SHIP OF FOOLS

Chapter 26

Picard woke in the near-darkness of his quarters, slowly, opening his eyes and trying to get his bearings. There were stars streaking past overhead. He was feeling foggy and a little disoriented, and when he pushed himself up on one elbow he realized that he must have been sleeping for hours while his ship was pulling itself together. He remembered, vaguely, getting into bed; he had no idea of the time that had passed since then. He only knew that he was feeling tired in a way he hadn't felt earlier, too tired almost to respond to the page.

"Yes. Picard here."

"Sir," said Riker's voice, "I'm truly sorry to disturb you, but I have Doctor Maruk on subspace. He's been talking to Troi, and she put him through to me, but I really think you're the one to handle this."

"Doctor Maruk?" Doctor Maruk. The device. "One moment. You're quite right, Will, I'll take it." He was slipping out of bed and draping a bathrobe about himself as he spoke, using the seconds to pull himself together. There was a jug of water on a table beneath the window, and a half-empty glass; he took a quick swallow on his way to the door. The lights in the living room came on obediently as he went over to his desk, swiveling the small monitor towards himself. "Patch him through."

The face that appeared on the screen was less sharp-angled than a Vulcan's, and much less inscrutable. It was a handsome face in its way, its descent still unmistakable – but there was a slightly worried look on that face. The expression was not what the captain had been expecting to see. But then he did not really know what he had been expecting.

"Captain Picard – " Was there a hint of defensiveness in the voice?

"Yes, Doctor. How can I help you?"

"Just... Captain, I am getting the impression that I may unwittingly have caused some misunderstanding. I originally wanted to talk to Counselor Troi, but somehow she... well, she decided to put me through to your first officer. She appeared quite upset. Your first officer refused to elaborate. Now I fear something has gone wrong. To be honest, I am a little worried. Could you enlighten me?"

"In fact, Doctor," said Picard, carefully, "I would like you to enlighten me first. I take it you are referring to the device you gave to Counselor Troi. May I ask your reasons for leaving it with her in the first place?"

"It was a gift among colleagues, Captain. We had been comparing notes about our work, and I was quite certain that in the environment of a starship it could prove invaluable. In fact it was developed with a view to just such an environment. Not a starship necessarily, but certainly a self-selected group with a common purpose such as a starship 's crew. I had considered giving it a first large-scale try at the Fragan VI summit, but on encountering the people your Enterprise was transporting I decided that the mix might be a little too diverse. As it has since proved, I must admit." Maruk frowned slightly, recollecting. Picard said nothing, not quite sure of what he had just heard. After a moment the scientist continued: "From Counselor Troi's reactions – and, in fact, from those of Commander Riker – I must assume that something untoward has happened. I have been trying to contact her for some time now, but your ship has been out of range of subspace radio. You'll understand that I am somewhat concerned."

"Concerned about what, Doctor? About what might have happened aboard my ship once you had planted that thing among my crew, and left?"

"Captain, I am sorry, but I didn't plant anything. I gave it to Counselor Troi with a full description of its purpose and workings. Please try to see my point – it represents years of research. It would be a horrible setback if the responses I observed on Fragan VI were to prove the rule. Could you just let me know if Counselor Troi passed it on as she said she would, and how your crew reacted to it?"

"I certainly can," replied Picard, and his voice must have slipped somewhat because he could see Maruk drawing back a little. "I take it the Enterprise promised to be a more suitable Petri dish. Well, as it happens my ship proved the perfect microcosm to test your theories, Doctor. My crew took to your device as readily as you could have wished. They went from euphoria to utter indifference towards their duty to random violence. I have seen the finest crew I ever knew disintegrate into anarchic chaos within a few days. I have lost three of my people to your little experiment, and I hold you personally responsible for their deaths. So you see, Doctor, I really cannot spare much concern for the setback your work may have suffered. To tell you the truth, I couldn't care less." The captain paused for breath. There was a stinging behind his eyelids now. Tears of rage, of desperate regret, of sheer helplessness, who could tell. Myers. Benedetto. Storgat. So utterly, utterly pointless. Maruk was looking stunned, as if he literally didn't trust his ears – as if nothing in the universe could have prepared him for this. Then, slowly, indignation took over.

