Career Decisions
by Ron Richard
(Part Two)
* * * * * * * * *
Enterprise�s probes and sensors recorded a multitude of habitable worlds. There were forest planets, desert planets, ocean planets; carbon cycle life forms abounded in every shape, kind and color. There was an ocean world with several varieties of enormous marine animals that looked to be nothing more than acre-sized pieces of brightly colored plastic sheeting floating in the water. In actuality they were complex organisms living in family groups and traveling the currents of their respective globe, absorbing solar energy and harming nothing else.
There were flying creatures of all sizes and startling colors. One world with an especially dense atmosphere was populated with elephant-sized, winged quadrupeds. Billions of these creatures filled the skies of their mountainous planet, swooping through canyons in the thousands, literally brushing wings as they traveled in flocks hundreds of square kilometers in size.
There was reptilian life, mammalian life and microscopic life. There were fish, fowls, flora and fauna of all kinds. Every conceivable combination of proteins and amino acids was represented in this stellar vicinity. There was one exception: sentience. Every Class M planet that was surveyed showed no sign of civilization, past or present. There were no alloys, no ruins and no answers. Laws of averages that were developed by the best Vulcan statisticians were broken by the strange lack of intelligence.
*********
The turbolift doors had never taken so long to close. Once they finally did, both Jean-Luc and Beverly looked embarrassingly at each other. Neither was sure who was to give the computer a destination. Beverly offered a suggestion, �Well, I don�t have quarters on board anymore . . .� She somehow batted her eyes without actually doing so, �The conference room on deck six?�
The computer, notorious for not knowing such subtleties, began moving the lift toward the conference room. Picard made a silent decision; a big one, �Computer belay that . . . Captain�s Quarters.� The turbolift hum changed in pitch and lights on the panel changed direction, but the two occupants felt no motion change thanks to the built-in inertial dampeners.
Beverly smirked for a moment and she knew it, so she put all efforts into maintaining her best poker face. It was entirely unnecessary as Jean-Luc�s stoic gaze was rigidly fixed on the featureless door panel ahead of him as if the secrets of the universe were written there. The lift continued to its destination. The doors opened to an empty corridor. Jean-Luc was grateful for that.
Picard�s quarters looked nothing like what they had over the last several years. The bulk of his possessions were already packed and stowed away. The layout and basic furniture of course remained unchanged, but with his collection of antiques and books gone, it was nothing more a ship�s suite. In two days, Captain Thorpe would begin making his own decorating mark on this cabin. As soon as the two entered, Jean-Luc spoke to the replicator.
�A glass of Aldebaran Whiskey and a glass of Jack Iron Rum, both neat, both non-Synthehol.� If the computer was surprised that the order was not Earl Grey tea, it didn�t say so. Two glasses of liquid, one green and one brown, materialized. Jean-Luc handed the brown one to Beverly. �I believe neither of us is on duty at the moment.�
*********
�Doctor Crusher, report to Main Bridge immediately.� The computer�s voice was the one unchanging constant in a dynamic universe. Beverly had always thought it sounded a bit like Lwaxana Troi.
�Acknowledged.� She glanced once more at the acetylcholine study she had been perusing, then put it aside and headed out of Sickbay. There was something bothering her about this mission. There was a prodigious amount of data pouring in from several sources about life in this region of space. It all seemed very routine. Preliminary reports indicated so far that all of the surveyed planets had come by their biospheres in the usual fashion. Billions of years ago, proteins and amino acids combined with the energy from the strong cosmic rays coming from Shapely Center and life was born. Federation scientists had studied this process for centuries and had found that the natural formation of simple life on any particular planetary body is even more common than the appearance of dilithium ore. It wasn�t just the fact that the last planet surveyed was a perfect textbook case that was nagging at Beverly. All of these planets were turning out to be textbook cases. Beverly was so preoccupied with the problem that she almost didn�t notice the turbolift doors open onto the Bridge. The familiar background sound shook her out of her reverie.
�Doctor, you may find this interesting.� Picard was at Science Station Two, looking over the shoulder of Ensign Spengler from Botany. �Report, Ensign.�
�Aye, sir. This is an area near the equatorial region on planet designated R172.� He indicated a landscape on the screen overlain with topographic lines. �It�s a desert ecosystem with sparse water, but abundant plant and animal life forms.�
Spengler was a specialist in spores, molds and fungi and thus did not make it up to the bridge very often. Many of the more experienced officers in the Botany Department were away on extended field missions. Still, the young officer seemed at ease and gave a concise, efficient report. Picard was pleased and made a mental note of his professionalism as he addressed his superiors. He also noted however, that the man needed to go see Mr. Mott soon.
