Part 9 (2/2)
Riker stared blankly at Wesley. Talk him out of it? He could order him if he wanted to. Just because Wesley wasn't an actual, bona fide member of the crew didn't mean that he was not bound by the orders of the command personnel, particularly the second-in-command. And if Wesley gave him trouble, he could have him confined to quarters. Except that was what young Mr. Crusher wanted. He could remove all the computers and equipment from Wesley's room. He could even toss him in the brig. But none of that would solve the problem.
And the boy was hurting. His mother had just left, and although Wes remained in good hands, it had to have some impact. And now a close friend was dying.
Still ...
”Wes,” he said carefully, ”as I said before ... your specialty isn't medicine. It's in engineering.”
”You don't grow up the son of a doctor without picking up a lot,” said Wes. ”And what I don't know, I'll learn.”
”You can't duplicate the years of education of the scientists who are already researching this disease.”
”I,” said Wes tautly, ”think I can. I've saved this s.h.i.+p. Saved it a couple of times. That didn't come from luck. That wasn't happenstance. What I don't know, I can learn.”
”About engineering, maybe. But not-”
”About anything.” He tapped his forehead. ”Photographic memory.”
”What?”
”Photographic memory. I see it, I remember it.”
”Wes,” Riker was starting to become exasperated. ”A photographic memory won't do you a d.a.m.n bit of good if you don't fully understand and comprehend everything you see. And you just don't have the background to do that.”
”I can do it. And if you try to stop me, you'll be condemning Jaan to death, plus who knows how many other people. All because you didn't believe me.”
Riker sighed. ”All right, Wesley. You're not going to believe me on this until you learn it yourself. You win.”
And with that he left Wesley alone in his room.
”Of course I win,” murmured Wesley. ”I always win. I'm the Brain Trust.”
Riker stopped in briefly with Dr. Katherine Pulaski to confirm that the medical materials and text references had all come from her.
”I saw no harm in it,” she said.
”The boy thinks he can cure the Rot.”
”The young man thinks he can cure the Rot,” corrected Pulaski. ”Who knows, Will? He may be right. If five-year-old Mozart had come to you and asked you to buy him a piano because he felt like composing a symphony, what would you have said?”
”I would have said 'Ask your father.' ”
”Spoken like a true second-in-command.”
Her remark was made without heat, but nevertheless his lips thinned in mild annoyance. He liked Katherine, always had, always would. But one of his great secret desires was to once, just once, win an argument with her. Somehow that goal still seemed far off.
She patted him on his bearded cheek. ”Don't be so glum, Will. If he succeeds, you look like the brilliant, foresighted commander who supported him. If he fails, you get to say 'I told you so.' ”
”I don't want to say 'I told you so.' I just want him to be happy.”
”Fine.” She paused. ”Then pray that he helps his friend.”
”Speaking of his friend”- and Riker glanced around the sickbay-”I don't see him here.”
”Jaan? I discharged him. Oh, I'm keeping regular tabs on him. But why should I keep him cooped up in here?” She shrugged. ”He's not contagious. And it would certainly defeat the purpose of keeping him on board if he were a prisoner in sickbay. With regular medication, rest, and periodic monitoring, he should be fine.”
”As fine as someone can be who's dying.”
”There is that.”
Having finished his impromptu meeting with Katherine, Riker now went to engineering. It did not take him long to locate Geordi. He was in the section that was crammed with techies, crawling all over the device they'd (stolen was such an ugly word) appropriated from the Kreel. Riker stood in the doorway a moment and watched them work.
They looked like ants swarming over a particularly enticing bit of leftover food.
Geordi was standing there, in the midst of all the activity, running a scanner over it and shaking his head slowly. Riker called to him. At first, Geordi didn't even respond. Then one of the tech crew nudged him, and Geordi trotted over to where Riker stood, waiting patiently.
He liked Geordi. He really did, and even now he had to fight off the occasional temptation to feel sorry for the chief engineer's sightlessness, particularly since Geordi would have been the first to scoff at any such feelings. Riker had discovered not long ago that the VISOR Geordi wore actually was a somewhat-painful prosthetic, because of the constant strain of his mind to cope with the visual input that most humans never even begin to imagine. The ability to carry on stoically, uncomplaining ... he admired that in Geordi. In anyone.
”What's the story here, Mr. La Forge?” he asked with the formalness he always used upon requiring a report.
And Geordi, who was never impressed by formality, said, ”You're not going to like it.”
”I'll have to try. What have you found out about this weapon?”
”Nothing.”
”Nothing?” Riker was incredulous. ”Geordi, your people have been crawling over this thing for ages. Do you need help? Don't tell me,” he said with mock horror, ”that you can't do it without Wesley?”
Geordi smiled raggedly. ”No, not even”- and then he imitated the distinctive tone of Captain Picard-”the formidable Mr. Crusher ... ”
”Who is otherwise occupied,” said Riker.
” ... would be of much help,” finished Geordi. ”It's defying all our spectral a.n.a.lyses. We've tried scanning it with everything we can think of to get a reading on what const.i.tutes this baby's circuitry. We've tried tricorders, optiscan, we've brought it down to sickbay-”
”Up to sickbay.”
”Up to sickbay,” Geordi amended, ”and tossed it on the diagnostic table. We even, as G.o.d is my witness, tried X-rays. How's that for outmoded? And even that didn't work. Any sort of beam or ray or light that is projected toward it, that endeavors to penetrate its guts, the thing just bounces back.”
”Can you see it?”
Geordi paused. ”That's a good question, isn't it? I mean, it sounded weird at first, but that's reasonable. I just took it for granted, my being able to see it. Yeah, I can see it. But all I'm picking up is the exterior. Now it's obviously not repelling all light. If it were ... ”
”It'd be invisible,” said Riker.
”Right. Like a cloaking device. So it's one of two things. Either the outside is made of some metal that we've never heard of before ... and this thing has alien properties, I'll tell you that right now. It's an alloy with trace substances I can't even begin to get a handle on.”
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