Star Trek-TNG-Novel-Imzadi 1

by Peter David [lit]

  precise moment, however, Picard could have been a

  million light-years away and Adm.

  William Riker would not have noticed.

  Instead Riker was staring at Deanna Troi

  with a mixture of disbelief and shock. "Deanna

  ...," he whispered.

  She took a step toward him, stunned.

  "Will--?"

  It was the fastest shift in emotion that Deanna

  had ever felt. An air of despair and doom

  had hung like a shroud over the man facing her ...

  until he had set eyes on her. And suddenly

  it had been ripped away, just like that. How was it

  possible that one person--.one person--cd make

  that much difference in someone's life?

  He approached her, reaching out to her. Picard

  and his Number One made no move, but merely

  watched in pure amazement.

  The admiral brought his hands up to her face,

  hovered over it for an instant as if afraid

  to touch her. As if afraid that if he made any

  such movement, she would burst like a soap bubble and

  all of it, all of this moment, would just vanish.

  But then he did touch her. Riker put his hands

  to her face, and they were shaking. "Oh ... my

  God," he breathed.

  It was like that moment in the Jalara Jungle,

  except now he was the one who was trembling.

  Deanna, for her part, reacted entirely on

  instinct, putting her arms around him and pulling him

  tightly against her.

  His chest began to heave with pent-up emotion, and the

  old man began to sob. He no longer cared where

  he was, or who was watching. The ethics of his

  actions did not weigh on him. All that mattered

  was that she was there, and she was alive, and in his arms.

  Years of agony and guilt and second-guessing,

  washed away by the hot tears and first real emotion

  besides grief that he had experienced for decades.

  And she heard his thoughts, and it was as startling as that

  first time had been. Oh, God ... Imzadi

  ... I'm whole again, echoed in her

  mind, the prayer of thanksgiving from a man who had

  given up on everything, especially himself. I

  never knew ... what I had until you were gone.

  "It's all right," she murmured, stroking his

  back. "It's all right."

  He drew back from her to look her in the

  eyes, those eyes that had been closed in death for

  years. They were as bright and transcendent as he had

  remembered, and both of their faces were wet with

  tears. Whether hers was wet from his or she had

  generated her own, he couldn't tell. He also

  couldn't care.

  Standing to one side, Comdr. Will Riker watched

  the reunion of two lovers and realized--

  insanely--t he was jealous.

  "Worf to Riker."

  Riker the elder had to rein in his impulse

  to answer, but instead nodded in the direction of w.

  "I think it's for you."

  Will tapped his communicator. "Yes?"

  "We checked the cabin to which Ambassador

  Dann had been assigned and found him

  unconscious. Apparently the Chameloid had

  accosted Dann at some point earlier this evening and

  taken his place."

  The admiral's head now turned, his attention

  switching to the matters at hand. He released his

  hold on Deanna and turned to Will, making a

  throat-cutting gesture. Will said, "Thank you,

  Mr. Worf. Make sure the Chameloid is

  secure. Riker out." Then he turned to his

  future self and said, "This Chameloid is one

  of "themea"' isn't he."

  "I believe so," said the admiral. "You

  sure he's a Chameloid? Large? Brown

  hair and furry?" When Will nodded, Admiral

  Riker continued, "Well, unless I miss my

  guess, he's an officer named Blair. There was

  only one Chameloid on ... on the ship, and

  Lieutenant Blair was it. I doubt ... they

  could have gotten another one so quickly. It figures

  that he would assume the appearance of someone close

  to Deanna. If they anticipated my trying

  to save her, then the logical thing was to take on the

  aspect of whoever was with her at the key moment in

  time. Simplest way to keep an eye on her and

  make sure things progress smoothly."

  "For all you knew," Will now said, "I could have

  been one of them. When you came here, you might have

  been walking into a trap."

  "I know. That's why I mentioned the lines of

  poetry to you. I watched your reaction very

  carefully. That wasn't just to convince you that I'm

  you. It was also to convince me that you're me."

  "I hate to break this up," Picard now said,

  stepping forward, "but I, who am unquestionably me,

  would be most grateful if either of you cared to tell

  either of me what in hell is going on?"

  "Watch your tone with me, Captain," said the

  elder Riker with a half-serious smirk. "I have

  seniority, and I outrank you."

  Picard was not someone who was easily flustered,

  but now he turned to his second-in-command with

  utter perplexity. "Number One--?" And there was

  a distinct tone of warning to his voice.

  "Simply put, Captain," said Will, stepping

  forward and gesturing to the gray-haired man, "this is

  myself, from the future."

  "I surmised that, Number One," said

  Picard tightly. "Now what the blazes is he

  doing here?"

