Star Trek-TNG-Novel-Imzadi 1

by Peter David

for him. "I am aware of something, Admiral,

  that--if you take it in the proper frame

  of mind--might serve to put much of your long-standing

  frustration to rest."

  "Really?" Riker was more amused than anything

  else. "And what precisely do you know,

  Data?"

  Data paused, and his next ^ws were the last that

  Riker could possibly have expected.

  "What would you say, Admiral, if I informed

  you that ... somewhere ... Deanna Troi is

  still alive."

  The statement hung there for a moment, untouched.

  And then, to Data's surprise, Riker actually

  smiled again. "Data, you're turning

  philosopher on me."

  "I am, sir?"

  "You're about to tell me that Deanna lives

  on in our hearts and minds and memories, right?"

  "No, sir. She lives on in an

  alternative time line."

  Riker's smile was frozen, but the rest of his

  expression was an utter blank. Finally he said,

  "Data, what in hell are you talking about?"

  Data sat down across from Riker, endeavoring

  to select the method of explanation that would be

  simplest for Riker to follow.

  "Our stop right before Betazed," began Data,

  "was at the world of the Guardian of Forever. You're

  familiar with it?"

  "Of course," said Riker impatiently.

  "In the course of my visit there, the

  scientists showed me a temporal irregularity

  they have discovered. These irregularities are known,

  interchangeably, as alternative time lines or

  even parallel universes. There have been several

  encountered in Federation history. For example, the

  alternative universe and/or time line wherein the

  Klingons and Federation remained at war, from which

  Tasha Yar crossed over and eventually became the

  mother of Sela. Then there was the alternative

  universe and/or time line which James Kirk and

  several of his command crew encountered that was a

  "mirror"' representation of our--"

  "I know all that! Dammit, Data, what

  does any of this have to do with Deanna?"

  "It has to do, sir, with how these alternative

  universes and/or time lines--"

  "Stop saying it that way! It's getting on my

  nerves! Pick a term and stick with it!"

  Data blinked. Riker was showing more fire and

  anger in the past five minutes than he

  conceivably had all during the past five years.

  "It has to do," Data began again, "with how these

  time streams ...?" He paused on the last ^w,

  adding a slight interrogative to his intonation

  to see whether or not Riker approved of the

  terminology. The admiral nodded and gestured for

  him to continue. "It has to do with how these time streams

  are begun. No one knows how many there are; perhaps

  an infinite number. But apparently they key off

  of significant moments in time. Focal

  points was the term that then-science officer Spock

  coined, I believe. James Kirk's Edith

  Keeler, who inadvertently lived when she was

  supposed to have died, represented one such focal

  point. The constant surveying of the events that the

  Guardian displays will sometimes reveal one of these

  offshoots."

  Riker swallowed hard. "And they've ...

  they've found one involving Deanna?"

  "That's correct, sir. Curiously, it

  revolves around the moment of Deanna Troi's

  death at the Sindareen peace conference. In the

  alternative time stream, Counselor Troi in

  fact did not die."

  "How did she survive?" Riker's voice

  was barely above a whisper.

  "They have been unable to make that determination.

  What they have discovered, however, is that the

  counselor was present at the peace conference ...

  and her empathic abilities were able to discern that the

  Sindareen were lying about their peaceful intentions.

  Once she uncovered their duplicity, it was quickly

  learned that the entire peace conference was a scheme

  to use Federation resources to rebuild so that they

  could, years down the line, launch new and

  devastating forays against the Federation."

  "Which they wound up doing."

  "Yes, sir, in our time stream--the

  "correct"' one, for want of a better term.

  In our time stream, the Sindareen are a powerful and

  formidable people. In the alternative time stream,

  however, the Federation refused the peace

  initiative, pulled out, and the Sindareen economy

  eventually fell apart completely. At that point,

  the Federation then stepped in with restoration efforts, but

  under far more controlled and less trusting

  circumstances. The Sindareen were able to rebuild,

  but were a far more docile and chastened race."

  "And Deanna lived." Riker looked

  to Data, his eyes sparking like flint

  struck together. "She lived."

  "Yes, sir. So you see, Admiral ... you

  can take heart. Although the counselor's death was

  an unfortunate and tragic thing, there is a

  "cosmic justice"' of sorts ... a sense of

  balance. For in an alternative time stream,

  Deanna Troi lived and accomplished great

  things."

  Riker was silent for a long moment ... and then

  he seemed to be muttering to himself. Whispering. His

  voice was a low and gentle singsong, and it sounded as

  if he were trying to reason something out.

  "Admiral?"

