Star Trek

Other eBooks in the Star Trek™:
Starfleet Corps of Engineers series
from Pocket Books:

#1:
The Belly of the Beast
by Dean Wesley Smith

#2:
Fatal Error
by Keith R.A. DeCandido

#3:
Hard Crash
by Christie Golden

#4:
Interphase
Book 1 by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore

#5:
Interphase
Book 2 by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore

#6:
Cold Fusion
by Keith R.A. DeCandido

#7:
Invincible
Book 1 by David Mack & Keith R.A. DeCandido

#8:
Invincible
Book 2 by David Mack & Keith R.A. DeCandido

#9:
The Riddled Post
by Aaron Rosenberg

#10:
Gateways
Epilogue:
Here There Be Monsters
by Keith R.A. DeCandido

#11:
Ambush
by Dave Galanter & Greg Brodeur

#12:
Some Assembly Required
by Scott Ciencin & Dan Jolley

#13:
No Surrender
by Jeff Mariotte

#14:
Caveat Emptor
by Ian Edginton & Mike Collins

#15:
Past Life
by Robert Greenberger

#16:
Oaths
by Glenn Hauman

#17:
Foundations
Book 1 by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore

#18:
Foundations
Book 2 by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore

#19:
Foundations
Book 3 by Dayton Ward & Kevin Dilmore

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

An
Original
Publication of POCKET BOOKS

Copyright © 2002 by Paramount Pictures. All Rights Reserved.

This book is published by Pocket Books, a division of Simon & Schuster, Inc., under exclusive license from Paramount Pictures.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

ISBN 0-7434-5671-8

First Pocket Books Ebooks Edition May 2002

POCKET and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster, Inc.

Visit us on the World Wide Web:
http://www.SimonSays.com/st
http://startrek.com

To Peter, who taught me that
anyone
can write …
… and to Harlan, who taught me that
anybody who
can
write,
should
write.

First and foremost, my medical advisor, Dr. Matthew Sims, who went above and beyond the call in answering my questions. Any errors that crept in are my fault, not his.

Keith DeCandido, who through strange circumstances is responsible for most of my professional writing sales to date.

David Mack, who spent a lot of time working with me on the last Plague I was exposed to. I'm still not sure if he's forgiven me for introducing him to John Ordover.

And finally, my own twin towers, Lisa Sullivan and Brandy Hauman.

“It is not the oath that makes us believe the man, but the man the oath.”

—Aeschylus

“Healing is a matter of time, but it is sometimes also a matter of opportunity.”

—Hippocrates

L
ense focused.

The sickbay of the
da Vinci
was quiet, with Vance Hawkins the only patient in, being treated for a fractured ulna and torn ligament injury sustained during a security drill. Dr. Elizabeth Lense was ignoring him. She continued to sit in her office and stare at the computer screen on her desk.

Emmett, the Emergency Medical Hologram treating the injury, closed the tricorder. “You are free to go, Mr. Hawkins. Your injury will be fine by the end of the week. May I suggest that you be more careful next time?”

“Sorry. Occupational hazard.”

“Yes, well, perhaps a change of occupation might be better for you. You've visited sickbay more than any other member of security. You may wish to consider a less hazardous line of work.”

“What? And give up show business?”

“I'm sorry, I don't quite get the reference.”

“Never mind. Doctor, is there anything else I should do?”

“No,” Emmett said. “Avoid overuse of the arm, and general rest should be fine.”

“Doctor?” He looked past Emmett and addressed Dr. Lense.

“Hmm?” Dr. Lense looked up, distracted.

“Is there anything else I should be doing for my arm?”

“No, what Emmett said is just fine.”

“Okay. Thanks. And thank you, Emmett.”

“You're more than welcome. Always happy to see you. Not happy to see you hurt, of course, but—”

“I know what you meant, you big lug. Don't use too much electricity.”

Emmett watched him leave, then said, “Dr. Lense, I've filed a full report. Is there anything else you need me for?”

“No, Emmett. Switch off, but reactivate if anybody else comes in. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Doctor.” Emmett vanished.

“Good boy,” she said to the empty air.

She went back to her terminal, tapping occasionally at different places on the screen. Eleven minutes later, her communicator beeped.
“Gold to Lense.”

“Go ahead, Captain.”

“Doctor, I'd like to see you in my ready room.”

“Certainly. I can be up by the end of the—”

“Now, Doctor, if you don't mind.”

Lense hesitated. “All right. I'll be there in five minutes.”

“Thank you. Gold out.”

Resigned, Dr. Lense got up to leave—abandoning the problem she had been working on and was so close to solving.

She didn't see that by moving the red nine to the black ten, she would free up the ace of clubs.

Captain's Personal Log, Stardate 53661.9.

I've just summoned Dr. Lense to my office. Actually, “ordered” is probably the correct word.

I hate to actually pull rank on my crew. The fact that I have just done so merely indicates to me that my course of action is an appropriate one.

Because of the nature of that action, I am going to record the transcript of our upcoming conversation here. Should it be necessary later, I will transfer it to an official log entry, although it's my hope that can be avoided.

Times like this, I wish Rachel was here. She always reads people better than I do. It was good to see her, Daniel, Esther, and the twins—not to mention Esther's new beau, Khor, son of Lantar.
That
meeting went off without a—

The doorchime just rang. Starting transcript now.

TRANSCRIPT STARTS

• G: Come.
  

• L: Sir.
  

• G: Come in, Doctor. Have a seat.
  

• L: Thank you.
  

• G: A drink?
  

• L: Nothing for me, thanks.
  

• G: Congratulations, Doctor. You're the first officer on board the
  da Vinci
  I've actually had to call in for a performance review.
  

• L: Really, sir.
  

• G: Yes. And would you like to know why? [Pause.] It's because I know almost nothing new about you—nothing that isn't already in your official file.
  

• L: I see.
  

• G: I never see you outside of meetings that I call. I don't see you in the mess hall. I don't see you interacting with the crew, except in a professional capacity—and lately, I've been getting reports you haven't even been doing that. I understand that you've been letting the Emergency Medical Hologram do most of your patient work.
  

• L: Yes, I have. Emmett's supposed to learn procedure, and there's no other way to do that than to let him do the work, interacting with patients and situations in the field.
  

• G: The specifications on this EMH gave him a huge medical database. Yes, it had the personality of a first-year resident, but that was to make it seem eager and helpful. Not burned out and abrasive.
  

• L: Well, that may be what was planned. He's still rough around the edges. I believe he needed real-world experience, and I've been giving it to him. And to be fair, you don't have the expertise in the field to make that decision as to his medical skills and expertise.
  

• G: We're digressing, Doctor. This isn't about the EMH. It's about you. I'm beginning to think that
  you're
  the one that's burned out.
  

• L: I see.
  

• G: You know, I have records here going all the way back to your time in the Academy. I have this glowing recommendation from the head of Starfleet Medical at the time, Dr. Crusher. Have you ever seen it?
  

• L: No. I only took one class with her, then she went back to duty on the
  Enterprise.
  

• G: Let me quote: “Elizabeth Lense is one of the fastest studies I've ever come across. Brilliant and incisive diagnosis ….” An outstanding school career, first in your class at the Academy, all of it leading to being appointed CMO of the
  U.S.S.
  Lexington
  right out of Starfleet Medical. Unprecedented in Starfleet history in peacetime. A truly great honor … and then you end up here.
  

• L: Here? Captain Gold, the
  da Vinci
  is a fine ship—
  

• G: A damn fine ship, and thank you for the compliment. But after serving on the
  Lexington,
  with a crew complement of hundreds, this is a bit of a reduction of duties, wouldn't you say? Going down to a ship with only forty crewmembers? A ship so small you go from a suite of your own to sharing a room? A ship so small … that it doesn't even have a ship's counselor.
  

• L: Pardon me, but could I take you up on that offer for a glass of water?
  

• G: Certainly. You don't mind if I continue?
  

• L: Could I stop you?
  

• G: Not particularly.
  

• L: Well. Go ahead, then.
  

• G: Thank you. Computer, a glass of water, please. [Replicator hum.] Here you go.
  

• L: Thank you, sir.
  

• G: Now then, back to the matter at hand. Over the past few weeks, you've been less and less engaged with this crew and with your duties. I noted that you've been spending more time eating in sickbay than your quarters or the mess hall. You're in a bad way, Doctor, and it's beginning to seriously affect your work.
  

• L: That's absurd.
  

• G: You don't believe me? Gold to Emergency Medical Hologram.
  

• EMH: Sickbay, Emmett here. May I help you, Captain?
  

• G: Emmett, I need a diagnosis. Would you say that Dr. Lense has been behaving erratically lately? A little off-kilter?
  

• L: Emmett—
  

• G: Pipe down, Doctor. Or else.
  

• E: Captain, is Dr. Lense with you? Does she require medical assistance?
  

• G: No, nothing at the moment. I was merely asking if she'd seemed off-kilter to you.
  

• E: Dr. Lense has seemed … fatigued, lately. Somewhat listless. She has shown markedly diminished interest in almost all activities most of the day. I would suspect a degree of sleep disorder based on observation.
  

• G: Your diagnosis?
  

• E: Her symptoms are characteristic of a depressive episode. I couldn't attest to state of mind or causes without further examination.
  

• G: Thank you.
  

• E: Is there any other way I can be of assistance, Captain?
  

• G: Not at this time. Gold out.
  

• L: [Unintelligible] observant, I'll give him that.
  

• G: Well, Doctor? Do you disagree with your colleague's conclusion?
  

• L: He's not a colleague, he's a database with delusions of grandeur. A mechanic of flesh instead of clockworks.
  

• G: So, wrong that makes him? Doctor, you know he's right. You finagled your way onto a ship that didn't have a counselor. I can't prove it, but you know it and I know it. I can only assume that's because you don't want to deal with your problems, and I can respect that up until the point where they become my problems. And a nonfunctional CMO is my problem.
  

• L: So what are you going to do about it?
  

• G: Well, that's another problem. Standard operating procedure would probably be to have you taken off active duty and sent for a psych workup. But that would require us getting you to a counselor who could do that, and probably would entail leaving you at the nearest starbase for a month. Either our scheduled maintenance visit to Sherman's Planet would have to be delayed or I'd have to give you a shuttlecraft, and we only have the two. Either way, I'd be without a chief medical officer for who knows how long, and you'd almost certainly be reassigned, with a nasty mark on your service record. Your career might never recover. I don't want to do that and neither, I suppose, do you. So we're going to try and avoid the whole magilla.
  

• L: Sir?
  

• G: Instead, we're going to have our own little counseling sessions right here. You and me, at least once a week for the foreseeable future, in this office, with all conversations kept out of the official record as long as things go well. And we're going to talk and try to get to the bottom of this.
  

• L: You're no doctor, and you're not a counselor either.
  

• G: No, I'm not. But I'm your commanding officer. And I'm the one you have to convince that you're not just going through the motions, that you really are in shape to serve on board my ship.
  

• L: Fine. Whatever.
  

• G: You're resenting this.
  

• L: I don't have to talk to you.
  

• G: Actually, yes, you do. Complain all you want, this is what we're going to do.
  

• L: I could invoke my Seventh Guarantee rights.
  

• G: You do that and I'll make all this official, and have you transferred off this ship, downchecked for active duty, and sent for an immediate psych exam. Playing this by the book is not the way you want to go, believe me.
  

• L: You realize that I could have you removed from command for medical reasons.
  

• G: You'd have to show cause eventually, Doctor, or face charges of mutiny. And before that, you'd still have to deal with Gomez—I guess you'd have to throw Gomez into the brig too. And then Duffy. And so on. But you know, it doesn't even matter. You'd never even go as far as relieving me of command. I know it and you know it. But I don't think you know why, do you? [Pause.] It's because you don't want to take the responsibility for making the decision.
  

• L: Maybe I'll just be happy getting rid of you.
  

• G: Our first session will be tomorrow at 0800. Dismissed.
  

• L: I—
  

• G: You're dismissed, Doctor.
  

TRANSCRIPT ENDS

Well … that was fun. I can just imagine how our sessions are going to go.