  "All right, Captain," the admiral told

  him. "To put this as succinctly, and as

  noncommittally, as possible--Deanna's life

  was in danger. I came back through time to see her

  through that danger. And there are some people who would prefer

  that I didn't."

  "Will ...," began Picard.

  Two Rikers said, "Yes?"

  Despite the seriousness of the situation,

  Deanna had to make an effort not to laugh.

  "Admiral," Picard started again,

  "Counselor Troi has been in danger before.

  We all have. Why was this threat so significant

  that it warranted your taking the extremely

  dangerous step of coming back through time?"

  "She died," said the admiral, trying not

  to look at her. "But now she hasn't ...

  except that I haven't returned to my own time.

  Which means ..." And his voice darkened. "It

  means the danger to her isn't over yet."

  Picard leaned against a bureau. "How ... how

  did you come here?"

  The admiral gave Riker a long, hard

  look. There seemed to be a great deal going through his

  mind, as if he were coming to a variety of decisions.

  "I can't tell you," he said finally.

  Picard blinked. "Well, then ... tell us

  why Counselor Troi was"--he found he

  couldn't say the ^w and settled

  for--?attacked. What happened as a consequence of

  it?"

  "I can't tell you that, either."

  "Oh, for God's sake!" said Picard in

  exasperation. "It seems just yesterday we went through

  this with Rasmusse
n--and he turned out to be from the

  past, for that matter!"

  "I know," the admiral reminded him. "I was

  there."

  "Well, then?"

  The admiral placed the palms of his hands

  together. "Jean-Luc," he began, and noted the

  surprised expression of the Enterprise captain

  upon hearing his first name spoken by the man he still thought

  of as a subordinate. "Jean-Luc ... you

  understand the tremendous risk I've taken by coming

  back here. You know, as well as I, the

  Starfleet regulations against any sort of

  interference with the time stream."

  "Of course. But since you are here, and since

  you've already interfered ..."

  "In for a penny, in for a pound? Is that it?" The

  admiral smiled humorlessly. "I wish it were that

  simple. I came here for one reason and one

  reason only: to save Deanna. Violating those

  regulations--taking the responsibility for a

  universe on my shoulders--was the second most

  difficult thing I've ever done ... the first being

  when I had to leave you behind to be killed by the

  Romulans."

  The last time Will had seen Picard as white as

  he was now was back when he'd been transformed

  into a Borg. "I'm ..." His voice was barely

  above a whisper. "I'm killed by the

  Romulans?"

  "No, Jean-Luc. I made that up."

  "You ..." Picard looked at Will and

  Deanna, and then back to Riker. "You made that

  up? Why? Why would you joke about such a thing?"

  "It wasn't a joke. It was to make a

  point. If I start talking about events--.any

  events--bby my immediate goal of saving Deanna,

  then I run the risk of saying the wrong thing. The

  slightest slip could end up changing the time stream

  beyond what I've already committed to. Making the

  initial decision was already enough of playing God for

  me. I'm not prepared, under any circumstance,

  to expand on it. What if I accidentally talk

  about someone on this ship--y, Worf, Beverly--in

  the past tense? Let slip that people I know

  now aren't around forty years from now. Then they get

  to spend the next forty years, every time they run

  into any sort of difficult situation, wondering,

  "Is this it? Is this what results in my

  death?"' Or the other way around. What if I

  tell you, Jean-Luc, that in my time, you're

  running Starfleet? That could result in your

  becoming overly confident. You could go into dangerous

  scenarios thinking that you'll definitely get out of

  them because, hell, you know you'll be around four

  decades hence. And as a result, you can get

  yourself, and everyone else, killed. Time is very

  malleable, Jean-Luc. And I'm just not going

  to mold the clay any further. I'm really very

  sorry."

  The three younger officers looked at each other,

  and then Picard--drumming his fingers on the table--

  said, "If you don't tell us the bare facts we

  need to know in order to handle the situation ... then

  Deanna could still die."

  Riker looked up at her grimly. "I know

  that, Jean-Luc, but the first time, there was no warning.

  Now ... forewarned is forearmed. That will have to do for

  you. And I still have a few tricks up my

  sleeve. I just can't show them to you, that's all."

  Riker sat down and folded his arms in a

  manner that made it quite clear he was not going to say

  anything further.

  Picard sighed. "Very well. I can't say that

  I'm overly pleased with the situation. On the other

  hand ... thanks to you ... Counselor Troi is

  still alive. It would seem that I am going to have

  to hope that the instincts of the man whom I

  presently trust to be my second-in-command

  ... are still present in the man who is also--at this

  moment in time--my superior officer."

  Picard rose, and Riker stood with him.

  "I'll need some sort of modern-day Starfleet

  uniform ... and preferably some sort of

  disguise, so I can move about."

