Today's Special

by Darrel W. Beach
May, 1997


Chapter 2

	The officers left the mess hall feeling energized.  Everything 
around them appeared more vibrant and colourful.  Life was good; things 
were finally starting to turn for the better on this little lost vessel.  
Gone were the territorial Kazon and the Vidiian forayers.  Behind them were 
the arrogant and pretentious Voth.  And now Neelix had produced a truly 
appreciable meal , which was something everybody had to know about.  Word 
about Neelix's lunch was passed on to every person encountered in the 
passageways between the mess hall and their destinations.  Work resumed 
with a new vigour.
	Tom Paris practically bounced in his seat for four solid hours, 
checking sensors, plotting course corrections with enthusiasm, and 
responding to orders in a bright cheerful manner.  His behaviour certainly 
was not lost on Captain Janeway.  She wondered what could have been 
responsible for the pilot's zealousness.
	Her opportunity to question him came at the end of the shift.  She 
followed him into the turbolift.  "Well, Mr. Paris, you've certainly been 
full of spit and vinegar this afternoon."  If she didn't know any better, 
she'd sworn that he was startled, as if he hadn't noticed her presence in 
the lift before now.
	"I suppose you could say that."  His hands fidgeted.  "I guess 
Neelix's lunch had plenty of vitamins in it today.  I felt quite 
invigorated by it."
	"Really?" Janeway remarked.  "I've heard a few others talk about it 
as well.  It must have been one heck of a lunch."
	Tom seemed to light up like a filament.  "Oh, you really missed 
something fantastic, captain!  I mean, this Sorbosian gumbo is like nothing 
you've ever had before.  I don't know how he did it, but Neelix finally 
came up with something good.  You have to try it."
	The captain was intrigued by the lieutenant's accolades; Tom Paris 
wasn't exactly the biggest fan of Neelix's cooking.  If he gave the 
Talaxian's food a good review, then it had to be *really* good.  She'd have 
to find out if Neelix had any leftover Sorbosian gumbo to sample.

	"I'm terribly sorry, captain, the gumbo was really popular this 
afternoon."  The Talaxian was insufferably apologetic over not anticipating 
this occurrence.  "However, I think you'd enjoy the Tyssic ghoti just as 
much.  If you'll allow me...."  He sliced off a corner and dipped it into a 
thin wine-coloured sauce, and handed the fork to Janeway.
	Her eyes widened with surprise as she processed the morsel.  "This 
is marvellous!"
	"The secret's in the Havian red sauce.  I substituted ground 
powdered garvola herb for the Cazzian dill.  I never thought the Cazzian 
dill was right for that sauce anyway."
	"Well, it looks like your intuition paid off, Neelix," she 
complimented, sopping up a bit of the sauce with a pinkie finger and 
licking it clean.  "It really is extraordinary."
	As the captain left the counter with her tray, B'Elanna Torres 
entered the room with Lt. Carey in tow.  B'Elanna appeared slightly edgy; 
Carey looked haggard.
	"I can't believe how hungry I am.  I wonder if Neelix has any of 
that gumbo left?" the half-Klingon questioned.
	Carey sniffed the air, catching the aroma of the Havian red sauce.  
"Well, whatever he's cooking, it sure smells good.  Ah, for the love of God 
-" He pressed his hand up against his temple.
	 She turned to face Carey. "Carey, what's wrong?  You look 
terrible."
	"Ah, I've got a slight headache.  Probably just stress, trying too 
hard to figure out how to increase the efficiency of the shield generators 
with a minimal impact on power consumption.  I'll probably feel better once 
I get something to eat."
	She frowned with concern.  "Well, perhaps you should visit the 
doctor later anyway."
	"I said I'll be fine." he argued, a bit more emphatically.
	The chief engineer started.  "Okay, fine, whatever."
	In the meantime, Captain Janeway decided to dine in the company of 
Tuvok.  It had been a while since she last visited with her good dear 
friend.  "Hello, Tuvok.  Mind if I join you?"
	Tuvok nodded and indicated a spot facing him.  "By all means, 
captain."
	"Thank you."  She made herself comfortable and spread out the 
dishes on her tray.  "So, Tuvok, what have you been up to lately?"
	"I have been engaged in many.  Currently I am attempting to 
cross-pollinate Vulcan orchids with Fennellite fire-dancers, which is 
proving to be quite a challenge."
	"That's sounds fascinating.  I'd love to see them when you're done."
	"Certainly, captain.  I would be honoured to show them to you."
	Janeway savoured another morsel of the Tyssic ghoti.  "I still 
can't get over how wonderful this tastes.  Have you tried it yet, Tuvok?"
	"Indeed I have," the Vulcan answered.  "I must admit, the 
sensations it produces is rather remarkable."