�This specimen right here,� Spengler changed the view to a blotch of purple and green on the landscape, �is a variety of lichen, which is common enough in the galaxy, but this one is a bit on the aggressive side. It produces certain amino acids that are lethal to the local plant and animal life. Contact with the lichen can cause mutations in some of the enzymes present in the other plant life, killing it. It�s also highly poisonous to most animal life; alkali based, very nasty.�
Doctor Crusher interrupted, �There�s something similar to that on Tiburon. They call it �Death Tide� or something; a kind of poisonous mold that spreads very quickly if not kept in check.�
�Bingo, Sir. This is very similar to that life form. As you know, lichen is a fungus that lives symbiotically with algae. Neither is harmful by itself. But the result of this particular union is a toxic lichen that aggressively seeks out any and all carbon-based life, destroys it and draws nutrients from the remains. Perhaps �seeks out� is a bad phrase. There is no mind at all here. The attraction is strictly chemical. But the potential is astounding. If this life form were brought to say, the Sonoran Desert on Earth, it would destroy the first piece of living tissue it came into contact with, whether it were a bird landing on it or a barrel cactus that happened to be next to it. The dead bird or cactus would be quickly consumed, broken down into simpler compounds and ingested by the lichen as nutrients. This would trigger an exponential growth spurt in the lichen, allowing it to grow by the same amount of mass that it consumed. Large, contiguous life forms like grasslands or forests would be especially susceptible. It would spread like wildfire.�
Beverly saw the point he was pedantically leading up to, �So what is keeping this from spreading like wildfire on this planet?�
Spengler was now getting warmed up, �Well sir, that�s the interesting part! In addition to oxygen, the local plant life produces another gas as part of waste exhalation process. It�s a simple, methane mix, but it keeps the lichen at bay. The gas doesn�t appear to harm the lichen, just discourages it from growing and assimilating anything else. But the thing is, how do the plants know to release it? There is no mechanism to recognize the proximity of the lichen or any kind of stimulus at all. It�s like a motor with no �on� switch. The plants appear to be defenseless, but nonetheless when the lichen gets too close to these sagebrush-like forms here, for example, the gas is released and the lichen stays put and advances no further.�
Beverly�s brow wrinkled, �So what tells the plants to release the gas?�
Spengler�s tone got spooky, as though there was a conspiracy among plants, �Nothing, Sir. There�s nothing present that could do that.�
*********
Jean-Luc and Beverly clinked their glasses together and took respective sips while looking in each other�s eyes. The Caribbean distillate of sugar cane filled Beverly�s mouth with a fiery satisfaction, caressing her tongue and flowing down to fill her belly with warmth and courage. Good stuff. She had first tasted it on the island of Grenada, years before. It did tend to make her eyes water, though.
Jean-Luc automatically started to throw back the whole shot, but checked himself. He sipped his whiskey and swirled it around in his mouth before swallowing. He wanted to remember every tiny detail about the next few hours, if all went as he hoped. He steeled himself for the opening move.
�Beverly I want you to know . . . before I leave . . . just in case there is any misunderstanding at all, that I completely understand your decision. If I were in your situation, I would . . . well let�s just say that I do understand, and that there are no hard feelings. In fact, I�m happy for you.�
Beverly�s eyes were filled with both sadness and gratitude, �I know you are, because you�ve been there before.� She raised her glass for another sip of rum. �Being given a command of your own is . . . exhilarating to say the least. There�s something almost sexual about it.� Beverly didn�t mean for it to happen, but the mention of this word caused both of them to halt their glasses in mid-raise.
�Indeed.�
Beverly took a healthy slug of rum, �And now you need to know something. When you told me about the ambassadorship and asked me to go with you . . . if . . . if it weren�t for . . . You have the worst timing of anyone I�ve ever known!�
Picard replied, �What you�re trying to say is if you hadn�t been promoted and offered the Mercy, you would have accepted my offer, resigned from Starfleet and gone to the Gamma Quadrant along with me. I know that and say once again that I understand. There�s nothing to explain.�
Beverly looked relieved, but still seemed to have something bottled up within her. �What you may not understand is just how tough a choice that was. We�ve both known for years now that there is an attraction between us. This was a chance for both of us to act on it at last.�
�Beverly . . .�
She waved him off, �No let me finish both my drink and my speech.� Beverly threw back the rest of the rum with a determined flourish. She winced with the burn. �As you know, there would be little for me to do on Tamaran. Dominion medical science is highly advanced. I would be a competent doctor among thousands. About all I could do would be to become some kind of medical consultant or maybe do some research. Not that exciting a life compared to being CMO on a starship; but you know what . . ?�
Beverly rose and went to the replicator, �Computer another rum . . .� She glanced at Jean-Luc�s now empty glass, �And another whiskey.�
She handed the green inhibition remover to her former captain, �I would have done it.�
*********
Enterprise spent more than seven weeks charting the Lynaran Sector. This place was a zoologist�s dream. The ship�s scanners and probes recorded vast amounts of information, enough to keep analysts busy for years. The field teams began to report in. Nearly all of them requested extra time to remain on their respective study planets. Unfortunately, that time couldn�t be granted. One by one, Enterprise�s small fleet of shuttlecraft bearing the field researchers began returning to the nest. The survey was complete, at least as far as the mission orders. It would soon be time to return to Federation space. A final meeting was held with the department heads.
