SHIP OF FOOLS

Chapter 15

"You sure could have solved some of our problems up there, don't you think?" Ensign Westaway took an angry swig from his tumbler, and Sam Lavelle found himself thinking, uncomfortably, that they weren't really supposed to be hanging around Main Engineering with their drinks – but then Commander La Forge had clearly seen them, and didn't seem to mind. I suppose it's all right – what harm could it do anyway? And now Szegi said: "He'll get us all into trouble if he can, and you just let him walk away."

"Well, what could I have done? I didn't even have a phaser. And if I'd had one – use it on the captain?"

"The point is, you didn't even try to do anything about it!" said Westaway.

"You're damn right. I didn't. I... well, I just didn't. He's my commanding officer, right? And he has that way of spearing you just by the way he looks at you – and he sort of pulled himself up – "

"All five foot eight of him?" sneered Szegi.

"Oh, come off it," Lavelle replied with a short disgusted sigh. "You two, you talk and talk – next time you want to have a go at facing down the captain, just tell me in advance, and I'll be there to cheer you on."

Szegi gave a barking laugh and slapped him on the shoulder, instantly reconciled. "We will," he promised. "We will."

- - - - - - -

The captain had almost begun to hope that they might make their way back to the bridge without obstruction. Nobody had tried to prevent them from leaving the Calypso and returning to Deck thirteen. The corridors were still strangely quiet; some civilians they encountered appeared to be indifferent to them, device or no device – and in fact the majority of them were wearing it quite openly. The turbolift, however, took a long time to arrive, and finally Worf, who had been scanning the junction of corridors in their backs uncomfortably, said: "We should try another stop, sir."

Picard nodded, having just come to the same conclusion; but as they rounded the corner their luck ran out. Striding along the corridor with Ensign Ryan in tow came Commander Riker – to stop abruptly when he saw them. Ryan was sporting the device like some decoration, but Will... Picard's eyes searched Riker's face with sudden hope, but yes, there it was, almost invisible against the first officer's dark hair and beard.

"Captain!" said Riker, somewhat surprised.

Picard felt Worf move up to his side, phaser in hand.

"Yes, what is it?"

"Good thing we've met, sir. You must take the ship out of this nebula – put that damn thing down, Worf, I'm not going to attack you. I tried to reach you, but the intercom isn't working properly. Captain, you wouldn't believe the ideas some people have. I've heard the security lot talk about teaching the Cardassians a lesson. Exobiology's gone mad. We must stop this, and we need help."

"Nobody is taking the ship anywhere, Will. We have an assignment, and at least while we're sitting here my crew can't harm outsiders. Until I have regained control of this ship we're not moving. And as for you – a few hours ago you were trying to relieve me of my command."

"I may have been a little rash, sir, in that case I beg your pardon. But you must do something. The Cardassian ship should be within sensor range by now, but it isn't, and the equipment has already started to deteriorate. This assignment is just a set-up."

"Possibly. Possibly not. Will, I must get back to the bridge now."

"Sir, please, just listen. I've heard them talking about it. You'll never get them to go along with this, and I can't even say I'm surprised. We have to get out of here now before somebody tries to do something spectacular. I tell you, they're taking the ship to pieces while we're talking!"

"Yes, we have noticed that. I'll see what I can do about it. Will – "

"At least let me come along, Captain. We must get out of here. I could help."

"Not as long as all you say and think is influenced by that thing. And we're not leaving."

Riker groaned. "Captain, not again! We've been over this – "

"Indeed we have," Picard interrupted sharply. "Will, if you want to help, keep an eye on Geordi. I have every reason to believe that he is responsible for much of this mess, including the communications breakdown. Apparently we both want this ship functional, so these are your orders."

After a moment's silence Riker said coldly: "Understood, sir," and when Picard just stood there, waiting, he nodded to Ryan and moved off. The captain waited until they were well out of sight before he started walking in the opposite direction, trying to make sense of the encounter. At least Will still feels responsible for the ship – for what it's worth under the circumstances.

"Well, Mr. Worf," he said with the ghost of a smile, "it seems it's still down to you and me."

"Yes, Captain," the Klingon said simply. Picard looked at him askance. Had that been an undertone of satisfaction in Worf's voice?

"You don't seem unduly concerned, Lieutenant."

"It is my duty to protect my ship and my captain. I shall endeavor to do so."

There was no doubt about it now. To a certain extent Worf was enjoying himself. With a slight edge of exasperation to his voice Picard began: "Mr. Worf, I would appreciate – ," and then he stopped himself. There were some issues he had learned not to argue with Worf. Anyway, we're both lightheaded. He must be as tired as I am – he's hardly slept at all during the Mavvion mission, and since then... I'll have to do something about it before we both conk out.

The next turbolift was almost in view when they found their way blocked. "Come on," said a voice some ten meters ahead, and a moment later the corridor seemed to be filling up with people. Picard felt Worf tense, and then the hiss of a door in his back caused him to look back over his shoulder – to see two more emerging, taking up a position in the middle of the corridor. The group ahead, he saw now, was smaller than it had at first appeared. Ensigns N'Guyn and Kellogg and Crewman Kalish of Security and Ferguson of the stellar cartography department and a vaguely familiar civilian. He picked out N'Guyn before Worf, close behind his right shoulder, had an opportunity to address his subordinates.

"Well, Ensign? What's this all about?"

N'Guyn evidently hadn't been prepared for the question, for he promptly began to stammer. "Sir, we'd... that's to say, you..." Then he pulled himself together. The next sentence came out smoothly, like something he had been rehearsing in his mind. "I'm sorry, Captain, but you'll have to come with us for the moment. We can't allow you to return to the bridge just now."

Picard heard something like a very soft snarl to his right. Worf was evidently losing patience with the situation. A little quicker than intended he said: "That's where I am going, though. Now if you'd just let me pass – "

"I can't do that," said N'Guyn, almost apologetically, and at that moment Picard caught a sudden quick movement out of the corner of his eye. Reflexively, he dodged the blow from behind, and a fraction of a second later Worf whirled, lashed out, and slammed the attacker into the bulkhead with a ruthless blow that made Picard wince. The second man fell back, staring, but now Kalish in front was suddenly holding a phaser. Worf shouted a warning just as the captain's boot connected with the man's hand, sending the phaser flying. The next seconds were a blur. Somewhat incredulously Picard found himself with his back to the bulkhead, countering a blow from Ferguson, then another; then his knuckles caught the man on the side of the head, and Ferguson reeled backwards and into N'Guyn before he collapsed in a heap. Ensign Kellogg was scrambling for Kalish's weapon as Worf raised his own phaser and fired, stunning her at point-blank range, and then fired again, noticing something odd about the sound the phaser made this time – and when he pressed the button for the third time there was a hiss and a sputter, and the weapon fizzled out in his hand. Depleted, he realized, after having been used to cut through three duranium doors. He flung it at Kalish, furious at himself, at his subordinates, at the whole of the Enterprise crew and at Starfleet on top of it all, and bent to pull his knife from its sheath in his right boot. The civilian hurled himself at him as he straightened up again, evidently hoping to find him unprepared. He slammed his fist into the man's chin, looking round for the captain. Picard was still on his feet a few meters away, somehow holding his own against Kalish, but by now N'Guyn was advancing on him as well, Kalish's phaser in hand, and on pure instinct Worf flung up his hand and threw. There was a bright flash and a wild scream, and for a moment the captain was as incredulous as the man who now held out his hand, staring, a small trickle of blood collecting in his palm from under the hilt of the thin blade that had neatly impaled it. The phaser skidded to a halt inches from Picard's boot, and the captain put his foot on it before Kalish had a chance to retrieve it. A moment later Worf, coming up at his subordinates from behind, took N'Guyn and Kalish by one shoulder each and jerked them both out of the way.

"Are you all right, Captain?"

"Yes." Picard drew an audible breath; then he bent and picked the phaser up from the floor. "Let's get back to the bridge, shall we?"

Worf took a quick look round before turning to go. Kellogg and two of the others were still on the floor; Ferguson was just scrambling to his feet. The civilian sat with his head in his hands, moaning. N'Guyn and Kalish were looking back at him, silently, blood dripping from N'Guyn's hand. No danger here now, he decided.

"That was..." Once inside the turbolift, Worf searched for the appropriate term for a moment, and then said simply: "You fight well, sir."

"Thank you," Picard replied unhappily. Then, pulling himself together, he added: "I almost wish you wouldn't train your security quite so well."

"Sir – !" said Worf, a note of reproach in his voice.

"And I knew there is a phaser under that sash of yours, Mr. Worf, but I didn't know you keep a knife in your boot."

"It has proved useful," Worf replied, matter-of-factly, and then the turbolift deposited them on the bridge.

The first thing Worf did was to open a locker and produce a tool kit while the captain went to check the readings on the aft consoles. "Nothing. No ships in the vicinity. Seven hours' warning they say, and apparently the bridge is still safe," he concluded, joining Worf again in the central well where the Klingon was kneeling over Data with a small scanner in his hand. Worf had opened a panel in the back of Data's head and was looking at the circuitry, frowning.

"What's the matter with him, Worf?"

"I believe La Forge interrupted the power flow from the reactivating switch to the commander's positronic brain. Captain, I am not supposed to know about the location of the switch. Do you remember if you left it in the on or the off position?"

After a moment of confusion Picard very nearly laughed. "The on position I believe. Worf, what do you mean by 'not supposed to know'?"

"The commander prefers it to be secret. However, it is information relevant to my duties," Worf replied cryptically, reaching for another small tool. From the corner of his eye he could see the captain giving him a quizzical look before turning his attention back to Data, apparently willing to let it pass. There was something weighing on Worf's mind, however, something that couldn't wait. He had to get it over with. Drawing a deep breath, he began: "Sir – "

"Mhm?" said Picard, still intent on Data.

"I wish to apologize for my negligence."

Picard blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"I failed in my duty, sir, and put both the ship and your safety at risk. It should not have happened."

"Lieutenant, what the hell are you talking about?"

"I did not recharge my phaser when I had the opportunity, sir," Worf stated with painful determination. "Since I knew what might happen on our way back I should have taken precautions. I failed to do so."

"When would you have had the opportunity to recharge your phaser?"

"Aboard the Calypso – sir."

"Oh," Picard said blankly. "I see."

"It never occurred to me," added Worf, set to make matters as clear, and as damning, as possible.

"Worf," the captain said, "I suggest you forget about it this instant. It never occurred to me either."

"No, sir. I, however – "

"Yes, yes, I know. What I don't know is how you could have remembered a thing like that down there. So stop wondering how you could have kept me any safer than you did, will you?"

"Yes, sir," Worf said, reluctantly and, as usual, not sure that the captain was taking security as seriously as he should. But Picard evidently considered the matter settled. With a mental sigh Worf bent over Data again, and then, quite suddenly, Data's head jerked. Worf started, then caught himself.

"Extraordinary," said Data, hoisting himself up into a sitting position and feeling for the open panel. "This is the bridge. I distinctly remember being in Astrophysics. I was not aware that you are back, sir."

"We've been back for a few days now, Data. What does your internal clock say?"

Data frowned, a good approximation of human puzzlement. "Sir, I would greatly appreciate an explanation."

"In my ready room," Picard said before Worf could open his mouth. "This will take a while, and we are not sure whether or not we're being overheard here. And in fact I would like an explanation from you, Data. Are you all right?"

"I appear to be, Captain." Data closed the panel and rose, looking round the empty bridge with obvious interest and waiting until Picard and Worf had got to their feet as well. In his ready room the captain slid into his seat and folded his hands before him. Data took one of the chairs opposite; Worf remained on his feet.

"Well, Data. What's the last thing you remember?"

"I was assisting Geordi in the astrophysics department. A piece of equipment appeared to be malfunctioning, and they were unable to determine the cause of the problem." Data paused, looking doubtful. "There was no solution that presented itself. I was about to remove an access panel with the aid of a technician when I passed out, to use the vernacular. I assume I have been deactivated."

"You have. So there was someone else, besides Geordi?"

"Yes, sir. Crewman Myers."

"Myers," echoed the captain, and then he grew very still. Data looked at him innocently.

"Is this significant, sir?"

"He's dead," replied Picard, his voice flat. "An accident. I had forgotten... I really forgot all about that. Data, was there any mention of a wire device – something supposed to put you in touch with your subconscious goals and desires?"

"Yes, sir," Data said readily. "Geordi had received such a device from Counselor Troi. He was very taken with it – even more, I believe, than Counselor Troi herself. In fact he displayed an enthusiasm which I found slightly disturbing. It appeared to me to be based on insufficient evidence. I was not convinced of the device's harmlessness. In fact I was of the opinion that it should be regarded with great caution."

"I suppose you told him so."

"Yes, sir. I strongly suggested that it might be wise if I was to take it and run some tests on it."

"That's why he deactivated you. It's all over the ship by now."

"I see," Data said calmly. "Even so, this is a course of action I should not have expected Geordi to take."

"Data, Geordi's not himself – no more than any of the others," Picard said gently. "It doesn't mean a thing. There is something at work here which we must get under control, and quickly too. Briefly, the situation is – "

"I see," Data said again when the captain had finished. "It would appear that we should ascertain whether the probes are functioning correctly, try to regain control of the ship by means of the main computer, and develop a method of counteracting the device – if possible before the Cardassian negotiator arrives."

Picard's lips twitched. "Yes, Data, I believe that is an accurate summary."

Data nodded. "I will need the device you have procured from Counselor Troi, sir."

"It's here, but I must warn you – it's the only one we have. We might try to replicate it, but somehow I doubt it's as easy as that." Picard frowned; then he asked: "Data, can you work with these facts?"

Catching the tiny variation in the captain's voice, and analyzing it even while he opened his mouth to answer, Data said: "Probably, sir. However, it will require some time. The best way of determining the device's workings would be to observe its effects on an organic brain, but we do not have that option. I will have to find a different approach. Sir, according to the probes' readings there are still no ships in the vicinity. May I suggest that both you and Lieutenant Worf take the opportunity to rest?"

"Those probes won't be reliable for much longer I'm afraid. And what about the main computer?"

"I can easily keep an eye on the probes. I will try to establish an interface with the main computer. It should allow me to determine what has been sabotaged and how far the damage goes. I am quite capable of doing this by myself, sir. I will also conduct a self-diagnostic to identify any damage done to myself. There is little either of you could do to assist me, and I am under the impression that you would be the better for some rest."

"It's a tempting offer," the captain said with a very slight smile. "In fact... Data, I depend on you to wake me the moment anything happens, and I mean anything. In five hours at the latest. Is that understood?"

"Certainly, sir," said Data. "If that is all I will get to work immediately."

"There is one more thing," said Picard. "Thank you, Data. It's good to have you back."

Data nodded, rose, and left. Picard found himself staring blankly at the door for a few seconds after it had shut. He pulled himself together.

"Well, Mr. Worf, we should both take Data's advice I think. Find yourself some place to sleep – you'll need your faculties later on."

Worf frowned, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and then squared his shoulders. Wearily, Picard asked: "Yes, Lieutenant? What is it now?"

"Permission to remain and keep watch while you rest, Captain."

"Certainly not!" said Picard, aghast. "Whatever for?"

"You are no longer safe on this ship."

"I don't envision any member of my crew materialising in my ready room and stabbing me in my sleep. Besides, I need you functional."

"Captain, I would – "

Picard cut him off sharply. "Lieutenant," he said, "I order you to rest."

"I do not require rest!" snapped Worf, bristling.

There was a brief silence during which Picard looked up at him with a wide-eyed unwavering expression the Klingon recognized at once. They had been at this point a number of times before. Not a chance.

"Request withdrawn, sir," he growled after a couple of seconds.

"Good. In fact I order you to get a couple of blankets and sleep if you can." And when he found that Worf was still looking at him with a frown, he added firmly: "Dismissed."

The silence was roaring in his ears once Worf had left. The sight of a mug of cold tea on his desk reminded him of the fact that he hadn't eaten all day, and after a few seconds he mustered the energy to get to his feet, walk over to the replicator and order a salad, which he carried to his desk and ate without giving the food a second thought. According to the computer it was late afternoon. It might have been three in the morning for all he could tell. It took him a determined effort to rise once again and cover the distance to the sofa, but it was sheer relief to lie down, to take the weight off his feet and close his eyes. That Cardassian. I just hope to God he'll give us a little more time...

Lieutenant Worf, meanwhile, had entered the conference lounge with a blanket roll under his arm, deeply at odds with his commanding officer and not at all appeased when he found himself yawning even while he reflected on the inappropriateness of resting while his captain might be in danger. However, a direct order was a direct order, and Picard had left him no loophole. After scanning the room with disfavor he chose a spot by the wall near the starboard door, unrolled his blankets, vowed to himself that he would wake the moment his presence was required, and lay down.

- - - - - - -