Star Trek - Relics. Part 7

Scott looked to Beverly. "I dinnae know. How am I feeling, Doctor?"

Crusher grunted in mock-seriousness. "Well," she said, "other than a couple of b.u.mps and bruises and a slightly battered arm, I'd say you feel fine for a man of a hundred and forty-seven."

Scott cast Picard a rakish look. "How about that? An' I dinnae feel a day over a hundred and twenty!"

Picard grinned at Scott politely. However, he didn't join in the bantering. As Crusher knew from long experience, that just wasn't the captain's style.

"I must say," Picard commented, "I was more than a little surprised when Commander Riker informed me that you were aboard the Jenolen. Our records didn't list you as one of their crew."

Scott's smile faded a little. "I wasn't actually a member of the crew, sir. Truth to tell, I was just a ... a pa.s.senger." He winced again, just as he had when Crusher had touched a sore spot on his arm. "I was heading for Norpin Five, y'see, to settle down and enjoy my ... retirement."

He spat out the last word as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. And maybe it did, Crusher mused. Obviously, the man found the whole idea of retirement an embara.s.sment.

"I see," remarked the captain. "Well, I would very much enjoy the opportunity to discuss your career at some point. History is one of my hobbies... and I'm sure you have some fascinating insights into the events of your time."

"I dinnae know if I'd call them fascinating exactly," Scott replied, smiling at each of them in turn. "But I'd be happy to answer your questions."

"Good," said Picard. "I look forward to it. Unfortunately, I must return to the bridge now."

"I know the feeling," Scott said. "Duty calls. I've been called to the bridge a few times myself, y'know."

He's a.s.serting himself, thought Crusher. Reminding us that he was once important too.

"So I understand," the captain a.s.sured him. Turning to Geordi, he said in a somewhat less casual tone "Commander, we need to begin a full a.n.a.lysis of the Dyson Sphere."

Geordi nodded. "I'll get right on it, sir."

Finally, Picard refocused his attention on Crusher's patient. "Again, welcome aboard, Mr. Scott." And with that, he took his leave of them.

A moment later, Geordi turned to Scott. "You heard the captain. I have to get back to engineering to start that a.n.a.lysis."

Scott's face lit up at the word. "Engineering, lad? I thought ye'd never ask!"

And before Crusher could stop him, he'd moved down off the biobed to accompany Geordi. However, the doctor wasn't about to give Scott the run of the s.h.i.+p-not after what he'd been through. Though he was in generally good health, there was no telling what kind of long-term effects that kind of experience would have on a human body.

"Just a minute," she said, placing a restraining hand on the older man's shoulder. "Where do you think you're going?"

Scott looked at her, puzzled. "What is it, la.s.s? Ye've finished yer tests, have ye nae?"

"True," Crusher conceded. "But you've had quite a shock to your system and I don't want you to push yourself too hard. The first thing you're going to do is get some rest."

Scott seemed on the verge of protesting-until Geordi intervened. "We're pretty busy right now anyway, Captain Scott. But I'd be happy to give you a tour of engineering a little later, when the doctor says it's okay."

Scott looked from one of them to the other. Faced with uniform resistance, he sighed. "Aye," he said in a resigned tone, even managing a little smile. "When the doctor says it's okay."

"Great," said Geordi. "See you then."

As they watched him exit through the sickbay doors, Beverly turned to Scott. "I'll ask for an ensign to show you to your quarters," she said.

"Whatever ye say," he told her. He was clearly disappointed.

But Crusher wasn't about to give in. If all went well, there would be plenty of time for Scott to see engineering and whatever else he liked-later.

By now, Ensign Kane had expected Commander Riker to be treating him a little better. But he wasn't. Far from it. Kane was still mired in cargo duty-much to the detriment of his status among the other ensigns.

Kane hated to admit he was wrong. He hated being shown up. So instead of keeping his mouth shut, since that was what had gotten him into this hole in the first place, he opted to dig a little deeper.

"I'm telling you," he said, commanding the attention of the other half-dozen male ensigns in the rec room, "the man's going to come crawling to me on his knees, begging my forgiveness. Just wait and see."

Tranh, who'd graduated just behind Kane at the Academy, shook his head and chuckled. "Sure he will. And then we'll all put on dresses and do a little jig."

That got the rest of them laughing-even Sousa, who'd turned out to be Kane's best friend in this sorry bunch. Kane could feel his cheeks growing hotter with each pa.s.sing moment.

"Go ahead," he said, putting on the best show of confidence that he could muster. "Laugh all you want. You're going to look pretty funny dancing around in those dresses."

