Star Trek-TNG-Novel-Imzadi 1

by Peter David

  "Now you see ... that's just how I felt a

  moment ago. Lovemaking, Will, is when two people

  voluntarily decide to give control over to the

  partner. I wasn't voluntarily relinquishing

  anything. So I needed to reclaim it, quickly."

  "You ... could simply have said no."

  She frowned at him. "I did."

  "No, you didn't."

  "I distinctly remember--"

  "You didn't. If you'd have said no, I'd have

  stopped." Slowly he sat up, still rubbing his

  sore middle. "That I can assure you."

  Her eyebrows knitted together, a puzzled

  expression on her face. "I was quite sure that

  I--"

  "You know what?" said Riker, pointing at her.

  "You may have thought you said it ... but you didn't.

  And maybe that's because you didn't really want to.

  For a moment there, you weren't resisting. As a

  matter of fact, you were pretty damned

  encouraging. I'll tell you something--y're so

  certain that you know my mind. Well, I don't

  even think you know your own."

  "Is that a fact?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, then, just answer me this. ..."

  He waited for the question. "Yeah?"

  "Do you want the dessert or not?"

  He shook his head in confusion. "That's the question?"

  Even she looked puzzled by it. "Yes."

  "No. No dessert, thanks. Between the filling

  meal and your knee, my stomach's pretty much

  finished for the afternoon."

  "Okay. Fine, then." Never taking her eyes

  off Riker, and regarding him with a very suspicious

  air ... probably because she wasn't sure herself

  how he was making her feel ... Deanna Troi

  ate Riker's dessert along with her own. Riker

  said nothing as he watched her do it.

  Finally he asked, "Have you met a lot of

  humans?"

  "A few. Mostly friends of my father."

  "Formed an opinion?"

  "Not especially. They're people, just like anyone

  else. Sweeping generalizations are rarely much

  use. I prefer a case-by-case

  diagnosis."

  "Spoken like a true student of psychology.

  So ... what are you going to do with your degree

  once you've gotten it?"

  "Do with it?" She shrugged. "I don't know.

  Probably nothing."

  He stared at her. "ationothing?"

  "Well ... knowing how the mind operates, and

  being able to talk to people ... these skills will certainly

  be helpful to me in my societal

  responsibilities. Far more so than

  geology would have been."

  "But ... but don't you want to forge a career?"

  "My life is my career. My

  responsibilities that are part and parcel of

  Betazed tradition. I'm not like you, w. Many

  aspects of my life are already set."

  "You know, I've had this conversation before," said

  Riker grimly. "With your mother. It's a shame you

  haven't got a mind of your own."

  "I have a mind of my own," shot back

  Deanna hotly. "It's hardly my fault if

  my opinion concurs with that of my mother, now, is

  it?"

  "You're right, you're right. I'm the poor dumb

  human who barely understands what's going through his own

  head, and you're the all-wise Betazoid who knows

  everything. Does that pretty much cover it?"

  Making a sound of great frustration, Deanna

  began shoving all the picnic materials back

  into the basket. "This was stupid," she muttered

  partly to herself. "I don't know why I let myself

  be talked into this."

  "Because you wanted to be talked into it."

  "Oh, nonsense."

  "You know what your problem is, Deanna?"

  "Yes. My problem is you."

  "No." He drew himself closer to her and

  hunkered down in front of her. When she wouldn't

  look at him, he took her pointed chin in his

  hands and brought her around to face him. "Your problem

  is that you overanalyze everything. You are so damned

  used to studying feelings, and thinking about feelings, and

  contemplating feelings, that you have no idea of how

  to just go with feelings."

  "And you," she shot back, pushing his hand away,

  "can only go with feelings. You're going to make

  some Starfleet officer, Lieutenant. Someone

  who's incapable of studying a situation and deciding

  what to do about it calmly and rationally. I bet

  you'll never ask anyone for their opinions. I

  bet you'll never look for suggestions. You'll just

  do what you want, when you want, on impulse,

  because your feelings tell you to do so, and you'll just

  drag the rest of the crew along with you. And heaven

  help them if you're wrong."

  He sat back on his heels. And looking

  somewhat stupid, he grinned. "You must really like

  me if you get that worked up over me."

  "Oh, you're intolerable."

  She picked up the picnic basket

  and started to walk, her large caftan swishing around

  her. Riker got to his feet and walked along

  next to her.

  "And I bet you don't believe in love at

  first sight," he said challengingly.

  She didn't even glance at him. "Now you're

  saying you love me?"

  "No, I'm not saying that. I'm asking about the

  idea in principle. Do you believe in love at

  first sight?"

  He fully expected that she would say no, just

  as Wendy had. So he was surprised when she

  slowly came to a halt and turned to look at him

  full in the face, her eyes large and thoughtful.