"Captain, this is... I am truly sorry for this tragic incident, but you must realize that nothing could have been further from my intentions. Counselor Troi may have mentioned my field of study to you. Please believe me, I sympathize with you. But really, blaming me for what was in effect a combination of unfortunate events – "

"I don't give a damn about your intentions!" Picard heard his own voice rise in volume, and broke off abruptly to get a grip on himself. After a couple of deep breaths, he continued more calmly. "Doctor, none of this will bring my people back to life. And I am very much afraid that none of this will teach you a sense of responsibility. Unfortunately it is beyond my powers to put a curb on your activities. The only thing I can do is to make sure the Vulcan Science Academy receives a report, and you may take my word for it that I will. Beyond that I really have nothing to discuss with you. Picard out."

He actually sat for a minute with his face in his hands after the screen had gone black – getting his heart rate down to normal, trying to put things into perspective. He meant no harm. It didn't work. The horror and fury were too real, and went too deep. All of it – all of it – for that. In the end he got to his feet rather abruptly, showered and shaved and dressed, remembered to get a croissant and some coffee from the replicator and left his quarters. There could be no question of rest now. He wanted to see how his crew was doing. And there were a few things left for him to see to.

- - - - - - - - -

Sickbay was looking much more normal by now. People were moving about with an air of calm efficiency. A quick look into the primary ward revealed three vacant biobeds, and a crewman perched on the fourth, chatting animatedly with two nurses. And Beverly Crusher was sitting in her office, tapping a rhythm on her desk with a stylus while she was frowning over her monitor. It took her a few seconds to become aware of his presence, but when she finally did her smile was radiant.

"Now who would have thought it. You're not coming for that medical check-up by any chance?"

"No indeed," said Picard. "We can do that later. How is my crew, Doctor?"

Crusher rested her chin on her joined hands, stylus dangling between two fingers. "It's a gift," she said with an air of mild incredulity, to no one in particular. "Now I know we're back to normal. Your crew is – " She broke off rather abruptly. He saw an odd expression flitting over her face. Then she put the stylus down. "Captain, there is something... something you'll be glad to hear. It's Storgat." She was smiling now. „He'll be all right I think. I shouldn't have thought it possible, not after we lost the stasis chambers... must be something about the Bolian constitution. We're having another nervous breakdown now, of course – Céline just collapsed when Doctor Hill told her. I can't tell for certain yet, but I really believe Storgat will make a full recovery. I'll keep you informed."

"Good," said Picard after a moment, feeling his own face lighting up in turn. "That's... that's a comfort. Just now – " He drew a deep breath. „I am glad," he managed finally.

"Deanna is back on duty at her own request. I've told her to take it easy for a day or two. I'm treating her for fatigue, Geordi for headaches, dizziness and similar complaints, Will for a slight concussion, and Worf for a lot of minor injuries when I can get hold of him. I would have liked to take Geordi off duty, but he wouldn't hear of it, if you can imagine that. Most people are physically fine now, but I'm sure Deanna will have her hands full very soon. There is a general feeling of exhaustion. By the way, how are you, Jean-Luc?"

"I'm all right. It's about time I caught up on all the work."

"You'll take it easy too, Captain. And I have more than half a mind to insist on that physical right here and now."

"You won't," he said, and although he said it with a smile she bit her lip and refrained from comment. "I really just wanted to have alook in, see how things are going."

"Well, there's something else," she said, and he knew immediately that the next piece of news would not be good news. Beverly Crusher drew an audible breath. "I'm sorry, but I'd rather tell you now – before everything is looking so normal again that I'm beginning to wonder if I should tell you at all." Another pause. "Remember when you asked me whether or not Myers had been wearing the device when he was taken to sickbay? And I told you he hadn't? Yes, he'd been acting irresponsibly, and yes, he had pushed up his big-game hunting program to maximum difficulty, but no, he wasn't wearing the device when I saw him after the accident?" She paused again, her face set.

"Yes?" prompted the captain, feeling a knot of apprehension forming in the pit of his stomach.

