Star Trek: The Next Generation - 119 - Armageddon's Arrow by Dayton Ward Page B

myself.”
    “Perhaps we can arrange an internship of sorts.” Picard offered a small, sly grin. “I’m sure Mister Worf can find a suitable place for a man of your many talents. For the moment, though, we need you here.”
    He divided his attention between Casmir and the handful of children who were visible in the center’s main room. The oldest looked to be about the same age as his own son, with the others perhaps younger by a year or so at most. None of the three infants belonging to members of his crew was present, and Picard knew that any of the babies placed in the center’s charge would be sequestered in a separate room with their own caregiver. Of the children Picard could see, they appeared occupied with books, games, padds, or other activities that—for the moment, at least—had harnessed their attention. For however long it lasted, the childcare center was an oasis of peace and quiet.
    “How did they react to our earlier bit of trouble?” he asked.
    “Surprisingly well, actually,” replied the Argelian. “Children are amazingly resilient, Captain. We as adults and parents tend to be too zealous to protect them, and we often underestimate their ability to respond and adapt to new situations, even those that might be stressful or frightening. They were alarmed for a few moments, of course, but as you can see they’ve returned to their normal routine. We can learn a lot from our children, you know.”
    “I do, indeed,” Picard said. With a small sigh, he shook his head. “I don’t know how you manage to do it.”
    Casmir asked, “Do what?” Noting where the captain was looking, the Argelian added, “Years of practice, Captain. Argelians often tend toward large families, and I was one of the older children in my family. I learned at an early age how to help my parents look after my younger siblings.” He gestured toward the kids he now oversaw. “Compared to my brothers and sisters, these children are . . . what do humans call them? Angels.”
    The remark drew a light chuckle from Picard. “Regardless, you’ve done a remarkable job here, for which I’m grateful.” Recalling something he had read in one of the department reports routed to him by Commander Worf, he said, “I saw your request to schedule more holodeck time for the children.”
    “Yes,” Casmir said. “I’ve been working with some of the science departments to expand the curriculum in geology, astronomy, stellar cartography, and so on. We can simulate different planetary environments, and program virtual tours of star systems and other spatial phenomena.”
    “I’ve already asked Commander Worf to look into it,” Picard said, “but I’m sure we can make arrangements. René in particular might enjoy the astronomy material.” The captain had been intrigued by the proposal from the first time he had read Casmir’s report. He remembered the countless nights he had spent sitting under one of the trees on the family vineyards in France, staring up at the night sky for hours, making do with a telescope and his own eyes as he imagined traveling among the stars. Holodeck technology could be brought to bear to provide his son and the other Enterprise children with all manner of breathtaking interactive simulations that would rival even his own fevered childhood imagination. “And if you decide to add any courses on archeology,” Picard added, “I might be interested in participating with him, as well.”
    Smiling, the Argelian nodded. “As a matter of fact, I’ve been considering such a course, and you were the first person I thought of. I’m well aware of your fondness for the subject. Perhaps you might consider offering the children your own insights?”
    “Me? Teach the children?” Picard asked.
    Casmir’s eyes narrowed. “You’re a natural mentor, Captain. They look up to you. Having you along for one of their classes would be a tremendous treat for them.”
    “Doctor Crusher put you up to this, didn’t