Star Trek - Imbalance Part 13

Picard s.h.i.+fted his attention to the other two officers in the room. Data, he knew, was eager to share the results of his geochemical surveys of the Beltaxiyan system with anyone who would listen. Crusher, although her eyes were dark-shadowed from lack of sleep, appeared almost as eager as Data to report her findings. Between those two reports, Picard hoped, he would have the information to plan their next moves. Mentally, he flipped a coin to decide who should go first.

"Dr. Crusher, would you give us your medical report?"

"Dr. Selar's preliminary tests linked the mental instability with enzyme malfunctions and showed the biochemical imbalances were related to trace element deficiencies in the diet of the Jarada on BelMinor. When we compared her results with the scans I made of various Jarada on the planet, we were able to pinpoint the problem. Problems, actually." Brus.h.i.+ng a lock of hair off her forehead, Crusher gave a sigh of frustration. "The biochemistry is very complicated, and we're only beginning to understand it."

"Can you give us a brief summary, Doctor?"

"The extreme aggression is caused by overproduction of the hormone that functions in their bodies the way adrenaline works in ours. The feedback loop that controls this depends on an enzyme that contains an iodine atom. When the iodine levels fall below a critical value, the system produces the adrenalinea.n.a.log continuously. It simply won't shut off." She grimaced, thinking of what a human with a similar condition would be like. "At the same time, the intense delusions are caused by the malfunctioning of another set of enzymes. We haven't completely worked out their proper function yet, but we do know that shortages of three of the rare-earth elements disrupt the secondary and tertiary folding structure of these proteins. At the moment Dr. Selar is administering the deficient elements to several of our guests and observing the results. Her preliminary reports are encouraging."

"Mr. Data, how do your findings correlate with Dr. Crusher's?" The physical parameters of the system would tell them the absolute limits imposed on any solution.

"The correlation is very strong, Captain. My surveys indicate that when the Beltaxiyan system formed, a number of the heavier elements were preferentially part.i.tioned into Bel-Major. In particular, BelMinor shows a strong depletion in all the rare-earth elements and in the heavier of the gaseous elements, such as iodine, which are the elements that Dr. Crusher reports are deficient in the Jaradan enzymes. Of course, it will take further study to determine the exact nature of the geochemical part.i.tioning that occurred when this system formed."

"Thank you, Mr. Data. Please consider the information you need to gather about this system, providing its owners give us permission." Picard doubted that the Jarada would want them around much longer, but if his hunch was wrong, they could start working immediately.

Riker drummed his fingers thoughtfully against the mirror-smooth tabletop. "What do the element deficiencies mean in terms of our mission, Doctor? Will the Jarada you are treating recover completely?"

Crusher shrugged. "It's too early to tell yet, but my hunch is-yes. All our simulations showed that the effects were completely reversible. In fact, Dr. Selar found some tantalizing evidence to suggest that this condition might have survival value if a hive were severely threatened. Crazed fighters, such as the Jarada we've encountered, would be harder to stop than normal individuals."

"Ritual diets or fasting are part of the warrior tradition in many societies." Troi frowned, searching her impressions of the Jarada for supporting evidence. "The carvings and mosaics we saw around the Governance Complex suggest a strong martial element to their culture."

"As did the actions of their guardians," Worf added. "However, we are not talking about their warriors now."

Riker nodded in agreement. "We are talking about an entire society that is being warped by external forces."

"The question is-do we offer them the doctor's findings now?" Picard looked at each of his officers, checking for any final recommendations before reaching his decision. Only Crusher had anything to add.

"This problem completely baffled their best minds, Captain. Any hope we can offer them is better than what they have now."

Riker s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably in his chair, trying to ease a sore muscle. "Besides, by the time they answer our message, Dr. Crusher's results may be conclusive. Unless they have finally responded, all we can do is add this to our broadcast and wait."

Picard nodded. "Mr. Data, make it so."

O'Brien was waiting in her office when Crusher got back to sickbay. "Doctor, is anything wrong with Keiko? Dr. Selar won't let me even see her."