She took one look at him – and smiled, very briefly, without joy. "It's not quite as bad as that, Jean-Luc. I didn't lie to you, exactly. Only... One of my med techs had found the device on the holodeck floor when he went back to look for clues."

"I see."

"I don't think I would have lied. I sincerely hope I wouldn't have. But you never asked that question, of course."

"I see," Picard said again.

"I am sorry. I'm sorry for the way I acted – more than I could possibly say. I thought it was for the best – or at least, that's what I told myself. I'm not too sure about it now. And you don't even know the whole of it. I'll – "

The captain winced. "Please. Beverly, I don't really want to know. I'll have to go over the reports at some stage, you know." He managed a shrug. „Let's just get on with things for the moment, shall we?"

"I feel awful," she said candidly.

"Yes, but..." He drew a breath; this time, his smile came more easily. "You still kept this place together. You acted in the best interests of the crew as you perceived them. I've just been treated to something quite different – God knows I have reason to be grateful." A tiny pause. "We managed, Beverly."

"Yes." For a few seconds she looked as if she would have liked to add something more; then she shook her head. "Be off to your bridge, Captain. I'll have a look at you later."

He nodded and left, feeling her eyes following him.

Riker was in the center chair, talking animatedly with Troi. They both got to their feet when Picard made his way down the ramp. Worf, towering over the central well, squared his shoulders and inclined his head in a very Klingon salute on meeting the captain's eyes. Picard looked from one face to the next, frowning slightly.

"Anything unusual, Number One?"

"Depends, sir." Riker's grin was both amused and decidedly wry. "Still on course. All systems normal. No trouble with the Cardassians. If you'd like to call any of this unusual..." Picard shook his head and made for his chair. But he hadn't reached it when Troi said: "Could I speak with you in private for a minute, Captain?"

Not another apology, Picard found himself thinking. "Counselor, if this can – "

"I'd really appreciate it, sir."

"Very well," said the captain, leading the way to his ready room.

The first thing he noticed was the stack of padds on his desk. The second was an empty tea mug on the stand that held his model of the Stargazer. There was a neatly folded blanket on the sofa, and the desk monitor had been swiveled towards one of the chairs in front of the desk – as if somebody had been taking a call from there. By his standards, the room was shockingly untidy. Picard took the mug in passing and deposited it in the replicator before he slid into his chair. "Yes, what is it?"

Troi took a chair opposite. She was looking a little pale he realized now – a little hollow-eyed, although her hair and make-up were flawless as usual. And she evidently didn't know how to begin – which in itself was most unusual.

"Beverly tells me you asked to be returned to duty," he said carefully after a few moments. "Do you think that is wise, Deanna?"

She looked up at that, an amused twinkle in her eye. "That, from you, Captain, is... let's just say that I shouldn't even dignify that with an answer. But in fact I do. There are people who are in worse shape than I am; I can't abandon them. At the very least I had to speak with Lieutenant Rickett."

He frowned. "Rickett?"

Troi shook her head. "You'll find it in the reports, Captain. Or if you like, I'll tell you. But that's not what I wanted to see you about. And isn't there something you would like to ask me?"

He nodded. "Very well then, Counselor. How is my crew?"

"Your crew, Captain, is recovering – at least, most of them are. I haven't had much time to speak to individuals yet, but there is a general feeling of... dismay, for lack of a better word, at the things that were said and done, and in some cases just thought, perhaps. For the moment I should say the shock runs quite deep. – I should point out," she added quietly, "that I am speaking in the capacity not only of the observer but of the observed as well here. To get back to the issue, that also means that for the moment very few people are likely to try those devices again – although I cannot rule out the possibility that some of them may do it once the memory begins to fade. And I think it likely that some members of your crew may seek a reassignment. Not just to distance themselves from it all but also because... well, because of the things that were said and done." For a moment her expression was almost bitter. "Pursuing what one believes to be one's heart's desire can result in fairly ugly behavior. And believe me, Captain, I would prefer not to have to say that."

He nodded again, curtly. "Point taken, Counselor. We'll speak again later. And now for the reason you did want to see me about."

She met his eyes at that, her nod matching his. "Doctor Maruk," she said flatly. "I suppose he told you what he had told me. I can't let it pass just like that."

