SHIP OF FOOLS

Chapter 14

The encounter with Lieutenant Benedetto had warned Worf that he might meet with open hostility at some stage, and he left the turbolift with a certain amount of caution. The corridors of Deck nine were very quiet. Once a door hissed shut somewhere to his right just as he was walking past an intersection, and he started and frowned in irritation. But he hadn't gone far when he heard steps approaching. He was drawing near to another corner, and somebody was coming from the other side, quickly. Reflex took over, and he had snapped into a battle crouch before realizing how very well he knew that particular footfall, just as the other man appeared round the corner.

"Captain!"

"It's quite all right, Worf. I'm unarmed."

Worf straightened, giving Picard a reproachful look. "Sir, I was concerned about your safety. I tried to contact you, but the communicator did not work."

"The link to the bridge is dead as well. Geordi's doing, I suppose. Any success?"

"Not much, sir. The Engineering crew appears to side with Commander La Forge. Naturally, he denies any knowledge of Commander Data. He grew angry when I asked him about the probes, though, and denied having tampered with them. I assume he was speaking the truth in this, and they are working correctly." He frowned, only now realizing that he had abandoned his quest for information about Data the moment communication had been lost. Fortunately Picard didn't ask any further.

"Well, that's something to be grateful for. I haven't been much luckier myself. I can't trace this Doctor Maruk. Counselor Troi doesn't believe he would have caused damage deliberately, but – "

Worf gave a sound between a soft snarl and a snort, and Picard nodded. "I agree. There's another thing. By now I seem to be attracting some unfriendly attention here. What about you?"

Worf was about to answer when a babble of voices arose from the far end of the corridor.

"I think we had better make ourselves scarce, Lieutenant," Picard said quickly. "Come on."

Worf half-expected further problems with the computer, but apart from asking for their clearance as it should the turbolift deposited them on the bridge without more ado. It didn't make him feel any more comfortable. In fact he remarked, the moment the doors were hissing shut behind them: "Sir, I believe there are difficulties ahead. Just now, the turbolift did not immediately recognize my voice print."

Picard frowned, taking it in while checking the readings from the probes on Worf's console.

"By now I wonder how much of this is sabotage and how much is malfunctions as a result of it. This seems to be working. Let's decide our next step, shall we."

"Not here, sir," Worf replied firmly.

"Worf, I really – " The captain interrupted himself with a sharp sigh. "Very well. The intercom is damaged. It can't do any harm to be cautious."

In the shielded security of his ready room he slid into his chair and leaned back with some relief. Worf fidgeted, then he anticipated his request by sitting down himself. He looked so uncomfortable that Picard was tempted to tell him to get up again if it suited him, but as that would have made his Chief of Security even more uncomfortable he held his peace.

"Well," he said. "Conference. No ships in the vicinity yet. If those probes are performing as they should we have at least seven hours' warning of any advancing ship, and we should have about sixteen hours left before they start to break down – possibly more, but we can't depend on that. We must find either Data or a means to neutralize that device, and since we don't know what we are dealing with, finding Data looks like the better option. He's our best chance of counteracting that thing anyway."

Worf nodded once.

"We're proceeding on the assumption that Data is on the ship, and that the internal sensors have been manipulated so they don't pick him up, but obviously we can't search the Enterprise between us." He looked at Worf, expectantly. "Suggestions, Lieutenant?"

"We can eliminate certain places," said Worf, promptly getting up from his seat as if speaking while sitting down was too much to ask of him. "All lived-in spaces. All places Commander La Forge could only access with the help of others. At the same time he must make sure that it is a place seldom visited. He could not trust others to keep silent about this."

"Especially as he seems to have been one of the first to fall under the spell of that thing. He must have been acting almost single-handedly," Picard said thoughtfully.

"A place he himself can visit without attracting attention," concluded Worf. "A cargobay?"

"They must have been searched very thoroughly. Commander Riker told me he had been over the ship with a fine comb, and he had no cause for lying to me then. I somehow don't think so."

"A tube or maintenance shaft?" Worf said, doubtfully.

"I hope not," Picard sighed. "Anyway, there's always the danger of someone coming that way in the course of their work. Places where nobody ever goes would be a more likely choice. But they, too, would have been included in a thorough search."

"Even a thorough search would not include very small spaces. La Forge could have disassembled Data to a degree. It would make concealment easier."

The captain closed his eyes for a moment. "Thank you, Lieutenant," he said quietly.

Worf frowned. "Sir – ?"

"Nothing," said Picard, opening his eyes. "It's just that of all the ghastly possibilities... Never mind. It is a possibility. For the moment I prefer to think that Geordi is still Geordi, and that he won't risk serious harm to Data if he can help it. That's what Counselor Troi thinks, too, and in this I actually agree with her... And there's another thing. He's an engineer, and he's sabotaging this ship. Wouldn't he choose a location he has some control over? Something that's safe from other people intent on damage? What would Geordi think of first?"