"Keiko!" Crusher slapped her forehand with her palm. Selar had insisted on keeping Keiko overnight, but all the test results had fallen within the normal range. "In all the excitement, I forgot about her."

Lines of tension carved themselves deeper into his face. "I really didn't mean to yell at her when she got back, but- She is all right, isn't she, Doctor?"

"She's fine, Miles." Crusher fought to keep the grin off her face. "But you're going to have to be a little more understanding for a while. She's going to need your help."

"What?" O'Brien blinked, his face gone blank with confusion. "I don't understand."

"I shouldn't be telling you this first, but-you're going to be a father." Crusher watched the proud, bemused grin spread over his face and was glad she had told him. She suspected that she would get little grat.i.tude from the other prospective parent. However, that didn't mean she could put off talking to Keiko any longer.

"I'm what?" Keiko gasped when Crusher told her the news. Her shock made Crusher wonder how she had managed to ignore all the symptoms so far.

Crusher leaned against the bed, watching Keiko with an amused expression on her face. The look was feigned, because she knew exactly what Keiko was feeling. She could still remember that horrible sinking sensation when her doctor had given her similar news halfway through her last semester of residency. In the long run, it had meant only that Wesley appeared a year earlier than she and Jack had planned, but in the short term, morning sickness and medical school had been a stressful combination. Still, the experience had taught her that sympathy was the last thing Keiko needed.

"What are you laughing at?" Keiko demanded, turning her anger from her husband to her doctor. "I suppose you think it's funny or something!"

"Actually, I was thinking about myself." Crusher allowed the corner of her mouth to lift in a self-mocking grin. "You sound exactly like I did when I found out I was going to have Wesley."

"You didn't want to have Wesley?" Keiko's anger vanished as she considered this interesting puzzle. "I always thought you were the perfect mother."

"Yeah, well-" Deliberately, Crusher looked down at the floor, as if weighing a heavy confession. When she judged her timing was right, she looked up with an embarra.s.sed shrug. "Jack got an unexpected leave and-well, it happens to the best of us. I've set up a reading program for you so you'll understand what's happening with your body. And, please, come in to talk anytime you need to. I'll be glad to listen."

Keiko took a deep breath. "Does this mean I can get out of here now?" she asked in a calm tone.

"Yes." Crusher stepped aside to let her swing her feet off the bed. Keiko swept out of sickbay, pausing only to glare at O'Brien, who was still waiting in Crusher's office.

Looking crestfallen, O'Brien came up to the doctor. "Does she really hate me that much? I mean, if two people really love each other, shouldn't they be happy to have a baby?"

Crusher sighed. "Which answer do you want for that question?"

"Which?" O'Brien shook his head, looking more puzzled than ever. "I don't understand."

"You want me to tell you, 'Yes, the baby will make her happy because she loves you.' And it probably will, eventually." She gave him an apologetic grin. "Then there's the other answer, the one that isn't so easy. For every woman, pregnancy is a little different. Some become every bit as irrational as our Jarada guests-and for about the same reasons. When you put a woman's body through the changes that go with pregnancy, the mind is affected by the hormones too. Whether you want it to be or not."

"But, Doctor-how long is she going to keep hating me for this? I mean, I've got six younger brothers and sisters and my mother was always so happy when another one was coming."

Crusher shook her head. "Remember, I told you every woman is different?" When he nodded reluctantly, she gave his shoulder a rea.s.suring squeeze. "Your job is to help Keiko as much as possible. That's all you can do right now. While I"-she glanced significantly toward the security area-"have to try getting a different set of biological parameters back to normal."

"Dr. Crusher, can I ask-I mean, I couldn't help but hear what you told Keiko." O'Brien s.h.i.+fted his weight from one foot to the other. "How long did it take for you to quit being mad at your husband?"

She gave him a speculative look, trying to guess how much rea.s.surance he needed. There were times when she could use Troi's empathy! "Oh, about the time I quit being morning sick." But he doesn't need to know I was one of the unlucky few who was morning sick for eight of the nine months.

