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pilot’s not going anywhere,” she said with a touch of black humor. “Right now, I’m more interested in 110. Did he do anything, touch any specific button? He had to have triggered something, or else the computer would have exploded the minute he tried to interface with it.”
    â€œYou’d think so,” said Gomez, moving hesitantly to stand beside the Bynar. “And he probably did, but no one was watching.”
    â€œWhat about his own tricorder?”
    â€œHe hadn’t activated it. He never does.” She looked miserable. “Captain Gold’s reprimanded him about it before. It’s just not in the Bynar nature. Between their evolved brains and the buffer they carry with them at all times, they seem to have everything they need.”
    â€œPerhaps when they’re on Bynar, but not when they’re all the way out here,” snapped Elizabeth. It could take days to translate the information stored on 110’somnipresent buffer. But only the Bynars could figure out that gibberish. “If he’d recorded what happened in a way we could understand, we’d be a lot closer to knowing how to help him.”
    â€œThe pilot,” said Em slowly.
    Lense and Gomez turned as one to look at him. “What about the pilot?” demanded Gomez.
    Em seemed a little uncomfortable at suddenly being the center of attention. “Well,” he began, “according to your tricorder, Commander, the incident occurred as the pilot’s body was being transported out. We’ve seen that it was attached in some fashion—you used the word ‘impaled’—directly to the ship. Perhaps there were sensors that were triggered when the body was removed from the chair. The ship has to be operating on automatic commands. Maybe the removal of the pilot activated it.”
    â€œVery good, Emmett!” said Elizabeth. She was proud of the EMH’s deductive reasoning, but a little embarrassed that she hadn’t figured it out herself. A quick glance at Gomez confirmed that the other woman shared her discomfiture.
    Lense turned back to the supine figure of the Bynar. “There are first-degree burns on his hands and face,” she said. Whatever had happened to him had been bad enough to burn right through his protective gear. “Em, can you take care of those for me, please?”
    â€œCertainly, Doctor,” Em replied, and began to run the dermal regenerator over the injured flesh while Lense continued.
    â€œThere appears to be no permanent damage to the brain. If he’d been human, there might have been, but Bynar brains are set up to be able to handle bursts of computer-generated information. Their limbic system can take an awful lot, more than almost any other humanoid species could. Whatever the ship’s computer did to him seems to have caused no lasting damage. You may tell Captain Gold I expect a full recovery. One more piece of the puzzle.”
    â€œCan you awaken him? The captain will have a lot of questions.”
    Lense hesitated. “Let’s give him some time. I want him more stable before I force him into consciousness. While we’re waiting, I can begin the examination of the pilot.” She nodded her curly, dark head in the pilot’s direction. “She should have a great deal to tell me about her race, if not necessarily her ship.”
    Gomez lingered, looking anxiously at the still Bynar. “Sonya,” said Lense gently, “I’ll let you know the minute we learn anything.”
    Gomez nodded her head, knowing a cue when she heard one. “Thanks, Doctor.” She turned and exited, running smack into Duffy.
    â€œSorry!” Gomez said.
    â€œNo, it’s my fault. Wasn’t watching where I was going.”
    Lense looked at the two of them. It wasn’t a secret they had once been involved. And, judging by their awkwardnessaround each other when they weren’t in the midst of a