*********
Jean-Luc and Beverly were each on their third glass of spirits. The heavy-duty, �must get this off my chest� conversation had all been said. Now they were in a giggly phase, reminiscing about old times and enjoying each other�s company more and more. Beverly�s boots were off and her feet were curled under her on the sofa. Jean-Luc was seated at the other end. They were each more than a little tipsy and the conversation was getting less and less professional.
Beverly snickered, �Earth tones. You always would dress in earth tones when you went on leave. You have something against color?�
�Natural tones, no. Some of those fluorescent colors you wear off-duty hurt my eyes. That reminds me, Computer, what is the time?�
�Eighteen-hundred eleven hours.�
�That�s it then. I�ve now been a civilian for eleven minutes.� Jean-Luc rose from his chair and headed for the bedroom.
�Beverly looked at him through eyes of rum, �And where are you going?�
�I have to get out of this Starfleet uniform. It�s not appropriate any more. I�ll just change into something more comfortable, if that�s alright with you.�
�Fine.�
Picard pulled at his collar. �That is, if I can figure out this new style of dress uniform. It�s more complicated than a warp core. Excuse me.�
While he was in the other room, Beverly took the opportunity to neaten her hair and check her breath by blowing into the palm of her hand. Several minutes later, Picard re-emerged wearing light slacks and a loose-fitting wrap around shirt that exposed plenty of white chest hairs.
Beverly�s eyes did a very obvious up and down appraisal of Jean-Luc�s appearance. �Very nice. It took you long enough. Couldn�t decide what to wear, hmm?�
�These are the only clothes that aren�t packed. Truthfully, I really did have trouble with the uniform. I discovered a trick though. You have to remove it in the correct order.�
Beverly snickered, �You mean there is an established Starfleet protocol for uniform removal? Why am I not surprised?�
Smiling, Picard said, �Actually I discovered that if you start with that clasp at the back of the neck, the rest of it is fairly easy.�
Beverly�s hand went behind her head, �Clasp? No wonder I had such trouble getting into this thing. I didn�t know there was a clasp back here. Where?�
Picard now realized that he had the weather gauge. He went for the opportunity like a Ferengi at a clearance sale.
He stepped behind Beverly and moved her Titian hair out of the way. �This one right here . . .�
*********
REPORT TO STARFLEET ON CONDITIONS
IN SECTOR 38525 A.K.A. LYNARA
SUBMITTED BY FEDERATION STARSHIP ENTERPRISE NCC-1701E
CAPTAIN JEAN-LUC PICARD, COMMANDING
STARDATE 61638.8
SUMMARY
The area of space known as the Lynaran Sector has been fully charted and recorded. Studies show multiple carbon cycle life forms consistent with standard observed evolutionary processes. Twenty-two planetary bodies were discovered with conditions that can sustain humanoid life. No sign of civilization past or present was detected within the perimeter of the sector. The remains of several extinct ancient cultures were confirmed to exist on nearby worlds in Sector 38523. Cause of their demise is unknown at present.
RECOMMENDATIONS
1. Fully equipped archaeological expeditions to further study the extinct cultures.
2. Consideration for future colonization in Lynaran Sector.
DETAILED REPORT TO FOLLOW . . .
*********
The magnetic catch released with just the right pressure. Once the collar piece was loose, the rest of the uniform�s neck opened, exposing Beverly�s white throat. She hissed somewhat unintentionally at first from surprise, but that turned into a satisfied sigh.
�Ohh, that feels better. It was tighter than I realized.�
Jean-Luc�s hands did not retreat from the back of her neck, but wandered upward under her hair and along the sides of her neck, gently rubbing her scalp behind her ears. They then moved down to both her shoulders. He stroked them back and forth softly with his fingertips, as he was aware that Beverly was not all that fond of hard massages. Still standing behind her, he carefully monitored her response, watching for any sign of resistance. There was none.
