by Mel Gilden
Captain Pilgrim said, “Here you be and here you stay till Professor Baldwin makes his escape.”
“We want to help Professor Baldwin,” Riker said.
Captain Pilgrim gave a gruff laugh and forced them down a narrow stairway to a small room lit by a single lantern. When Pilgrim lowered the hatch, the room became moist and nearly airless. They could hear Pilgrim clumping around on the deck above.
Picard got comfortable on one of the big sacks stacked against the bulkhead, and said, “You might as well sit down, Number One. I would say we’ve been captured good and proper.”
“Excuse me, sir,” said Riker, “but you seem peculiarly relaxed about this situation.”
With sudden intensity, Picard said, “Number One, we’ve already guessed that the d’Ort’d want new pushers for their ship. It’s my guess that Baldwin’s their first choice. But in order for him to be their pusher, he’s going to have to get down to Tantamon Four. And in order to do that—”
“The d’Ort’d are eventually going to have to come to you.”
Riker smiled and nodded. He sat down next to Picard, folded his hands, and together they waited.
* * *
Worf stood at ease in front of the holodeck doors while Ensign Perry sat against the wall opposite him. Perry ran a finger around inside her collar and said, “Don’t you ever sweat?”
“Yes,” said Worf.
After a long silence Ensign Perry said, “You’re not sweating now.”
Worf made a sigh that sounded like a growl and said, “I am comfortable at the moment, thank you. Generally I am much too cold.”
“Doesn’t that bother you?”
“I am a warrior.”
Perry nodded and said, “I wish I had some water.”
Worf just stiffened and ground his teeth.
Perry smiled and said, “Don’t you wish you had some water?”
“No.”
Perry did her best to look hurt.
A moment later three things happened at once: the holodeck doors slid open, Baldwin leapt through the opening, and Worf turned and caught him. Baldwin struggled hard, but like a child.
“I do not want to have to sit on you,” Worf said.
Baldwin’s fighting subsided, but Worf still held him. Worf looked around and said, “What’s that smell?”
“Skunk,” said Perry with surprise.
“Skunk?” said Worf.
“A small Earth animal that smells bad to protect itself. Lot of them near Grangeville, where I grew up. But what’s that smell doing on the Enterprise?”
“Boogeymen,” Worf said.
“What?”
“Come along. We will take Professor Baldwin to the brig for safekeeping.”
“No,” cried Baldwin. “You must not.”
Picard sat on the steps below the hatch listening and waiting. Riker was watching him from across the room. They hadn’t heard noise from above for a long time. Without warning the pirate ship disappeared, leaving Picard and Riker standing on a blank holodeck. Blank but for Captain Pilgrim. At the other side of the big room the doors were open, and through them Picard could see Worf clutching Baldwin, who was struggling. Ensign Perry stood nearby, wanting to help but not knowing how.
Captain Pilgrim walked toward them; it was almost a stroll, not the swagger that he’d used before. He spoke in the Boogeyman voice, but it had changed. It was no longer arrogant and evil, but softer, more reasonable. Pilgrim said, “Captain Picard, you must allow Baldwin to beam down to Tantamon Four.”
“Whom do I have the honor of addressing?” Picard said.
“We have no individual names. You may call us Pilgrim.”
Riker, always quick to get to the point, folded his arms and said, “Who are you, exactly?”
“We are the d’Ort’d.”
Picard did not know what the others were doing at that moment. He was too busy dealing with his own astonishment. The d’Ort’d were obviously as alien as the sensors had shown them to be, and someday soon that alienness would be a pretty problem for a specialist like Shubunkin. Anger grew in Picard, and it overwhelmed his astonishment. He said, “Release control of my ship and we can discuss Baldwin.”
“Another controls your ship. Not us. We have tried to restrain them.”
“The Boogeymen?” Riker asked.
“So you call them.”
“Why didn’t you communicate with us before?”
“No one came on the holodeck before. Baldwin was not detained before.”
