Star Trek-TNG-Novel-Imzadi 1

by Peter David [lit]

  to be heels over head in love in order to be

  intimate with someone. Maybe you'll discover that the

  physical side can have its own rewards, now that

  you've allowed yourself to experience it."

  "Perhaps," she said evenly. "But there's one thing

  of which I'm reasonably sure at this point."

  "Oh, really? What?"

  "That you're not going to be there to find out."

  He tried to think of a response to that, but before

  he could, she put a hand to his cheek and said,

  sounding not angry, but simply sad, "I'm

  sorry, w. I just don't think there's a

  future for us."

  And she turned and walked away.

  Riker stood there, unmoving, watching her go.

  Wanting to say something, but unable to. Perhaps it was

  the drink still buzzing in his head, or perhaps there

  simply were no ^ws ... or even thoughts.

  He turned and there was Sergeant Tang, leaning

  against a wall and regarding him thoughtfully.

  "You were right to let her go, sir," said

  Tang. "Mark me, there's a twinkling star for every

  broken heart that a Starfleet man leaves--"

  "Shut up, Tang," said Riker, and walked

  past him, heading back to his quarters.

  Tang, unruffled, merely nodded. "Shutting

  up, sir. All part of the service."

  Deanna Troi peeked into the study, sensing that

  her mother was still there.

  Lwaxana was staring at a small holograph.

  She said nothing to Deanna, but Deanna sensed that

  her mother was not mentally wishing her to stay away.

  Tentatively, she entered the study and peered over

  her mother's shoulder.

  "That's Grandmother, isn't it," said Deanna.

  Lwaxana merely nodded.

  There was a long silence, and then Deanna said,

  "I just came to get some of my things."

  Her mother stared at the holograph for a time longer

  and then said, "You know ... when I said that if you

  went out the door, you couldn't return ... the ^ws

  sounded familiar somehow. I racked my brain

  trying to remember where I'd heard them."

  "And did you?"

  "Mm-hmm. My mother"--Lwaxana waved the

  holograph slightly--?sd it to me. When I

  told her I wanted to marry your father."

  "She had her own plans for you?"

  "Of course. Just as you are promised

  to Wyatt, I was promised to ... what was his

  name?" She paused, and then remembered.

  "Stahly. That was it. But when we were of the proper

  age, we met for the first time, and ... well, things

  just didn't ... work out."

  Deanna hunkered down next to her mother,

  fascinated. Lwaxana had never spoken of this

  before. "Why not? Didn't you like each other?"

  "Oh, we got on quite well. I liked him,

  he liked me. But ... I knew moments after we

  were introduced that it was hopeless. For one thing ...

  he was in love with someone else."

  "Another woman?"

  Lwaxana looked at her bleakly. "Another

  man."

  All Deanna could say was, "Oh."

  "The hell of it was," admitted Lwaxana,

  "they made a cuter couple than we did."

  Deanna tried not to smile. "It must have been

  very difficult for you."

  "Well, fortunately it was shortly

  after that that I met your father. But my mother was stung

  by the lack of success for her match, and so she

  rejected out of hand whomever I brought home. We

  had an explosive argument about it. She disliked

  everything about your father."

  "As much as you dislike Will Riker?"

  "Oh, no ... my dear, you thought I was

  difficult?" Lwaxana laughed mirthlessly.

  "She was much worse. Much much worse. Because

  to her, it was a matter of wounded pride. The notion

  that I could find a mate for myself where she had

  failed. And when I stormed out, through that very door,

  in fact"--she pointed to the front door--?she

  told me that I shouldn't bother coming back. Oh,

  she didn't mean it, of course. Well ...

  maybe at the time, she did."

  "And did you mean it when you said it to me?"

  Lwaxana regarded her thoughtfully. "At the

  time." Then she spread her arms. "Oh,

  Deanna ... I'm so sorry."

  Deanna leaned forward and her mother embraced

  her. "Sorry for what, Mother?"

  "Sorry because I know what happened when you went

  to see Lieutenant Riker. I mean ... a mother

  knows these things."

  "Especially when a mother can read minds."

  "That's true. And also ... I'm sorry because

  you were right about something. About how ... things between us have

  changed. And we can't go back to the way they

  were."

  "Why are you sorry about that, Mother?"

  "Because I liked the way things were," said

  Lwaxana plaintively. "It was nice,

  simple, uncomplicated." But then she sighed and

  patted Deanna's hand. "But it wasn't what you

  wanted. I understand that. And I really am not an

  ogress, Deanna."

  "I know, Mother."

  "I just ask one thing. Please ... please

  don't become a naked blue dancer on

  Zetli. It's so chilly there, I can guarantee

  you, you'll catch your death."

  "All right, Mother." Deanna smiled.