Worf's eyes narrowed. "I would have said the battle bridge, Captain, if it were not for the possibility that it will be needed soon in our defense."

That's what you would think of first, thought the captain. Geordi, however...

"The escape pods," Worf went on. "Facilities like the emergency transporter rooms. Engineering stores..." He interrupted himself again when he saw Picard pressing his fingers to his temples. "Sir, if..."

"No, no!" the captain interrupted. "Go on. I'm listening. It's just that I still feel we are missing something. I almost had it just now, but – " He looked up, a little ruefully. "Go on."

"Airlocks, possibly," Worf said, sounding as if he was running out of ideas. "They are not usually needed, and some might regard them not as parts of the ship proper. Thus the search parties – " He stopped once more. "Captain, you truly are not well."

"But I am." Picard opened his eyes again; somewhat to Worf's surprise there was an amused gleam in them. "I'm very well. Worf, that's it – it isn't part of the ship proper. I've just remembered – something that came up when I discussed some details of the Fragan VI summit with Geordi. Originally I was supposed to escort the more important of those delegates myself, and it was just mentioned and discarded in half a sentence. We never wasted another thought on it. But Geordi may well have remembered it afterwards. In fact I have a hunch that he has." The captain looked up into Worf's face, a positively impish smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. "The Calypso, Lieutenant."

"Sir?" said Worf, rummaging in his memory for whatever vessels the Enterprise might have had contact with during their absence on Mavvion.

"The captain's yacht," Picard explained.

Worf knew there was such a craft, but he never thought about it, let alone saw it used. The purpose it was supposed to serve – diplomatic representation at its most ostentatious – was anathema to the captain, who generally preferred getting down to work as quickly as possible. The elegant little vessel was thus largely forgotten in its own docking port on the underside of the saucer section; certainly no routine search would include it.

"I'm not even sure the internal sensors could pick up anything inside it if they did work. And then Geordi did all he could to keep me from thinking about parts of the ship we hadn't been over yet – "

Worf frowned. "This is a far shot. You might still be wrong, Captain."

"Of course I may be wrong. I think it's the way Geordi thinks, that's all." And then twenty years in diplomacy did teach you to take note of half-finished asides, of course. But Worf was looking unconvinced; clearly, he was far from happy with the idea.

"But you said it was only a hunch."

"Come, Mr. Worf," Picard said pleasantly. "If I had called it warrior's instinct you wouldn't have any objections."

Worf frowned again, trying to think of a convincing answer to that and failing dismally. For a moment, another thought intruded. There had been a time when he would have found it impossible to come to any sort of terms with the captain's referring to himself, however obliquely, as a warrior. That time was past – well past. Although where the captain was concerned fighting – in fact any potentially dangerous situation – was still very much his, Worf's, business. It took him straight to his next question.

"You will remain here, Captain?"

Picard considered. "No," he said at last. "With no communications and no way of knowing what we'll find on the way I believe we should stay together. If the worst comes to the worst and we have to warn our negotiator off we may even be able to use the Calypso." He rose and tugged his tunic down. "In fact, is there any way you can feed the readings from those probes down to the Calypso's stations?"

"There may be, Captain, but I would not attempt it. It might attract attention."

"True." He looked at Worf for a long moment. "So we're blind from the moment we leave the bridge."

"Yes, sir."

Picard nodded, pulled his tunic down again – front, back – and headed out onto the bridge.

"We can still take some precautions. Remove our communictors, for example, seeing that they don't work for us anyway... Computer, recognize Picard, Jean-Luc, Captain, alpha two clearance."

It cheeped. "Priority clearance recognition alpha two acknowledged," replied the voice readily.

"Transfer all command functions to me personally. Accept related orders and inquiries from me only."

"Transfer complete," said the computer after a moment.

"Just how far can we rely on that, at this stage?"

"I do not know, Captain. You would have to try them out, one by one."

"No time for that." Picard took another look at the readings on the Tactical console. "Still seven hours. Come on, Lieutenant."

"Deck sixteen," said the captain on entering the turbolift. It began to move without delay, and Worf frowned.

"Sir, if Data was in the Calypso I would expect attempts to prevent us from going there. But the lift does not seem – "

At that moment the lift was beginning to slow down.

"So would I," Picard agreed rather dryly. "Computer, what's the matter?"

"Access to Decks fourteen, fifteen and sixteen is restricted due to maintenance work in progress," the computer replied just as the lift was coming to a dead stop.

"Override," Picard said hopefully.

"Unable to comply. Railing has been partly dismantled."

"It has not," said Worf emphatically. "They could not have done that unnoticed."