"Thank you, Doctor." His look of relief told her she had guessed right. Now, if only their solution to the Jaradan problem worked so quickly and so well! She stopped for a moment to check Tanaka's leg, which was (at last!) well on the road to recovery, before moving on to administer the next round of treatments to the Jarada.

Once more Picard and his senior officers were gathered in the ready room to discuss the Jaradan problem. They had a guest, a Jarada pilot rescued from one of the attacking s.h.i.+ps. The russet-colored insectoid stood in the corner of the room, its legs tucked under its body in a resting position. It watched its hosts with great interest, its head moving back and forth as each person spoke. "Still no response to our message, Mr. Data?" the captain asked, just to confirm what they already knew.

"No, sir. There has been absolutely no indication that the transmitter is receiving our signal."

"Dr. Crusher, what is your report?"

Crusher glanced toward her guest before speaking. "The first Jarada to receive injections of the deficient trace minerals have fully recovered. Based on this, we are administering the therapy to all the Jarada on board. We estimate that even the worst cases will be fully recovered by tomorrow morning at the latest."

Picard nodded. "Now that we have the answers to the questions, what's our next step?"

Again Crusher glanced toward her guest. The russet-colored Jarada bobbed its head at her. "I've checked the s.h.i.+p's stores and we can easily spare a three month supply of the necessary elements for every Jarada on the planet. That will give them time to locate their own supplies, even if they have to mine Bel-Major to get them. As far as contacting the Council of Elders, Zelk'helvk'veltran has some thoughts on the matter."

Picard bowed his head to the Jarada. "We would be honored, Zelk'helvk'veltran, if you would share those thoughts with us."

The Jarada stepped forward until its claws rested on the table. "In all probability, the transmitter has been taken off line or has been damaged by unbalanced individuals. I predict that most of the Council of Elders are still capable of dealing rationally with your people, if you can locate them. However, they will not be readily accessible, because they will not wish to be harmed by the insane members of our own society."

"Could you take us to Zelfreetrollan?" Picard asked, leaning forward in his chair to pin the Jarada with his command look.

The Jarada curled its arms upward toward its shoulders. "I believe I can, but I have no guarantees that he will be in the location I predict."

Yes or no? It wasn't a question to ask aloud with their guest in the room. Looking at each of his officers in turn, Picard waited for the fractional nods that indicated they felt the gamble was worth taking. "Mr. Worf, a.s.semble your team in the transporter room in twenty minutes. Dr. Crusher, Counselor Troi, and I will accompany you, as will any of our guests that the doctor feels are in fit condition to return home."

Riker, straightening abruptly to attention, winced involuntarily as a bruised muscle protested. "May I remind the captain that his duty is to remain on the s.h.i.+p in cases of potential danger?"

"Objection overruled, Commander." After a moment Picard let a smile lift the corners of his mouth. "For one, you're in no condition to move fast if it becomes necessary. But more to the point-I've got the authority to conduct this diplomatic mission. And unless I miss my guess, we're about to enter the last round of the negotiations."

"Very well, Captain." Riker looked unhappy, but Picard had effectively shot down his best arguments.

"In that case-we'll beam down in twenty minutes. Meeting adjourned."

They materialized in a deserted corridor in the center of the Governance Complex. Zelk'helvk'veltran pointed to a door near the end of the corridor. "The transmitters are in that room," it said.

Worf moved forward, phaser at the ready position and flanked by two of his men. Cautiously, he pushed at the door. At first it wouldn't budge, but with a little more pressure it swung inward. One of the security guards, crouched to make a smaller target, scuttled inside. After a minute he stepped out again, gesturing to Picard. "Captain, come see this."

The equipment was in ruins, the consoles so thoroughly battered that Picard couldn't begin to tell which device was which. Broken gla.s.s, wires, and fragments of chip matrices covered everything. Of the Jarada who had vandalized the room, there was not a trace.

Troi joined Picard. "That explains why they didn't answer our message," she said as she surveyed the wreckage. "There is no way they could have received it."

