This is a work of fan-fiction based on characters and situations created by Rockne S. O'Bannon for the 1990s television series, seaQuest DSV. The seaQuest DSV concept and logo are registered trademarks of Amblin Entertainment and Universal Television. I claim no rights to their intellectual or commercial property. Offered for entertainment only and in sincere tribute to their much-beloved creation.


Chapter 4


Lunch with Nathan was pleasant, but Wendy couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling she’d had about Tim. He was so filled with despair that she couldn’t help perceiving what flowed out of his aura. She also had an inkling he was hiding something and that was odd after he’d been so open the night before. But perhaps even stranger, he’d projected a clear message, with explicit words. Normal psychic impressions often translated themselves in her mind to words, but she always instinctively perceived it as translation. This was much more direct, not like sensing the unspoken end to a sentence. He’d shouted in her mind!

She couldn’t ask Tim’s permission to hypnotize him in front of the captain, so the appointment for after lunch was the best she could manage. Still, she felt badly that she hadn’t summoned the lieutenant immediately after her conversation with Father Baker. It retrospect, who would be easier to persuade had been far less important than who needed her encouragement.

“You’re distracted,” Nathan said in his matter-of-fact tone. They were both finished eating and other crew had started to filter in for lunch.

She looked at him and chuckled. “And they say I’m psychic.”

“All right, if I’m so psychic, why couldn’t I figure out what to say to O’Neill?” He curled his fingers and thumbed at the direction of the door.

“When did you have the chance? He ran out of here like we had the plague!” She had a much better idea why Tim really left, but she couldn’t tell the captain and humor was a good way to diffuse their anxiety.

“Well, I hope your planned unorthodoxy helps. I want my communications officer back once seaQuest returns to active status.”

Caution, Captain. “I think Father Baker will help, but I don’t want to set a timetable for getting Tim back to duty.”

Nathan reached across the table and patted her hand. “Fair enough. As long as he’s in good hands.”

She sighed. “And he doesn’t slip through my fingers.”

“He won’t.”

Wendy wished she shared his optimism. Or was it another of those command traits? ‘I ordered it, so of course it will happen.’ While Tim would obey any reasonable order his superiors gave, you couldn’t just order someone to forgive himself after betraying his friends.

Nathan gathered his utensils and napkin onto his empty plate. “Thanks for the company.”

She nodded and smiled. “The pleasure was mine.” Wendy knew what would be next. It was something of a ritual they followed, to help them shift mindset from personal to business and to keep things above-board for the crew.

He raised his voice as he stood. “Good afternoon, Doctor.”

“Good afternoon, Captain.”

Wendy stayed only long enough to finish the rest of her herbal tea. She greeted a few of the crew who sat close by and stood in the chow line. Sensor Chief Miguel Ortiz approached her table. “How is O’Neill, Doc? I went by Medbay, but he’s not there.”

“He’s doing better, Miguel. I have an appointment with him in…” she glanced at her watch, “fifteen minutes. I’ll tell him you asked.”

“Thanks.”

She vacated her seat for an arriving crewmember, as empty tables were now non-existent. Just as well. She wanted to check something on the computer before Tim arrived. Wendy hurried back to Medbay. Although the computer was her goal, she noticed a flashing light on her vid-link console when she entered the room. She depressed the message key. Father Baker appeared on the screen, buttoning up his uniform shirt.

“I’m taking it on faith that you cleared everything with Timothy and your captain. My clearance came sooner than expected.” He patted the crucifix that hung around his neck. “Looks like I’ve got Someone Big on my side. I’m on my way now to hop a jet copter. Should be in seaQuest’s vicinity at nineteen hundred hours. If there’s a problem, you should be able to contact me through the Ronald Reagan. Looking forward to meeting you, Doctor. Baker out.” The screen went blank except for the transmission data and the UEO emblem.

Wendy chuckled; she spoke aloud even though no one else was in the room. “On your side, indeed. That’s got to be some kind of record.”

She turned away from the vid-screen and back to her original goal: the computer. She typed in “Darwin dream” and ran a search. The computer tagged several references. The captain’s official log dutifully recorded that Nathan had shared a recurring dream about Darwin and that several others, whom he did not name, had seemingly had the same dream.

Dr. Kristin Westphalen, who was seaQuest’s chief physician at the time, recorded in her medical logs that she herself had been a recipient of the dream. Intrigued by Dr. Westphalen’s account, not to mention her charming British accent, Wendy listened to the entire entry. Dr. Westphalen had been on shore leave at Caicos Key Dolphin Research Facility, 200 miles away from Darwin and the other crew, yet there was little difference in the content of her dream. Even though she was with at least thirty other dolphins, she was convinced it was Darwin who appeared in—and sent—the dream. Back on seaQuest, she had documented at least six others had shared the same dream, but she, too, left all crew member’s names out of the record. She also cited some data that supported her theory that dolphins can somehow transmit dreams directly into human neurology.