  "What you will need, Admiral, is some reading

  material to keep you busy. I have no interest in

  marching you around the ship--I think the fewer people who

  see you, the better. These quarters are going

  to serve as your personal brig. The doors will be

  sealed with an override that only I can command, and

  guards will be posted outside. You are going nowhere,

  Admiral."

  "You can't do that!" said the admiral angrily.

  "There are things I can do that you can't!

  Things I know to watch out for."

  "Maybe," said Picard. "Then again, maybe

  not. As you have made clear, time has already slipped

  into another stream. From here on in we are all of us

  improvising, Admiral, and to be blunt, I can

  tap-dance as well as you. You will stay safe and

  secure here so that I don't have to worry about a

  random time factor running about my ship. You,

  Counselor," he said to Deanna, "will go nowhere

  without Lieutenant Worf as a security

  escort."

  "Won't he question why you've given him that

  full-time assignment if, as far as he knows, the

  danger is past?" said the admiral.

  Picard, Will, and Troi looked at him in

  surprise.

  He grimaced in chagrin. "What was I

  thinking? Of course he won't question: he's a

  Klingon. Forgive me. It's been a while

  since I dealt with ..." He stopped. "Well

  ... it's been a while. Captain ... believe

  me, you're not pursuing the right course here. You've

  got to give me freedom to move."

  "Number One," said Picard calmly,

  "kindly check him for weapons."

  The first officer went to Riker, who stood

  absolutely still, glowering at Picard. Will took

  off him the phaser he'd taken from the guard, as

  well as another, much more diminutive phaser that

  he found hidden in his jacket. Will held it up and

  whistled. "Small. What'll they think of

  next?"

  "You'll find out," the admiral informed him

  dryly. "Jean-Luc ..."

  "Save it, Admiral." Picard tapped his

  communicator and summoned two security guards

  to be stationed outside Riker's cabin. As they

  waited for the guards to arrive, no ^ws were

  exchanged between the four of them ... until finally

  Picard broke the silence and said, "Can you at

  least tell me ... is there still a vessel named

  Enterprise?"

  At that, Riker smiled slightly. "Is it

  important for you to know that?"

  "I would like to."

  "All right. The answer is yes," said Riker

  quietly. "And she carries the name as nobly as

  her forebearers did. You ..." He paused and then

  said, "You see? I was either going to say that you will be

  proud of her, or that you would have been

  proud of her. Very easy to make mistakes. Like

  the one you're making by co
oping me up in here."

  "As with all mistakes, Admiral, we

  learn to live with them."

  Riker looked at Deanna, his dry skin

  crinkling around the eyes. "Some of us never learn,"

  he said in a bittersweet voice. "And some of us

  will move heaven and earth to change things for the

  better."

  She looked down, her cheeks reddening

  slightly. The admiral picked up on it

  immediately. "I'm sorry. I'm embarrassing you

  ... because I'm being so overt about how I feel for

  you, and you've gotten used to the nice, easy,

  comfortable relationship we developed while on the

  ship."

  She bobbed her head. "Yes," she admitted.

  The admiral turned and slapped Will on the

  chest. "You idiot," he admonished the

  surprised younger man. "You're choosing the tidy,

  easy path instead of the more difficult but

  ultimately more rewarding path. You aren't even

  smart enough to know when you have a good thing." The admiral

  made a noise of utter disgust and dropped down

  into a chair.

  Picard, Will, and Troi slowly backed out of the

  quarters, leaving the sullen admiral to himself.

  Once in the corridor, they received the security

  guards, whom Picard instructed to stand outside and

  listen for signs of problems. If there were

  problems, they were to summon Captain Picard at

  once. They were not to enter under any circumstance.

  The guards nodded in obedience, if not in understanding,

  and then Picard issued an order to the computer

  to keep the doors sealed unless he himself should order

  them unsealed.

  They moved away from the guards, who had taken

  up their position outside the doors. "I

  apologize, Captain," said w. "And to you,

  too, Counselor."

  Picard looked at him in surprise, as did

  Deanna. "Good heavens, Number One, why?"

  "Because of his attitude."

  "Yes, but he's not y--well, he is you,

  I suppose. But there are significant

  differences, Number One, not the least of which is

  years and experience. You shouldn't feel badly."

  "Well ... I do. Seeing someone who is,

  to all intents and purposes, me, acting that way

  ..."

  "I don't know," said Deanna with a shrug.

  "He didn't seem so bad to me."

  "You're kidding," said w. "I don't know

  ... I mean ... I know how much I owe him"--

  he looked at her--?for everything. But there was still

  something about him that just ... just rubbed me the wrong

  way."

  "But he's what you'll become, Number

  One," pointed out Picard. "You must have seen