Star Trek The Next Generation - 38 - Debtor's Planet by Star Trek

Author:Star Trek
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780671883416
Publisher: Star Trek
Published: 1994-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

When Wesley entered the sickbay he found Data standing next to Shrev’s biobed. “You are recovering, Shrev?” Wesley asked quietly.

“Yes, thank you,” she answered, her voice firm by Zhuik standards. Her torn, bloodstained tunic had been replaced with a loose hospital smock. “And yourself?”

“Just a scratch,” he said, gesturing at his forehead. Wesley glanced at the indicators above the Zhuik’s head. He didn’t know the proper ranges for Zhuiks, but all the pointers floated within their green zones, so she had to be all right. That filled him with relief. She had accompanied him to Megara at his request, and he felt responsible for what had happened. “I imagine Commander Data has questions for us,” he whispered, with a glance at the android.

“That is correct—” Data stopped, cocked his head, then spoke in a low voice that matched Wesley’s and Shrev’s. “We will begin this debriefing with an account of your experiences, Ensign.”

“Yes, sir. We arrived in a street . . .”

Wesley listened patiently while Shrev spoke. From time to time Data asked him to describe the conversations he’d had with different Megarans. Data was efficient, Wesley noted, and ten minutes after the start of the debriefing his questions had brought them up to the fight. “Perhaps you should speak with Counselor Troi,” Data said, when Shrev described the native’s death at her hands. “Killing is always a traumatic event.”

“It is,” Shrev agreed, and Wesley saw how puzzled she looked. “But I must tell you, sir, it is too late for Counselor Troi to have words with my traumatized assailant.”

Wesley strangled a laugh. “Shrev, I believe Commander Data is concerned with your feelings.”

Her wiry antennae squirmed in obvious confusion. “Indeed? I thank you for your concern, Commander, but I am not troubled, even though the man I fought was unforgivably rude.”

“He didn’t give his name when he attacked her,” Wesley told Data. Then he thought of something that had been nagging him. “That woman in the robe.”

“What about her, Wesley?” Data asked.

Wesley fought to put what he knew into words. “I’m not sure what this means, sir, but the robe looked . . . bright, like there was a light shining on it.”

“Perhaps a trick of the sunlight—” Data stopped. “No, the lighting conditions make that improbable. I will note this as another oddity. Wesley, you mentioned obtaining paper money, with the purpose of analyzing its information content. I would like to see this money.”

“Yes, sir.” Wesley was still in his civilian clothes, with the pouch belted to his waist. He opened it and gave Data the money.

The android flicked through the wad of paper in a matter of seconds. “Fascinating,” Data said. “When viewed in the ultraviolet portion of the spectrum, it would appear that numerous printing processes were employed here, using many types of ink and paper. All but one type is of low quality.”

That touched a memory from a book Wesley had read. “Counterfeiting?” he asked.

“That is the logical conclusion, Cadet,” Data said. He returned the money to Wesley.

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