SHIP OF FOOLS

Chapter 18

The first thing the captain saw when he opened his eyes was the face of Lieutenant Worf who was looking down on him with a worried frown. The memory came back in a single flash, and with it the realization that he must get out of it at any cost while he could – if he still could. With a quick, reflexive movement he brought up his arm, shielding his head and at the same time driving his elbow into Worf's face with all the strength he could muster. The Klingon staggered sideways with a gasp of surprise, and the captain followed up with a jerk of his knee that was aimed at Worf's stomach but ended up in his side, trying to get to his feet while Worf regained his balance.

It didn't work, of course. Whether it was the fact that he was half-dazed still or whether there never had been a shadow of a chance for the captain taking on his own Chief of Security, Worf caught himself with hardly an effort and was up again, blood pouring from his nose, before Picard had regained his bearings. A moment later the captain found his feet neatly knocked from under him, and then he was flat on his back without ever having felt himself falling – and even while he was struggling to break free he felt, uncomprehendingly, that Worf was being curiously gentle about it. He lashed out in something like desperation, and Worf blocked that blow easily too; the next moment he had gripped Picard's wrists and was forcing them down.

"Keep still, Captain. I would not hurt you" – and then he added, very deliberately: "You are safe with me, sir."

He was still perforce, dizzy and gasping for breath, staring up into Worf's battered face; it was seconds before he could grasp what he had just heard. As the words were sinking in his eyes went to the Klingon's right temple where the device would have been, half-concealed in hair as Worf's usually neat pigtail was a dishevelled mess by now. It needn't mean anything, but the device was not there. And Worf, feeling that he was calmer, cautiously released him. Picard struggled up on one elbow, taking note of his surroundings for the first time. He was back where he had come round, on the sofa in his ready room.

"What happened, Worf?"

"I stunned you, sir, when I saw what they were trying to do. It seemed the only way. Then I brought you back here."

The captain frowned, suddenly noticing Worf's utterly ruined uniform. "I don't quite understand. Good Lord, Worf – "

"It is nothing, sir," rumbled the Klingon. "Data told me that he had found a way of neutralizing the device. A phaser set to maximum stun knocks out all higher brain functions, leaving it with nothing to lock on to. But it must happen quickly – before it has adapted. I could not be certain what it had done to you. I had to get you away from it." He frowned. "Captain, are you sure you are... unharmed?"

"As regards that device, yes, Mr. Worf, I believe I am."

Worf nodded, then stepped back to allow the captain to sit up and then, cautiously, get to his feet. As he gave his uniform an instinctive tug Picard noticed the scarred patch on his chest, and then the smears of dried blood on his side. He gave his security chief a startled look. "Worf, whatever happened down there? What about Geordi and the rest of them?"

"I have notified sickbay, sir. Medical attention may be needed." There was an unmistakable glitter of satisfaction in Worf's eyes.

"You had better report there yourself," Picard suggested. "Somebody should see to your arm. And by the way, it seems I broke your nose."

"Data bandaged my arm. And you, sir, have bad phaser burns, a cut on your temple and a number of bruises. We did what we could with the bridge emergency kits."

Data's voice chimed in from the door. "It would appear that sickbay may not be available to us, sir. In fact we seem to be in a state of siege."

The captain frowned. "Explain."

"Computer dependability is still decreasing, sir. It is evident that my efforts are being counteracted, although I have been making some progress lately, probably due to Geordi's removal to sickbay. There has been an attempt to gain access to the bridge via the emergency turbolift which we have been able to discourage."

"We phasered the control panel," Worf put in at a glance from Picard.

"It would seem I have missed quite a lot," commented the captain.

"You were unconscious for almost three hours, sir. I had to use a high setting to make sure you were beyond the reach of that... thing."

"You will be experiencing some aftereffects," said Data. "Injuries like the ones you sustained will in due course lead to a state of shock, resulting in dizzyness, dehydration, a general – "

"Thank you, Data. Just what I needed to know. What about those probes?"

"They report no ships in the vicinity, sir."

"Geordi said something about Cardassians who would be arriving in a few hours."

"Yes, sir. But so far there is no evidence of that. Rational thinking appears to deteriorate once the device has taken hold."

"Well, I'd agree with that. What else have you found?"

