"Sir?"

"Data. Data, of course. He'd be the one. And he's been missing for days – the computer keeps telling us he's not on this ship, something I've never believed... It seems the whole system must have been tampered with."

"Yes. La Forge. This... this is why the internal sensors do not work!" For a moment, Worf was looking murderous.The captain frowned.

"Pardon me, Lieutenant? What was that about the internal sensors?"

"I noticed a delay in computer responses just after we returned, Captain. And power consumption went up every time I used the internal sensors. I informed Commander La Forge. He told me he had repaired the damage. But the delay was still there. It was not something a Human would have noticed," he added for the captain's benefit.

"I'm afraid... that's to say, are you telling me that this power surge was indicative of some manipulation? That the computer has, in effect, been programmed to lie about Data's whereabouts?"

"That is what I believe, Captain," said Worf grimly.

"Geordi again, then," said the captain quietly, nodding as the pieces fell into place one by one. "So at least we know that Data is, in fact, on the ship and within reach of the sensors."

"We must make sure the sensors are restored, Captain."

"We can't. I certainly can't, and neither, I believe, can you. We can't even determine what exactly has been done to the main computer. Data could, of course. And of course Geordi knows perfectly well where Data is."

Worf thought for a moment. "Of course", he said, and then he added: "I will find out."

"They must have deactivated him. I don't know why I didn't think of that earlier."

"You had other things on your mind, Captain."

"Yes, but it's such an obvious connection – " He paused. "Well, I suppose it's obvious now... There is another thing, Worf."

Worf inclined his head a little, inquiringly.

"Those probes. I don't know if this is a Cardassian plot, or what exactly is happening on this ship, but if the main computer has been manipulated, and the internal sensors reprogrammed, it's just possible – "

"I checked the external sensors!" Worf was on his feet before the captain had finished speaking. "I checked those probes!"

"But at that time you didn't know what was going on, you might not have thought to look for – "

He didn't finish that sentence either. Instead, he rose quickly and came out from behind his desk, walking past Worf to the door. It swished open for him, revealing the bridge. He stopped at the sight, pausing in the door and silently taking it in.

The bridge was empty. The center seats, the forward stations, Tactical were deserted. The faint, eerie greenish glitter on the viewscreen dominated the place, the only moving thing within sight. The silence was uncanny. Once again, he wondered a little at his own calm – a calm tinged, incredibly, with appreciation, with a faint sense of amusement.

"Well," he said after a moment, "that seems to answer one question at least."

There was no reply. After a couple of seconds he looked round – to see Worf scanning the bridge with narrowed eyes, his expression a mixture of blank incredulity and outrage, the muscles in his jaw working.

"It's all right, Lieutenant, we're hardly worse off than before."

Worf slowly shook his head, muttering something under his breath, some Klingon expression the captain couldn't quite catch. Probably just as well, he found himself thinking, very much aware of the adrenaline coursing through him and the sudden feeling of exhilaration. The situation was impossible – beyond his experience, beyond even his imagination. Desperation might come later, but for now he was aware only of the challenge – and of his own reactions to it.

"Very well," he said. "Let's see if the systems are still operational."

By the time he had checked Ops and Conn, Worf had finished with the aft stations. "Everything still online, sir."

"Thank you. We'll have to get some information next. The probes, the device, Data..." Without even being aware of it, he had settled into the command chair as he spoke. Worf leaned over the railing, waiting quietly. Picard thought.

It was all a little vague now (he had allowed himself to be distracted, hadn't he?), but he was quite sure that Will had told him of Data's sudden disappearance the morning after they had returned from Mavvion. Geordi had been wearing the device then. So had Deanna. Will hadn't. Somebody – Geordi, most probably – must have realized that Data would present an insurmountable obstacle to going in search of whatever it was the device was promising him. And somehow I doubt that he himself knows what that might be.

Evidently nobody had expected him to prove an obstacle at first. He remembered speaking with Troi that second evening. Her warmth and concern had been genuine, he felt quite sure of that. But so had her firm belief in the device – to the point where she wasn't even considering his misgivings any longer.