"Well, I agree, but that doesn't help us. Apparently we are halfway between Decks thirteen and fourteen." He raised his voice a little. "Computer, Deck thirteen."

There was no reaction whatsoever. Unsurprised, Picard looked up, thoughtfully scanning the hatch in the turbolift ceiling.

"I've been thinking before that they could have made those hatches a little more accessible."

"You can easily reach it if I lift you, sir," Worf said, following his gaze.

"Well, yes. I think it'll be a better idea if I give you a leg-up and you open the hatch and climb out."

Worf frowned. "Why?"

"Because, Mr. Worf, I can hold you up for a few moments, but I'm afraid I couldn't haul you through that hatch. You, on the other hand..."

Worf's frown deepened. The thought had already occurred to him as well, in fact, but for all its logic it felt vaguely inappropriate. Still, it wasn't something he would tell the captain.

"Yes, sir," he said.

- - - - - - -

"Damn," said Geordi La Forge, letting his hands fall back onto the console with a thud.

"What's the matter, Geordi?" Barclay asked, ambling over.

"The computer's accepted his override. I thought I had made sure it wouldn't."

"We'll get to the bridge somehow and sort it out – cut our way through if necessary. It'll just take more time, that's all."

"No help there, Reg. He's transferred the command functions to himself. My fault, really – I just didn't think of that one. Given the time I could reprogram the bridge systems all right, but somehow I don't think you could reprogram that man."

"Well," said Lieutenant Barclay, "it's such a shame we don't have Data with us right now."

Geordi threw him an annoyed look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing!" protested Barclay. "N-nothing at all. Just – er – thinking."

"Computer," Geordi said sharply, "locate Captain Picard."

There was a delay – quite a noticeable one. Then the computer said: "Captain Picard is on the bridge."

"He isn't, damn it. He's anywhere but. What's the point of transferring command functions to himself else? Computer, locate Lieutenant Worf."

Pause. "Lieutenant Worf is on the bridge."

"Shit," Geordi said clearly. Without turning, he could feel Barclay's delighted grin in his back.

- - - - - - -

"Well – !" The captain looked round in the empty corridor on Deck thirteen they had reached by way of the turboshaft ladder while Worf was trying to shut the door manually.

"It will not close, sir," he said after a moment. "Should I remove the panel and – "

"No, leave it. Sooner or later Geordi will find out what we're doing anyway, and then there'll be trouble. We don't have too much time. I think our best hope of getting to the Calypso lies this way."

Worf promptly abandoned the door and took up a position half a step ahead of him, suspiciously scanning the doorways on both sides. The corridor was curiously silent. I do hope I'm right and this isn't a wild-goose chase, Picard found himself thinking, suddenly less than certain that his instincts had been right. I have a feeling there's trouble ahead –

"Here, sir. Maintenance shaft fifteen-A." Worf was already opening the access hatch; then, after a suspicious glance back over his shoulder, he put his head in for a look up and down. "There appears to be nobody there."

This is all much too simple, Picard thought, and then: Now you are being paranoid. Geordi can't possibly control all of this all the time, and he can't have told many others. Get on with it.

As if on cue, Worf said: "This may still be a trap, Captain," while already climbing into the opening. With an inward sigh Picard followed, briefly acknowledging to himself how tired he was, and how very unreal all of this was feeling, and wondering for a fleeting moment if he was about to wake up with a start and find himself back in his quarters at some point much earlier in the proceedings. It wouldn't surprise me in the least. He hadn't been sleeping too well during the last few nights.

The uncanny quiet held for the next three decks, the only sounds being those of their boots on the clamps, and the echoes travelling up and down the shaft. By the time they reached the bottom Picard was forcefully reminding himself that this was a part of the ship that was fairly quiet at the best of times. Worf listened for a few seconds, his ear almost touching the hatch, and then pushed the panel outwards.

A few steps down the corridor brought them to a door leading to the airlock, and the Calypso's docking port, and still there was no obstacle, no challenge, not a sound. Worf was frowning again, and on reaching the door he asked: "Captain, are you certain of this?"

"No," Picard replied a little grimly. A moment later he realized that the door wasn't opening even though he had tapped the appropriate keys on its panel. The wave of relief washing over him almost made him smile. This is ridiculous. But the look Worf threw him was just as relieved.

"Computer, why doesn't this door open?"

"Opening mechanism has been deactivated," replied the computer.

"Override."

"Unable to comply." And then there was a shrill chittering sound which he had never heard before but which made Worf grind his teeth rather audibly. Picard gave his Chief of Security a questioning look.

"Step back, Captain," said Worf, producing a small Type-I phaser from somewhere beneath his sash. Picard's eyebrows rose; he knew perfectly well that the phaser was there, but usually a polite fiction of its nonexistence was kept up. Worf adjusted the setting, took aim and fired.

