by Peter David
I've tripped over."
She giggled slightly at that. "Well, if you
are drunk, at least you're funny about it.
Daddy sticks mostly to Synthehol when he
drinks."
"Synthehol!" sniffed Riker. "That stuff's
for infants! You'll never catch me drinking that
Ferengii garbage."
He circled his room, taking slow and steady
steps that were a bit exaggerated. Without any
preamble, he turned to Wendy and said, "She
wasn't even that good-looking!"
"Who?"
"Her! Her ... her nose was too long. And
her mouth was too wide. And ... and her
cheekbones were too high. Frankly ... she was
ugly."
"Her who?"
"Someone I knew. Or thought I knew."
He dropped down onto the edge of the bed and stared
off into space for a moment. Wendy sat next
to him, waiting for him to say something else.
"You know," he said after a time, "you get in your
head this ... this picture of the way you think things
are going to go. And they never match up. Nothing ever
turns out the way you think it's going to."
"I know how that is."
He looked at her. "You do?"
"Of course I do. Fate's always kicking you
in the teeth."
"But why me?"
"Not just you." She almost laughed at the
persecuted look on his face. "Everyone.
I've had my share of busted romances. And my
dad--well, how do you think he took it when my
mom died?"
"Not well?"
"Not well at all. He was wrecked up about
it. But just because fate kicks you in the teeth
doesn't mean you have to grin and give him more
targets. You fight back, that's all. You just
let him know that you're not going to take it. You're
just not."
"She didn't understand," said Riker bleakly.
"I thought she did, but she didn't. She can't
see anything beyond this ... this lousy little planet.
A whole galaxy of opportunity, and she's
got her head buried in the sands of
Betazed. ..."
"Not me," said Wendy firmly. "I'm not
living out my life here, you can bet on that. Not on
this overphilosophized ball of rock.
Uh-uh."
"No?"
"No. No attachments for me. No strings.
I want my freedom," Wendy said with fire in
her voice. "Another year or two here, tops.
Then I'm gone. Diplomatic corps,
maybe. An attach@e or something. Or who
knows? Maybe I'll just hitch. See the
galaxy. Grab rides on star freighters,
doing odd jobs for passage."
"No attachments."
"No strings."
He stared at her. "Has anyone told you,"
he said, feeling an extremely pleasant buzz
in his head, "how terrific you look?"
She grinned. "Not for a long time."
"And"--he paused--?has anyone done
anything about how terrific you look?"
"Not for an even longer time."
He kissed her, feeling giddy. She was warm
and supple against him. Undemanding. Yielding.
Wanting nothing more from him than he was capable of
giving.
He broke from her for a moment. "What do you
think of art?"
"Boring."
"Thank God," he said, and they sank down
onto the bed.
Lwaxana sat in her favorite chair in the
study, reading and feeling totally relaxed.
Deanna sat at a desk nearby, surrounded
by texts for various psychology courses.
"What are you studying, Little One?" Lwaxana
called to her.
Deanna did not respond.
Lwaxana turned to look at her and saw that
Deanna was staring off into space. Deanna, she
tossed into her daughter's head. Deanna looked
up, and Lwaxana continued, What are you
studying?
"Oh." Deanna looked blankly at the
texts in front of her. She held one up.
"Human dysfunctions."
"Well," Lwaxana said with a faint smile,
"we've certainly had our
up-close-and-personal study of that for today,
haven't we."
"Mother, that's not nice," said Deanna
tightly.
"You know," Lwaxana said with a thought, "you might
be able to get some genuine use out of your extended
contact with him--purely on a clinical basis.
He's a fascinating study in obsessive
behavior, don't you th--"
Deanna rose from her chair and started across the
study. "I'm going out."
Immediately Lwaxana frowned, getting up from her
chair. She didn't precisely block
Deanna's way, but Deanna was definitely
going to have to go around her. "It's late,"
Lwaxana said.
"I think I'm a little old for a curfew,
Mother."
"Maybe. But not too old to exercise common
sense. You're going to see him, and don't bother
trying to lie to me."
"It was too abrupt, Mother. X--"
Lwaxana raised a stern finger. "It was
exactly as abrupt as it needed to be. It's
what you both needed. Simply dragging things out would
have done neither of you any good. It's over. It's
finished. That's it. Now go back and study."
"Mother, I don't want to. I can't.
I--"
I don't care what you want,
Lwaxana's voice echoed sharply in
Deanna's head for emphasis. Do as I
tell you!
