The Fredösphere

Star Trek:  The Next Generation
Episode 137:  Chain of Command, Part II

Captain Picard has been captured by the enemy. They have tried two direct attempts, truth serums and offering reduced punishment for cooperation.

The torture room:  Picard is still in the same position. His head slumps onto his chest occasionally as he cannot fight sleep.  Behind him, the door opens.  As they enter the room, the guards remove Picard from the bar on the ceiling and put the robe on him.

PICARD
I have told you what I know.

MADRED
I'm sure you have.

Madred gestures toward the ceiling.

MADRED
How many lights do you see there?

PICARD
(guarded) I see four lights.

Madred lifts his eyebrows... rises... and walks toward the fixture.

MADRED
Strange... I see five.  Are you quite sure?

PICARD
I see four lights.  But I could be wrong.  Four or five:  why should we argue about it?  If you say five, then okay, there are five.

MADRED
There are five lights.... (confused) Ah yes, as you admit, five.

PICARD
And they taste like lime sherbet.

MADRED
Perhaps you're aware of the incision ... what?

PICARD
The lights taste like sherbet.

Beat.

PICARD
Lime sherbet.

MADRED
They taste...?  You must be hallucinating.  Perhaps you're aware of the incision on your chest.  While you were under the influence of our drugs, you were implanted with a small device. It is a remarkable invention.  By entering commands in this PADD, I can produce pain in any part of your body... at various levels of severity.  (Looks at Picard with genuine apology.)  Forgive me... I don't enjoy this, but I must demonstrate. It will make everything much clearer.  Most people feel at first that they can steel themselves against it... but they are completely unprepared for the intensity of the pain. This will be the lowest possible setting. 

He looks down at the PADD. Picard steels himself, trying to prepare for what is coming. Madred taps a command.  Picard smiles gently.

PICARD
B flat minor.

MADRED
You felt no pain?

PICARD
It smelled like B flat minor.

MADRED
B flat minor?

PICARD
It's a name we humans give to a particular musical chord.

MADRED
Yes, I know.  You said it ... smelled ...?

PICARD
It smelled like B flat minor.

MADRED
This stupid machine!  Here, let me reverse the polarity.  Try this!

Madred taps another command.

PICARD
That time I heard mauve.

MADRED
You... ah ... (confused, then angry) I asked you ... how many lights do you see there?

PICARD
There are four...

Madred looks hopeful...

PICARD
... to five lights.  That taste like lime sherbet.

Madred's fingers enter commands. There is a cry of surprise from Picard.

PICARD
I feel loud!  I see cold!  Beethoven tastes redder than Mozart!

MADRED
Aaaaaah!  I give up!  Guards:  take this  ... this freak away!

Still holding Madred's look, Picard rises... starts to lose his balance but holds on... takes deep breaths of air... straightens himself, and walks close to Madred.

PICARD
The.  Lights.  Taste.  Like.  Lime.  Sherbet!

Madred stares at him briefly, and then, the slightest possible nod and smile -- in deference to a man he has come to admire.  Picard turns and walks out of the room, refusing help from the guards.

THE END