Star Trek: The Next Generation™: Slings and Arrows Book 4: That Sleep of Death

by Terri Osborne

  With an indignant bluster, the EMH disappeared into whatever abyss photonic beings disappeared into, leaving them blessedly in silence. When Beverly was sure he wasn’t coming back, she turned to her patient. “Deanna, I’d like you to come back here for observation tonight. I want to see if this repeats itself.”

  The Betazoid’s brow furrowed. “If what repeats itself? Beverly, what happened to me?”

  She swallowed hard before saying, “When Will brought you in here, you were completely nonresponsive. You were in a coma, Deanna. And then you woke up this morning as though nothing happened.”

  Deanna’s dark eyes widened. She fumbled toward the retraction button for the clamshell. When she kept missing it, Beverly reached forward and triggered it for her. No sooner did the thing retract than Deanna sat upright. “I was in a coma? Why?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. Now, what I need to know is how many times he touched your skin.”

  “Just the once in the transporter room. No, he took my hand when I tripped over a root in the arboretum. That’s all.”

  Tapping her combadge, she said, “Crusher to Captain Picard.”

  “Picard here, what can I do for you, Beverly?”

  “Jean-Luc, I need to examine Envoy Sellassars as soon as possible.”

  “You were supposed to see him this afternoon. May I ask why the urgency?”

  Beverly took a deep breath before saying, “I have a feeling there’s something going on here, Jean-Luc. I’d prefer not to discuss it over an open comm channel.”

  “I shall escort the envoy to see you myself. Picard out.”

  Standing, Beverly realized that Riker was going to sleep the day away at this rate. Grabbing a hypospray of inaporovaline as she walked over to his biobed, she applied it to Riker’s neck. Slowly, he began to regain consciousness.

  “What the…sickbay?”

  “Yes, Will,” Beverly said. “Deanna is fine. I need you to take her back to her quarters and keep an eye on her; can you do that?”

  Groggily, Will nodded. He managed to pull himself out of the bed, and over to where Deanna still sat on the central biobed. “What do you say,” he said. “Time for a day off?”

  Troi smiled. “I think we’re under orders.”

  “You’d better believe it,” Beverly said. “I’m putting both of you on reduced duty until we get to the summit. But don’t think this is going to get you out of rehearsals, Will.”

  Riker groaned. “I know. I know. I’d have to die for that.”

  As Beverly watched Will wrap an arm around Deanna’s waist and escort her to the sickbay door, she said, “Actually, Will, it would take more than that to get you out of rehearsals, and you know it.”

  The last thing Beverly heard as the doors closed behind them was the sound of Riker’s laughter.

  CHAPTER

  5

  Beverly spent every moment between the conversation with Jean-Luc and the arrival of the envoy in her office studying the readouts of Deanna’s tests. Her blood work was perfect. There was no sign of traumatic brain injury. No sign of skull fracture. Her metabolic readings were exactly where they should have been. Organ function was perfectly—frustratingly—normal.

  The sickbay door opened to allow Jean-Luc and the envoy entrance. There was something slightly different about the envoy; he seemed to be stronger than when he’d beamed aboard, even—she dared think—a bit more luminous. The hunch in his shoulders had abated somewhat. “Envoy, please. Have a seat right here. The doctor will be out—”

  “The doctor is here,” Beverly said, grabbing a medical tricorder as she walked over. “Please, Envoy, if you would lie down on this bed for a few moments, we can take some measure of your health.”

  Sellassars’s melodic voice sounded far more peaceful than Beverly would have been in his position. “But, Doctor, were we not supposed to meet this afternoon?”

  “Yes,” Beverly said, fighting to keep any accusation from her voice. “But circumstances seem to have dictated otherwise.”

  Picard reached forward, allowing the Kendarayan to use his arm for support as he got onto the biobed. No sooner had Sellassars’s hand left his arm than Beverly leaned over and whispered in Jean-Luc’s ear, “Has he touched your skin?”

  Picard quickly shook his head.