	Thus was the scenario at many tables that evening; the dramatic 
change in opinion over Neelix's cooking was a hot topic of conversation as 
people summarily cleaned up every last scrap of food in the galley.  
Everyone seemed to leave on an endorphin high, none more so than Neelix 
himself.  He trotted off to the airponics bay in phenomenally good spirits 
to gather more of the garvola plant.  With the herb as popular as it was, 
he had a lot of preparation ahead of him to make sure he didn't run out as 
quickly as he had today.
	However, unlike Neelix, a lot of people were having a great of 
difficulty getting a good night's sleep at 2200 hours.  In many a cabin 
people were suffering from restlessness and headaches - what you might 
expect when ingesting caffeine before going to bed.  When the next morning 
arrived, there were a lot of irritable, hungry crewmen stumbling their way 
to breakfast.
	"Harry," groaned Lt. Paris.  "I'd say 'good morning' but I'm having 
trouble finding what's good about it."
	"I know what you mean - you look about as good as I feel.  You have 
trouble getting to sleep too?"
	"Are you kidding?  I slept like a baby," he retorted.  "Of course, 
you know how babies sleep - they wake up every two hours screaming."
	"You must not be feeling that bad after all, if you can still make 
jokes," the ensign shot back.
	The turbolift doors popped open and they piled in.  B'Elanna Torres 
was leaning against the wall, appearing in a similar condition to the rest 
of the passengers.
	"Gee, looks like we weren't the only ones to lose our fight with 
the sandman last night," Tom observed.
	"Shut up, Paris," she grumbled.  "I'm in no mood for your 
bantering.  My head hurts, I can't see clearly, and I feel like I'm going 
to die of hunger."
	Tom remained silent for the remainder of the trip and clutched his 
stomach.  Her remark made him contemplate how hollow he himself felt.  He 
never felt this hungry in the morning.
	As they poured out into the corridor on Deck 2 the morning aromas 
greeted them.  Just the smell of the food seemed to perk them up.  "Mmm, 
that smells good," Harry commented.
	There were a greater number of people in the mess hall than usual 
at this time of the morning, which was a bit unusual  There was also a 
considerable line-up of people - Tom noted - looking in a familiar state of 
disrepair.  It was enough to get his attention.
	"So, what have you got for us this morning, Neelix?" Torres asked 
when they reached the head of the line.
	"Just your traditional breakfast this morning, lieutenant: 
scrambled eggs, Pellian sausage and toast.  Enjoy!" the Talaxian cheered, 
handing her a plate.
	The three found a table after a moment of searching and sat down to 
eat.  Tom scooped up an amount of the eggs and popped it into his mouth.  
His brows creased with uncertainty as he chewed; there was a certain 
bitterness that he thought he was familiar to him, but he couldn't place 
it.  At any rate, he was already feeling much better than he had a minute 
ago; his headache slowly ebbed away and he felt refreshed and alert.
	Harry noticed the quizzical expression.  "Something wrong with your 
breakfast, Tom?"  He sounded and looked stronger than before as well.
	"I don't know," he said after a moment's pause.  "Do your eggs 
taste kind of funny to you?"
	Ensign Kim gave him an odd look and tried another bite of the eggs. 
 "No, not really."
	"They seem okay to me," Torres added.  "You know, I think my 
headache's going away."
	Tom shrugged it off and continued eating, but the flavour still 
nagged at him.  When they had finished, he'd made up his mind.  "You two go 
on ahead, I have something to take care of first."  He broke off and 
strolled back up to the galley window, where Neelix was still serving 
breakfast.  "Hey, Neelix, exactly what kind of eggs did you use to make 
breakfast.  I thought they tasted familiar."
	"They should be familiar," he answered, slightly confounded by the 
question.  "They're Jibbalian eggs.  I use them all the time."
	*Jibbalian eggs!  That's why they seemed so familiar* Tom clued in. 
 *But I usually can't eat them unless I smother them with ketchup, yet 
today I didn't use any condiments.*  "If I may ask, Neelix, how did you 
make them today?"
	Neelix grinned sheepishly and delivered a surrendering gesture.  
"Okay, you found me out.  I seasoned the eggs with some garvola.  Everyone 
seems to like it so much, I thought it wouldn't hurt.  I didn't hear anyone 
complaining about the eggs - until you, that is."
	Tom looked surprised.  "What?  Neelix - no, I'm not complaining.  I 
was just curious."  But now his suspicions were raised.  *Could it be a 
coincidence, how Harry, B'Elanna and I all feel like hell one minute and 
the cat's meow the next after eating Neelix's breakfast?  I'd better keep 
watch on this.  Something just doesn't sit right in my gut, and it's more 
than the eggs.*