Burning through the heavy door took its time, and Picard was uncomfortably aware of the passing seconds, and of his own nerves, as he stood looking up and down the corridor while the smell of burning duranium grew stronger. They can't possibly be unaware in Engineering of what's going on here, or can they?

The hiss of the phaser stopped abruptly. "Done, Captain," said Worf. "The closing mechanism is down."

Just as Worf was shoving the airlock open there was a swishing sound from somewhere behind. They turned as one, seeing an engineer emerge from behind an opening door some distance away; Worf was resetting his phaser without so much as a look at it. Picard took a quick step in front of him.

"Captain!" said the man in undisguised surprise. Behind him, another man was moving about in a laboratory.

"Yes, Crewman?"

"Er... anything I can help you with, sir?" Behind his back, Picard could feel Worf bracing himself. But there was a hum of machinery coming from that room. There might be more people in there. They most definitely couldn't risk trouble now. The captain shook his head, shifting his weight in order to get a quick look at the man's right temple.

"No, thank you. Carry on." On a flash of inspiration he added: "This door was jammed just now. I may request your help if we encounter more malfunctions."

"Ah, yes." The engineer nodded. "We've had minor problems with the hardware all along down here." A doubtful pause. "You sure you don't need us, sir?"

"Quite sure." With an infinitesimal nod he indicated that the interview was at an end. After another pause the man said: "Yes, sir," and retreated back into the laboratory. There was a soft hiss of released breath coming from behind. Picard turned to look up at his henchman. "So apparently that turbolift was working when these men arrived for their shift."

Worf's response was a brief snarl, but he turned to edge through the opening without further comment. Picard followed, fighting that sense of unreality again. This isn't my ship. At the other end of the airlock, Worf was already busy phasering the second door.

The Calypso's corridor, when the hatch finally opened before them, was dark and silent. The dim emergency lighting went up the moment the captain set foot on the vessel, but his automatic "Computer, lights" produced nothing but a soft chitter.

"Computer," he said without much hope, "locate Lieutenant Commander Data."

Another chitter. "Internal sensors off-line," replied the computer. "Insufficient power.

"

"Then the engines cannot be activated either," said Worf. "Sir, we could not launch this vessel if we found ourselves trapped here."

"Damn," Picard said softly. "So much for using her to warn our negotiator off... never mind. You take the rooms on the right side. I'll take the left."

Searching the small ship didn't take them long. Picard had finished with his side when he came upon Worf, standing with his back to him in the door of one of the staterooms. Without turning the Klingon said: "You were right, Captain."

He pushed past Worf and stopped, almost taken aback to see, finally, what he had been expecting to see at some stage – the motionless body of Data, prone on the carpet in the middle of the room. Too easy, the voice in the back of his mind said as he knelt by Data's side and felt for the tiny deactivating switch.

He could feel the switch turn under his fingers. There was no reaction. He waited a few seconds, then gripped Data's shoulder and shook him gently.

"Data!"

Nothing. Behind his back he could hear Worf fidgeting. He tried the switch again, feeling his stomach lurch a little. It was oddly unsettling, treating his second officer like the machine he was. Still no reaction, and now Worf said: "Captain, we cannot remain here. We must get back to the bridge as soon as possible."

"I know. Will you take him to the transporter?"

Worf nodded briefly, holding the phaser out to him. He took it, watched Worf hoist Data onto his shoulders, and led the way to the Calypso's tiny transporter bay. At first glance the console appeared to be in standby mode, but when he activated it there was an ominous delay before the readouts lit up.

"Mr. Worf, I have a feeling we shouldn't try to use this transporter all at the same time. The whole system could be going down any moment."

Wordlessly, Worf deposited Data's body on the platform and stepped back. Picard quickly keyed in the destination and activated the transporter, and instead of the familiar glitter of the transporter effect there was only a brief chitter from the console, and then silence. The captain thought he could hear another soft snarl a few steps away.

"Computer, what happened?" he asked sharply.

"Access to the bridge has been restricted to Captain Picard and acting first officer Lieutenant Worf."

Picard turned his eyes briefly towards the ceiling.

"Of course. Computer, access to the bridge is to be granted to Lieutenant Commander Data as well."

"Acknowledged."

"Thank you. Shall we try again?"

A moment later Data's body vanished in a haze of glittering specks.

"You next, Captain," Worf said with some urgency. "I will follow immediately."

He nodded, mounted the transporter platform, and watched Worf handle the controls, and just as he thought he could hear the humming of the transporter start up the lights went down with a low whine, and the slab under his feet went dark.

He drew a few deep breaths, forcing his voice to sound calm.

"Computer, what's the matter?"

"Main power – " said the computer, and then there was a chitter and a crackle, and then silence.

For one incredulous moment they just looked at each other in the dim light.

"Let's get out of here," said the captain, and made for the door.

- - - - - - -