  Beverly let a sigh of relief drift through her lips. “Envoy,” she began, turning toward Sellassars, “how many encounters with other species has your kind had?”

  “Only the Dominion and those who serve them,” Sellassars replied.

  “The Vorta?” Picard asked.

  “Yes,” Sellassars said. “The Vorta, the Karemma, and many others—including the Jem’Hadar.”

  “You have information that will help us battle them?”

  While Jean-Luc had the envoy distracted, Beverly wheeled over a cart of testing equipment. Okay, Beverly, think. This is probably going to be the only chance at this you get. She grabbed a hypo, pressing it against what looked to be a vein on the inside of the envoy’s elbow. Surprisingly, it refused to extract any blood. She tried again, this time on the back of the envoy’s hand.

  And had no luck there, either.

  “Sellassars,” she said, “could I ask you a few questions?”

  “Having difficulty with your kilogram of flesh, Dr. Crusher?” the envoy said. With his left hand, he ran his palm over the very same spot that Beverly had tried the first time. She raised an eyebrow at the fact that the skin was suddenly no longer iridescent, looking alarmingly human. “Make your attempt now, Doctor, quickly. Before they return to their posts.”

  Beverly bit the question back, just long enough to get the hypospray to the Kendarayan’s skin. He was right. She was able to draw two vials of blood before the hypospray stopped working again. “Envoy, before what return to their posts?” she finally asked.

  “What you see here as one being,” he said, gesturing toward his own body, “is merely an illusion made by your own eyes.”

  “You are really two beings?” she asked. “One internal, and another external?”

  Sellassars smiled, and she found the iridescence extended all the way to the enamel of his blue-green teeth. “Yes, Doctor.”

  “Yet you are the dominant being?” she asked.

  “No,” he said. “What we have is what you would call a ‘mutualistic’ relationship. Both life forms benefit from the relationship.”

  Picard raised an eyebrow. “Sounds almost like the Trill.”

  “Not quite, Jean-Luc,” Beverly said. “I get the feeling the mutual benefit is far stronger with the Kendarayans than the Trill.”

  Sellassars’s head tilted to the right. “Who are these Trill?”

  “Well, Envoy,” Picard began, allowing Beverly to continue to work, “they are a species that looks like you or me…well, perhaps more like the doctor here and myself. Some Trill serve as hosts for a symbiotic organism that is far longer lived than the host. I understand that there is supposed to be a Trill representative at the summit. I’m sure there will be plenty of time to discuss the differences and similarities between your species.”

  Beverly pulled a small microscope slide from the equipment table. “May I please take a sample of these creatures, Sellassars? I would like to study them to expand our own knowledge about how your species works.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t allow that, Doctor,” he said.

  Beverly tried not to allow her disappointment to reach her expression. “Why not?”

  “It is my responsibility to protect the Barth, who share the universe with me,” he said. “They protect me from harm, and I do the same for them. That was why you couldn’t take a blood sample until I moved them, Doctor.”

  “May I attempt to take a scanner over them, then?” she asked. “Something has happened to Counselor Troi, and—”

  “And you suspect me,” Sellassars immediately replied. His normally glittering voice was dropping in tone, turning almost into the sound of rain dropping into a dee
p metallic cistern.

  “No, of course not,” Beverly said. “I am merely trying to investigate all of my options. I want to make certain that she didn’t have an allergic reaction to the Barth, which accompany you.”

  “The Barth mean no harm, Doctor. I can assure you of that. And I will not allow any of them to be removed from my body, as I’m certain you would not allow anyone to interfere with your own immune system.”

  That got Jean-Luc’s curiosity going. “The Barth act as your immune system?”

  Sellassars shook his head, and his hood slipped for a moment. Beverly got a glimpse of those same dark eyes, only this time the iridescent skin was crowned by hair that looked like liquid pearls flowing from his scalp. “You are amazing to look at,” she whispered.

  “We thank you, Doctor. It is not often that we are able to discuss our co-existence with outsiders. They do not understand.”

