Part 8 (2/2)
”You can compensate for a lot of it,” said Jaan. ”You said so yourself. Look, Doctor ... I came on this s.h.i.+p to do my research work. To be able to study alien cultures firsthand. I've already gotten several articles written and published back home and when I've put together enough they'll be collected into one volume.”
”I don't see how that-”
”Please, Doctor,” he said, and if he was trying to use the Knack, she sure couldn't tell. This was genuine, heart-felt pleading. ”When you write, you leave a bit of yourself behind. When you write enough, when you write something that really has impact, you can affect people and what they think long after you're gone. It's the closest thing to living forever that we've got. Please ... please don't deny me the immortality that my body is never going to give me. Please ... ”
His lips trembled and he put his hands to his face, as if he could physically shove the tears back into his eyes.
And if he was using the Knack, then dammit, she didn't care.
”All right,” she said softly. ”I'll have to tell the captain of your condition, of course ... but I'll recommend that you be allowed to remain with the s.h.i.+p for as long as possible.”
”Out of the question.”
In the privacy of the captain's ready room, Picard stood with arms folded and entire body posture indicating that he wasn't going to hear a word of it.
”It's important,” said Pulaski. She made a conscious effort to duplicate the way Picard was standing, to send a subtle message that she wasn't backing down on this.
”So is the efficient running of a stars.h.i.+p. And a stars.h.i.+p is not the place for a dying crew member.”
”We're all of us dying, Captain, from the moment we're born.”
”That's a lot of nonsense, Doctor, as far as this situation is concerned, and you know it.”
She sighed. ”Yes, I know. Wesley didn't buy that line of reasoning, so I shouldn't have expected you to.”
”Wesley? What does-?”
She didn't give him the opportunity to change subjects. ”However, it is my medical recommendation that Jaan be allowed to remain aboard, at least until the disease reaches its later stages and he becomes unable to function. As long as he's capable of making a contribution, why shouldn't he be allowed to, Captain? Who's he going to hurt?”
”That's not the point. A stars.h.i.+p is no place for a-”
”Dying crewman, yes I know. But he's not a crew member, he's a civilian, and don't make that face, Captain. 'Civilian' isn't a dirty word.”
”What face?”
”That twitch. That little irritating twitch around your eye every time civilians are mentioned.”
Picard looked as if an iron rod had been jammed down his spine. Every word a bullet, he said, ”I have no nervous twitch.”
”You do.”
”That's absurd.”
Pulaski paused a moment. Then with slow, measured steps she walked right up to the captain, and stood toe-to-toe with him.
”Civilian,” she said.
Picard twitched.
”A-HA!”
” 'A-ha' nothing.”
”You twitched. I saw it.”
”Doctor, your charming efforts to divert my attention are going to do you no good whatsoever.” He circled around to his desk and sat down behind it, as if the physical obstruction between himself and Dr. Pulaski gave him a measure of security. ”Your patient will be returned to his home.”
”My patient has a name. It's Jaan. Jaan Baat-Utuul-Bayn-Devin. It's not as impressive as a rank, of course, but he's ent.i.tled to be referred to by a name, as is any civilian.”
Picard tried to fight off the twitch and failed, to his annoyance and Pulaski's apparent satisfaction. ”It is my decision,” he said, ”that Jaan be sent back to his people. My authority on this s.h.i.+p is final.”
”Not when it comes to medical decisions,” she said.
”This is not a medical decision, this is a personnel decision, and it's been made.”
”Fine. Make your decision.” She dropped down into the chair opposite him.
”It's made.”
”Good. I officially file my appeal to your decision.”
”Appeal denied.”
”All right. Now that you've denied it, I'll appeal to the level above you, and the level above that, and as high as I have to go.” She smiled at him with that d.a.m.nable beautiful smile that was almost as attractive as her eyes (and why did she have to be so blasted attractive), and said, ”As you know, Starfleet does allow for an extensive appeals process when the medical head comes into conflict with the s.h.i.+p's captain. To protect the ultimate authority of both positions.”
”Yes, I know that.”
”And you also know the appeals process takes somewhere around six months. During which time your decision will not be in force regarding Jaan. So while we slug it out in appeals, he'll be allowed to be a useful member of this stargoing society.”
Picard felt a fury building in him and slammed it down, but couldn't keep all of the anger from his voice as he said, ”I do not appreciate this challenge to my authority from someone relatively new to this s.h.i.+p!”
”So I'm new!” shot back Pulaski. ”I didn't know one had to be a veteran like yourself to care about people! Well I'll tell you what, Captain. Maybe you'll be lucky! You see, I think Jaan has as little as six months to live ... about as long as the appeals process. But maybe fortune will favor you, and Jaan will drop dead before that!”
The moment the words were out of her mouth, she wished she could have called them back. It was as if she'd struck him a blow across the face. For a moment, he actually looked stunned.
She looked down, ashamed of herself. ”I'm sorry,” she said with real sincerity. ”That was a hideous thing to say.”
The silence hung heavily in the ready room, and when Picard spoke it was without the authoritarian stiffness and clipped tone she'd come to expect.
”Do as you see fit, Katherine,” he said softly.
She looked up at him now, and there was no anger in his eyes. Only sadness. ”All I ask is that you keep me apprised of his condition.”
”Of course.” She paused. ”Thank you.”
She turned to go and stopped at the door as Picard added, ”And Katherine ... ”
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