And her manner of speaking with him. He had noticed it only marginally then, but it all seemed to fall into place now. That uncharacteristic assurance, the way she pronounced on his feelings – misreading them, as it happened, an unprecedented mistake. Under normal circumstances when she was not entirely sure of her findings she would invariably say so. And there had been none of that What do you think? that had almost driven him to distraction occasionally, that care to tread gently when she had to put her own assessment into words or, worse, do some deliberate probing into his emotions, knowing full well that his was a mind that instinctively put up every defence it had.

For all that, and for all that had happened between them, he was sure she wished him well. And as a professional if not as an empath, she might even have kept part of her reason together. Both of which is more than can be said of some of the others at this point. Very well...

He rose. "Mr. Worf," he said, striding up the ramp as he spoke, "as long as we have to make do without Data Counselor Troi is still our best hope of finding out more about the device. We should also try to get our hands on one of the things."

Worf nodded briefly. "I will procure one from her."

"No, you won't. I don't want her intimidated; she'll be in a bad enough state as it is."

"I am not going to intimidate her, Captain," growled Worf, bristling. Picard tried to suppress a smile.

"But I think you might, Lieutenant, without even trying. Certainly in your present mood. No, I want you to go down to Engineering and try to get some sense into or out of Commander La Forge, regarding both Data and those probes. You are acting first officer. You have my permission to pull rank if it helps."

"You will remain here, Captain?" Worf asked suspiciously.

"No, I am going to do the same with regard to Counselor Troi."

"You cannot. It is too dangerous," Worf replied instantly, actually shifting a little on his feet as if he would have liked to block his way.

Oh, God, thought Picard, touched and exasperated and amused in almost equal proportions. He should have known what the combined offices of security chief and first officer in the person of Worf would lead to.

"Mr. Worf, we have a lot of work to do, and we don't have much time to do it. What could possibly happen to me between here and Counselor Troi's quarters? Besides, I am quite capable of looking after myself."

"Captain, that – " Worf began, then stopped. There was something to be said for the captain's point, after all. Still –

"You must not go unarmed."

"But I can't walk around my own ship with a sidearm. It would be inviting trouble. If people really feel threatened by me – and considering that I have a reputation for paranoia already..."

"I would prefer to accompany you, sir."

"Same objections, Mr. Worf. We'll meet up here once we have finished."

Worf frowned, and Picard had a feeling that he was rapidly running through whatever points he might still have in store. In the end, however, he merely said: "We must secure the bridge, Captain."

"Yes, I suppose so." He sighed. "Computer, restrict access to the bridge to myself and acting first officer Lieutenant Worf."

"Access restricted as specified," replied the computer.

"We had better hurry. That Cardassian negotiator – " He felt a chill pass through him at the thought of the possible developments. "Very well, let's go. That's to say – "

He paused and turned, already halfway to the turbolift, and tried again – just to make sure.

"Computer, locate Lieutenant Commander Data."

"Lieutenant Commander Data is not on the ship."

"Nonsense," said the captain, giving his uniform tunic a brisk tug. "Come on, Mr. Worf."

- - - - - -

Main Engineering was fairly quiet when Worf entered, but he had not expected anything else. With the ship sitting in the nebula, there wasn't much work to do. Usually Geordi would make the most of opportunities like this – checking, readjusting, experimenting – , but under Yellow Alert conditions there was little room to play with the equipment. Geordi was there, one hip planted on the central control table, chatting animatedly with a young Andorian woman in a science uniform. For a moment or two Worf considered taking exception to the presence of a crew member who clearly had no business here; then he decided against it. He had more important things to attend to.

"Now that's a surprise," said Geordi as he saw him, getting to his feet. "It's all right, Ml'vur, I'll get back to you. What can I do for you, Worf?"

"The captain wants to know what happened to Data", Worf replied succinctly.