  Beverly felt her cheeks warm. “Well, I have some experience with symbiotic creatures. And you are like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

  “To answer your question, Captain, no. They do not act as our immune system. They protect us. They keep the smallest thing from entering our system unwanted. Imagine if the external layers of your skin were a sentient life-form.”

  Picard gave a soft laugh. “There are days when I think they are, Envoy. Trust me.”

  “Do you age?” Beverly asked. “Do the Barth stop the aging process for you?”

  “No,” Sellassars’s voice twinkled. “We age, and we die, just like most species.”

  “How long do you live?” Beverly asked.

  Sellassars shifted on the biobed. “Thanks to the Barth, I am nearing my three hundredth anniversary. Oh, I remember a time when the Gamma Quadrant was so peaceful. I wish you could have seen it. Everything was clean, pristine, and wonderful.”

  “I’m sure you do,” Picard said. “Beverly, are you finished?”

  She checked her equipment tray and, save for the slide for the Barth samples, she had all that she needed. “Yes. Thank you, Sellassars. I would be very interested in hearing more about your people some time, if your schedule permits it.”

  The Kendarayan smiled again. “And I would love to learn more about your culture as well, Doctor.”

  “Perhaps another time,” Jean-Luc said, ushering Sellassars toward the door.

  “Another time,” Beverly replied, watching the sickbay doors close behind them. That was when her eyes caught sight of the chronometer. Damn. I’m late for rehearsal. “Computer, activate Emergency Medical Hologram.”

  The EMH materialized in the air behind her. “Please state the nature of the medical emergency.”

  Before she could get another word out, the sickbay doors slid aside for Alyssa Ogawa. “What are you still doing here? Isn’t it time for rehearsal?”

  “I’m trying to get down there now,” Beverly said. She handed one vial of Sellassars’s blood to Alyssa, putting the other in the one locked drawer in her office. “Run this through every test we have in the computer. Think of a few more if you can. I want to know everything you can find out from this. Don’t worry about anything, because we have two vials. I just want to keep the second one locked up to keep it safe.”

  “Understood, Doctor.”

  Beverly grabbed her blue overjacket, throwing it on over her uniform as she left. “And, please, try to help the EMH hone his bedside manner a bit. Counselor Troi’s scheduled to come in for observation tonight. Make sure you have a biobed set aside. Put every sensor in the book on her. If she slips into another coma, I want to know exactly where and when. And don’t hesitate to call me if you need me. Okay?”

  Ogawa’s eyes took on a momentarily overworked look, then she smiled. “Get going, director.”

  CHAPTER

  6

  “Who are you?”

  “Ask me who I was.”

  “Who were you then?” Barclay said, pushing his practiced accent. “You’re particular, for a shade.”

  Riker took a step forward. “In life, I was your partner, Jacob Marley.”

  “Can you—can you sit down?” asked Barclay, giving him just the right dubious look.

  “I can.”

  “Do it, then.”

  Riker worked his way across the stage to the chair opposite the fireplace. “You don’t believe in me.”

  “I don’t,” Barclay replied.

  Riker extended a hand out into the room. “What evidence would you have of my reality beyond that of your senses?”

  “I don’t know,” said Barclay. Beverly didn’t know whether he was doing it intentionally, but he was curling into the bed like a child crawling away from the bogeyman, but not wanting to turn his eyes from the sight.

  “Why do you doubt your senses?” Riker asked, sitting comfortably in his chair.

  Barclay shook his head. “I’m sorry, Doctor, can I have a break, please?”

  “All right, let’s take five. But when we get back, I want to move ahead a bit. I want us to start taking a stab at the Ghost of Christmas Past. Reg, we’ll start that when you’re in the zero-G harness.”

  “Zero-G harness?” Beverly could hear him nervously swallowing from across the theater.

  “It’s okay, Reg. I brought the anti-vertigo medication. If you get even the slightest bit queasy, I want you to take it. Understand?”

  Reg quickly nodded. “There aren’t side effects to this, are there?

  Beverly’s eyes darted to where Riker sat, a Cheshire cat grin on his features. “Don’t you dare, Will Riker,” she heard Deanna Troi say from the audience. “That wouldn’t be fair, and you know it.”