	He could feel the hum of electricity across the surface of his 
skin, that fuzzy warm feeling tickling at the edges of his awareness.  
Somehow he managed to keep it from overtaking him completely, concentrating 
his efforts on his vigil of the rest of the bridge crew.  One thing was for 
certain, though: he didn't like what he was seeing, not one bit.
	Throughout the course of the morning, it was evident that a large 
majority of the bridge was behaving abnormally.  The captain, when she 
wasn't pacing around the bridge pestering the other officers sat in her 
chair wringing her hands constantly or chatted up the quality of Neelix's 
meals in her hushed conversations with Chakotay.  Harry, like many other 
officers on the bridge, fussed at his station with even more enthusiasm 
than normal, seemingly oblivious to other things around him.  It was harder 
to tell if Chakotay and Tuvok were affected or if their normally calm 
collected behaviours suppressed the overt mannerisms - the only sign that 
might indicate that Tuvok was affected was the facial tick that he 
occasionally observed.
	Everything reminded him of the Addies back at the penal colony - or 
rather, it was the stories he remembered most more than anything, as he 
hadn't actually become closely acquainted with them.  Addies were inmates 
who had become dependent on stimulant drugs to remain physically 
functional.  Their dependencies became crucial to the point that they would 
commit crimes to satisfy their cravings.  They would be sent to the minimal 
security penal colonies to be treated, but the stories were that the 
inmates never fully overcame the effects of their habits, by no fault of 
the rehabilitation staff; even with current medical technology, some drug 
dependencies still couldn't be completely eradicated.  Addies would slink 
around the compound exhibiting trace withdrawal symptoms such as muscle 
tremors, gauntness and loss of appetite, or inflamed nasal passages.  He 
could recall a time during lunch when he sat by some scrawny guy who kept 
rubbing his nose and snuffling constantly.  While at the time he thought 
the guy just didn't know how to use a handkerchief, it might have possible 
that he was an Addie.
	It was quite possible that the crew was being affected by this 
garvola as some kind of stimulant.  He didn't have any advanced medical 
training to make that discernment, but he was aware that some plants and 
herbs could be used for medicinal purposes.  It stood to reason that if 
synthetic drugs administered incorrectly could cause deleterious reactions 
in patients, these plants could produce similar reactions.	Sometime 
between 1100 and 1130 hours Tom began to notice a decline in mood on the 
bridge.  People became more subdued in behaviour - less cheerful, sluggish, 
tired and stressed.  He also became aware of his own emotional state 
dropping, along with the reoccurrence of physiological symptoms: headaches, 
blurred vision, jittery hands.  It couldn't be just a coincidence - and it 
was definitely something of which the captain should be made aware.  
"Captain, request permission to speak to you in private."
	"Hm?  Oh, certainly, lieutenant.  You have the bridge, commander," 
she replied sullenly, escorting the pilot to her stateroom.  He could see 
how her stiff professional manner had already been eroded; it made him 
worry about every member on board and the situation they were all faced 
with.
	Janeway slid lazily into the chair behind her desk.  "Okay, Tom, 
what did you want to talk to me about?"
	"Captain, I've noticed some odd behaviour from some of the other 
officers, including most of the bridge staff.  Since the start of my shift, 
people have gone from acting animated and obsessive to ill and defunct in a 
matter of hours.  I'm concerned that Neelix's cooking may be involved in 
some way to these behaviours."
	"I find that hard to believe, lieutenant," she countered.  "We've 
been eating Neelix's concoctions for almost three years now and we haven't 
had any seriously adverse reactions to it."
	"Sorry, I didn't mean it quite that way, captain.  It's only been 
occurring in the last day or two, since Neelix started putting garvola into 
everything he makes."
	Janeway continued to fight his reasoning.  "Even if I did consider 
that a possibility, we check all of our food supplies to make sure they're 
safe to eat.  Our scans would tell us if anything we collect is poisonous 
or harmful to our systems."
	"Well, maybe our scans weren't specific enough to identify the 
problem or we simply aren't scanning for the right things.  All I know is 
that people are acting strange, including myself and you, captain."
	"Me?" she sounded genuinely surprised.
	Tom leaned further into the desk.  "Captain, I saw how wired you 
were earlier this morning, and now you look like you could use a nap or a 
couple of aspirin."
	Janeway smiled crookedly at the controller.  "I look tired, Mr. 
Paris, because I stayed up all last night to catch up on my paperwork.  I 
admit I shouldn't neglect that part of my duties as a Starfleet captain so 
frequently, even if I do detest it.  To keep myself awake I had Neelix brew 
up some extra-strong coffee, which would probably then explain why I was so 
wired this morning.  What you think you're perceiving as a problem is 
probably just a coincidence."
	Tom had to insist.  "But, captain, it's not -"
	"Tom, as far as I'm concerned this discussion is closed.  I thank 
you for sharing your opinion but I really think you're looking for trouble 
that doesn't exist.  I am well aware of the tenuous relationship you have 
with Neelix regarding his cooking ability - believe me, you're not the only 
one.  But he has improved over the last several months.  It's time you 
adjusted to it because, frankly, we might have live with it for a long time 
yet.  Now, since we're on the subject of food, I think it's about time for 
lunch - I'm really hungry all of a sudden."
	The growling in the pit of his stomach made Tom aware of how hungry 
he was as well.  Somehow, though, he didn't have much of an appetite.