Jean-Luc moved his face closer and breathed in the scent of her hair. It was more intoxicating than the whiskey. His lips came near her ear. He whispered, �Beverly . . .�
She turned quickly, staring into his eyes for a full century, �Jean-Luc . . .�
They now both realized at the same time that Jean-Luc�s arms were around Beverly�s waist, his palms holding the small of her back. At the same time, her hands were discovered to be on his chest, the right one inexplicably on bare skin and half-way under his shirt.
*********
It had been a long mission. The entire Science Section had been working double shifts on and off for almost two months. But now they were heading back. Several small departmental parties were held, the tired researchers toasting each other�s health and congratulating several individuals on what they each hoped would turn out to be the discovery of the century.
As a Department Head, Doctor Crusher attended several of the celebrations. She was proud of her people. They would work themselves to death if they thought there was some new bit of useful or interesting information to be learned. They were all explorers in their own fields.
The giddy excitement that her subordinates were feeling was contagious to be sure. Still, there was something about those life-filled planets, something familiar. She excused herself from the conversation she was having with Ensign Spengler about psilocybin and headed for her office to look over the field reports, again.
*********
Even though it was referred to as a door �chime�, Picard always thought it was more of a �chirp.�
�Come.�
Doctor Crusher entered the Captain�s Ready Room with a handful of Padds.
�Doctor.�
�Do you have a minute, Captain?�
Picard glanced at the load in her hands. �This looks like it might take a bit longer than that, but alright.�
Beverly smiled and said, �I�ll try to keep it to an hour or less. Remember the Lynaran Sector class M planets?�
The question was a bit rhetorical, since they had just left two weeks earlier, but he played along, �Of course. My particular favorite was, I believe, R176, the one with the high mountain lake serpents.�
�An excellent example.� She chose one of the Padds and called up some information. �Those reptiles are over thirty meters long and need to consume about seven hundred kilograms of food every day to maintain their high metabolism. Ordinarily they would exhaust the limited food supply in the small lakes that they live in. As they seem to have no natural enemies, the serpents should eventually devour every other animal life form around them . . .�
Picard�s eyebrows went up a bit, �But . . .?�
�But they don�t. Every single one of those mountain lakes supports both serpents and the fish they feed on.�
Picard asked, �But isn�t this Nature�s way of keeping balance in any ecosystem?�
�That�s a kind of human way of anthropomorphizing it. There really is no such thing as �Nature� so to speak, as far as a guiding force. Ecosystems develop from natural selection, like everything else. And an ecosystem is never in perfect balance. They change constantly over time. Life is a constant struggle to get ahead of the other guy, or other species. It doesn�t matter if you are a human, a lake serpent, a lichen or a sparrow. All life forms have an instinctual need to reproduce and grow, at the expense of others, if necessary. And there will always be winners and losers.
�Your point, Doctor.�
Beverly leaned forward, �That doesn�t happen here. And I don�t mean on just R176. If this were an isolated incident, I would put it down as just a small environmental mystery that hasn�t been solved yet. But on every planet we surveyed in that sector, predation among plants and animals is completely balanced. There are no areas that have an overabundance of prey or predators. No plants or animals on any of these worlds seem to be in any kind of environmental or evolutionary danger. There are no species with dangerously few numbers, or any whose habitat is threatened by anything, although it�s difficult to be sure as these are unfamiliar worlds.�
Picard narrowed his eyes, �Are saying it�s too good to be true?�
Beverly replied, �I�m saying that area of space reminds me of the shore leave that we all took on Earth in about . . . �51, I think?�
Picard thought, � �51? Let�s see . . . that must have been . . . ahh, yes. That was when Walker and Anne and Melissa and you and Jack and I . . . my God, Wesley was just a toddler. That was when we all spent that week camping while Stargazer was refitting.�
Beverly pressed, �Do you remember where we camped?�
�Of course . . . Yellowstone Park.�
*********
Jean-Luc woke in the dark, which disoriented him briefly. As he made to roll over, he found himself restrained in some way. In a moment, he realized the cause of both his problems. It wasn�t really dark; his face, his right arm and shoulder were covered by a mass of red hair. His chest and legs were being held down by a silky arm and leg. He began to remember just where he was and his stirrings caused a small sigh of satisfaction to come from the still sleeping Beverly, who snuggled up closer to him. He then realized just what it was that woke him. He had to pee; he had to pee badly. He also seemed to have just a touch of a headache and a small hangover, which told him he had been sleeping for some time.