  Riker’s smile faded, but just a bit. “She’s turning into her mother more and more every day.”

  Beverly cringed, hoping that Deanna didn’t hear that. Judging by the fact that she was still sitting in the otherwise empty theater, she either hadn’t heard, or had heard and wisely chosen to ignore the comment. Those two are turning into an old married couple more and more every day. Wonder who’s going to give in first?

  She was dragged out of that thought by the appearance of the hologram that was acting as the Ghost of Christmas Past. It swooped down and landed gently at her side. Beverly took it in with great pleasure; it was just as childlike as Dickens had dictated, yet just as much withered with age. Its long white hair was perfectly wraithlike, yet its body was full of the vitality of youth. The ghost’s white tunic was trimmed with summer flowers, but the pure white fabric still looked as though it would have the touch of a rose petal. For the first time since Beverly had begun this production, she was happy with what she saw in a character. Even though the Ghost of Christmas Past was the creation of a mind long gone, the idea that she could stand there and have a chat with it as though it were just another actor in her troupe made her a bit fonder of the holodeck as the new ship’s theater.

  If we could just fine-tune the scene design, we’ve already got the virtual actors for the roles I can’t fill. It’s just a matter of bringing everything to life.

  “Dr. Crusher to sickbay immediately. Medical emergency.”

  She was beginning to dread that page. “All right, everyone. I want you to run through the scene with the Ghost of Christmas Past. Will, can you keep an eye on things until I get back?

  Riker nodded, and Beverly couldn’t help but notice that Deanna was falling asleep against Riker’s shoulder. “Deanna?”

  She didn’t respond.

  “Deanna?”

  Will tried to shake her awake, but it didn’t work. “Everyone, keep running lines until one of us gets back. I’ll be right behind you, Beverly,” he said, pulling Deanna into his arms and carrying her through the holodeck door.

  CHAPTER

  7

  When Beverly reached sickbay, she was greeted by the sight of Jean-Luc’s unconscious body on the first biobed in the room. Alyssa was going over his readings with an utterly perplexed look on her face. “Jean-Luc. Alyssa, what happened?”

  “He walke
d in saying something about having trouble sleeping. Before I could get him a somnetic inducer, he was out cold on the floor.”

  “Yes,” the EMH coldly said, wandering in from her office. “This problem appears to be spreading.”

  That was when it sank in for Beverly. Jean-Luc’s biobed wasn’t the only one occupied. Will laid Deanna down in the bed next to Jean-Luc’s, but La Forge was in the next bed, and Amarie, the resident musician/bartender in Ten-Forward, was flat on her back in the surgical biobed. All four of her arms were hanging limp at her sides.

  “They’re all in comas?”

  Ogawa nodded.

  “Wait,” Beverly said, walking past the EMH and into her office. “This is the same time Deanna went into her first coma last night. What’s the connection between them, though?”

  Will stood at the door to her office. “A bartender, an engineer, the captain, and the counselor. Where have they all been?”

  That was when it occurred to Beverly. “Or who have they all touched?”

  “Surely you don’t think?” the EMH began. “They can’t all have touched the envoy. That would be far more convenient than even I would like to admit.”

  “Crusher to Data. Could you please escort the envoy to sickbay? I need to speak to him as soon as possible. Tell him there’s a medical situation on the ship, and I want to make sure he’s protected. I’m not sure the Barth will help him on this.”

  “Yes, Doctor. I shall bring him to sickbay immediately.”

  “Dr. Crusher?” Alyssa said. “None of them are—Commander Riker!”

  Riker was losing consciousness, slowly sliding down the wall of Beverly’s office. Without even being asked, the EMH carried Riker to the one remaining empty biobed. “He’s comatose, as well.”

  “None of them are entering REM sleep?” Beverly asked.

  Ogawa shook her head.

  “There’s something here, Alyssa. And I’ll bet it’s those damn Barth that he won’t let me look at. Computer, track the movements of Envoy Sellassars for the last eighteen hours.”