"I have been trying to determine the workings of the device, so far with little success. Comparison with the one Lieutenant Worf took off you may help, but I will have to make sure of the computer first. Ship's security must be a priority too. Unfortunately, for reasons I cannot determine the shields the lieutenant tried to seal in place have gone down completely an hour ago. I am still hoping that I will be able to establish an interface between my positronic net and the main computer, but I must proceed with caution in order to make sure the damage does not spread to my own neural pathways. I would not wish to risk malfunction."

The captain frowned. "You need more time. Is that it?"

"Yes, sir," said Data, sounding surprised.

Picard nodded. "Very well. Carry on, Data." He gave himself a small mental shake once his second officer had left. Just how used have I grown to the idea that there's nothing he can't fix within the minute? He's an android, not a miracle-worker. Then he noticed Worf still standing by the door, looking considerably the worse for wear, blood drying on his upper lip and chin and adding to the stains on his uniform. With a twinge of conscience he said: "I'm sorry for the damage I inflicted on you, Lieutenant."

Worf's shoulders snapped back. "Do not mention it, Captain." Had that been a gleam of pride? Slightly bemused, Picard circled his desk and sat down behind it. The wound in his chest didn't hurt – they must have given him a fair amount of painkillers – but there was a kind of numbness radiating from it, and even now he was feeling dazed. "What's the situation, Worf?"

"We believe there are growing... differences... between the parties on the ship. An hour ago someone tried unsuccessfully to launch a shuttlecraft. Sickbay appears to be very busy. I have erected forcefields to protect the bridge." He paused for a second. "The group trying to force their way in was quite large."

"I see," said Picard. There wasn't much else to say it seemed. The ship was coming to pieces. "Thank you, Worf. Carry on."

"Are you all right, Captain?"

"I'm fine. I'll join you in a moment."

Worf nodded and left, and Picard pulled himself to his feet and went over to the replicator. "Tea. Earl Grey, hot."

There was the familiar chitter, and a mug materialized. He took it, raised it to his lips, and put it down again with a sudden unaccountable feeling of slight nausea. It was water – hot water. Oh, no, he heard himself thinking. He addressed the replicator again. "Water. Cold. A large jug."

The unit chittered and complied. The captain removed the gleaming glass jug and said: "Another."

This time the shimmering was fainter, and it took longer to subside, and when it finally did, there was nothing there. Picard put the jug down on his desk and went out onto the bridge. Data was busy at one of the science stations. Worf was checking, or pretending to check, something on his console which he abandoned the moment the doors swished open.

"I believe the replicators are going," the captain said without preamble.

Worf turned to exchange a look with Data, then he strode down the ramp to the bridge unit. "Water," he growled.

Nothing, not even a chitter.

"That is very unfortunate," Data remarked after a moment of telling silence.

- - - - - -

Standing by one of the beds in sickbay, Deanna Troi asked incredulously: "You did what? Geordi, you can't mean – you can't have tried to force it on him?"

"Oh, come off it, Counselor," retorted Geordi with a wince of pain. "Yes, thanks, Doctor, I'm quite all right. Just... ow!"

"What happened?"

"Worf knocked me out – almost broke my jaw."

"And stunned him, for good measure," Beverly put in. "Nothing if not thorough. The pain in your abdomen, however, was caused by someone else entirely."

"How do you know?"

"Simple. If Worf had planted his boot in your underbelly you'd be on the surgical table now. Consider yourself lucky."

"Thanks, Doctor. That's just what I needed now."

"We aim to please," said Beverly, flashing him a charming smile. He saw more malice than sympathy there and said sharply: "Look, if you don't like what I was going to do, just say so and have done with it, okay? I can't ask everybody around if they share my opinions."

"Well, now you know for sure that they don't," commented Beverly, selecting a hypospray. "Frankly, I think you were asking for it. And frankly, I'm getting tired of sorting out the mess you people are making of everything. My staff are worked off their feet for no good reason. This wasn't what I had in mind when I said I'd like this department to help people who really need help for a change."

"You're regretting it, Doc, is that what you're saying? Because if you think you'd have better luck with the captain, let me remind you –"

"Let's just say," interrupted Beverly, a distinct edge to her voice, "it's come to my mind a few times lately that Jean-Luc may have his chips on his shoulder, but at least he usually does his thinking before he acts. And he doesn't ask me to pick up the pieces from some brawl every five minutes either."

"And you wouldn't have to waste your precious time on me and my people if we weren't stuck in this cloud because our fine captain has disabled the ship!" shouted Geordi.

"Please," Deanna said, desperately. "Oh, please – "

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