  "Tell you what. Not only do I promise not

  to become a naked dancer of any color, but

  I'll stay with my psychology studies. Although

  ... I don't rule out Starfleet as an

  eventual outlet for my career."

  Lwaxana appeared about to object, but instead

  she simply nodded her head. "Whatever

  will make you happy, dear."

  "Thank you, Mother."

  "You know, it's so late at night, and you ran

  out without having dinner. You must be starving."

  "I ... am a little hungry," admitted

  Deanna.

  "Would you like something to eat?"

  "That'd be nice."

  As soon as Deanna said it, she realized

  she'd misspoken, and she thrust her hand forward and

  put it gently over Lwaxana's mouth before her

  mother could bellow for Mr. Homn.

  "Mother," she said softly, "I'll make my

  own dinner. In fact, if you'd like, I'll even

  make something for you."

  Lwaxana looked thunderstruck. "Yourself?"

  "Yes, Mother."

  Lwaxana let out an amazed breath. "You

  are full of radical ideas today, aren't you.

  All right ... let's go." She stood and looked

  around, momentarily confused. "Now ... which way is

  the kitchen?"

  Deanna took her by the elbow. "I'll show

  you, Mother," she said with a smile.

  Lwaxana shook her head as Deanna led her

  off. "Children nowadays and their crazy notions.

  Starfleet. Cooking. I don't know what the world

  is coming to. ..."

  CHAPTER 31

  Roper looked up as Riker walked slowly

  into the caf@e. "You're late, Captain," he

  admonished him.

  Riker just nodded ... very slowly. He
sat

  down and the waitress brought some black coffee

  over to him unasked. He was silently grateful.

  "I hear," said Roper casually, "that there was

  something of a brouhaha last night."

  "Something like that." Riker didn't even want

  to ask him where he'd heard it. Either it was from one

  of the security men describing the idiot behavior

  of a senior officer, or else it was from Roper's

  own daughter describing the aftermath of an

  assignation. Either way it wasn't something he

  wanted to dwell on.

  "Planetside relationships can get somewhat

  tangled, eh?" said Roper. "That's the

  advantage of being in a ship. Hit and run, as

  it were."

  Riker just nodded and let the coffee flow into his

  veins, reestablishing some measure of coherency.

  "You must be happy about getting out of here."

  Something about the phrasing caught Riker's

  attention, burrowing through the alcoholic haze.

  "I've ... I've got at least another month

  here."

  But Roper shook his head. "I thought you'd

  heard. Hood repairs finished faster than

  anticipated. You're out of here in twenty-four

  hours, Captain."

  Riker felt a charge in his head as if a

  life-support system had come on line. "You

  mean ... you mean I'm shipping out?"

  "That's right. So you'd better get yourself shaped

  up. There's paperwork for you to finish up. Forms

  to be filled out, reports on the Sindareen

  business. Got to have everything tied off nice and

  neat before we kick you loose."

  Riker stood quickly, tossing the coffee down his

  throat and trying to ignore the fact that, in so

  doing, he'd just burned himself. "Mark--Mark,

  thank you. This is great news. This is ..."

  Mark pumped his hand and said, smiling, "When

  you're out carving yourself a career, just think about us

  poor planet-crawlers every now and then, okay?"

  "I will, Mark. You can bet on that."

  "Then get a move on, Captain."

  Riker released Roper's hand and bolted out of the

  caf@e. Mark watched him go and then sighed.

  "Kids."

  Everything had been attended to.

  Alm.

  Riker told himself that he was making a final

  stop at the art museum to verify for himself that

  everything was back in place and restored to order.

  After all, Starfleet would want nothing to be

  overlooked.

  But he found himself standing for an overlong time in

  front of one particular painting: the one Deanna

  had showed him, the one with all the large concentric

  "goopy" swirls.

  He stared at it.

  Then he heard the music floating from nearby.

  And somehow, in a way that he couldn't quite explain,

  the music seemed to enhance what he was looking at.

  As if dancing to the notes, the colors began

  slowly to swirl. It bore a striking

  resemblance, Riker realized, to stars

  swimming about in a sort of galactic

  whirlpool. No, not just stars ... stars and

  planets, and perhaps ... perhaps that was something like what

  the universe had looked like in the throes of

  creation. Void and miasmic and filled with

  promise and possibilities ...

  He sensed her standing next to him. But he

  couldn't turn to face her.

  "You're leaving," said Deanna.

  "Yes."

  "I wish you safe voyage."

  "I wish you ..." He stopped and found the

  strength to look at her. He had turned quickly,

  andfora moment his mind's eye superimposed the flow

  of the painting over her. For one insane second,

  she was, literally, the center of his universe.

  "I wish you could come with me," he said at last.

  She shook her head. "You know, Imzadi ...

  for a time there, I was ready to change my universe

  for you. But now ... now I don't think either of us

  is ready for that."