Deanna took a step back, a physical
reaction to the mental rebuff+. Then her eyes
narrowed, her fingers rolled up into tightly clenched
fists.
"You don't, do you," said Deanna carefully.
"You don't care what I want."
"I care about what's best for you--"
Andwith such force that it seemed as if the air
molecules crackled, Deanna hurtled a
blistering, NO YOU DON'T, MOTHER! right
at Lwaxana.
Lwaxana staggered, paling under her makeup.
"How dare you think at me that way! To imply that
I--"
"I'm not implying it, Mother! I'm saying it
outright!" For a moment Deanna felt as if her
courage were going to falter, and then she
realized that if she'd been able to face up to the
fear that had pervaded her in the jungle, then this should
be easy in comparison.
It all burst from her at once. "For years,
Mother--.for years--while you've done whatever you
wanted, wherever and whenever you wanted, you've told
me what I'm supposed to do, what I have to do.
And you keep telling me it's for me, all me.
But it's not for me, Mother! It's for you! It's
to satisfy your needs and your desires and your
decisions. You've never asked me whether I care
about any of these s-called responsibilities!
You've never cared! You just ... just assumed that I
would embrace them because they were important to you.
Well, they're not important to me, Mother!
I'm sorry!
I don't want to hold the
sacred chalice! It's all yours! Make wind
chimes of the Holy Rings for all I care!"
"Deanna--!" ^ws could not begin to express
the shock flooding through Lwaxana. "I'd have
sooner died than talk to my mother this way!"
Deanna didn't stop. She was afraid that
if she did stop, she'd never have the nerve to start
again. "I want my own priorities, Motherffwas
She thudded her fists against her own bosom for
emphasis. "I want to make my decisions!
My choices! Not yours. Not hundreds of years
worth of tradition. Mine! I'm entitled to that!
Every single thing I've done, I've done because
you've made that decision for me! So when do I
get a chance, Mother? When do I get to make
decisions about careers and opportunities and
marriages? When?"
"When you have a daughter! Just the same way that
I did!"
Deanna gaped at her mother, appalled. "I
can't believe you said that."
Lwaxana was silent.
"I cannot believe that you said that," repeated
Deanna. "Generation after generation, women not being
allowed to think for themselves ... perpetuating that
pattern, child after child ..." Deanna drew herself
up. "It stops here, Mother."
"It's that Riker," Lwaxana said angrily.
"He put these thoughts in your mind."
"No, Mother. The thoughts were always there. I just
never had the nerve to say them. And what's worst of
all is, you knew they were there. You must have known.
You knew that I was unhappy, and that didn't stop
you from doing whatever you pleased with my
life, counting on my obedience and "dutiful
daughter"' mind-set."
"I knew that when you were older, you'd understand--"
"Well, you were wrong, Mother."
Deanna walked around Lwaxana and headed for the
door. Her mother turned and called out, "You'd
take him over me!"
Deanna spun and shouted back defiantly,
"allyes!"
"You can't do this! You have studies ... duties
... a destiny!"
"I want to be with him, Mother! I was wrong
to let you intimidate me into submission again. I
was wrong to let him just walk away. We can't go
back to the way it used to be, Mother. It's not going
to happen. It would be a lie, and I won't live
a lie!"
Lwaxana placed her hands on her hips and
said sarcastically, "And what are you going to do?
Quit your studies?"
"Probably."
"Marry him?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe I'll just go
with him, be happy to be near him. When he ships
out for his next assignment, I'll try to sign
on. Some sort of job, I don't care what.
Chief cook and bottle washer--it doesn't
matter as long as we're together."
"You on a starship?" Lwaxana said,
appalled. "A beautiful, free creature like
you, cooped up in a ship for years? Millions
of light-years away from home? It's insanity!"
"I've thought about Starfleet for years. A
life of adventure, of experiencing minds and
philosophies beyond what I have here. But I never
really considered it as an option. Now, though, I
understand. There's a galaxy of possibilities out
there--even for a daughter of the Fifth House, if
she simply has the nerve to take them. And who
knows? Maybe I won't join Starfleet.
Maybe I'll go back to geology. Maybe
I'll paint myself blue and become a naked
dancing girl in the Zetli system. But whatever
I do, it will be my choice, not yours."
Deanna headed for the door, and in her head she
heard, If you go out that door, don't come
back.
Deanna went out the door.
CHAPTER 30
Deanna entered the embassy, which was quiet
since it was after hours. But she stumbled upon several
security men, whom she remembered from having met
them in the jungle at the rendezvous point.