There was a pause. "Wait a moment," Geordi said then, and there was a note of incredulous hilarity in his voice. "He's sent you down here to ask me that? Worf, he's been asking me the same thing about three times a day ever since he came back from that diplomatic mission, and I'm beginning to hear it in my sleep! Now you may not be aware – "

"I am aware," Worf broke in. "You, however, may not be aware that the captain believes you to be responsible for Data's disappearance. He wishes to know what you did with him."

"That's a joke," said Geordi.

Into the slightly charged silence that followed the remark, Worf said heavily: "We believe Data to be somewhere on the ship, deactivated. We are going to find him with or without your help. It would make things easier if you were to be of some assistance. It might also make up for some of your actions so far," he added, hoping Geordi would fill in the implications for himself. He didn't even know for sure whether or not Geordi had committed any actions that needed redeeming. The chief engineer tilted his head.

"Tell you what, Worf. I had a feeling the captain was getting rather caught up in those ideas of his, but I shouldn't have thought you quite so susceptible. Now I could take offense at this – I'd be perfectly entitled to. Data's my best friend, remember? I suggest we leave it at that, okay?"

"No," replied Worf. "The ship is in danger. We need Data. I will not accept any excuses this time. There is another thing," he added, raising his voice a little and cutting short whatever it was Geordi had been starting to say. "I must know if the probes we have placed to warn us of approaching ships have been tampered with. They report no ships in the vicinity. This may be true. If it is not we must replace them instantly."

"Well, who d'you think you're talking to?" exploded Geordi. "I, rigging a faulty probe so my ship can be taken over by the damn Cardies? I wasn't the one who got us into this mess, remember? If you're looking for someone to blame now I'd suggest – "

"Stop!" thundered Worf, cutting him short once again. He had a feeling that he knew what would have come next, and he had no wish whatsoever to deal with a case of blatant insubordination right now – he had other things to do. Geordi did stop, possibly simply out of surprise at the sheer volume of the demand. In fact every head in Engineering had snapped round.

"Right, okay. Look, Worf, I know you've a thing about security and all that. It's your job, and if you want to go along with the captain's fancies that's all right with me. But what you mean by it, coming down here and ordering me around – "

Worf pulled himself up a little. "You may also know that Commander Riker has been relieved of duty. I am acting first officer."

"Oh," said Geordi. "I hadn't been informed of that."

"You are now."

"Sorry, Worf, that's just not good enough. No offense meant, but you could be telling me anything here. Anyway, for the moment, whatever you are on the bridge, down here I'll thank you for remembering that I outrank you, Worf. And what you've just said – I might just take that from the captain, but from nobody else."

Worf stared at him for a moment, then he hit his communicator.

"That can be arranged. Worf to captain."

There was no reply.

"Worf to Captain Picard. Come in, sir."

Nothing.

All of a sudden, Worf had the feeling that everybody within hearing was listening intently to the exchange. He turned quickly, and there was Barclay studying a padd and some female pretending to work the keys on a console and the Zaldan, Szegi, bending over the central control table, not even bothering to hide his intense interest in what was going on. He turned back, too quickly for Geordi to wipe the last trace of amusement from his face, and at least had the satisfaction of seeing that expression vanish very suddenly as the chief engineer looked up into his face.

"Communications is down, Mr. La Forge."

"Oh, shit. I'll have my people look into it straight away."

There was a moment's silence. Worf drew himself up a little, his eyes narrowing, slowly, to black slits, and Geordi took half a step back and opened his mouth as if to say something preventive. For a second or two something seemed on the brink of snapping. Then, quite suddenly, Worf's posture relaxed. With a muttered curse that to Geordi sounded more like a snarl than anything else he turned on his heel and strode towards the turbolift.

Damn La Forge, he thought. He would have been delighted to resolve the issue then and there. He was fully aware that this would have included having it out with the best part of Engineering, and not wholly oblivious to the fact that a good fight would be immensely welcome just now, that something in him positively yearned for one – had been yearning for days now. But he was Chief of Security – yes, and acting first officer too – and his priorities were elsewhere. Communications was down. He couldn't contact the captain.

I must find him immediately, he thought.

- - - - - -