  Riker started to get to his feet and put a hand

  out to Data. The android assumed that Riker needed

  his help getting up and so lent him support. But

  then Riker's hand closed on Data's shoulder

  with a fierceness that might have been appropriate to a

  man less than half his age, and he whirled

  Data around, galvanized by inner fires.

  "Turn the ship around," Riker said hoarsely.

  "Admiral?"

  "You heard me. Bring us back to Betazed.

  Fastest possible speed."

  "Sir, I'd like to be as accommodating as

  possible, but I don't understand why--"

  With a red-hot fury, and a voice like iron

  pounded on a forge, Riker shouted, "Turn the

  goddamn ship around, Data! That's a direct

  order from a superior officer. Do it now,

  or so help me, I'll have you relieved of

  command and I'll steer us back there myself!"

  CHAPTER 35

  It took a day to get all the clearances from the

  Betazed government. But Data did it as quickly

  as he could because he was of the firm conviction that if he

  didn't get an official release for the body of

  Deanna Troi, then Admiral Riker might

  very likely go down and bring the body back himself.

  In the current state that he was in, he was

  probably single-minded enough to haul the corpse

  onto his back and find a way to carry it

  piggyback to the Enterprise.

  Riker had lapsed into silence, but that silence was

  hardly benign. He fairly radiated

&
nbsp; urgency, bordering on controlled desperation. He

  stood there and watched as Deanna's body, still in

  its encasement, materialized on the

  cargo transporter. It floated on small,

  controlled waves of antigravity emanating from

  floater units that had been attached.

  Data, Blair, and Chief Medical

  Officer Hauman, along with two medtechs, were

  all waiting there for it when it arrived. Hauman,

  tall and gangly with thick brown hair, looked

  at his commanding officer questioningly. "Sir, am I

  understanding this correctly? You want me to run an

  autopsy on a four-decade-old body?"

  "That is the plan," Data said with as close

  to a sigh as he was capable of producing.

  Riker put up a hand. "Hold it," he said

  as the medtechs came around to move the encasement.

  "Hauman ... run a tricorder scan.

  Look for life signs."

  Hauman stared at Riker, then at Data, and

  then back at Riker. "Are you expecting me

  to find any, sir?"

  Riker looked at him coldly. "I'm

  expecting you to follow my order."

  Hauman did as he was told, passing the

  small unit over Deanna's body. "Nothing.

  Not so much as a blip. I'm sorry,

  Admiral, but this is a forty-year-old corpse.

  Nothing more."

  "It's something more than that, Doctor," said

  Riker. "It's a hope in hell. Now get her

  ... get it ... down to sickbay."

  "What am I looking for, if I might

  ask."

  "Cause of death."

  "Sir, wouldn't that be in the autopsy performed

  at the time of the death?"

  "Yes, it would," said Riker, sounding amazingly

  reasonable. "So what I want you to do is pull

  that autopsy from the records."

  "And then?"

  "And then," said Riker, "look for something that

  isn't there."

  While the autopsy was performed, Riker stayed

  in his quarters. He had an inkling of what

  autopsies used to be like, back in the

  primitive days of surgical knives and

  catguts. Cutting up the body, studying each

  of the organs, searching through and running tests while

  a nauseating stench filled the air.

  Deanna's body would not be cut or harmed.

  A battery of tests would be run without

  mussing a hair on her head. Nevertheless, Riker

  couldn't find it within himself to stand there while

  Deanna's body was treated like a large slab of

  meat ... no matter how comparatively

  delicate that treatment might be. He'd gone

  through it once. Twice would be unendurable.

  He stared down at Betazed, which turned under them

  in leisurely fashion. Imzadi, he

  whispered to someone who had not been able to respond for

  nearly two generations. Imzadi ... tell

  me I'm not losing my mind.

  There was a buzz at his door and he said

  urgently, "Come in."

  Data entered with Dr. Hauman at his side.

  Data's face was, as always, unreadable. But

  Riker could immediately tell from Hauman's

  expression that something had happened. Something had

  occurred that had surprised the good doctor. That

  alone was enough to give Riker hope. "Well?" he

  demanded, waggling his fingers impatiently. "Tell

  me."

  "It's, um ..." Hauman looked

  uncomfortable. "It's ... extremely

  puzzling."

  "What is?"

  "It would appear, Admiral," Data said,

  "that we have something of a paradox on our hands."

  "Oh, really. Explain it to me, if you'd be

  so kind. No ... better still ... I'll

  explain it to you."

  Riker rose from his chair and faced Hauman.

  "You found," he said slowly, "traces of something

  that didn't exist at the time of Deanna's

  death."

  "That's ... that's correct, sir," said

  Hauman. Not only did he feel foolish that

  his previously expressed doubts over the point

  of this exercise were now without foundation, but he felt

  even dumber over the fact that Riker was

  apparently one step ahead of him. "We found

  minute traces of Raxatocin ... so minute that

  the medical equipment of the time would not have been able

  to detect it. It wouldn't have even shown up as an

  unknown substance."