"Evening, miss," said Sommers, no.ing
slightly.
"Hello. I'm ... I'm here to see
Lieutenant Riker."
"Yes, miss. I'm sure you are,"
Sommers said. "You know the way?"
"Oh, yes."
He waved her past and Deanna disappeared
down the hall. Sommers whistled softly to himself.
"The officers get all the women."
Deanna went straight to Riker's quarters,
her heart pounding. She had envisioned what he would
say, what he would do. He was going to be so proud
of her. The way that she had stood up to her mother, the
way that she had taken control of her life. He
would congratulate her, he would be thrilled at her
love for him, he would take her in his arms ...
She walked into his quarters and stopped dead in
her tracks.
The room was only partly lit, but she could see
Riker was lying in bed, naked. His uniform was
tossed in several places around the room. He was
asleep ... and curled around the naked form of a
woman whom Deanna immediately recognized as
Wendy Roper.
Deanna made no sound, but her mind screamed
in embarrassment and mortification.
It was more than enough to awaken Riker.
He sat up, confused and disoriented. He also
sat up much too quickly because he was solidly
hung over, andfora moment he thought his head was going
to ricochet across the room. He sputtered
uncomprehendingly ... and then he saw
Deanna, standing in the doorway, backlit by the
hall light.
It took him a moment to reach the full
realization that this wasn't a dream, or for that
matter, a nightmare. "Deanna?" he said in a
voice that sounded distant and ill.
She wanted to run shrieking down the hallway,
but there was no way that she was going to retreat in that
manner. "My apologies, Lieutenant. I
seem to have come at a bad time. Perhaps if I'd
called ahead, you might have been able
to fit me into your schedule."
Her tone made Riker's hair hurt.
"Deanna," he said again, and started forward. But his
coordination was way off and instead he crashed to the
floor.
The noise awakened the stone-cold-sober
Wendy, who sat up in confusion and looked around.
She saw Deanna, blinked in mild chagrin, and
pulled the blanket around herself.
"Deanna," Riker began again. He grabbed
at his uniform and started to pull it on.
"How nice. You have a thorough command of my
name," she said, her arms folded.
"This isn't what it seems." Then Riker
looked at Wendy, and the rumpled bed, and back
to Deanna. "All right, it is what it seems.
But I ... you said you didn't want to see me
anymore. You said we were finished and--"
"And it had been less than twenty-four hours
since you'd had female companionship, so
did you get over me, you practically vaulted
over me," Deanna said, her voice getting
louder.
Riker made shushing noises, which only
prompted her to raise her voice more. "Are you
afraid someone will hear?" she demanded.
"No," he whispered. "It's just ... my head
hurts."
"I'm sorry about your head," she said, not
sounding remotely sorry. "I won't burden it
further."
She spun on her heel and walked away.
Riker, his uniform disheveled, nevertheless ran after
her. He caught up with her halfway down the
hallway and spun her around.
"You said--" he began.
"I know what I said. And would you like to know what
I said to my mother? I told her I'd been wrong
to toss you away. That it was time for me to find my
own path. And that I wanted that path to be with you."
Hot tears welled in her eyes and she fought them
down. "But I foolishly assumed that you wanted
that as well."
"I do--"
"No, you don't. I crawled out on a limb
for you, and you chopped it off behind me."
"It wasn't like that. I wasn't thinking
straight, and Wendy showed up, and--"
"And it was an opportunity."
"Yes."
"And it didn't really mean anything."
"That's right."
"And how do I know," she said icily, "that our
time together didn't fall into the same
categories?"
He took her by the shoulders. "You know that it
didn't."
"I thought I knew that. But now I'm not
sure. And what's worse, you're not sure either.
Will ... I thought we had something special. The
physical and the spiritual. But for me, one hinges on
the other. For you, it doesn't. And I don't
think that's ever going to change for you."
Riker felt something slipping away from him,
something very important--m important than he
could have guessed--and suddenly, desperately, he
wanted to save it. "I can change," he said.
"I can--"
"Not overnight. Maybe someday, but maybe not
ever. It may be, for you, something that can only come with
maturity. I can't hinge my life on maybes.
Because you're going to go away and I have to make
decisions, and I can't base those decisions on
uncertainties."
For a moment he bristled. "You sound so damned
holier-than-thou. How do you know how it's going
to be for you? Maybe as you mature, you'll
change. Maybe you'll decide that you don't have