That got the chuckles going his way. He smiled, building on his progress. One thing Darrin Kane knew how to do was work a crowd.

"Tell you what, though," he said. "When I'm up there on the bridge, impressing the h.e.l.l out of the captain, I won't forget my friends. I'll make sure you get twice the recommended-"

Before he could finish, a voice rang out in the rec. "Ensign Kane ... this is Commander Riker."

As far as the ensigns were concerned, it might as well have been the voice of G.o.d. Riker was the man on whom all their careers depended, the single most important factor in whether they realized their dreams or spent the rest of their lives as second bananas.

Kane just smiled. Finally, he thought. He's had his conversation with Picard and he's calling to make his atonement.

Well, Kane wasn't going to make it easy for him. Instead of answering right away, he took the time to grin at each of the others in turn, as if to say You see? I told you he'd come around.

"Ensign Kane?" Riker called again.

Clearing his throat, the ensign responded in a casual tone. "Aye, sir?"

A pause. "Ensign ... am I catching you at a bad time?"

Kane's grin widened. "No, sir."

"Because if I am," Riker continued, "I can always find someone else to give this a.s.signment to."

The ensign straightened at the word a.s.signment. This was what he'd been waiting for. He didn't want to blow it.

But by the same token, he didn't want to lose the entertainment value of this little scene. It was almost as important to him that he regain his preeminence among his peers as that he get his career on firmer footing.

"No, sir," Kane a.s.sured the first officer. "I'm ready, willing and able." But he put an ironic spin on the words, eliciting m.u.f.fled sn.i.g.g.e.rs and head shaking from his companions.

"Good," said Riker. "In that case, you're on duty as of right now. I want you to report to sickbay."

Kane felt as if he'd just hit some turbulence. "Sickbay, sir?" What in blazes was happening there that was so important they needed him to take care of it? Weren't there nurses for that sort of thing?

"That's right," Riker confirmed. "Sickbay. There's a Captain Scott there. I want you to escort him to his room."

Suddenly, the snickering stopped. Kane looked around at his fellow ensigns. They were actually too astonished to laugh.

Next to this, cargo duty was an honor. Escorting someone to his room ... was there a less vital job? He couldn't think of one.

"Ensign?" Riker barked. "Do I need to repeat myself?

Kane ground his teeth together. This wasn't the way it was supposed to work. He was supposed to be on top here.

"No, sir," he muttered finally. "Sickbay. Captain Scott."

"Immediately," the first officer told him. "Captain Scott will be waiting."

Then silence-ridiculing him, crus.h.i.+ng him beneath its boot. Kane wanted to fill it with curses, but that would just have made matters worse. It would only have underlined his humiliation.

Tranh smiled-too embarra.s.sed for Kane to really rub it in. Instead, he said softly "I guess we can keep the dresses in mothb.a.l.l.s ... eh, Ensign?"

He could have tolerated Tranh's scorn. But his sympathy ... his pity ... it was almost more than Kane could bear.

He wanted to hit Tranh. He wanted to make him hurt as bad as he was hurting. But he restrained himself. An a.s.sault on another ensign wouldn't look very good on his record, and there was still a possibility that his record would be important to him one day.

"Hey," said Sousa, putting a rea.s.suring hand on his arm. "It's no big deal, Kane. It's all right."

But it wasn't all right-not by a long shot. Shrugging off Sousa's hand, he got up and crossed the room, heading for the exit. He was seething; it was all he could do not to boil over.

He'd thought things were bad before. But now the situation was rapidly becoming ... intolerable.

Scott smiled. The ensign a.s.signed to show him his quarters was about as polite as they came. It was good to know that Starfleet was still choosy about who it permitted to serve on its flags.h.i.+ps.

Of course, it was possible that Ensign Kane was an anomaly among his peers, but Scott hoped not. He would have hated it if the human race had gone downhill from the level achieved in the twenty-third century.

"Here we are, sir," said Kane. He stopped in front of a sliding door, which didn't look a whole lot different than the sliding doors on Scott's Enterprise. "After you, sir."

Polite all right, Scott observed. He nodded approvingly, but the lad was too disciplined even to smile. All he did was wait patiently for the older man to enter ahead of him.

The doors whooshed open automatically, of course. A moment later, Scott saw the quarters that had been set aside for him ... and gasped.

Before he knew it, Kane had launched into the grand tour. "You'll find the closet back there, with a full wardrobe in your size. And this," he said, gesturing, "is the food replicator... and your computer terminal..."