"Indeed." Picard turned toward Zelk'helvk'veltran. "You said you could take us to Zelfreetrollan."

The Jarada bobbed its head. "There is a high probability that I know where he is hiding. However, we may not be lucky enough to find him there."

"Show us the way."

Zelk'helvk'veltran started down the corridor, its claws clicking against the tiled mosaics. The Enterprise security men fell in behind it, phasers ready to stun any Jarada who challenged them. At first their course seemed random, and Picard was unable to tell where they were heading. After five minutes they reached a sloping ramp and began descending. From then on, every time they reached a split in the corridor, Zelk'helvk'veltran chose the downward route.

Twice they met groups of Jarada, crazed individuals who charged them with bone-jarring shrieks. With great glee Worf cut through their ranks with his phaser, leaving mounds of stunned Jarada to clog the tunnels. Picard felt himself grinning as he watched the enthusiasm the Klingon put into protecting his captain.

The corridors twisted and turned, going first in one direction and then another, but always heading downward. It took Picard several minutes to figure out the pattern and realize that they were heading for a location deep beneath the heart of the Governance Complex.

On the lowest level Zelk'helvk'veltran stopped before an unmarked section of the wall. The Jarada tapped against it, its claws beating a complex rhythm against the rough plaster. Nothing happened, and Zelk'helvk'veltran repeated the sequence. Suddenly every light in the corridor went out and Picard heard the grinding of security doors closing behind them. A heavy sweet scent filled the air, and then he lost consciousness.

Picard groaned and tried to open his eyes. The light was like twin spikes jabbing through his head. He slapped his hands over his eyes to block out the painful brilliance. Heat singed the backs of his hands briefly, then unaccountably lessened. Perhaps he wouldn't be roasted to death today after all.

"Forgive the manner of our bringing you here, Honored Picard-Captain." Zelfreetrollan's voice was apologetic. "You have seen the nature of the affliction that troubles our people, and we had to be sure that no one could learn of the entrance to this place."

"A simple 'Please don't tell' would have been sufficient." Picard removed his hands from his eyes and was relieved to discover that the light had been reduced to a bearable level. He and Zelfreetrollan were alone in what appeared to be a private sitting room. Half a dozen Jarada-shaped chairs and a few low tables, one of which held a pitcher and some gla.s.ses, were the only furniture.

"That technique might work for your people, but it would not have been sufficient for those of my hive who were with you." He paused, watching Picard examine his surroundings. "Please do not concern yourself for your companions. They are receiving refreshments in an adjoining area while we conclude our business."

"I take it, then, that you have some proposals that you wish to discuss." Picard shook his head to clear it. Somehow, his words seemed backward, although he could find no other sensible explanation for Zelfreetrollan's actions. The Jarada must have something new he wanted to talk about, or he would not have admitted them to his sanctuary.

"Yes. I was told that your doctor has solved the problem that baffled our best minds." Zelfreetrollan reached for the pitcher and poured two gla.s.ses of fruit nectar.

Picard accepted a gla.s.s. "Actually, it was a group effort. My people are not that different from yours. They rarely work in isolation."

Zelfreetrollan waved one claw in a gesture that dismissed Picard's words as irrelevant. "It is of little importance. I was originally going to trade you back your hive workers as payment in full for that knowledge, as is usually done in these matters. Now, I suppose I will have to convince your next in command that he must release this information in exchange for your lives."

Ransom? Picard touched his chest, feeling the blank spot where his communicator should have been. With the Jaradan transmitter out of commission, Zelfreetrollan needed their communicators to contact the Enterprise with his demands. The devices were probably somewhere nearby, well protected against any attempt to reclaim them.

Suddenly Picard felt the answers click into place. The Jarada, for whatever reason, could not accept a gift of the medical knowledge and the trace element supplements that Dr. Crusher had prepared for them. They had to have something to trade for them and, he guessed, such hostage exchanges were a standardized ritual among themselves.

