Foreign Foes Part 8

She hung tightly on to Geordis hand, her thumb lightly brus.h.i.+ng back and forth against his clammy skin.

Too clammy.

The lift released them, but the door to sickbay was still an endless corridor away. They hurried, Beverlys long red hair an annoyance in her eyes as they ran.

People ... walking ... in the way ...

Move it!

Doctors orders .

They exploded into sickbay, Doctor Crusher barking commands. The room became a beehive, with Geordi its center and goal.

Lifesign indicators at minimum, Doctor.

Get him into the bio-bedactivate a sterile field.

I want that cart over here. And move MacCaffy out of the way!

Where?

Post-op.

Set up cranial scan!

Beverly ushered the medical team over to the diagnostic bed in the middle of the room. She had to pull her hand free of Geordisnot from any grasp of his weak fingers, but from her own.

Set up the O.R., she ordered the young medic whod closed Geordi into the diagnostic table.

I want a complete neurosurgical team standing by. Dr. Peiss to a.s.sist.

Raenna is already on her way.

Good.

Beverly paused a moment, looked down at the stretcher that held only Geordis VISOR now. The eyes without their master. Or was the VISOR the master here? Was it the reason he was now in sickbay?

She turned away from it, looked back to Geordi, and frowned at the sight of his unconscious body. So lifeless ... with that bright, humming diagnostic equipment enveloping him. It flashed, pulsed, clicked ... as if it were alive for him.

Fumbling with the bio-bed control pad, Beverly cursed her fingers for not working right, not knowing the places on the console that would be second nature if ...

She ordered another doctor over, and pushed herself toward the wall comm.

Sickbay to Bridge.

Yes, Doctor, Data replied after a moment.

Were running tests on Geordi, she said quickly, turning to the screen next to her, taking in the initial data from the more comprehensive scans of Sickbays sensor bio-bed.

How is he?

Data asked.

Beverly shook her head.

Not well.

She poked something into a control panel on the wall, shook her head, cleared the screen, and tapped it in again.

Hes sedated, but still in a great deal of pain.

Cause?

I dont know yet, she said, and cursed the fact.

I cant seem to relieve the pain. Maybe a viral infection.

She pressed her lips together and frowned, dissatisfied with her own non-answers.

I dont know, she repeated quietly.

The area around his neural implants is inflamed.

Diagnostics are running on the transporter systems to discover sabotage, if any. Have you found such evidence?

Beverlys brows wrinkled in confusion.

Sabotage? No.

She shrugged, wondering who would do such a thingand why.

Im going to have Bioengineering look at the VISOR, though.

Understood, Doctor, Data said.

Contact me when you know more.

The channel beeped closed and she pulled in a breath, her brow wrinkling.

Your concern is underwhelming, she muttered, and looked back to Geordi.For G.o.dssake, Data, what could possibly be more important than your best friend?

Computer.

Ready.

Request access to primary and secondary communication frequency controls.

Access denied. Command security code required.

Override command security code, personal authority.

Confirm authority.

Lieutenant Commander Data, currently in acting command ofU.S.S. Enterprise . Reference s.h.i.+ps log stardate 47511.3 Pro tem command only. Access denied.

He tapped quickly into the control panel.

Access denied.

He paused a moment, thought, then typed again, longer this time.

Restriction released.

Re-restrict primary controls, my personal code.

Complete.

Encode all secondary frequencies with encryption procedure in file Commander Data two-zero-three point five-nine-three.

Encryption complete.

Computer, link all frequencies through my console.

Complete.

Function switch, main database.

Database ready.

Search all sub-bases, Klingon military tactics. Topic: covert operations. Subtopic: espionage. Cross-reference: Hidran-Klingon conflict of twenty-two ninety-two.

Searching ... Complete. Four hundred thirty-six files found.

List topics.

Data glanced over them rapidly, then pecked a few orders into the console.

New cross-reference: current Klingon tactics based on military reports.

Complete. Seventy-seven entries found under Tactical subtopic, one-hundred fifty-one entries found under Federation/Klingon Liaison subtopic.

List entries, maximum speed.

Stop squirming!

Deanna snapped.

Riker pulled away, more from her tone than from the pain in his leg.

She pulled the bandage back around his calf and twisted. His hand lurched off the control panel and the small shuttle rocked. Deanna found herself jammed between Rikers leg and the small alcove under the console.

Flying manually by choice was exhilarating for Rikerhavingto do it was just nerve-stretching, and his injured leg wasnt helping.

She pulled herself back up, grabbing the ends of the makes.h.i.+ft bandage again.

Watch it!

He reached down, flexing his toes and feeling the caked blood that had stuck his uniform to his calf. He wanted to rub at the wound but couldnt bring himself to reach any farther than his knee.

Deanna slapped his hand away and theflitter shook again.

Just let me do this, and you fly the s.h.i.+p, she said.

Why not try to get the autopilot working?

Cant be fixed for the same reason we cant reach the captain.Enterprise s white-noise blanket must be having some effect on it.

He stabbed at the autopilot control, then felt the s.h.i.+p shudder and lose alt.i.tude. He quickly turned it off.

Well just have to continue manually.

She twisted at his bandage again and he grimaced.

Thats a little too tight, Deanna, he said, squinting at the console in pain.

His only answer was a bandage that pinched even closer around his leg.

Youre cutting off my circulation!

Youre circulating all over the deck. Im trying to stop the bleeding.

Theyd been sniping at each other since takeoff and he was ready to let himself circulate to death if it would quiet her up. Shed wanted to turn back when the s.h.i.+p had lurched and hed crammed his s.h.i.+n into the jagged edge of the console panel. He had decided theyd go on.

Riker didnt believe that their minor disagreement was what edged Deannas emotions, though. Maybe she hadnt released the tension shed absorbed from the delegation... . He didnt know, and he might have cared more,if she hadnt been taking her anger out on the gash in his leg.

What kind of transport doesnt carry a med-kit?Riker glanced back around the small shuttle the colonists used for short-distance surveys. It was old and small, with barely enough room for the two of them and their tricorder. A thick layer of gray dust covered every surface. Riker had wiped down the controls before powering up, but that had only removed a decade of grime.

Dustand the sight of his own blood. Things he usually enjoyed living without.

He sneezed, and his leg pulsed with pain. The small s.h.i.+p jostled again and be and Deanna grunted as she b.u.mped against his leg.

The pain and the frustration weighed upon him, with her anxiety a mound on top of his own. He struggled to keep his glare on the small crafts controls and off her as she worked on cleaning and dressing his mangled s.h.i.+n and calf. Well, maybe not mangled, but itfelt that way.

We should turn back.

she said.

No, he growled, burying his thoughts in the console, pounding at the controls. Too minor a reasonhe wouldnt turn back just because he was in a little pain.