“Well, the good news is that we’ve managed to stabilize your son. The degradation of his synaptic nerve pathways has decreased substantially and is practically nonexistent.”
The commentary on her son’s fate fell on Beverly Crusher’s numb mind. Her ears were deaf to the world; her eyes, blind. In many ways she was like her son.
“Is there anything that can be done? Any new treatments?” asked Picard.
“Our researchers here at Starbase 93 have been working around the clock. We’ve contacted numerous scientists…”
At this word, Beverly cringed.
So, my son is to become nothing more than an experimental lab rat.
“…and physicians across the quadrant. So far, nothing’s come up. I’m sorry, Captain.”
Jean-Luc Picard nodded to the unfortunate doctor who had been given the task of revealing to the doctor and himself the apparently grim outlook of young Wesley.
And yet, not so young anymore, thought Jean-Luc.
“I have to get back to the ship. Maybe there’s something I overlooked…some flaw in the virus or infection or whatever the hell this thing is…” Beverly turned to leave.
“Beverly…” commanded Picard softly, grasping her by the shoulders. “Beverly, listen to me.” He turned her towards him. Her eyes darted to and fro and did not seem to be aware of him. “Beverly…” tried Jean-Luc once more, worry starting to creep into his voice. She was going mad before his very eyes.
“Doctor Crusher.”
“Yes, sir?” Her voice had an almost-childish weakness to it as it cracked from her throat.
“I order you to look at your captain.”
“Aye, sir.” She lifted her eyes to meet his, and in that instant, she was herself again. “Jean-Luc…I…I have to get back to Sickbay. There may be some…”
“Beverly,” Picard fairly shouted, “there’s nothing more you can do! There are hundreds of talented people all over this quadrant working on the problem. You can’t expect to win every battle by yourself.”
“Look who’s talking,” she murmured. Picard let the comment pass…for now.
“Let the other doctors handle it. Everything will be all right.”
Beverly looked Jean-Luc straight in the eyes, down to his heart and soul. There she saw something she had rarely seen in this man: true fear. But whether for herself or for Wesley, she could not be certain.
“Jean-Luc, he’s my son. I can’t just hand him over to strangers, allow him to be treated like some lab experiment…” Picard was about to interrupt when he saw in Beverly’s eyes a change. “The experiment. Geordi and Data, they were working on analyzing Wesley’s research data. Maybe there’s something there. I have to find them…Computer, location of Lt. Cmdrs. La Forge and Data.”
“Lt. Cmdrs. La Forge and Data are both currently located in Science Lab 5 on board the Enterprise.”
“Beverly…”
“Please, Jean-Luc. I have to do this.”
Picard seriously considered stopping her, telling…no, ordering this woman, to whom he had lost his soul, to get some rest. But the wild desperate fire blazing in Beverly’s blue eyes shunned away any such thought.
“Beverly…I’ll go with you.”
“Thank you, Jean-Luc.”
Picard tugged at his uniform, pulling it away from his suffocating neck. He outstretched his hand, indicating for her to proceed, and they both walked solemnly hoping that their resident miracle workers would have yet another miracle waiting for them.
^\/^\/^
“We don’t have anything for you, Captain. I’m sorry. We’ve been working for nearly a month and haven’t come up with anything. There’s no reason why Wesley should be affected by anything.” An exasperated Geordi La Forge waved a PADD, hopelessly in the dim, before the Captain and Doctor Crusher. Data stepped forward from a nearby console.
“I believe Mr. Crusher’s experiment is most likely the cause of his current condition. However, as of yet, that connection eludes both Geordi and myself.”
“What exactly was Mr. Crusher’s experiment?”
“Wes was working with Kerlyn crystals. They’re very sensitive to light. His lab records indicate that he had light at a bare minimum. He was studying the reaction between plasma and the crystals. Apparently he had just added the plasma when he rushed out the door. Must’ve realized he was late for his shift.”