A polite rap on the open door drew Wendy’s attention from the computer. O’Neill stood in the hatchway, looking positively miserable. She flipped a switch and stood. “Come in, Tim. I was just reviewing Dr. Westphalen’s logs concerning the dreams you all had about Darwin.”

“So you know it had nothing to do with being psychic,” he said.

She paused before answering. “Perhaps Darwin didn’t choose you because you were already psychic, but I’m not sure that this experience didn’t enhance your psi factor somehow.”

Tim shook his head. “I can’t even read a poker face.”

“We can discuss this at another time. First, we need to address your guilt.”

For a second, Wendy almost thought she saw him smirk. But his voice was as grave as the emotional cloud that hung over him. “I’m leaving seaQuest so you won’t have to worry about that any more.”

She got a strong sense of the phrase, “saddled with a burden,” which she attempted to ignore because she was trying not to read him. But the phrase angered her and she could only restrain so much of it. “Have to worry? Do you think I only care about you because it’s my job?”

“No, but—”

She interrupted, “Did you talk to the captain yet?” How stupid did it make her look to be asking for special favors for him only minutes before he tried to resign?

Tim shook his head. “I can’t face him again.”

Wendy backed up her emotions. This was all wrong. There was something he wasn’t telling her. “What are you planning?”

Tim shut the hatch. “Is this confidential?”

She didn’t like where this was going but she took confidentiality seriously. She nodded. “Of course.”

“I’m not waiting for him to accept my resignation.”

“Tim!” Quitting was one thing, but not to extend Captain Bridger the courtesy? She’d been so sure she could stop him from throwing away a career he excelled in and leaving the only friends he had. “Where would you go?”

He sighed and Wendy felt deep despair. “Military prison, probably.”

How could he assume the captain would go that far? She knew Tim respected him and didn’t view him as a tyrant. What in the world is going on? “Just promise me not to do anything before you see Father Baker.”

He blinked and his glasses magnified the effect. “He’s not taking my calls.”

“That’s because he’s in a jet copter, on his way here.”

Brows furrowed and his head shook. “Here? Why?”

The word “excommunication” was so loud in Wendy’s mind that she clamped her hands over her ears. Under her breath, she muttered, “I have to figure out how you do that so I can help you stop it.” Once she’d convinced herself that her eardrums weren’t in danger, she lowered her hands. Tim looked ready to respond to her muttering and she didn’t want to get sidetracked again. She raised her voice to normal volume. “He’s asked your permission to let me hypnotize you to help you remember what happened. He wants to absolve you of everything, including what you’ve tried to drive out of your mind.” There. It was out. Please, Tim, grab the life-line of hope.

“Father Baker is coming here, to seaQuest?”

“He’ll be here at nineteen hundred.”

“And it’s not for excommunication?”

Wendy laughed lightly, but cut it short lest he infer she was ridiculing him. “No. He’s trying to be thorough because that is what you need right now.”

Tim all but choked on a sigh of relief. Then his face changed as a new thought dawned. “Jet copter? But we’re submerged.”

Wendy shook her head, glad it was her turn to drop the surprises. “Captain Bridger is surfacing to meet him—as a personal favor.”

By the look on his face, he assumed she meant a favor to her, and though it was only marginally true, Wendy wasn’t going to take the chance that Tim would try to snub all their efforts just because he felt unworthy. Let him think what he wants. “So do I have your permission?”

His head nodded before he found his voice. “Yes.”

Wendy let relief wash over her for a second. This bought her time, but he wasn’t quite out of the woods yet. She softened her mien and beckoned him. “Why don’t you come in? Most of the medical department is on shore leave.”

“Um…I don’t…” He was obviously searching for an excuse.

“I want to talk about your psychic abilities.”

He shook his head. “I don’t have them.”

“I beg to differ, Tim. You may not be a Receiver or Empath, like me. But I have reason to believe you are a pretty strong Transmitter.” She grinned to realize how relevant these terms would be to a communications officer.

He didn’t look convinced.

“Tell me, when Darwin connects with you, how do you feel?”

He swallowed. “To be honest? Uncomfortable. When he was sick, I felt terrified. The captain and I got lost in the aqua tunnels trying to get Darwin back to the moon pool, and I thought we would both run out of air. Darwin wasn’t swimming well enough to lead us, he was so sick.”

“How about the dreams?”

“No, but…”

“But what?”

He looked down at his hands, probably embarrassed or perhaps simply cornered. “It just reinforces how much of a misfit I am. I tell Darwin things I don’t tell anyone else. I dream dolphin dreams. This isn’t exactly normal.”