  "Raxatocin," said Riker slowly. "That's a

  poison, isn't it?"

  "Yes, sir. It ... well, it causes

  precisely the types of symptoms that killed

  Counselor Troi. Massive circulatory

  collapse. It was developed thirteen

  years ago, and as recently as five years ago

  it was still undetectable."

  "How is the poison transmitted?"

  "Any number of ways. Injection. It can be

  ingested. In sufficient concentration, it can even be

  inhaled."

  "All right." Riker took a deep breath.

  "Has Deanna's body been returned to the

  proper authorities?"

  "Yes, sir," said Data.

  "Good. Okay, Mr. Data." Riker

  clapped his hands together and then rubbed them briskly.

  "Take us to the Guardian of Forever."

  There was a dead silence in the room, and then

  Data turned to Hauman. "Doctor, I

  thank you for your time. That will be all. And make

  certain the file on Deanna Troi is

  sealed."

  Hauman nodded. Riker stared at Data and

  said, "What?"

  Data raised a finger, indicating that they should not

  say anything until Hauman left. Riker

  waited impatiently until the doctor was out the

  door, and then he said, "What's the problem here,

  Data?"

  "Admiral ... I didn't want Dr.

  Hauman here because, frankly ... I was afraid

  that you would say things that would be incriminating and I

  didn't want there to be a witness who had less

  loyalty to you than I do."

  "Incriminating? Data," Riker said, trying

  to keep his anger down, "what do you mean? Isn't

  it obvious what's happened?"

  "I blame myself, sir. I tried to tell you

  something I hoped would give you some measure of

  peace. But instead it is moving you toward thinking the

  unthinkable. It's obvious to me, sir, what's

  going to happen. You intend to try and step through the

  Guardian of Forever. To go back in time and save

  the life of Counselor Troi, and by doing so,

  change history."

  "No, Data. Fix history. Don't you

  get it?" Riker started to pace the room, unable

  to contain his excitement. "She wasn't supposed

  to die! Someone went back, from right now, or

  maybe even years in the future. And they

  poisoned her!"

  "We don't know that."

  "We do know that! The poison came from the

  future! Maybe our future, or

  perhaps her future which is our past, which is ..."

  His voice trailed off. "Give me a minute.

  I get confused sometimes when I discuss time

  travel."

  "I understand what you'
re saying, sir. But I

  must point out that Raxatocin has been known

  to occur in nature, even before it was developed as

  a poison. It's possible that somehow she

  acquired it through some unique and bizarre combination

  of circumstances."

  "Remotely possible, but not likely. I'm

  telling you, Data, you were absolutely right about

  her being a focal point in time. But it's the

  reverse of Edith Keeler. Deanna wasn't

  supposed to die. She was supposed to live. Our

  world, this world--it's not the "correct"' time line.

  It's the wrong one!"

  "And your hope is that, if you're allowed to go

  through the Guardian of Forever, you'll have the

  opportunity to set things right."

  "That's correct."

  Although Data's expression didn't change,

  it was clear that a great deal was running through his mind.

  And all of it involved trying to determine some way

  to deal with this new and bizarre situation.

  "Admiral ... you cannot be allowed to do it."

  "I'm giving you a direct order to--"

  But Data shook his head. "No, sir. Not this

  time. It's not going to work, and pulling rank is

  going to be of no use whatsoever. Starfleet

  regulations in this matter are very, very specific.

  Ever since the first Enterprise slingshot back

  through time and proved that it could be done, a set of

  specific guidelines were developed regarding

  time travel. And the foremost of those guidelines

  is, no tampering."

  "Dammit, Data, someone already tampered!"

  "We can't be certain of that. What we can be

  certain of is Starfleet regulations--"

  "The hell with regulations!" Riker stood

  barely two feet from Data, his fists clenched,

  his temper flaring beyond control. "Deanna's life

  is at stake!"

  "Deanna has no life, Admiral.

  Deanna is dead." Data's calm was a

  striking contrast to Riker's fury. "She has

  been dead for four decades. Her death helped

  determine the universe in which we've lived all

  these years."

  "Then I don't want to live in this

  universe. I want to cross over, like Tasha

  did."

  "That's not possible, Admiral. And if you

  enter the Guardian, you put at risk the lives

  and reality of uncounted innocent people. Many things have

  happened since Counselor Troi died. I've

  evolved, both in terms of self-expression and in

  command ability. You have your Starbase to command."

  Riker laughed bitterly.

  "Wesley has his own command," Data continued.

  "Geordi, Worf, Alexander ... all of them