As he came fully awake, Jean-Luc remembered all the details of night�s activities. As had been the case in a few other midnight awakenings in his past, this time there was not only no regrets, but a sense of having never done so right in his life. This feeling, wonderful as it was, still didn�t empty his bladder. He reached for Beverly�s wrist with his free hand and gently lifted it. After a small struggle, she relaxed her coils and rolled off his shoulder, making little satisfied noises.
Jean-Luc finished in the bathroom and took a last look at his still smiling reflection. This night, he did not feel eighty years old. In fact, he hadn�t felt this kind of adolescent giddiness for more decades than he cared to remember. With a small flourish, he spun and flicked open the door. Beverly�s blue eyes met his as she stood leaning against the door frame. She was wearing no more than he was.
�Good evening, Jean-Luc, come here often?�
�As often as needed.�
�Me too. Excuse me.�
She slipped past him into the bathroom, copping a quick feel on the way by.
Jean-Luc returned to the bed. He checked the time. There were still a few hours before his ship was due to depart and the bed was still warm and inviting. It was even more so when Beverly returned and joined him. The next two hours were devoted to cuddling and dozing.
*********
�Are you saying that an entire sector of space is one huge nature park?�
�I�m saying that two dozen planets in perfect environmental balance is not natural, as strange as that might sound. It just reminded me of the carefully maintained conditions in a national park or wildlife preserve.�
Picard�s love of a mystery drove him to discover whodunit. �If that�s true, then someone or something is maintaining it.�
Beverly responded, �If that is true, then it�s something that won�t show itself; and it�s something that�s been around for a while. According to our studies, there has been no major environmental change on any of these planets for at least thirty million years.�
Picard had to be the pragmatic Captain, �We spent two months probing each planet with scanner beams down to their very cores. We had people on the surface of every one of them. If there is any kind of intelligence or controlling force in those systems, nothing showed on any sensors.�
Beverly nodded, �I know, I�ve been over every one of those sensor logs looking for . . . I don�t know what I�m looking for; my funny feeling, I guess.�
�If I run across it, I�ll have it sent to Sickbay. In the meantime, are you suggesting a course of action?�
�Actually, I was really hoping that you would have an instant answer to this, so I can stop tossing and turning at night. Even your Aunt Adele�s Sleepytime Tea isn�t working.�
Picard smiled, �Try using that along with counting the stars outside your window. Works every time. I�m sorry, that�s my only suggestion.�
�I do have one more avenue to try, but it�s probably a long shot. What�s next on our itinerary?�
�We�re scheduled to make a sensor pass of the binary pulsar in Sector 38517 before we head back toward Federation space. Then we rendezvous with the transport ship Thresher to drop off Mr. LaForge.�
Beverly seemed to make up her mind. �Good that gives me a little time, but I�ll need one more miracle from Geordi before he leaves, it that�s alright.�
*********
The next morning�s breakfast was much like countless other shared ones before that, with the exception of the footsy being conducted under the table. Jean-Luc and Beverly finished their food in silence, glancing at each other and smiling when their looks coincided. There were still no regrets from either side. Both had volumes they wanted to say . . .
�Jean-Luc� �Beverly�
�This time you go first,� Jean-Luc said.
�I was just going to repeat, in case you didn�t get it, that last night was incredible . . . amazing. Thank you so much. Your turn.� Beverly reached out and held his hand.
Jean-Luc squeezed back, �You took the words right out of my mouth. And I also wanted to make sure you didn�t think of me as some kind of rake, ravishing you and flying off across the galaxy.�
�No, I don�t think that if you don�t. I did enough of my own �ravishing� last night, so we�re even . . . You know that you didn�t have to say that. We both know we�ve wanted to jump each other�s bones for years.�
�I know, just making sure.� Jean-Luc dabbed his mouth with his napkin, then sat back and looked about him at the empty quarters. �This will take some getting used to. Ordinarily, I would be heading for the Bridge at this time. Now I have nothing to do until I depart this afternoon.�
Beverly was just finishing wolfing down her scone. �I, on the other hand have a million things to do. Mercy�s shield calibration should be done within the hour. Once that�s finished, I take her out of Spacedock to Sagan Station. I�ve got to get her settled into her new berth and get the crew started on training schedules; the new subspace relay alert system has still to be tested, and then after lunch . . .�
Jean-Luc interjected, �Well, it sounds like you�ve got a full day planned. I was hoping to beg another half-hour of your time, if you can find it.�
�I�m booked pretty solid, but with you leaving this afternoon, I have to scrounge all the time I can with you.� Slyly, Beverly asked, �Did you have something specific in mind?�
�I�d like to show you my ship.�
*********
(The story concludes in one more part.)