by Peter David
Cheat death and cheat myself. No, lovely Picard. You and I—
“No! Damn you! There is no you and I!” and he slammed his fist against the crystal. His hands were inches away from her, but they might as well have been miles. “You’re insane! You’re mad with vengeance! You won’t listen to me! You won’t listen to Guinan! You only listen to the voices that scream to pursue your obsession! I won’t participate in it!”
You said you love me. Yet you only want me to come with you. You must come with me now, beautiful Picard. Wonderful Pi—
“You’re mad! I thought there was hope for you!” and he turned away from her on his damaged leg. The agony spurred him on. “I thought there was something to be salvaged and loved! I wanted something that didn’t exist anymore. That never existed! You were in my mind, and that’s all you ever were! I reject you! Now and forever, I am no longer yours! I belong to myself, and I will have no part of you! None! None!”
And Delcara screamed.
“Warp nine-point-nine,” said Geordi tonelessly.
“Increase speed to nine-point-nine,” Riker told him, every word leaden.
“Engines will shut down automatically in two minutes,” said Geordi even as he complied. Even under the best of circumstances, they could have sustained that speed for only ten minutes.
“Now or never, Captain,” whispered Troi.
In Ten-Forward, Guinan watched out the window, and waited.
And knew.
Delcara screamed, and it seared into Picard’s mind and soul, and he cried out a name.
A name. And a word, both the same.
And the name and word was Vendetta, spoken with hatred and fury and loathing. There was no trace of love.
And a voice cut through his mind and spoke four words in response. And the response was simple and eternal: I thought you understood.
And he disappeared in a haze of blue.
“Warp nine-point-nine-nine,” said Geordi, pronouncing a death sentence.
At nearly 8000 times the speed of light, the doomsday machine, second and final draft, hurtled away. The Enterprise’s engines powered down.
And then, in a burst of power that was unrecorded in the annals of Starfleet and physics, the doomsday machine, Mark two, leaped beyond all known speeds. Alien warp technology of a like that had never been seen before, and never would again, smashed through the barriers of time and space, all driven by one overwhelming need.
It tore, unstoppably, and inevitably, towards the speed limit of the galaxy. Towards the unreachable. Toward warp ten.
And vanished.
Chapter Twenty-four
Sweet Picard was gone.
Delcara understood. Sometimes, for those you love, you have to let them go. None of it mattered anymore. He had his life, and she had hers.
The Enterprise was long gone now, unable to keep up. Delcara had reached and exceeded speeds that had been thought to be impossible. But nothing was impossible if the will and the drive and the need were strong enough.
Her life. Her vendetta. A journey of years would instead be a journey of minutes. She stood on the brink of accomplishing that which had driven her for so long. She would confront the Borg. She would defeat the Borg.
And after that, who knew? Perhaps she would return to Picard. Anything could happen. She was living proof of that. The universe was an infinity of maybes.
She held her breath. The pain was gone.
Just a few more minutes…
Chapter Twenty-five
Sweet Picard was gone.
Delcara understood. Sometimes, for those you love, you have to let them go. None of it mattered anymore. He had his life, and she had hers.
The Enterprise was long gone now, unable to keep up. Delcara had reached and exceeded speeds that had been thought to be impossible. But nothing was impossible if the will and the drive and the need were strong enough.
Her life. Her vendetta. A journey of years would instead be a journey of minutes. She stood on the brink of accomplishing that which had driven her for so long. She would confront the Borg. She would defeat the Borg.
And after that, who knew? Perhaps she would return to Picard. Anything could happen. She was living proof of that. The universe was an infinity of maybes.
She held her breath. The pain was gone.
Just a few more minutes…
Chapter Twenty-six
Sweet Picard was gone.
Delcara understood. Sometimes, for those you love, you have to let them go. None of it mattered anymore. He had his life, and she had hers.
The Enterprise was long gone now, unable to keep up. Delcara had reached and exceeded speeds that had been thought to be impossible. But nothing was impossible if the will and the drive and the need were strong enough.
Her life. Her vendetta. A journey of years would instead be a journey of minutes. She stood on the brink of accomplishing that which had driven her for so long. She would confront the Borg. She would defeat the Borg.
And after that, who knew? Perhaps she would return to Picard. Anything could happen. She was living proof of that. The universe was an infinity of maybes.
She held her breath. The pain was gone.
Just a few more minutes…
Chapter Twenty-seven
Riker watched in approval as Picard slid off the biobed and tested the strength of his leg.
“You’ll be limping for a couple of days,” said Dr. Crusher. “So be sure to take it easy.