“Geordi, could the crystals be responsible?” asked Crusher.
“We can’t be sure. He ended his record before the reaction between the crystals and the plasma finalized. Under normal conditions, Kerlyn crystals are highly reflective and produce a lot of heat. With the addition of plasma, according to what little data we do have, the crystals glow even more and the heat output nearly triples. But, that shouldn’t have had any affect on Wes.”
“However, Geordi, Kerlyn crystals are considered to be dangerous when exposed to light.”
“But, Data, that’s only when you have mass quantities of the crystal. Wes barely had a gram of the stuff.”
“How long was Mr. Crusher in proximity to the crystals?” asked Picard.
“According to the log, Wes watched the crystals for about 30 minutes. All of his notes were vocally given to the computer.”
“Is it possible the crystals could have affected his nervous system in some odd way?”
“I did find traces of an impression on his retinae.”
“It is possible that the crystals may have had a more long term effect than initially suspected.”
“I suppose that’s just another fact we have to consider, Mr. Data.” The Captain ran a hand over his smooth head. “Could there be any side reactions occurring as a result of this “impression”?”
“Possibly,” spoke Crusher. “Geordi, run an analytical oculus scan on the readings of the left eye.”
The two of them worked furiously as both the Captain and Data stood by, completely in the dark.
“Got it!” shouted Crusher after a few minutes. “Somehow the reflective quality of the impression on Wesley’s retinae is causing a reaction with the vitreous humor. Apparently, this reaction has caused a cascade failure of almost all of his nervous system due to a frequent build-up of electrical impulses.” She stopped to take in a breath. “Those impulses have been affecting the brain directly along the optic nerve.”
“And as the energy is shot to the brain, it has to be redirected somewhere. Looks like as it was, it consequently burned out his nerves…What a side effect.” La Forge finished with a sigh of disbelief.
“Can you reverse the affects?” asked the Captain.
“The affects aren’t what we have to worry about; those are easily remedied. It’s the impression causing all of our problems. We have to negate that before we have any chance to due him any good.”
“Any ideas?”
“No,” offered Crusher and La Forge simultaneously. An air of momentary defeat settled across the four. Finally Data spoke.
“It may be possible to counter the reflection by burning Wesley’s retinae with another image, one that would not react with the humor.”
“That’s a good idea, Data. The problem is, how and where do we find a suitable image?”
“I do not know, Geordi.”
“It was rhetorical, Data.”
Data filed away the question in an area labeled “Human behavior: idiosyncrasies; Subcategory: rhetorical” and turned back to the problem at hand.
“Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way,” offered Picard. “Beverly, you said there was a type of reflected image on Mr. Crusher’s retinae. Would it be possible to eradicate that image, burn the image off itself?”
Beverly punched up a few stats. Studying them carefully for a few minutes, her eyes furrowed in both concentration and in calculation of the risks.
“It may be possible, but it would be a long tedious process. The beam would have to be configured so as not to react any further with the light and humor. Maybe if it were concentrated and a very passive beam…I think I could do it.”
“How long till you’re ready?”
“About three hours.”
“Very well. Proceed.”
The foursome broke up, Geordi and Data heading back to their research, now focusing on why this had happened.
“Beverly…” Picard hurried to catch up to her as she hurried off to Sickbay. “Beverly, wait a minute.” He grabbed her by the arm. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. “Beverly, how long does Wesley have?”
“Um…about twenty-eight hours.”
“How long does the procedure take?”
“It’s hard to say. If all goes well, it shouldn’t take longer than twelve hours.”
“Good,” he said as they stepped into the turbolift. “Deck .”
“Jean-Luc?”
“I want you to get some rest.”
“But I just…”
“I don’t care. You’re going to be working for eight hours, and you’re going to need the rest.”
Beverly sighed.
“You’re right, Jean-Luc.”
“Don’t argue with me on this….what did you say?” Jean-Luc turned to face her, disbelief cowering behind the surprise in his eyes.