  Then she turned and walked off in another

  direction. Puzzled, he followed her.

  The terrain got more steep and hilly, and she

  put down the picnic basket and used her hands

  to help pull herself up. He followed her,

  unsure of what was happening, but reluctant

  to say or do anything that would possibly stop her.

  He wanted to see what she was up to.

  Eventually Deanna reached what appeared to be

  a peak, and she sat down carefully,

  meticulously arranging her caftan. Riker

  climbed up next to her, and his breath caught in his

  throat.

  It was a stunning vista. The view earlier

  paled in comparison. The sky was now pale

  orange, and hundreds of feet below a river

  ribboned between two high banks. Long, untamed

  blades of grass sprouted here and there, on the one

  hand appearing random, but on the other, adding to the

  overall look and feel of the place as if it had

  been carefully planned.

  "I like to come here to think. It's one of my

  favorite places."

  "What do you think about?"

  "Love at first sight." She paused.

  "Yes. I do believe in it."

  "Well, now, I must admit, I'm

  surprised. That's hardly the sign of a rational,

  nonimpulsive mind. Love at first sight is

  the ultimate leap of faith."

  "Nothing about it is particularly rational," she

  admitted. "I'd suppose
you'd say my

  rationale is more romantic than anything else."

  "And what's your rationale, may I ask?"

  At first she said nothing, as if trying to figure

  out the best way to put her thoughts. "I

  think that, to some degree, all of us are fractured

  souls. Cut in half. And we wander through life

  looking for the rest of ourselves. And sometimes we're

  fortunate enough to meet someone who possesses, in

  themselves, the part of ourselves that we've been missing.

  We may not realize it on a conscious level,

  but definitely on a subconscious level.

  We see in someone else ... something of ourselves."

  She held her hands up in front of her,

  palms facing each other. "That's why sometimes you

  meet someone and you just immediately feel comfortable with them.

  You feel like you've known them all your life. The

  reason is that they're a part of you, and you're a part

  of them. You're soul mates. You ... fit."

  She interlaced her fingers. "And once you've fit

  together, nothing can pull you apart unless you let go."

  She released her grip, drawing her hands apart.

  "And how did you develop this ..." He coughed

  politely. "This theory?"

  She smiled gamely. "It seemed the most

  reasonable explanation for why my parents came

  together. I mean, no rational being would have seen them as

  any sort of workable couple. Yet my mother

  claimed that the moment they met they just ... just

  knew." She shrugged. "So who knows?"

  "But that's kind of sad, really."

  "Why?" she asked, puzzled.

  "Because, since you're such a rational type, if

  you ever met your "soul mate,"' you'd probably

  intellectualize it to death. How could any sort

  of pure romantic notion stand up to being rationally

  disemboweled? You'd never follow your impulse."

  "Love at first sight is hardly the sort of

  thing that happens all the time. My attitude is

  different from yours. You always follow your impulse.

  And you have good impulses, I'm sure, by and

  large. You're very confident, and that's a

  requirement in your career. But it's not the kind of

  mind-set I'm used to. I doubt there's any

  sort of future for us."

  He slid closer to her and then said, "Change

  me."

  She stared at him. "What?"

  "You're studying to be a psychologist. The

  entire point of that is to help people. If you think

  I have some sort of emotional shortcomings, then you

  can try and do something about it."

  "I'm hardly a fully trained therapist,

  w. I'm not qualified. You'd be ... you'd be

  little more than a guinea pig. It wouldn't

  be ethical."

  "Why not? It's only unethical if you pass

  yourself off as something you're not. And I'm perfectly

  willing to be a guinea pig. Believe me, I

  doubt if anything you'd say or do could be any more

  grueling than officer training at Starfleet."

  He stuck out a hand. "What do you say?

  Deal?"

  She stared at him for a moment. "You're just hoping

  that this will afford you an opportunity down the road

  to make love to me."

  "That's right," he said without hesitation. "And

  you're hoping it will, too. Secretly, you're

  grateful for the chance to bring me "up"' to your

  level so that you can then feel better about allowing

  yourself to come "down"' to the more basic altitude of

  my level."

  He spoke with such conviction and such certainty that

  Deanna actually felt an unusual sensation

  ... her cheeks were burning.

  Riker noticed the flush in an instant and then

  said, using precisely the tone she had the other

  day, "I didn't read your mind. I hazarded a

  guess. All you did was confirm it."

  And he looked at her with such challenge in his

  eyes that she took his hand and squeezed it firmly

  ... so firmly that it left him numb for a few

  minutes as she said, "It's a deal. Prepare

  to be a guinea pig, Lieutenant Riker."

  "Miss Troi, point me to the maze."