Riker gave a short, humorless laugh.
“I was on the holodeck before. With two other crew members.”
“For a long time we were in shock. Being installed in an alien computer is stimulating but difficult.”
“Not so easy from this side of the terminal either,” Riker said. He smiled, but he wasn’t joking.
“Can we have a few chairs?” Picard said.
The air wavered and four armchairs off the pirate ship appeared. They faced each other across a small campfire. Picard could smell smoke, hear the wood crackling. Was the fire a trick, a calculated ploy to relax them, or just a nice touch? These chairs, this fire, in the middle of the blank holodeck gave Picard the impression of camping in the middle of a technological wilderness. Perhaps, with the Boogeymen in command, that’s all Enterprise itself was at the moment. He and Riker sat down. Pilgrim sat across from Picard.
Riker said, “Where are the real d’Ort’d, the creatures who wrote your program?”
“Creatures? Like Baldwin?”
This was taking a very strange turn, Picard thought. He said, “Yes, like Baldwin.”
“There are no creatures. We are the d’Ort’d.”
Eagerly Picard said, “Number One, if what they say is true, it would explain why we could not find the location of the other set of aliens our sensors detected aboard the original Omega Triangulae teardrop. They have no bodies. They are a computer program.”
“Computer programs don’t spontaneously generate. Somebody has to write them.”
Pilgrim said, “No one wrote us. Our planet has a highly organized crystalline structure. The heat from the molten core is converted to electrical energy. Over millennia, the energy became organized, too. No one wrote us. We evolved.”
Contemplatively, almost as if speaking to himself, Picard said, “You were part of the information Baldwin took from the teardrop ship on Tantamon Four. You were on the infowafer he brought aboard.”
“We were happy to help Baldwin delete himself from Federation records.”
“Why?” Riker said.
Pilgrim said, “We want Baldwin. We need him.” A little of the old Boogeyman barbed inflection returned to his voice momentarily.
“To be your pusher?” Picard said.
“Yes. Our organic units died on Tantamon Four. We need Baldwin to be our pusher so that we can go home.”
“Only Baldwin?” Riker said.
“Yes. Enterprise has no focusing mechanism. Many minds were needed to push your ship back to Tantamon Four. Our ship has the focusing mechanism. We need only Baldwin to push the ship into warp.”
Picard nodded and said, “Knowing that should please Baldwin and Shubunkin.” As he had guessed, the d’Ort’d were indeed the key to Enterprise’s problems, or at the center of them, anyway. If they were telling the truth about not being able to control the Boogeymen, knowing the d’Ort’d were a living race only made things more complicated.
Riker said, “Baldwin was aboard your ship for months, poking around, doing tests. If you needed him, why did you allow him to leave?”
“We didn’t know he was there. We were asleep, awaiting rescue.”
“A rescue mission is on its way?”
“Perhaps.”
“Enough of this,” Picard said. “Before we can discuss Baldwin, I must have control of the Enterprise.”
“The Boogeymen are in control. We can restrain them, but we cannot stop them. When we decided to help Baldwin erase himself f
rom your records, we let him modify our basic structure for his purposes. That modification allowed your Boogeymen to attach themselves to us.”
“So you can’t get rid of them either,” Riker said.
“That is correct,” the d’Ort’d replied. “Nor can we stop spreading through your computer. It is our nature to grow. The Boogeymen grow with us.”
Picard wondered again if the d’Ort’d were telling the truth about their powerlessness against the Boogeymen. He decided there was no way to know and therefore it was not worth worrying about till circumstances forced him to do so. He had enough to worry about as it was—and clearly, their first concern was stopping the Boogeymen.
Picard called out, “Mr. Worf, please have Professor Baldwin join us.”
Baldwin fought Worf briefly and then went limp. Ensign Perry followed and stood between Picard and Riker. “Sir?” she said.
“Not now, Ensign,” Riker said.