“You’re right.” Beverly sighed again as Jean-Luc tried to dispel the small smile creeping over his face. “I guess I have been working myself a little hard…”
Jean-Luc coughed a small “ahem” as they stepped out of the turbolift. Beverly shot him a friendly glare. They soon arrived at Beverly’s quarters, but she was reluctant to open the door. All that waited for her was an empty, lonely room, a room that held more than four years of memories. Finally, she thought she sensed Jean-Luc’s impatience.
Her fingers pressed to the pad, and the doors swished open for her. Turning, she spoke.
“Well, good-night, Jean-Luc. No matter that it’s mid-afternoon.”
Picard’s face allowed a small, sweet smile to creep through his thoughts.
“Sweet dreams, Beverly.” There was a tender tenor to his words, the captainesque tone gone from an usually foreboding man, and Beverly felt a lump rise in her throat.
Their eyes locked, and in the moment it took Beverly to think Oh my God, Jean-Luc leaned forward and kissed her. It was verging on passion, but the sense of warmth, compassion, and tenderness let Beverly know that she was not alone.
Breaking away (which was probably one of the hardest things Jean-Luc had ever done in his life), he stepped back with a heartening smile and left Beverly standing in her doorway. She raised her hand and placed the back of two fingers against her lips.
And so she entered her quarters with a shield against the shadows.
^\/^\/^
Beverly awoke refreshed and at ease. An inner feeling told her everything would be fine, and she clung tightly to that feeling. She prayed that her faith and trust was not being misplaced. She headed for Sickbay, an aire of determination prevalent in her entire demeanor.
^\/^\/^
The surgery had taken longer than expected, bordering on seventeen hours. Beverly had cursed Jean-Luc’s earlier suggestion of sleep in worry that they would run out of time. But, just as Beverly was about to break from the constant strain of close and tedious work, the procedure worked.
She had fairly collapsed to the floor when they had finally burned the reflection harmless. In fact, her knees had indeed buckled under her. So, Beverly had left the Starbase’s Sickbay, as Alyssa and Dr. Hansen had continued to repair the retinae that had just been damaged.
Beverly missed her office on the Enterprise, so close to the actual operating theatre. But here, on the starbase, Beverly had no where to go. She meandered through the corridors until she came upon a small conference room, most likely used for private calls. The room was dark, the windows blocked by the shades, but this was how Beverly wanted it now, how she needed it.
The grief she had been holding back for some time now washed over as a tidal wave. Her body shook as relief mixed in amidst her fear. A smile broke into her tears and a bit of laughter escaped. It was over! The tears came for a long time, and when they finally stopped, Beverly fell asleep.
^\/^\/^
Her eyes darted open
I fell asleep? Nice going, Beverly. Your body’s not going to forgive you for this one.
She moved to stretch in her chair…and found herself in her own bed.
“How in the…”
“Mom? You awake?”
“Wesley…” Her mouth formed her son’s name, but hardly a whisper emerged. Could he be healed so quickly?
“Computer, time.”
“It is now 0900 hours.”
Beverly fell back into her pillows. She had slept almost a full fifteen hours, and she was still tired!
“Computer, lights.”
Wesley appeared in the doorway, dressed in a dark green sweater and dark grey slacks. At least he was still off-duty.
“Hi, Mom.”
‘Wesley. How…when…why…”
“Dr. Hansen said he was amazed to. They gave me some treatments of lipoic acid to regenerate my nerves. I still have therapy sessions for another month, but they felt I was well enough to sleep in my own quarters.”
“Wesley, come here.” Beverly held out an unsteady hand towards her son. Wesley took a staggered step forward. His movements were stuttered and halted, but he didn’t care. He could move, and nothing was going to stop him now.
“It’s okay, Mom,” Wesley said as Beverly hugged her son close to her.
“Don’t you ever do that to me again.”
“Okay, Mom.”
Beverly let go after about five minutes at which time Wesley said he was having trouble breathing. She wiped away the new tears and sat back in bed.
“Are you hungry?”
“Actually, yes.” Beverly groaned as her muscles stretched and her bones creaked.
“What would you like?”
Beverly looked up in mild surprise. She had already had her mind set on getting out of bed and stumbling over to the replicator.
“Um, coffee and croissant.”
“That it?” Wesley asked perplexed. It sure seemed like a small breakfast.
“Well, I suppose you could throw in a plate of pancakes.”
Wesley’s smile grew.
“With extra raspberry sauce?”
“You know me too well, Wesley.”
He rushed off to retrieve his mother’s breakfast. Beverly could hear the hum of the replicator at work. She sat and let her mind race wildly over the past month’s events. So much had happened…and yet, as she tried to concentrate, she couldn’t come up with exactly where the time had gone.
Wesley returned with a tray of food and drink. Beverly couldn’t help but smile.
“Thank you, Wesley.” She took a sip of her coffee and wrapped her hands around the mug. “So, what have you been up to?”
Wesley took a seat on the edge of the bed.
“Not much. Basically I’ve just been walking around the ship, poking my head in here and there. Geordi kicked me out of Engineering around 0400.”
“0400!” Beverly said, quickly swallowing the liquid in her mouth lest she choke on it. “What were you doing up at 0400?”
“Dr. Hansen released me at 0100, and if I’m gonna be going back to Gamma Shift, I’ve got to get my clock back on track.”
“You should be getting rest.” Beverly could hear the motherly/doctoral tone coming through in her voice.
“Mom,” countered Wesley, “I’ve been stuck in that…in that damn air car for nearly a month. The past few days I’ve been completely cut off.” He rose from the bed.
“Okay, okay, Wesley,” Beverly assented. She realized the emotions brewing inside her son. “Have you thought about talking to Deanna?” she asked as unassumingly as possible.
Wesley stopped at the threshold of the room. A gentle fist formed to fight the battle his mind was fighting.
“I…I dunno.”
“Wesley, you should.”
Wesley nodded his head solemnly.
“I know.”
He stopped for only a moment, and when Beverly said nothing more, he stepped into the living area.
Beverly moved her tray to the side a little while later, leaving only the blueberry sauce and an empty mug. She shivered and quickly wrapped herself up in a quilt as she stood. Carefully balancing the tray while she held the quilt on her shoulders, Beverly moved to the living area too.
“Computer,” she started to ask as she placed her tray in the Reclamator, “current location of Ensign Wesley Crusher.”
“Ensign Wesley Crusher is now on Holodeck 2.”
“Can you tell me what program is currently running on Holodeck 2?”
“Negative. That information requires a password.”
Nice work, Wesley.
“Computer, tell me what program is currently running on Holodeck 2. Authorization Crusher-Crusher-Musher.”
“Password confirmed. Program Crusher 3-Gamma is currently running on Holodeck 2.”
“3-Gamma?” There was no one around, and so Beverly was not surprised when there was no answer.
“Crusher to Troi.”
“Troi here. How are you feeling, Beverly?”
“Relieved.” That was the only word to explain how she felt. “But I’m concerned about Wesley.”
“Is he feeling okay?”
“Physically he appears to be doing fine, but there’s definitely something not right with him. He needs your help, Deanna.”
“Beverly, I…” She was about to tell her that she couldn’t help, that Wesley didn’t respond to her help, but she could sense her friend’s worry. “I’ll try.”
“Thanks, Deanna. He’s on Holodeck 2.”
“Beverly, I just can’t…”
“It’s okay, Deanna. I’ve seen this program before. Hell, I even helped program it. It can’t do him any good; it never has.”
Deanna considered the situation.
“Okay. I’m on my way. I only hope you’re right.”
“I am,” finished Beverly and closed the channel, a smile of spreading across her face.
^\/^\/^