rescue.
Her Imzadi.
First, though ... he had to get out of there.
He went over to the far wall. He knew that the
officer in the adjoining cabin was already on duty, so
this was definitely the preferred exit route.
He held the phaser close up to the wall and
set it for as low and quiet a setting as he could.
He couldn't risk giving the guards any sort of
warning at all.
He pressed down on the trigger device and a
pencil-thin beam of light emerged from the miniature
phaser. Forcing himself to be patient, Riker
proceeded to cut a hole in the wall.
The ship's security system, programmed
to recognize 398 different weapons, did not
recognize the futuristic phaser for what it
was. Therefore, it identified the weapon as the
closest analogue in its system, a hand-held
arc welder--j as the admiral knew the computer
would do. Hardly a weapon, the welder was not something
that required any sort of security alert.
Riker continued his work undisturbed.
When Will and Deanna entered the conference room,
they saw that Picard and the delegates from the
Cordians, the Luss, and the Byfrexians were
already there. Only the Sindareen had yet to arrive.
Dann was sitting next to the Luss
ambassador, and he had a profoundly befuddled
expression on his face. His inquiries as to how
in hell he had come to be unconscious in his
cabin had not really been answered by anyone. When
he saw Deanna, he started to rise, his entire
face a question. But Deanna silently gestured for
him to sit back down, somehow putting across that
she'd speak to him later about it.
Will turned to Worf and the other guards and said in
a low voice, "All right ... we'll be okay
for now."
"If you are certain," said Worf slowly.
"Yes," said Riker, and he patted his
phaser. "I have the only working weapon in the room
--x's keyed into the safe code of the null
field. I'll sit next to her and make sure
no one gets near her. All this attention ...
it's disconcerting to her. We'll be fine."
"Very well," Worf said. "But summon me
instantly at the first sign of trouble."
It sounded remarkably like an order, which was not
particularly appropriate for a lieutenant
to issue a commander. But Will took it in stride.
"Yes, sir."
If Worf picked up on the amused
sarcasm, he gave no sign. Instead he
grunted again and then turned and exited the room.
"I see the Sindareen are not yet with us,"
observed Picard as Riker and Troi settled
into their seats.
"Perhaps we should start without them," suggested the
Cordian ambassador. "After all, the
Sindareen peace initiative will probably go far
more smoothly without the Sindareen actually being
involved." This produced a small chuckle from
around the table.
"I think we'll wait for them," said Picard
good-humoredly. "After all ... it would be the
polite thing to do."
Data sat on the bridge, watching the home
planet of the Sindareen turning beneath them.
The turbolift door opened and Worf
emerged. Data waited until the Klingon had
taken his station before rising and saying, "I
have something I must attend to, Mr. Worf. You
have the conn."
He walked out before Worf could say anything.
Mentally, the Klingon shrugged. Whatever Data
had to take care of, certainly it was none of his
concern.
Lieutenant Barclay, deciding that the entire
previous night had been one, long bad dream--
overstimulation of the imagination--stepped out of the shower,
dried himself off, and got dressed for duty.
The two security guards outside Riker's
quarters took no notice when the door to the
adjoining quarters hissed open.
As a result, they never had a chance to react
before the phaser beam, now set to stun, cut loose
from the miniature weapon in the hand of Admiral
Riker. Instantly, they both fell to the ground,
unconscious.
Riker bent over them, glancing around quickly and
breathing a sigh of relief that no one was coming. He
grabbed each of them by one wrist and, moving as quickly
as he could and cursing the achiness of his aging
muscles, backed up and dragged them into the cabin
from which he'd just exited.
He left them lying on the floor, next to the
large piece of wall that he had cut out and pushed
through into this cabin. He knew that the phaser blast
would have knocked them both out for at least an hour.
When he reemerged from the cabin, he was wearing the
uniform of one of the guards. Although there was nothing he
could do about his obvious resemblance to the
Enterprise's second-in-command, at least
he could make himself a bit less noticeable as
he moved through the corridors.
He had a little bit of time. He hoped that would
be all he needed.
Data, he thought desperately, if you are
here ... where would you be? What would you be up to?
Would you really be so coldhearted as to kill
Deanna ... and if so, how would you go about it?