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Oh, so he listens to you, does he?” said Katherine Pulaski, taking a few minutes to visit from the Repulse, which was cruising at warp one next to the Enterprise, en route to Starbase 42. The surviving crew members of the Chekov were all stable. In fact, Captain Korsmo was positively obnoxious, and she welcomed the opportunity to take a brief respite back aboard the Enterprise.
“Well, it’s not easy,” said Crusher. “He does have a tendency to have a mind of his own.”
“That can so get in the way. By the way, Beverly, I heard about Wesley being accepted into the Academy. Congratulations.” She shook her head. “So much to catch up in the half hour or so I can spare here. I hear Worf had a son? Data had a daughter?”
“Not with each other,” said Riker dryly.
“Data as a father.” She shook her head. “I don’t usually underestimate individuals I meet, but when I do, I don’t do it in half measures.”
“And how are you doing back on the Repulse?” asked Riker.
She shrugged and smiled. “You know me. The moment I got there, I just laid down the law, and everything was fine.”
“I can just imagine,” said Picard. “Doctor Crusher, now that you’re done treating me, you might want to give O’Brien a sedative. He’s still jumpy after his rather miraculous split second transport of me at warp nine-point-nine.”
“He said the scrambling signal just stopped,” said Riker. “The moment it did, he locked on and beamed you out. Closer than we like to call it.”
At that moment Geordi entered, his arms folded. “Captain, I was hoping you had a moment to fill me in on what you saw when you were over in the planet-killer. I have a theory or two about what happened with—”
And at that moment the alarmed voice of security guard Boyajian called out through the sickbay intercom, “Dr. Crusher! Emergency medical team to the brig! Immediately!”
Immediately Crusher bolted out, followed by Pulaski, Geordi, Riker, a limping Picard, and a medtech with a crash cart.
They weren’t all able to fit into one turbolift, so the medical personnel took the first one that came, and seconds later Picard and his officers were on the other. He found himself automatically leaning on Riker’s and Geordi’s shoulders for additional support.
Seconds later they emerged on the lower deck, where the brig was situated. But before they saw anything, they heard something.
It was laughter. Loud, raucous laughter, coming from the area of the brig.
Dantar
of Penzatti.
They got there and saw Dantar, leaning just inside the forcefield of the brig, laughing and pointing and laughing once again. Boyajian was shouting at him, furious, face almost purple.
Picard, Riker, and Geordi came forward and saw the disturbance was in the brig directly across from Dantar. Before they could get there, Boyajian was standing in front of them, addressing Picard. “I’m sorry, sir!” he kept saying, over and over. “I had no idea! She was just lying there so quietly, I thought she’d cried herself to sleep! I just left her alone! And then I saw the blood dripping down, and it was too late—”
“What?!”
Geordi pushed his way through, suddenly knowing and sensing with hideous certainty. He looked into the brig. Riker and Picard were just behind him and, when Riker saw, he put a steadying hand on Geordi’s shoulder.
Crusher was passing a tricorder over Reannon’s body, but it was merely a formality. She was shaking her head in dismay.
Reannon was lying still on the bunk, as a pool of blood collected beneath her. She had been half turned over now and Geordi could see her eyes staring out at nothing, just as they had for so long before. Now, though, there wasn’t even life behind them—because of a long, perfect incision across her throat, dark and encrusted with blood.
Pulaski was removing something from the palm of Reannon’s limp left hand. She held it up for Crusher to see.
“A scalpel?” said Crusher in astonishment, taking it. She held up the laser device. “How in the hell did she get this? She must have sneaked it out of sickbay. Stuck it in her clothing.”
“Worf didn’t exactly have time to frisk her when he brought her here,” said Riker regretfully. “But why—?”
And the word hung there.
Chapter Twenty-eight
And after that, who knew? Perhaps she would return to Picard. Anything could happen. She was living proof of that. The universe was an infinity of maybes.
She held her breath. The pain was gone.
Just a few more minutes…
Sweet Picard was gone.
Delcara understood. Sometimes, for those you love, you have to let them go. None of it mattered anymore. He had his life, and she had hers....
Chapter Twenty-nine
“I feel her. In here. And out there. Everywhere,” she said.
In the Ten-Forward lounge, Guinan sat opposite Riker, Geordi, and Picard. The men had full glasses of synthehol in front of them.
“That’s fine for you, Guinan, but it doesn’t help us. Where is she?” said Riker. “Is she in Borg space? Is she dead? Is she—”
“There is an old paradox,” said Guinan, “that says that if you are standing, say, a meter away from your destination, and then you travel only half that distance, and then half of that new distance, and half of that and so on…you’ll never reach your destination. That you become infinitely closer, but never attain your goal.”