"What he told me was that he gave that thing to you to pass on to others, with the idea that you would provide him with feedback regarding the results. Apparently he tried something similar at that conference on Fragan VI, and found that it didn't work out as expected."

"Yes. He was going to tell me about it. I told him that I really didn't have the time to listen to this – that I was busy picking up the pieces – and patched him through to Will instead." Troi was looking down on her hands. "Not a very professional response."

"It really was an accident, then." His voice was still toneless in his own ears. "Just that – an accident."

"Yes," Troi said softly. "An unfortunate combination of circumstances. It would never have come to all that if we hadn't been isolated in this nebula for days, waiting for Dravek. But then of course it wouldn't have come to it if I had been aware of the fact that Doctor Maruk was really still experimenting, or if he had been a little less irresponsible in his methods. I have a feeling you told him as much, Captain."

"I am afraid I was less sympathetic than he had been expecting. I'm – " He interrupted himself with a brief grimace. "As if you didn't know. I was furious. I'm still rather... upset. But whatever he may have thought and done wasn't your fault. And while I'm under the impression that you are rather unimpressed with his attitude as well" – Troi gave a soft snort – "I wouldn't ask you to sacrifice someone you obviously both liked and respected to my feelings."

"Yes, Captain. I did." She put a slight but telling emphasis on the verb. "But when he called me about an hour ago the only thing that interested him was the success or failure of his device. He was as enthusiastic as ever, just a little concerned and disappointed that it hadn't worked out for everybody. When I tried to make matters clear to him he said how sorry he was to have caused me trouble or grief. Me!" She drew a deep breath, drawing herself up a little at the same time. "Captain, I've never met anyone of Betazoid descent who was so utterly oblivious of the effect he was having. There was no getting through to him. When I passed him on to Will I just didn't know what to do with him. Captain, I'm not sacrificing him, or any feelings I may have for him. I am simply appalled. He was honest enough back then – enthusiastic and guileless. He was utterly convinced that his device would prove a success, and a blessing for all who used it – I would have noticed if he hadn't been. But I failed to notice the ruthlessness underneath, the selfish irresponsibility. I should have been more perceptive. As it is, I accepted his device, and his assurances, and everything else, and you know what happened. I have to take some of that responsibility."

"Maybe, Counselor. All of us. But... " Picard was silent for a few moments, trying to sort through the implications. "Look, I haven't had much time to think about it. But just because you see more, you can't blame yourself for not seeing everything. You sincerely believed there was no danger. There was no reason why you shouldn't have. He knew it was a shot in the dark. He simply used my ship as a Petri dish – and he certainly didn't offer to take the responsibility the way all of my officers did."

"But you didn't fall for it in the first place, sir," she said, quite softly.

He found himself looking down. "My experiences may have been influencing my judgment. It happens, Deanna."

"Captain." The reproach was gentle but unmistakable. He looked up to find a tiny smile quivering on her face. "I suppose I deserved that," she said.

"I have been lucky." We all have. "I'll call a briefing later. Let's just give ourselves a little time, shall we?"

"As ship's counselor, I'll want to see you about all of this, Captain."

"You will," he promised. "If that is all – "

"No. There's more." She straightened in her chair, the smile gone. "That evening you came to me, and we had that horrible discussion, and you left."

"Yes?" he said, wincing a little in apprehension.

"You went to your quarters, and afterwards... Captain, I felt what you were going through. I knew, and I never tried to help." There was pain in her face now. "I thought it was worth it. You'd come round, and understand, and everything would be justified. Nothing could have justified that. And please don't tell me it's all right. It'll be some time before I forgive myself for that. If you won't accept anything else, at least accept my personal apologies."

"If you insist." Picard found himself smiling a little – as if something in him had only just realized that it was well and truly over now. And like some nightmares, it was beginning to fade. "In fact, I have to thank you – all of you. You never really let go. I don't know – "

He was interrupted in midsentence by a voice from the intercom grid. "Bridge to Captain."

"Yes, Lieutenant," said Picard with a certain amount of relief.

"Sir," said Worf, the underlying growl implying both mistrust and disapproval, "Gul Dravek is asking your permission to speak with you in private."

- - - - - - - - - - - -