“Do you think I’m abnormal?”

“No! You’re… you’re useful.”

“Do you have any idea how many people fear and scorn Receivers like me?” She shook her head. “Never mind. Let’s get back to you. I’ve had several impressions from you in the last few days and they’re not the same as what I usually perceive. Instead of feelings, I get distinct sentences—verbal messages, if you will—from you.”

“So even my mind is misfit.”

She reached out and touched his shoulder. “Not ‘misfit’, Tim. Special. I’m not saying it’s wrong or bad, just different. I’m trying to figure out why.”

“You said you pick up ‘verbal messages’ from a communications officer and that surprises you?”

“Well, the fact it was words…” She smiled. “You’re right! You live and breathe words, don’t you?”

He smirked. “In eighteen different languages.”

A laugh broke out. “Of course. That explains a lot.” She tapped her finger on the table. “Still, I’ve never received messages from any of the other communications crew, and only recently from you.”

“You might say I’ve been under a lot of ‘stress’ lately, Doctor. I’ll try to stop broadcasting.”

“You’ve been trying to broadcast?”

Tim chuckled nervously. “Just when I saw you and the captain in the mess. I was afraid you were going to ask me to join you.”

“So I gathered. Quite loudly, in fact. I don’t think you should try to quash your abilities. Just maybe learn some control.”

“How do I control something that I don’t know I’m doing?”

Wendy shook her head. “I don’t know yet. But I’d like to try something with you. It’s a general test of psychic abilities. Are you up for it?”

“Are you going to scan me?”

“No. I want you to try to scan me.”

Tim’s mouth opened and he stuttered a few disjointed syllables, but he was more surprised than unwilling.

“We need to hold hands and I am going to try to concentrate on one specific thought. See if you sense anything,” Wendy said, offering a hand.

He stared at her hand. She didn’t rush him. Exploring his psychic senses wasn’t really a high priority right now. Yes, she was intensely interested herself, but not enough to further his sense of distress. It seemed a good way to keep his mind distracted from the crushing guilt, but only if he was interested too.

Tim slipped a sweaty, cool hand into hers. She gripped it tightly, then relaxed and covered the back of his hand with her other hand. Her first task was closing off her own Reception, and that took a great deal of mental energy. She closed her eyes.

“Um… should I close my eyes too?” Tim asked nervously.

Wendy imagined him at the communications station at the bridge, listening on his headset. His fingers often pressed against the earpiece, but she couldn’t picture his eyes. “Pretend you’re listening to a signal on the bridge and having trouble making it out. Do whatever you normally do to concentrate.”

She opened one eye just a crack to watch him. He nodded quickly. Taking orders was a lot more comfortable to him than having conversations with mutual exchange. In seconds, his face became a picture of concentration. She closed her eye again and carefully chose what she wanted to send. Nothing too complicated, but something relevant to him and something she wanted him to experience like he never could just by hearing her relate it. If her theory about him being a Transmitter was true, he probably wouldn’t get anything more than the vaguest feeling of his own worth. She reviewed her chosen thought several times, like rewinding a video playback and repeating it.

“Whoa!” Tim jumped and released her hand.

Her eyes flew open and she studied him, stunned at how forcibly he’d reacted. “Tim? Are you all right? What happened?”

“I…”

She nodded encouragingly.

“I think I got my wires crossed.” He said it like he wasn’t sure he believed it himself.

She chuckled. “Your wires?”

“I was trying to listen to you, but instead, I heard the captain.”

This was surprising, but only to a small degree. “What did you feel?”

“It was more like seeing and hearing. The captain said, ‘I don’t want to lose him.’” Tim reported the exact same inflection Wendy remembered in Nathan’s voice. “I think he was pointing.”

“Your wires weren’t crossed, Tim. Captain Bridger said those exact words to me at lunch and I was hoping you could get just a feeling of how valuable you are to him.”

“I was the ‘him’?”

“Yes.”

“Wow.”

She chuckled. “I really didn’t expect you to hear him so clearly. I wanted you to feel his sincere admiration and my agreement with him, but I didn’t take into account how well you home in on words.”

“I like words,” he said with a sheepish grin.

“Is there any question but that you chose the perfect career, then?”

“You got me there,” he admitted.

“You know, I spent a good deal of my life trying to hide my abilities or even shut them down. If you want to use your psi factor, I could help you develop it. But you make valuable contributions without psychic abilities. Remember that.”

He nodded. “Thanks. I’ll think about it.”

“Why don’t you go rest a while? I’ll let you know when Father Baker is arriving so you can meet him on sea deck.”

“Thank you…Wendy.” He took a backwards step away.

He called me Wendy! She grinned. “See you later.”



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