Scott looked around the room in astonishment. "Good lord, man. Where have ye put me?"

Kane turned to stare at him blankly; "These are standard guest quarters, sir." A pause. "I can try to find something bigger if you wish."

Scott's eyes widened. "Bigger? Ye misunderstand me, lad. Why, in my day, even an admiral would nae have had such quarters on a stars.h.i.+p. In fact," he went on, his mind seeking familiar things, "I remember a time when we had to transport the Dohlman of Elaas to Troyius." He chuckled. "You never heard such whining and complaining from a grown woman in all your life."

"Uh ... right," responded Kane, as courteous as ever. "The holodecks, Ten-Forward and the gymnasium are all at your disposal." He indicated the desktop terminal. "The comp uter can tell you how to find them. Until we issue you a combadge, just use this"- another gesture-"communications panel if you need anything."

But Scott wasn't paying very close attention. Again, he was dredging up memories. "You know," he said, "these quarters remind me of a hotel room I once had on Argelius. Oh, now, there was a planet... everything a man could want, right at his fingertips. 'Course on our first visit, I ran into a wee bit o'trouble there, but..."

"Uh, excuse me, sir," said Kane.

Scott stopped. "Aye, lad?"

"I have to return to duty, sir." The ensign was still smiling politely ... but now he seemed too polite. As if he was just putting on a facade, and had been all along.

Scott frowned. What a fool he'd been. Ensign Kane wasn't interested in the Dohlman of Elaas or the accommodations on Argelius or any other stories he had to tell. Scott could see that now. All Kane wanted to do was discharge his burden and get on with his business.

"Sorry to trouble ye," said the older man.

The ensign didn't miss a beat. "No trouble at all, sir. Will there be anything else?"

Scott shook his head, his exuberance punctured. "No, nothing. Thank you, Mr. Kane."

The man didn't linger any longer than he had to. A moment later, the doors slid closed behind him and Scott was alone.

Alone. In this gigantic suite. Aboard a vast and unfamiliar s.h.i.+p.

He sighed and sat down on the overstuffed couch they'd given him. He looked around. Then he sighed again. On the Enterprise-the one he'd cut his teeth on-the hum of the engines had been audible everywhere on the s.h.i.+p, no matter where you were. After a while, he'd had trouble sleeping anywhere else, because he missed that soothing hum.

He didn't think he'd sleep well here. The place was as quiet as a tomb. Maybe there were engines humming somewhere on this s.h.i.+p, but you couldn't prove it by his cabin. Nor, he suspected, anywhere else outside of engineering.

Scott suddenly felt very lost-like a child who'd strayed from his parents' side. And he knew why, too. There was nothing for him to do here.

All his life, he had prided himself on his usefulness. If you wanted something done, you gave it to Scotty. People had called him a genius, a mechanical wizard, a b.l.o.o.d.y miracle worker.

The point was, he could make things happen. That is, if he was given a chance. And here ... here and now... there was no chance.

This Enterprise had an engineer already. And even if it didn't, he wouldn't be nearly equal to the task-not with his incomplete and antiquated understanding of modern technology. d.a.m.n ... he'd mistaken an EPS power tap for a data conduit. He could've gotten himself killed making a mistake like that.

Maybe if he'd had a family... if he'd settled down ... he would've found some other way to define himself. But the only children he could ever rightly call his own were the engines of Jim Kirk's Enterprise?-and those were long gone, like everything else he'd known and loved.

What to do Montgomery, what to do? Scott thought. Lord knew he had to do something or he'd go berserk. And he couldn't believe that he alone had been preserved-out of all those poor souls on the Jenolen -just so he could slowly and painfully lose his marbles.

He perked up at the thought. He had been preserved, hadn't he? And if that was the case, there had to be a purpose to it. Maybe it wasn't apparent just yet, but a purpose nonetheless.

"Aye," he said out loud. "Old Montgomery Scott is nae done yet. Somewhere out there in that great expanse of stars, maybe even somewhere on this s.h.i.+p, there's a piece o' machinery that needs my gentle touch. And if I'm patient, I'll find it."

Brave words, he thought. And even if he wasn't quite sure he believed them, they sure sounded good.

Chapter Five.

PICARD USED the back of his bare left hand to wipe away a rivulet of sweat that was threatening to run into his eyes. Then, with ease born of practice, he replaced his mask over his face and saluted his opponent with his blade.

A few meters away, Riker returned the salute and dropped into his crouch. Perhaps a bit too low, the captain judged. But then, his first officer was a comparative novice at the fine art of fencing.