The things one learns ...

[T'aral 0]

Doctor Leene bent over T'Aral's shoulder, examining the contents of the screen before her. T'Aral turned to him, glaring slightly. "It is customary practice to be invited to a consultation, rather than simply imposing yourself onto a case."

 

"Oh come now, Doctor - every physician appreciates having someone to discuss matters with." Leene pulled a chair next to T'Aral and flopped into it. "By the way - your review of my paper was surprisingly charitable. We aren't growing soft, are we?"

 

T'Aral's eyes never left the screen. "Don't be insulting, Doctor. I have always indicated that I consider your work to be complete at its own level. You simply don't go far enough in your research."

 

Leene's eyebrows bushed upwards. "Why Doctor T'Aral - are you suggesting that you would actually use my techniques, given the opportunity?"

 

"I would, if I had the personnel and facilities to maintain an extensive zoological garden on board a combat vessel. That is why I wish you would study the mechanisms behind your techniques. If we had a better understanding of why your experiments work the way they do, we could simulate them synthetically - which would be far more effective in the limited space of a starship."

 

Leene leaned back heavily, basking in what he perceived of as glowing praise. Looking back at the terminal, he frowned slightly. "So ... a concussion is it? Bad; especially since she seems to have rather a tumultuous record."

 

T'Aral nodded. "The latest of many, and most treated with extended rest periods." She considered the matter deeply.

 

Leene took little notice. "So - time for accupressure therapy, I suppose?"

 

She turned to discuss the matter directly. "Among Vulcans there would be no question. However, the Captain's arrival will not be for several days."

 

Leene's expression became curious. "That matters? I thought accupressure techniques were effective after several years?"

 

T'Aral nodded. "That is true: but if the therapy isn't applied immediately there are consequences. It is the nature of the brain to adapt to neural dysplasia as quickly as possible. As time passes the dysplasia becomes the norm, and realigning the neural pathways to their original stable state becomes difficult. Sessions become increasingly ... invasive."

 

The Denobulan nodded. "So - no fixing the past?"

 

"Correct: however, I should be able to correct the Captain's most recent incident without probing too deeply. It would be beneficial, however, to learn how deep a probe can go without intruding ..."

 

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T'Aral gestured to the orderly. "Thank you for volunteering, Mr. Wilkins. Please be at ease."

The young man looked about nervously. "Anything I can do to help ... only, this isn't going to hurt, is it?"

 

She rested a gentle hand on his shoulder. "There will only be the sensation of my fingers along your head and neck. Please try to relax and clear your mind." T'Aral's initial gestures went along the orderly's neck - then upwards along the spine. She easily traced the stem structure, locating and lightly stimulating the choroid plexus. The response was encouraging, as was the general response of his vascular system in assimilating the generated cerebrospinal fluid. The technique meant that regenerating and refreshing the fluid media would be a straightforward process.

 

Moving along to an examination of the cortex structure, however, quickly indicated problems with the technique. In addition to confirming that Mr. Wilkins cortex was healthy and stable, she also learned that he was quite at ease with her - seeing her as a gentle, almost motherly figure that he was going to miss terribly once she had to ship out.

 

Releasing contact, T'Aral sighed. "Mister Wilkins - you do appreciate the nature of a neuropressure examination?"

 

"Yes ma'am."

 

"So you understand that it is possible for me to sense what you are thinking about?"

 

Wilkins gulped. "Yes ma'am."

 

T'Aral nodded. "It is quite all right; however, I would prefer if you would refrain from including me in your thoughts. I am not offended, but it does become distracting." The orderly nodded, and T'Aral began again. However, she had barely gotten a sense of his cortex structure when a new image came to her: the orderly, his wife on a beach ... a picnic ...

 

She broke contact again. "Mister Wilkins: it is vital that you clear your mind. I am attempting to perform an examination without intruding on your thoughts and memories. Your co-operation is critical ... I do not wish to learn anything personal or embarrassing."

 

The orderly nodded again, but T'Aral barely began again before her mind was flooded with intense images: a luxury cruise ... a Roman centurion ... a British constable ... azure and satin. Breaking contact again, T'Aral shuddered and backed away, clutching her hands together to keep them from shaking.

 

"Sorry ... sorry ..." The orderly flushed a brilliant crimson. "I ... really didn't mean for that to happen."

 

T'Aral raised a hand. "It is I who need to apologize. You are risking your privacy for the sake of my research. It is appreciated - though that does not sanction what I am doing." She paused, thinking back on what had transpired and examining every action taken. She then looked up. "I must continue, but for my sake I must beg you - whatever you do, do not think of a cross-eyed cat. I find them - disturbing." Mr. Wilkins nodded, and T'Aral proceeded one last time.

 

Within the orderly's mind came the image: a siamese, it's bright blue eyes staring squarely at its nose ...

 

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T'Aral accepted a steaming cup of tea from Doctor Leene. The Denobulan smiled. "So - did you learn what you needed to?"

 

She nodded in reply. "... and a great deal more." She sipped the hot liquid, allowing the warmth to ease her. "I know now how to proceed. Be sure to thank Mr. Wilkins; his bravery will protect both myself and my patients."