Now Geordi spoke up, but he was very quiet and restrained. Usually in this type of conversation he was positively bubbly. “And there’s another theory,” he said, “that applies the same concept of becoming infinitely close to warp ten. The most you can reach is warp nine-point-nine-nine with an infinite number of nines repeating infinitely. And as you become infinitely closer to warp ten…subjective time slows down.”
“I’ve heard of this,” said Riker. “Time distorts infinitely around you as you get infinitely closer to warp ten.”
“You wouldn’t even know it was happening,” said Geordi. “It’s like, if the universe were shrinking and all units of measurement were shrinking proportionately. You have nothing to compare it to, and you don’t realize that, for the rest of the universe, time is continuing normally. But for you there is no more normality. What is a second to us becomes eternity to someone who is trapped in an infinite time distortion. It’s like the old line, ‘The hurrieder I go, the behinder I get.’ .”
“But where is she?” demanded Picard. “I understand what you’re saying, and I certainly know the theories, but…where is she? Is she trapped in warp space?”
“She’s in warp space,” said Guinan very quietly. “And subspace.”
“What?”
“And she’s here in Ten-Forward, and throughout the Enterprise,” continued Guinan. “And throughout our galaxy, and throughout the cosmos. Don’t you see? She’s travelling eternally through time as the universe passes through her, for the universe keeps expanding. She’s occupying all points of the universe simultaneously. To her, the stars will hurtle by, and she will look forward to endless tomorrows and an infinite stream of yesterdays. She’ll continually pass through her own immediate past, and have no future. And she’ll never know,” she finished quietly. “I can’t reach her. I can feel her here,” and she touched her heart, “but that’s all. And that’s all that will ever be…” She looked down. “I don’t think I wish to discuss it any further.”
Guinan stood and walked away from the table. After a moment Riker did likewise, and headed for the bridge to keep an eye on things. Data was fully repaired from the brutal injury he’d taken, but he would be under close observation for the next twenty-four hours. Just to play it safe.
La Forge and Picard sat alone at the table, staring into their drinks.
“She always said she had all the time in the universe,” said Picard slowly. “And now she does. And her vendetta, which ruled her life, will be her life. Forever. It will drive her on and on, and be the only thing in her existence, and she will never be able to accomplish it.” He shook his head and, in one shot, drained his glass. “How disgustingly ironic.”
Geordi didn’t even look up, but asked, “What was she to you, Captain? If I may ask.”
“She was…” He paused, trying to find words. “She was a concept. A symbol. The idea of her came to mean more to me than the actuality of her. What she represented was so pure, but the reality was far from that. In the end I tried to make her into what I envisioned her to be, and what she could never be. And yet, in a way, she is. Was. She was everything I could have asked for. Unreachable. Untouchable. Always out there, guiding me onward. I seek to touch the stars, Mr. La Forge. To brush my fingers across them, and search out the mysteries they hide. She was all of that. All of that, and more.”
“You contradict yourself, Captain.”
“Very well then, I contradict myself,” replied Picard, the edges of his mouth crinkling slightly. “I am large. I contain multitudes.”
“Shakespeare?”
“Whitman.”
“Oh.” He paused. “He could have been writing about Delcara.”
“Yes,” said Picard. “Yes, he could.” He took another sip.
“I was the same way with Reannon,” Geordi said after a moment. “I wanted to reach her. I wanted to do things on her behalf. And in the end, I never was able to.”
“The woman was destroyed before you ever got to her, Geordi,” said Picard softly. “Reannon Bonaventure died years ago. You also had an image you were striving for, that could never be achieved. Which simply proves that lieutenants and captains can both share a blindness for simple reality.”
“Kind of a brutally hard knock against a quixotic view of life, isn’t it,” admitted Geordi. “The Borg are pretty damned big windmills to tilt with.”
“But they are giants, Geordi,” said Picard after a moment. “And in being caught up in the great turning arms of the Borg, we can be thrown down into the ground, or hurled upward to the stars. We all have our quests. And we do what we must, because it’s expected. Because we need to. Because we want to. Because—”
“Because of Dulcinea,” said Geordi, raising his glass.
Picard raised his in response. “To Dulcinea.”
“To more giants,” said Geordi. “And to more misadventures.”
“More adventures, old friend,” Picard gently corrected him, and smiled as they clinked glasses.
But the smile did not reach his eyes.
Chapter Thirty
&n
bsp; The universe was an infinity of maybes.
She held her breath. The pain was gone.
Just a few more minutes…
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Table of Contents
Introduction and Technical Notes
Overture
Chapter One
Act One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Intermission
Act Two
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Grand Finale
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty