SHIP OF FOOLS

Chapter 16

Main Engineering had looked better, Commander Riker couldn't help thinking. He felt a twinge of conscience as he became aware of the thought. Most of the consoles were deserted. A group of people, some in yellow, a few in blue, were hanging around the food dispenser, talking. Lieutenant Barclay had parked one hip on the central control table and was listening in, idly pushing keys on the padd he was holding. Through the transparent wall of the Chief Engineer's office the pale pillar of the warp core, humming softly in standby mode, looked oddly... unheeded. It all made Riker feel restless; he was tempted to raise his voice and send everybody about their respective businesses. And whether it was because it was of a piece with all the rest, or because of his own nagging discontent, he found Geordi's attitude increasingly annoying.

"Sorry, Will. You really should have made up your mind earlier." Geordi swiveled his chair away from the master console he had been working. Riker, standing in the middle of the office with his hands on his hips, shook his head.

"That's not good enough. There must be some way of getting out of here."

"I tried." Geordi gave him an affable grin. "What brings you here all of a sudden, anyway?"

"That Cardassian. Sensors really should have picked him up by now. He isn't even within range, unless those probes are malfunctioning. And the longer he keeps us waiting the more helpless we are. I just don't believe that's a coincidence. I'd like some options."

"You wanna get out of here? Take a shuttle," Geordi suggested. Then, realizing that the atmosphere was turning ugly all of a sudden, he grew professional. "I have tried, you know. I've tried to transfer Conn and Ops down here. The computer just tells me that it needs the captain's authorisation. I've tried to reprogram, and I can't – I might have managed in the end, but not with Data on the bridge. Did you know it's a kind of last-ditch thing, the captain transferring all command functions to himself? I could try cutting power to the bridge and a complete shutdown, and then initiate self-correct, but frankly I don't dare do that right now, not with the way the computer's behaving. It's not that I don't want my ship out of this damn cloud, Will. There's just no way of doing it – except you get the captain to stand down."

"You told him where to find Data, then?"

Geordi froze. After a moment he asked guardedly: "How do you know?"

"Barclay," Riker said briefly. "He worked it out when Worf insisted the internal sensors had been tampered with, and he tried to fix 'em and realized that he couldn't. Says there are just two people on this ship who could have achieved that. – Did you tell the captain?"

"No. Must have figured it out by himself." An awkward pause. "I didn't enjoy doing that, you know."

"I don't care, Mister. You did it. Right now I just want this ship functional and out of here before everything breaks down."

Geordi bit his lip. "No argument here. It all comes down to those command functions. And the captain won't listen."

"I know. I tried." Riker gave an involuntary sigh. "It's a no-win mission, so he'll see it through. And he's taken a stand regarding the device, so he won't budge. And we're dealing with Cardassians, so he'll prove to himself and everybody else that he can handle it. I thought I could do something about it – I don't want to get us all caught in here. It's a kind of obsession with him, really. But I'm not too sure about all of this either." He indicated the chatting group with a jerk of his thumb back over his shoulder. Geordi shrugged.

"They're all right, Will. There are a lot of people I can count on when it comes to leaving – I've made sure of that. They'll jump to it as soon as I give the word. I've made sure I can give them the word, too – rigged up a new com system when the intercom went down." He tapped the communicator on his chest. "They're not personalized any longer, but they work."

Riker's eyes narrowed. "Wait a moment. So you have sabotaged the intercom?" he asked, incredulously. "Geordi, what the hell do you think you're doing here? The captain said you had, and I thought he's raving! We're at yellow alert, man! Have you at least – " He took two quick steps to look at the displays on Geordi's console. "I don't believe this. Where's your backup personnel? Did you give them some of your fancy badges? How're you going to alert them when you need them? They're supposed to perform on five minutes' notice in an emergency, man! You know that. You –"

"Look, I had no choice. It was the only way – "

"You idiot, what if there is an emergency? Who's going to run this ship, and how? Get your team together and get the equipment back up, and be quick about it! Meanwhile I'd like one of those, if you don't mind. And a couple for Deanna and Beverly."

"Sure. Help yourself. There are some over there." Geordi got up from his chair. "Mind you, Will, I'm not required to take orders from you. And you realize we're not going anywhere unless we somehow get the captain to cooperate, don't you."

"Somehow," echoed Riker, pausing in the act of reaching for a handful of badges. There was a slow, singularly unpleasant smile beginning to spread over his face. Geordi couldn't quite see the smile, of course, but other things – the first officer's tone of voice, for one – served to warn him.

"Look, I'm not going to harm anybody. You know I wouldn't. I just don't want my ship taken to bits by the Cardassians, and I'll make sure they don't. That's all. It's in the captain's best interest as well as anybody else's, whether he sees it that way or not."

"Really." Riker crossed his arms. "Well, Mister, let me tell you something. One, you're not running this ship either. Two, he's still the captain, and you better keep that in mind. All right, so we have to get out of here. So he has a thing about the device. But beyond that I'm not having anybody walk over him."

"Hey, wait a moment. He's relieved you of duty, hasn't he? D'you know it's just a few hours since Worf was down here making a nuisance of himself as acting first officer?"

"Right, so what?" snapped Riker. "For all I know we're all relieved of duty. Or what do you think you're doing right now – your job? From what I can see you're just making sure you can go on playing. Oh, I know you got plans for this ship. Like everybody else. I don't know what your grand ideas are, and frankly I don't care. Just now I suggest you help me clear up the mess you've made, else nobody's ideas will do us much good. I'll have a word with Deanna – we must get this crew together somehow." And he swung out of the office without waiting for Geordi's answer.

"Go ahead, Commander," said Geordi, amused, to empty air. "Have it your way entirely. We don't exactly need you either." Then, seeing that Barclay had evidently taken note of Riker's abrupt exit, and was now looking over at him with intense and, as usual, slightly startled interest, he nodded to him to join him. "You heard that, Reg? Sounded like Captain Will to me."

"I t-think a lot of people will listen to him," Barclay said, looking harassed. "Doctor Crusher said... well, she, she said the way some people are carrying on, it's w-worrying her. They're reckless, she said."

"Oh, really. So we apologize and go back to ferrying bureaucrats?"

"I d-didn't say that!" Barclay was sounding flustered. "What are you going to do?"

"I'll tell you, though frankly, Reg, telling Will about Data wouldn't have been necessary. But I'd like you to help me with this, and it's about time we started."

- - - - - - -

"Bridge to Captain Picard."

The voice was, by any human standards, entirely neutral, but the captain was wide awake within a second. He sat up, swinging his feet to the floor. "Yes. What is it, Data?"

"I believe I have come across something you should know, sir."

"I'll be there in a moment." He was pulling on his boots as he spoke, and as he had lain down fully dressed otherwise he was on the bridge a few seconds later. Almost simultaneously, however, Worf appeared from the direction of the conference lounge and joined him at the aft station Data was occupying.

"What have you found, Data?"

"I have been trying to regain control of the main computer, sir, although so far with limited success. There is something peculiar going on in Main Engineering. Energy is being rerouted, and a number of systems appear to have been shut down, although this may be due to computer malfunctions. However, the energy transfer is a fact."

"Where is it being used?"

"I cannot tell, sir, but the amount is very considerable. Someone has apparently been trying to disconnect the bridge systems. I was able to prevent serious damage, but computer dependability is decreasing. I believe the attempt was aborted when it became obvious that it might result in the loss of bridge life support."

"I suppose the backup modules would still work."

"Yes, sir. However, it is possible that Geordi is not certain of this. The incident suggests that whatever he is trying to achieve, he is also determined to avoid harming you or Lieutenant Worf. Unfortunately I am currently unable to predict his next move."

The captain frowned, trying to get through to the implications of all this. From behind Worf's voice rumbled: "The probes report no ships in the vicinity, sir."

"I have not been able to establish whether or not the probes are functioning," said Data. "The evidence suggests they do. We may have approximately ten hours before serious damage will set in."

Picard nodded and then said, by way of experiment: "Computer, transfer Engineering to the bridge."

"Transfer not possible," replied the computer.

"Well, I suppose it was worth a try. We'll have a look at Main Engineering."

"You cannot go, sir", said Worf promptly. "It is too dangerous. They attacked you." His voice still implied the abysmal dishonor betrayed by the fact. Picard smiled a little.

"I remember. We still have to stop whatever's going on down there."

"I would prefer you to remain here, sir."

"I don't doubt that, Mr. Worf, but it's Data who must stay. He's the only one who can handle the ship right now."

"You might still stay with him."

"There must be two on that team – in case something goes wrong," said Picard, opening one of the bridge lockers and taking out a phaser..

"You could handle the bridge systems while Data and I go, sir," Worf suggested hopefully. "It would not take long."

"They may well try to gain access to the bridge once they realize we have split up," said Data.

Looking alarmed, Worf was opening his mouth to revoke his last suggestion when Data added: "However, as we cannot rule out the possibility that the probes are malfunctioning, and as going down to Engineering may be time-consuming and dangerous, it might be advisable for the captain to remain here. I do not believe the Cardassian negotiator would react favorably to being greeted by either you or me, Lieutenant."

"In that case I will have to remain too," Worf replied firmly.

"The wolf, the goat and the cabbage," muttered Picard, attaching the phaser to his hip after carefully checking the setting.

"Sir?"

"An old French story. A farmer is crossing a river with a wolf, a goat and a cabbage. He can only load one of them into his boat at each crossing, and he cannot leave the wolf with the goat, or the goat with the cabbage, unattended on either shore. There is a way of doing this, but it's rather complicated. – No, don't tell me!" he added quickly on noticing Data's suddenly eager expression. "It's really just an analogy. Worf and I will go."

Data nodded and went on without missing a beat. "I have modified some backup communicators in case such a situation should occur, sir. They should respond to one another and to the bridge. However, I have reason to believe that Geordi has been doing something similar, probably utilizing the normal commbadges."

"So they can use their badges, but we can't?"

"Yes, sir. However, under the circumstances I doubt theirs will still retain the personal coding. Any message sent will be received by anybody who activates the target communicator. I might have modified commbadges to similar effect, but considering the state of the intercom system I preferred using the emergency models."

The captain nodded, sliding the strap of one of them over his wrist. They were clumsy things, doubling as locator devices and with half the functions of a tricorder built into them – emergency gear. "We'll try to remain in contact, but whatever happens, your responsibilities are up here. Worf, you're with me. You have the bridge, Data."

"I suggest," said Worf, once inside the turbolift, "that we take them by surprise, stun everybody before they can raise an alarm, and seal off Main Engineering."

Picard sighed. "I don't suppose they'd listen to reason at this stage. Still, it sounds like a very Klingon approach, Mr. Worf. "

Worf hesitated for about half a second, gave him a sidelong glance in which Picard thought he saw a trace of amusement, and then stated: "There are situations that require a more Klingon approach, Captain."

"I'm afraid you are right. Heavy stun, then, and narrow beam."

"Understood, sir," Worf said, and then the turbolift stopped. Worf signaled for him to take cover on one side of the door while he moved to the other, raising his phaser. The door slid open. A crewman was standing by the central control table with his back to them, not turning quickly enough. Worf's beam caught him between the shoulder blades. Somewhere, someone gave a shout just as the man went down. Another man came into view, diving into cover behind the control table before they could get out of the turbolift, and a moment later a bright red beam hissed past them and hit the far wall of the car. Worf ducked, then darted out, taking cover on their side of the table while the next volley sizzled over his head. Picard could see him firing a few rapid shots in the direction of Geordi's office; then the man on the other side of the table raised his head, peering, and the captain's beam caught him before he could take cover again. Szegi, thought Picard mechanically, leaning out of the turbolift to pick off someone who came dashing into Engineering from the direction of the offices. A moment later he joined Worf, crouching down in the shelter of the table. "More, Lieutenant?"

"I cannot see, Captain."

"Computer," called Picard over the hiss of yet another phaser discharge. From the direction of the master monitor he thought he could see sparks flying. "Establish security forcefields to seal off Main Engineering from all adjacent rooms. Including the reactor core chamber!" he added as he caught movement there from the corner of his eye. The forcefields shimmered into place, and the hissing stopped abruptly. After a moment of silence Picard cautiously got to his feet.

"They were very quick to return our fire, Captain." Worf followed suit, dispassionately taking in the four or five crewmen on the floor of the control room. "Several were carrying sidearms. They must have been expecting to use them."

The captain surveyed his handiwork with a thoroughly unhappy expression. "There should be more people here. Where is everybody? Can you see Geordi?"

Worf took a few steps in the direction of the Chief Engineer's office, looking down on a crumpled form. "No. This is Russell. Sir," he added carefully, the growl creeping back into his voice, "the phaser that hit the master monitor was not set to stun."

"No, Worf, it wasn't. Let's get to work."

He was calling up a power distribution graph on an active console as he spoke, realizing almost dispassionately that Geordi's control of his team appeared to be shaky at best. At least, while Geordi might be reluctant to risk inadvertently cutting bridge life support, the chief engineer's scruples evidently weren't shared by everybody... The graph was a mess, he realized a moment later. This can't be true. Granted, he wasn't an engineer – in fact Worf was better at that sort of thing. But even so –

"Captain," said Worf abruptly from his own console, "we do not have any shields."

Impossible. "Bring them up to standby again – now!" replied the captain.

"No, sir. There are no shields. Power has been rerouted. Phasers are off-line as well. There is – " Worf was working frantically as he spoke – "there is no way to restore yellow alert conditions. I am trying to trace the power transfers."

"How did he do that?" Picard asked sharply.

"I do not know," replied Worf through clenched teeth. An array of lights on his console was flashing frantically by now. "This does not make sense."

"Worf," said Picard, "I think I've found it. All that power is going to the battle bridge. Phasers, shields – dear God, I think he's trying to separate the saucer section."

With a brief snarl, Worf spun to tackle the central control table. "There is a diagnostic cycle running on all systems to disguise the transfers. It appears to be locked in. I will have to break it before I can try to recalibrate or rerout."

"Do it," said Picard, appearing at his elbow. "And try to make sure things stay the way you leave them. Fuse the circuitry if you have to. I'm going up to the battle bridge. We must keep Geordi from taking this ship to pieces."

It took Worf a second to grasp the implications. Then he whirled. "You cannot, sir!"

"Worf," said Picard, trying to make his point in the shortest possible time, "you're better than I at sorting this out, and I can't wait for you to finish. We don't have the time. Join me once you're done here."

Worf muttered something incomprehensible as he dropped his phaser onto the table's shiny surface with a clatter and started working frantically. From somewhere in his back he heard Picard's voice instructing the computer to lower the forcefield long enough for him to enter the turbolift, and put it up again afterwards. I must be quicker about this. Breaking the diagnostic cycle alone could take forever. Horrible things could happen while he wasn't about. He jerked his thoughts away from it. At ease, Lieutenant.

This time, it didn't work at all.

- - - - - - -

The captain had been re-setting his phaser as he walked down the few meters of corridor between the turbolift stop and the battle bridge entrance, relieved that the computer still accepted his power level override. The short turbolift ride had given him a moment to decide on the next steps. He couldn't allow the separation – but at least, at the very least he had to prevent his chief engineer from getting away with the functional weaponry of a Galaxy-class starship. And I don't even know what he's up to. But whatever it might be, the implications were frightening.

Picard stepped out onto the battle bridge and into a scene of focused activity. There was Geordi as expected, bending over the Ops console and turning with a startled expression the moment the door opened, but he was not alone. Barclay was there too, squatting over a box of tools on the upper bridge level, as well as the pretty young woman of the hot chocolate incident – and suddenly the name flashed into his memory. Gomez. Lieutenant junior grade Sonya Gomez. Three, not one. He might just be able to deal with it. He walked down the steps towards Geordi, head held high.

"Well, that's a surprise, sir", the chief engineer said with more than a trace of nervousness.

"What are you doing here, Mr. La Forge?"

Geordi took him in – the missing commbadge, the emergency comm unit dangling from his wrist, the phaser in his hand. And the fact that he was alone, that the door was already hissing shut and nobody else was emerging.

"Just – uh, some alterations, sir. You see, I hadn't quite expected that particular command transfer. Should have known better." Geordi's grin held a touch of admiration. Picard could feel Barclay moving into position behind his back, but he couldn't turn now. Behind Geordi was the Ops console, and although he could not see the displays from where he was standing he felt quite certain that what had been going on there a moment before was an attempt to overrule or bypass the command functions in order to separate the engineering hull. He shifted his position a little, and Geordi moved with him, keeping between him and the console. It was all he needed to know. Picard raised his phaser.

"Step aside, Mr. La Forge."

"Hey, what – " Geordi hurriedly got out of the way when he saw the captain take aim. A bright beam lashed out and hit the console, and the shiny surface shattered straight away. From somewhere to the left Picard heard Geordi's voice yelling: "Wait! You can't do that, Captain!" but he was too intent on what he was doing to turn his head – hoping against hope that nobody would try something foolish now as sparks were beginning to fly and the console started to disintegrate under a level-nine phaser beam. It was the highest setting he dared use with the three others somewhere behind him, staring in disbelief at the sight of their captain taking his own bridge to pieces.

- - - - - - -

In Main Engineering, Lieutenant Worf clenched his teeth as his communicator made the chittering sound peculiar to these backup devices. He had his hands full – in every sense of the word, having just removed a panel in the central control table – and the awareness that he was kneeling with his back to a large open space, and had had to put his phaser down on the deck, made him feel acutely uncomfortable.

"Worf here," he snarled.

"Mr. Worf," Data's serene voice came over the commlink, "I have discovered a piece of information you might find useful."

"Please be quick about it, sir. I must rejoin the captain."

"Certainly," said Data, and began to expound.

- - - - - - -

On the battle bridge, Picard braced himself as he felt some movement behind his back. A moment later Barclay grabbed his left arm in a half-hearted attempt to pull him away, but the man was even more jittery than usual, and he shook him off without effort, hearing the clatter of his communicator as the device hit the floor. The phaser beam wavered, briefly hitting the readouts underneath the viewscreen and steadying again. Flames and smoke were erupting from the console now, and the sharp smell of melting circuits was growing stronger. The heat was intense. "Damn you, stop it!" shouted Geordi, voice cracking with frustration, and then: "Get a phaser, someone. The locker over there. Sonya!"

"No," squeaked Gomez. "Geordi, please – I don't want to – "

Geordi hit his commbadge. "Singh, you there? Come right up to the battle bridge. We've a problem here."

The captain switched his phaser off and turned to face his officers. "Get out of the way," he said, quietly. "I'll have to deactivate Tactical as well."

They moved hesitantly, Barclay lingering in the central well with his eyes on the phaser, Geordi trying to get behind Picard's back – playing for time, he realized. "Captain – !" said Lieutenant Gomez, almost pleadingly, very evidently at a loss. Picard raised his arm and fired again, one short blast that left a smoking black stain on the railing two steps away from Barclay. Plastic sizzled and hissed round the edges. Barclay retreated hastily, and he aimed his phaser at the Tactical console and fired. The beam drilled into the casing; there was a mad squeal that cut into him as if he had just killed a living thing, and the hiss and crackle of burning conduits. Smoke was billowing over the bridge now. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the door open. Lieutenant Singh raced in, Kalish and Walser in tow, stopped in his tracks for a second to take in the situation, and groped for his phaser. The captain terminated the beam and lowered his own weapon just as Singh raised his. "Don't move, sir!"

Picard stood still, obediently. "And what would you do if I did, Lieutenant – with a phaser set to level nine?"

"But you wouldn't, Captain," said Singh. "Still, I'd like that phaser of yours."

- - - - - - -

In Main Engineering Lieutenant Worf slammed the last panel into place, took a step back and raised his weapon. Welding the damned thing into the bulkhead might hide the fact that Yellow Alert status was well and truly sealed in now – for as many minutes as they would need to carefully remove the panel. He forced himself to do the job properly although all his instincts urged him to get out of the place and go in search of the captain. It must have been many minutes since he had last heard of him.

He stabbed at his communicator device. "Worf to captain."

Nothing. The silence chilled him without surprising him in the least. He tried again, an uncanny feeling of déja vu setting in.

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

Nothing.

"Computer, locate Captain Picard."

"Captain Picard is not on the ship," replied the computer.

Worf drew his breath in through his teeth with a sound like a soft snarl. "Worf to bridge. Sir, can you locate the captain?"

Silence.

He strode towards the turbolift, deactivating the forcefield with a fierce growl at the intercom. He half-expected the hiss and flash of a phaser beam from somewhere, but Main Engineering remained silent. The turbolift door opened. Worf was about to dash in with a last suspicious look back when he saw that the car wasn't empty. The four people inside started back, as surprised at first as he was. Three of his security, he realized, and Szegi of Engineering. Surprisingly, the Zaldan was the first to get his bearings.

"Well, Worf. Glad to see you're still here. Now if you just come with us we can get this over with."

"What?" said Worf, taken aback. He simply wasn't used to the tone – neither from a Zaldan nor from anyone else.

Szegi opened his mouth to reply when Ensign Macaulay intervened. "Commander La Forge's orders, sir. We've brought something for you – we're really just supposed to show you how it works. If – "

"You are in my way," interrupted Worf dangerously. "Leave the turbolift or I will remove you."

"Hey," said Szegi. "I don't need this. We have orders for you. We'll see to it – "

At that Worf grabbed Szegi's uniform tunic with one hand, pulled him out into the open, and lashed out with the other, pivoting at the same time. Szegi was lifted clean off his feet; arms pinwheeling, he crashed into the central control table, tumbled over one corner of it, and disappeared from sight. As Worf turned back, Macaulay's boot slammed into his upper arm. She had been one of his best pupils in the various martial arts courses he had taught. He staggered against the doorframe, just noticing, from the corner of his eye, the red stain exploding on his sleeve where the kick had burst the bat'telh wound open again. He barely felt the pain. I must find the captain, he thought, desperately, and a moment later the three of them were on top of him.

- - - - - - -