  He tried to say that she was wrong, but he

  couldn't. So instead he tried to find some way

  to say good-bye. But he couldn't do that either.

  He turned and looked back at the painting.

  Such vastness that encompassed everything there was ... and

  yet somehow, now, it seemed completely empty.

  "Deanna." He turned back to her.

  "Maybe ..."

  But she was gone.

  He hadn't even said good-bye. Dammit,

  he'd said nothing to her ... because he hadn't been

  able to find the ^ws. And so he'd blanked his mind,

  and now she probably thought that he didn't care

  all that much. If he were able to part from her with such

  apparent ease, without even a ^w ...

  He took a step in the direction he was sure

  she had gone ... but then stopped. Because he knew,

  beyond any question, that this was the way she wanted it. And

  somehow, somewhere along the way what she wanted had

  become more important to him than what he

  wanted.

  CHAPTER 32

  Captain's Log, Stardate 42372.5:

  Of the twenty-four hours Q allotted us

  to prove ourselves, eleven have now passed without

  incident. And yet I cannot forget Q's

  prediction that we will face here some

  critical test of human worth.

  As the Enterprise continued to orbit around

  Cygnus IV, Commander Riker sat across from his

  new captain in the ready room. Both of them were

  equally concerned about what they percvd as oddities

  on Farpoint Station, but neither was certain

  precisely how to proceed.

  The thing that Riker was pleased about, however, was that

  Picard had so clearly accepted him without

  reservation. Once Picard had welcomed him

  aboard and set out the ground rules, it was as if the

  captain had left any sort of doubt behind him.

  Unlike other commanders under whom he'd served,

  Riker felt no pressure that he had

  to impress Picard. Instead Picard was clearly

  going to deal with him in a straightforward,

  no-nonsense manner. It was an attitude that

  Riker welcomed.

  Studying his notes on Cygnus IV,

  Riker said, "This planet's interior heat

  results in abundant geothermal energy, sir.

  But it's about all this world does offer."

  Picard looked thoughtful. "And it's your belief

  that this is what made it possible for them to construct

  this base to Starfleet standards?"

  "Yes, sir." Riker leaned forward. "We have

  to assume that they've been trading their surplus

  energy for the construction materials used here. According

  to our ship's scans, many of the materials used are

  not found on this world."

  Picard smiled slightly. "Perhaps it's like those

  incidents you describe in your report as "alm

  magical"' attempts to please us."

  From any other captain, that might have sounded

  patronizing. But Picard was merely stating the

  facts. Accordingly, Riker nodded. "Those events

  did
happen, sir."

  "And in time we'll discover the explanation.

  Meanwhile, none of it suggests anything threatening.

  If only every life-form had as much desire

  to please Starfleet."

  Riker knew what Picard meant. With the

  Ferengii to contend with, not to mention the Orions, the

  Sindareen ... plus the ever-present notion that the

  Romulans might be heard from again ... there were

  certainly enough hazards for the Federation to deal with. And

  then this Q had shown up, whose actions Riker had

  reviewed earlier, just to make things even more

  difficult.

  Picard rose. "Ready to beam down? I'm

  looking forward to meeting this Groppler Zorn."

  Riker waited for Picard to come around the desk.

  After Riker's big speech earlier about being

  protective of the captain, he wasn't thrilled

  that Picard was immediately going to beam down and meet

  with the head of Farpoint Station. If there was some

  unknown danger, it would be extremely bad if that

  danger suddenly became known in the course of

  Picard's visit planetside. Still, there

  appeared to be no jeopardy at the moment, and so

  Riker kept his counsel. As Picard preceded

  him to the door, Riker said, "I'm convinced there's

  more to it than just "pleasing us,"' sir."

  Picard looked thoughtful. "Like something Q is

  doing to trick us?"

  As they stepped out toward the turbolift,

  Riker noticed the turbolift door opening. His

  view of the occupant was momentarily blocked

  by Picard's raised arm as the captain gestured and

  said, "Over here, Counselorffwas He turned

  to Riker and said, "I've asked her to join us in this

  meeting."

  A ship's counselor. Riker had never served

  on a ship large enough, or on a long enough

  mission, that a counselor was required. Besides, the

  position was a relatively new one

  to Starfleet, only having been developed over

  the last few years. Since Riker had unbounded

  confidence in his own mental balance, he doubted that

  he'd have much need for a counselor's services, but

  thought a lot of people on the Enterprise could

  probably make good use of one. He just hoped

  that he or she wasn't going to be one of these

  excessively cerebral types who tried to read

  something into everything that was said, no matter how

  casual.

  Now Riker had a clear view of her ... and

  he felt all the blood drain from his face.

  Picard had turned to the woman and was saying,