Data stood on the turbolift as it whisked
him to his destination. He had worked out what needed
to be done and was reasonably certain that he could
succeed.
He would leave some confusion in his wake. But
confusion could easily be dealt with. There would be
nothing absolutely incriminating.
And Deanna would be dead.
The Sindareen entered the conference room. "Our
apologies," said Ambassador Nici. "We
were unaware that the switch had been made to this
conference room."
Eza was staring at Troi with a most peculiar
expression on his face. And Deanna started
to feel the first tickle to her mind of something ...
something that she was starting to place ...
That vague feeling that she had encountered once
before ... when she had been the captive, years
ago, of a Sindareen raider.
In the corridor, Admiral Riker suddenly
skidded to a halt.
"Of course," he whispered.
He turned and barreled down the corridor.
Data stepped off the turbolift and
abruptly a voice called, "Data!"
Geordi LaForge came up to him quickly.
"I'm glad I happened to run into you. We've
been getting some weird variants in the warp
field fluctuations."
"Now is not a good time, Geordi." Data
started down the hallway.
Geordi stopped him, looking at him with
concern. "Data, are you okay?"
"Functioning perfectly. We can discuss the
field fluctuations at a later date,
Geordi. For the moment, I have other things to attend
to."
"But it's really odd. The time-space
capacitors seem to be reacting to ...
well, to nothing that I can detect."
"Later." Data's voice was firm. He
turned and walked off, leaving a very puzzled chief
engineer behind him.
Will Riker studied the ambassadors around the
table. Everyone seemed perfectly calm.
Everything seemed friendly ... or at least
polite.
He looked to Deanna. A faint, puzzled
expression was on her face that he knew quite
well. She was concentrating, trying to pick the
threads of emotions out of the air and weave them
into something that she could examine and make
pronouncements on.
He thought of giving her a gentle nudge,
to ask her what was happening ... but then decided
against it. When she was ready to tell him, she would.
Lieutenant Barclay checked his morning
duty log, saw nothing particularly unusual,
glanced in the mirror once more, approved of his
hairstyle, and walked out of his quarters whistling and
ready for a far more sane day.
He walked past Lieutenant Commander
Data, who barely afforded him a glance. "Good
morning, sir."
"Good morning, Barclay. You look much more
relaxed today," said Data, and kept on going.
Barclay, still whistling aimlessly, headed for the
turbolift.
Admiral Riker dashed into Data's quarters
and moaned softly.
Data was lying, unmoving, on the bed. From his
skewed position, it was clear that he had been shut
off and tossed there like a sack of wheat.
And to make matters worse ... his head was
gone.
Riker allotted sixty seconds to locate
it before he went after the future Data himself. It
would have been nice to have the strength of the present
Data as backup ... but he would make do if
he had to.
He always had in the past ...
... or future ...
... or whatever.
The door to the conference room hissed open, and
Data stepped in. Picard looked up at
Data questioningly.
"A private matter, sir, for Counselor
Troi."
"Very well," said a slightly puzzled
Picard.
Troi rose, as did w. With Data, they
stepped over to one of the corners of the room.
"You are aware that the captain has filled me
in on the present situation," Data said softly.
When Riker and Troi nodded, he continued, "I
have some rather bad news. Admiral Riker ... your
future self ... seems to have suffered some sort
of massive heart attack. Dr. Crusher
says he's barely stabilized and"--he turned
to Troi--?he's calling for you,
Counselor."
Deanna frowned. "I ... I don't feel
him in that sort of distress."
"He's barely conscious, Counselor. Perhaps
that affects your empathic abilities ... or
perhaps the proximity of our own Commander Riker
deters your ability to focus on the other. I
took the liberty of coming in person, rather than using
communicators. In the event that unauthorized
individuals are somehow tapping into our comm
systems ..."
"Yes, good thinking, Mr. Data," said
Riker.
"I'd better go to him," Deanna said
worriedly.
"I'll go, too," Riker added.
"Are you certain you wish to do that, Commander?"
Data asked. "Watching yourself die ... I'd
think it would be difficult for you."
Deanna turned to Riker. "He's right, w.
Please ... I don't want to put you through that.
Data's with me. I'll be fine. Honestly ...
if you ask me, I think you're being
overconcerned. The danger is probably over."
Data nodded in agreement.
