slightly. She made a wry face. “Doctor, I want some answers out of him.”
Beverly shook her head. “Are you going to ask me for ‘truth serum’? I’m fresh out. Better see what Deanna can do. Ah—”
The door opened; Geordi came in and stood by the desk, holding a tricorder. “Can I dump to your terminal, Doctor? I didn’t want to do it out there… our boy’s watching, though he’s trying not to look it.”
“Feel free.”
“Report, Mr. La Forge,” Picard said.
Geordi looked both annoyed and intrigued. “Captain, both his communicator, as you discovered, and his uniform are forgeries. The communicator’s just a dummy, made of base metals, no silicates or transtator components. And the thread in the uniform, though it’s replicated material, has the wrong molecular structure. Or at least, a different one from what’s in our uniforms.” Geordi raised his eyebrows. “More than that—the
tailoring’s
bad.”
Beverly had to smile. Picard looked momentarily wry. “I assume you’re commenting on something besides the workmanship.”
“Yes, sir. Normally the computer adjusts fit to change with the changes in your body, using your last uniform as a template. But this was a one-off, if I’m any judge. The computer that made it wasn’t sure how to tailor it: it was using some other set of algorithms, and it made a botch of it. What that guy’s got on is definitely not the uniform he usually wears. Whatever
that
might be.”
“Well. Someone has gone to a lot of trouble to get an impostor onto my ship. I intend to get to the bottom of this—preferably humanely, but…” Picard touched his communicator. “Picard to Counselor Troi.”
“
Yes, Captain?”
“Please access the information presently in Dr. Crusher’s terminal regarding our intruder. Then I would be pleased to see you in sickbay to give us the benefit of your impressions.”
“
Right away, sir.”
“One thing first, Mr. La Forge,” Picard said. “The first we knew of this intruder was when we detected his presence in the computer core. Why didn’t we get any alert to the fact that someone had transported aboard?”
“I don’t know, Captain.” Geordi looked embarrassed. “I’m looking into it.”
“I’ll expect answers at the department heads’ meetinglater. Meanwhile”—the captain looked out through the glass—“let’s see what the counselor discovers.”
Having reviewed the security tape of Stewart’s capture, and having finished reading Dr. Crusher’s report, Deanna Troi made her way down to sickbay in a state of some unease. She knew Stewart slightly, having met him before in Ten-Forward; he had invited her down with some other crewpeople to see his plant collection, and they had spent a cheerful afternoon in one of the greenhouses. But his medical and psych profiles had always been unremarkable. He was simply a good steady crewman, not an under-achiever or overachiever; interested in research—he had been doing some extremely delicate work on one of the more impenetrable alien DNA-analogues. The image of this crewman trying to break into the computer was ridiculous… but she already knew it wasn’t him. There was no other way to read the data, no matter how impossible it seemed.
She was uneasy, though, at the appearance of this sudden extra persona wearing a body she had thought she was familiar with. As usual when she was uneasy, Deanna had “managed it away”—had gotten right down into the unease, experienced it sufficiently for it to no longer feel actively uncomfortable, and then had sealed it over temporarily. Unfortunately there had been no time to indulge herself in enough self-work to feel completely at rest. The taut sound of the captain’s voice had made it plain that time was of the essence. But she still found herself wondering what she was going to find when she went into sickbay.
She paused for a long moment outside the doors, seeing what she felt. There was a knot of tight
Beverly shook her head. “Are you going to ask me for ‘truth serum’? I’m fresh out. Better see what Deanna can do. Ah—”
The door opened; Geordi came in and stood by the desk, holding a tricorder. “Can I dump to your terminal, Doctor? I didn’t want to do it out there… our boy’s watching, though he’s trying not to look it.”
“Feel free.”
“Report, Mr. La Forge,” Picard said.
Geordi looked both annoyed and intrigued. “Captain, both his communicator, as you discovered, and his uniform are forgeries. The communicator’s just a dummy, made of base metals, no silicates or transtator components. And the thread in the uniform, though it’s replicated material, has the wrong molecular structure. Or at least, a different one from what’s in our uniforms.” Geordi raised his eyebrows. “More than that—the
tailoring’s
bad.”
Beverly had to smile. Picard looked momentarily wry. “I assume you’re commenting on something besides the workmanship.”
“Yes, sir. Normally the computer adjusts fit to change with the changes in your body, using your last uniform as a template. But this was a one-off, if I’m any judge. The computer that made it wasn’t sure how to tailor it: it was using some other set of algorithms, and it made a botch of it. What that guy’s got on is definitely not the uniform he usually wears. Whatever
that
might be.”
“Well. Someone has gone to a lot of trouble to get an impostor onto my ship. I intend to get to the bottom of this—preferably humanely, but…” Picard touched his communicator. “Picard to Counselor Troi.”
“
Yes, Captain?”
“Please access the information presently in Dr. Crusher’s terminal regarding our intruder. Then I would be pleased to see you in sickbay to give us the benefit of your impressions.”
“
Right away, sir.”
“One thing first, Mr. La Forge,” Picard said. “The first we knew of this intruder was when we detected his presence in the computer core. Why didn’t we get any alert to the fact that someone had transported aboard?”
“I don’t know, Captain.” Geordi looked embarrassed. “I’m looking into it.”
“I’ll expect answers at the department heads’ meetinglater. Meanwhile”—the captain looked out through the glass—“let’s see what the counselor discovers.”
Having reviewed the security tape of Stewart’s capture, and having finished reading Dr. Crusher’s report, Deanna Troi made her way down to sickbay in a state of some unease. She knew Stewart slightly, having met him before in Ten-Forward; he had invited her down with some other crewpeople to see his plant collection, and they had spent a cheerful afternoon in one of the greenhouses. But his medical and psych profiles had always been unremarkable. He was simply a good steady crewman, not an under-achiever or overachiever; interested in research—he had been doing some extremely delicate work on one of the more impenetrable alien DNA-analogues. The image of this crewman trying to break into the computer was ridiculous… but she already knew it wasn’t him. There was no other way to read the data, no matter how impossible it seemed.
She was uneasy, though, at the appearance of this sudden extra persona wearing a body she had thought she was familiar with. As usual when she was uneasy, Deanna had “managed it away”—had gotten right down into the unease, experienced it sufficiently for it to no longer feel actively uncomfortable, and then had sealed it over temporarily. Unfortunately there had been no time to indulge herself in enough self-work to feel completely at rest. The taut sound of the captain’s voice had made it plain that time was of the essence. But she still found herself wondering what she was going to find when she went into sickbay.
She paused for a long moment outside the doors, seeing what she felt. There was a knot of tight
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