Remembering the carvings on the Audience Chamber doors, Picard decided he was on the right track. If their honor would be satisfied by accepting the information and the supplements as a payment to release him and his security team-well, it was without doubt one of the more bizarre transactions of his career. He drew in a deep breath and began speaking.

"First Among Council, as commander of the Enterprise, I will order Commander Riker to give you that information." He paused, trying to guess how the Jarada was reacting to his words. When Zelfreetrollan said nothing, Picard moved to press home whatever advantage he might have. "In addition, if you will return our weapons and communicators to us, we are prepared to give you three months' supply of the necessary mineral supplements and our geochemical surveys of this planetary system. With that information you will be able to obtain what you need by your own efforts."

Zelfreetrollan studied him for so long, nervous sweat started crawling down Picard's back. If he had guessed wrong, if the Jarada were playing by a different set of rules, they were all doomed. Finally, the Jarada nodded its head. "There is one final condition to which you must agree. This is the most important condition of all."

Picard clenched his hands on his thighs, fighting not to show any reaction to seeing defeat loom again after he had gotten this far. "And what is this condition, First Among Council?"

The Jarada sipped his nectar while he looked Picard up and down, much as he would have examined a laboratory slide of an unpleasant disease organism. "After due consideration, my people have decided that we do not wish to be involved with your people or your Federation. You must promise that you will leave our planet and that your Federation will not disturb us again."

"If that is your wish." Picard let out a huge sigh. "My superiors will expect me to ask you to reconsider your decision, but I think we both know how effective that will be."

"Indeed we do." Zelfreetrollan hummed a minor chord. He stood and held out a hand toward Picard. Opening his claws, he offered Picard his communicator. "I have come to respect you, Picard-Captain, but my people have no desire to a.s.sociate with outsiders. If you will request delivery of the items you promised, I will permit you to return to your s.h.i.+p."

"As you wish." Picard activated the communicator and relayed his orders to Riker.

"There. That's the last survey." Riker s.h.i.+fted the screen so Zarn could read the file header. "Now we have delivered everything that the captain promised."

The Jarada bobbed his head. "Yes. All the terms of your agreement have been fulfilled."

Riker leaned back in his chair, moving carefully to avoid aggravating his bruised muscles. "Does it have to end this way?" he asked. "Your people and mine could learn so much from each other."

Zarn emitted a high-pitched, whistling sigh. "I, too, believe this would be good, but that opinion is not held by the majority of my people. I am bound to serve according to the wishes of my Hive, until such time as their ideas change. That is the way it has always been."

"If they change their minds, give me a call. I'd like to have a rematch with your musicians when I'm a little better prepared."

The Jarada clacked his claws together in amus.e.m.e.nt. "I think they would appreciate that as well. I am glad we were able to rescue your instrument for you from all that confusion."

Riker stood and reached for the trombone case. "Thank you, my friend. I am grateful for your thoughtfulness." He bowed, his gesture matching the formality of his words.

"And farewell to you, my friend." Zarn gave Riker a deep crouch, holding the position until the transporter beam took Riker.

Six hours later the Enterprise headed out of the Beltaxiyan system after delivering the last of the recovered Jarada to BelMinor. Picard relaxed in the embrace of his command chair, grateful to be back where he belonged.

"Do you think we did the right thing?" Riker asked, watching the image of the system dwindle on the viewscreen.

Picard shrugged. "It was what they wanted. It's not Federation policy to force people to join us if they don't want to."

"Still, I imagine Commissioner T'Zen will have something to say about all this when she gets our final report. Kind of makes you glad we're this far out, doesn't it?"

Picard groaned. "I'm sure she'll have plenty to say." After a moment a smug grin spread across his face. "Which was why I recommended that she be the next person to try negotiating with the Jarada. I'm sure they will appreciate her almost as much as we do."

Riker chuckled. "That sounds just about perfect."

"Coming up on safety point for initiating warp drive," Chang said from the conn.

"Warp factor two. Engage," Picard ordered with relief. "Take us to our next a.s.signment."