CHAPTER 42
With three seconds to spare in his
self-imposed countdown, Admiral Riker found
Data's head. It had been wrapped carefully
in a sheet and shoved into the back of the closet ...
just inconvenient enough to serve as a delay, but not so
dangerous that it would actually endanger the future
existence of the android called Data.
Riker activated the head as soon as he had
pulled it free from the cloth. Data blinked and
looked around. Then he stared up into the face of his
liberator.
"I assume you are not the person who put me
into this predicament."
"No, Data. You did this all to yourself."
"You appear to be Commander Riker ... but
significantly aged."
"Come on," said Riker, getting to his feet.
"Can you operate your body from here?"
With a cybernetic impulse from Data's
positronic brain, his body lurched off the bed
like something from an old horror film.
"Good," Riker snapped. "I'll
fill you in on the way. Come on, let's go!"
"Be certain to face me forward so that I can
see where I am going," Data cautioned him.
Riker bolted into the corridor and started down
the hallway, Data's head tucked under one arm.
Behind him at a rapid jog came Data's
body.
"Would you care to apprise me of what is
happening?" asked Data.
Riker was ready for this. He knew that if he
told Data the truth, or even part of the truth,
If this Data decided that the future Data's
mission was a sound one, then he might very well have
two androids trying to kill Deanna. That he
did not need.
So he lied through his teeth.
"I'm Will Riker, all right, but from another
dimension. We're pursuing the individual you know
as Lore. He crossed over into our universe,
killed Deanna Troi there for reasons that we do
not know, and now has returned to this dimension and is
intent on performing the same murderous act. We
have no idea why he's doing these things."
"Neither do I," Data said, "but Lore has
been known to behave in an irrational manner. He
must be stopped. Shall we warn Counselor Troi
via communicator?"
"No. Lore might be monitoring the
frequencies. Our best hope is to catch him
by surprise."
Commander Will Riker sat down again as Data and
Troi walked out of the conference room together.
Picard leaned over to him and said, "Number
One?"
In a low voice, Will said, "My future
self is ... very ill. Data says he's
calling for Deanna. She's going to him."
Picard studied Riker to make sure that his
second-in-command was dealing with this news. But
Riker's face was inscrutable ... in fact, he
seemed lost in thought.
Deanna Troi looked worriedly at
Data as he stepped to one side when they emerged
from the conference room and said, "After you,
Counselor." She started down the co
rridor,
Data a foot or two behind her.
Barclay stepped out of the turbolift ... and
stopped breathing.
The Riker from the holodeck pushed past him and
onto the lift ... which was impossible. Under his arm
he'd tucked the head of Lieutenant Commander
Data ... which was also impossible since Barclay
had just left Data on another deck. He
turned, staring at the bizarre sight in utter
shock, and then was rudely shoved out of the way by what
appeared to be a headless body, which joined the other
two ... or maybe it was one and a half ... in
the turbolift.
"Hope you're keeping your nose clean,
Barclay," Riker warned him.
"Good morning, Barclay," said Data's
head. "You look much more relaxed today."
Then the turbolift hissed shut.
"Thank you, sir," was all Barclay managed
to say, before he mercifully passed out.
Deanna Troi and her escort started down the
hallway. Data had already determined how he would
pin the blame on Lore, thus leaving his own time
line unaffected. Now he studied her long
neck, trying to decide what would be the most
painless method of disposing of her. For some reason,
now that the moment would shortly be at hand ... he
felt ...
Reluctant.
But his duty was clear.
In the conference room, Riker suddenly jumped
as if someone had jammed a rod into his back.
He had done so right as Nici began to make
her opening remarks, and she looked at him with stern
disapproval.
"Commander?" said Picard.
"Data said he's calling for her." He
turned to face Picard and looked as if he'd
seen a ghost.
Picard was at a loss, but he saw the
consternation of his first officer. "I know, Number
One. You told me th--"
Riker's voice became louder. "You don't
understand, Captain! That's exactly what Data
said. "He's calling."' He said "he's."'
Several times! He used contractions!"
"But Data doesn't use--"
Immediately both officers were on their feet, but
Riker was nearer the exit. The
ambassadors were babbling in utter confusion as
Riker bolted out the door.
He saw them, just turning the corner of the
corridor.
As if from a separation of years, he shouted,