  CHAPTER 18

  In a caf@e just outside the Federation

  embassy, Mark Roper sat down for breakfast.

  He studied the menu, then thought about what he'd like

  to have. Moments later, it arrived, courtesy of a

  smiling waitress, who knew that he would want

  nothing else, knew the name on his credit account,

  and went off to deduct from it not only the cost of his

  breakfast but how much he would want to tip her.

  To Mark Roper, it eliminated a lot of the

  fuss and bother of meals.

  A rap on the window of the caf@e next

  to Roper made him look up. Outside was

  Lieutenant Riker, looking pleasant and

  refreshed. Roper gestured for Riker to join him,

  and the youthful officer entered the caf@e and sat down

  across from him.

  "So how did it go with young Deanna

  yesterday?" asked Roper.

  "Very nicely. Very nicely."

  "Lwaxana was something else, I'll bet."

  "Oh, yes."

  "So tell me ... did you do it with

  Deanna?"

  Riker's whole body sagged in disbelief.

  "Mark ... what is this obsession with my sex

  life?"

  "I have none of my own," replied Roper a

  bit sadly. "I have to get my enjoyment

  vicariously."

  "May I suggest you find someone, and quickly.

  This is becoming a bit obsessive. Besides,

  aren't you concerned about how your daughter will react

  if I take up with Deanna?" And then

  Riker's eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute.

  That's it, isn't it."

  "That's what?"

  "You'd prefer if I became involved with

  Deanna because then you figure I'd stay away from

  your daughter."

  At that, Roper laughed loudly, so loudly that

  he started to cough. Finally, upon composing himself, he

  said, "Captain ... you're giving me motives

  that are far too Machiavellian. Whatever my

  daughter and you do is fine by me. Whatever you do with

  Deanna is fine by me. To be honest, whatever

  my daughter and Deanna did with each other would be

  fine by me. Although, I must admit, it'd be

  surprising as hell. I'm just curious, that's

  all."

  "Well, to satisfy your curiosity ..."

  "Nothing happened."

  "Right."

  "As a matter of fact," said Roper, leaning

  forward and pointing at Riker, "I'll bet that you

  put some moves on her, and you were shot down

  cold."

  "Well ..." Riker coughed politely. "As

  a matter of fact, yes."

  "Thought so."

  Riker looked puzzled at that. "Why did you

  think so?"

  "You're not Deanna's type. I know her,

  I know the kind of background she comes from. Her

  taste would run towards someone more intellectual--

  no offense."

  "None taken," said Riker, although he wasn't


  entirely sure how to react. "But

  I'm hardly a mental midget."

  "Oh, I didn't say that you were. Far from

  it. You're an extremely bright fellow. But you

  just don't think along the same lines she does.

  She's a gentle rainstorm, and you're lightning in

  a bottle. I doubt either of you would have the patience

  with the other to get anything going."

  "Actually, we're going to be seeing each other

  again. Tomorrow, in fact."

  "No!"

  "That's right."

  "Up to you, Captain. I just hope that you're not

  counting on Deanna to be the one who breaks your

  streak of celibacy while on this fair

  planet."

  "I have no intention of being celibate, Mark,"

  said Riker, leaning forward and dropping his voice.

  "And if you absolutely must know ... she

  definitely wants me."

  "Nonsense."

  "It's true. She just hasn't admitted it

  yet. But she'll come around."

  "When? On her deathbed?"

  "A lot sooner than that."

  "Never happen."

  "It will, Mark. Bet on it."

  Roper looked at him with mischief in his

  eyes. "All right. One hundred credits says

  you never "bbcome intimate"' with her."

  Riker laughed in disbelief. "Mark! I'd

  never bet on anything like that! It's ... it's

  crass, it's tasteless, it's ..."

  "Two hundred credits."

  "It's a bet."

  Roper raised a warning finger. "And no funny

  stuff. No getting her drunk. Has to be

  utterly mutual. You can't force her."

  "Force her! Mark, I've never "forced"' a

  woman in my life. Honestly, now. What do you

  take me for?"

  Roper patted the top of Riker's hand.

  "Captain ... I believe I've taken you for

  two hundred credits."

  CHAPTER 19

  The Betazed museum of art was a tall,

  impressive building, and extremely ornate.

  Deanna and Will stood outside as she explained

  to him the history of the structure, the

  design work and theory that had gone into it. She

  spoke at length for some minutes.

  Riker, for his part, was happy that she was once

  again wearing her hair down, and that the outfit she was

  wearing was more flattering to her figure. Much of what

  she said barely registered until finally she

  turned to him and said, "Why am I bothering?"

  "What?"

  "You don't seem at all interested in what

  I'm saying, w. I'm trying to explain to you why

  this building is, in andof itself, a work of art."

  "And I'm trying to explain to y, Deanna,