Perry looked at Riker, obviously puzzled by his abruptness.
Worf deposited Baldwin like a sack in the extra chair. The exologist seemed gray and shrunken. His hair was not combed or even rakishly disheveled, only in disarray. He was not dirty, but then, Enterprise offered few opportunities to get that way. He would not look at them.
“Eric,” Picard said as gently as he could. He had to say it again before Baldwin looked up. The eyes, the slackness of his face, everything about him suggested madness.
Picard said, “Eric, we need to know how you changed the d’Ort’d code so that it would erase any mention of you from Federation documents. We need to know so we can save the ship and you and the d’Ort’d.”
Baldwin laughed. The laugh was terrible and had no intelligence behind it; it went on and on.
Chapter Fourteen
THE LAUGHTER CONTINUED. It made Picard itch in places he could not reach, inside his brain, up and down his spinal column. From their actions he could tell that the others felt the same way. Even Worf looked anxious. Only Pilgrim, the d’Ort’d persona, sat calmly.
Picard knew that Baldwin, in his present state, was far beyond his reach. None of the other sleepers had suffered what Baldwin was going through. Perhaps it had something to do with being chosen by the d’Ort’d. Or something to do with Baldwin himself. Eventually they would know. It was possible that Starfleet would someday have its own pushers, giving the Federation interstellar travel without warp engines. An age-old dream. The exploration of space would truly become a human adventure at last.
Picard walked to a corner of the big room. The walls absorbed sound and made the laughter seem much farther away than it was. In the relative quiet, Picard heard the Enterprise creaking like a ship at sea. Holodeck illusion or more Boogeyman mischief? Could the sound be real, caused by the stress put on the ship by the Boogeymen? Maybe things were even more desperate than he had thought. Ever hopeful, Picard touched his insignia and said, “Sickbay.”
“Nobody here by that name,” said a Boogeyman.
Picard came back to the overstuffed chairs and ordered Worf to go down to sickbay and bring back Dr. Crusher and Counselor Troi. “Ask Dr. Crusher to bring a complete medikit.”
“Aye, Captain.”
“What about me, Captain?” Ensign Perry said.
Picard glanced at Worf, but he was stone-faced, as usual. “Very well,” said Picard. “Stay sharp.”
Worf and Perry left the holodeck together. Did Perry think they were friends? It was possible; human women had been attracted to Worf before. The coolness, the blatant animal magnetism, the sense of humor that he tried mightily to hide—all had admirers. Interesting, but not Picard’s business. Maybe she just wanted to get away from Baldwin.
Wesley could not remember being more brainweary. Yes, he could. He’d once stayed up all night to review his plasma physics notes before the final exam. He’d forced himself to take two hours off for sleep, and it had been enough, but just barely.
He and Geordi and Data were sitting at Engineering’s master situation monitor, but not using any of the terminals. If they wanted information or lightning-fast computation, they had to use tricorders. Testing theories and figuring mathematical answers had become a frustratingly slow process.
“What about this?” La Forge said. “We can create a feedback loop so that whatever the Boogeymen do to the Enterprise will come back to bite them.”
Data shook his head. “I believe we tried a tricorder simulation of that solution four hours and thirty-seven minutes ago.”
“Did it work?” La Forge asked.
Wesley laughed at that, but Data merely said no, which only made Wesley laugh harder. The comical look of confusion on Data’s face made La Forge laugh, too. Then he took a deep breath and said, “We’re all a little slaphappy, I guess.”
All of them except Data. Being an android, he was still alert and fresh. Long after Wesley and La Forge sat staring into space, trying not to lose the trail of some possible but obscure solution, Data was still eagerly punching information into his tricorder.
The three of them sat without talking. The normal sounds of Engineering twittered and bonked around them. Computer screens were blank or were rolling up line after line of gibberish or showing distorted images of Boogeymen. Occasionally a Boogeyman would laugh or make a threat or tell the world that they had won.
At least one good thing had come out of this situation. The Boogeymen, while still disturbing, had ceased to frighten Wesley. Familiarity had diluted their power. He guessed that even if he saw them in his sleep, he would no longer consider the experience a nightmare, but only a mildly unpleasant dream.
La Forge’s staff tried to look busy, but they had little to do while the Boogeyman-d’Ort’d virus was in control of the ship. They occupied themselves mainly in staying away from La Forge, Data, and Wesley.
“Gentlemen,” Data said.
Both La Forge and Wesley jumped.
La Forge stretched. Wesley opened his eyes very wide while trying to will himself back to alertness. “You have something?”
“I believe I do,” said Data. “If we simplify the interface codes between input and lobe one of the mainframe, I believe it will allow a new machete program to access, recognize, and delete the Boogeyman-d’Ort’d virus.”
“That’s great,” said Wesley. The excitement that came with the possibility of success made him feel more awake.
“Let me see that,” said La Forge. Data handed him the tricorder. He studied the screen for a while, punched a few buttons, and studied it again. He said, “This’ll erase the combination, not just the Boogeymen.”
“Correct,” Data said.
La Forge puckered his lips and shook his head. “I don’t know, Data. If what Captain Picard guessed is true, the d’Ort’d virus is part of the information Professor Baldwin brought up from Tantamon Four. I don’t feel right about erasing it.”
Wesley said, “The virus in our computer is only a copy of what’s still on the infowafer, isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” said La Forge. “But the virus has probably been changed by its contact with the Boogeymen and with the Enterprise operating programs. Studying those differences might be useful to Lieutenant Shubunkin and Professor Baldwin.”
“Ah,” said Data. “Very good.”
“Then we can’t do it?” Wesley said.
“Not without the captain’s approval.”
“Let’s get it, then.”
“Right.” La Forge touched a companel and said, “Engineering to Captain Picard.”
Over the comlink came a hiss of static and Boogeymen singing a primitive chant that Wesley could not understand.
Wesley said, “I don’t think we’re going to get any help from the usual places.”
“No,” said La Forge. “The Boogeymen are taking our ship away from us a little piece at a time. It’s like being nibbled to death by ducks.”
They all were pretty whipped. Even Data looked grim. Wesley had an idea he was sure was in everyone’s mind. He suspected that
none of them liked it any more than he did. But it had to be said out loud and nobody else seemed willing to say it. He said, “Maybe we should simplify the interface codes and do all the rest of it without the captain’s approval.”
“Not until we’re sure we can’t find him,” La Forge said.
“It’s a big ship,” Wesley reminded him.
After a moment of thinking about exactly how big the Enterprise was, Data said, “Perhaps the tricorders can be of use.”
“Limited range,” La Forge said.
“I believe I have solved that problem,” Data said and went on to explain how they could use the Enterprise’s onboard sensor net as an antenna.
“Still,” La Forge said, “Captain Picard is just one more human male.”
“Perhaps,” said Data, “but I know his insignia identity code.”
“You don’t just happen to know that,” Wesley said.
“Indeed not. I know the insignia identity code of everyone on the ship.”
“Figures,” La Forge said. “Go on. How will we use the tricorder and the ship’s sensor net?”
La Forge and Wesley listened with growing enthusiasm as Data spoke. By the time he finished they were ready to try his plan. Ten minutes later Data had made the necessary tricorder modifications, and they went to the nearest turbolift. The doors would not open. La Forge tried to override, and after a few false starts the doors opened all the way, but still no one entered the car.
La Forge said, “I hate it when I can’t trust my own technology.”
“Yeah,” said Wesley. “We could end up anywhere.”
“The gangway is the only answer,” Data said.
La Forge and Wesley agreed morosely. The main engineering section was near the keel of the engineering hull. The captain was almost certain to be above them. After the kind of day he’d had, Wesley did not look forward to a long climb. Yet there seemed to be no alternative. “Let’s get to it,” he said.
