Star Trek-TNG-Novel-Imzadi 1

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Star Trek-TNG-Novel-Imzadi 1 Page 24

by Peter David


  over your head! You got that? Just do it! Or I

  swear I'll kill her. I swear!"

  Don't listen to him, Will, he heard in his

  head. Don't do what he wants. He'll

  kill you.

  "Kill her," said Riker evenly, "and you'll

  have nothing to bargain with."

  "I don't care whether she lives or

  dies!" shot back Maror. "If you don't

  care either, then that's that. So I kill her, put

  my hands over my head, and surrender. You won't

  be able to do a damned thing except turn me over

  to the authorities. And she'll be dead. Now if

  that little scenario doesn't bother you, then fine!

  Or maybe you just want to take a whack at

  shooting the both of us. But I don't stun easy,

  Lieutenant! You'll probably fry her while

  you're trying to knock me out. And if you fail

  to stun me, then I'll kill her anyway. From

  where I sit, you don't have a hell of a lot of

  choices!"

  "I have plenty of choices."

  "No, you don't! I know that and you know that!" His

  voice went up in register, his barely restrained

  panic starting to overwhelm him. "Now throw down the

  weapon! Come on! Do it! Throw it down or

  I'll kill her, I swear I will, now do it,

  throw it down, throw it down now or she's dead

  right now!"

  "All right!" And Riker tossed the phaser

  to one side. It clattered away, out of sight.

  Deanna sagged against Maror, her thoughts

  black.

  "The jacket, too! You might have some weapons

  hidden. And the belt! Slowly! Keep your hands in

  sight! So much as one twitch and she's dead. Her

  life's in your hands now, Lieutenant. Yrsffwas

  Carefully, making no sudden moves, Riker

  slid the jacket off. Then he reached around and

  undid the fastening on the belt. He ran it

  slowly through his hands, saying, "See? Nothing on

  it. I don't have any other weapons." Then he

  dropped the belt to the ground.

  Grinning, Maror raised his weapon and took

  dead aim at Riker. But to Maror's

  surprise, Riker remained as calm as if he

  had the upper hand and said, "Now lay down your

  weapon and no one will hurt you."

  "You've got to be kidding me."

  "No, I'm not kidding you. You see ... you're

  surrounded."

  For the briefest of moments, Maror seemed

  confused. Then, firming up his convictions, he said

  defiantly, "You're lying! This is just some ...

  some pathetic bluff!"

  "No bluff. There are Starfleet people on either

  side of you. And although they're trained to give

  innocents priorities, they're also trained

  to protect ranking officers. Put down your

  weapon now, and you won't be injured. But if you

  take any offensive action against me, my men will

  shoot. Even if it means injuring or killing your

  hostage. They will endeavor to save my life over

  hers."

  "You can't fool me. That's against Starfleet

  policy," Maror snarled.

  "True. But security men sometimes follow their

  own dictates. And frankly, you're not in a

  position right now to question their priorities."

  Maror was silent for a long moment. Then he

  stood and hauled Deanna to her feet, shoving the

  blaster against her.

  "I think," he said slowly, "that you are

  bluff+. I think that all of you split up in

  order to cover more ground. This is a very, very big

  jungle. Oh, you may be in communication with them,

  but there's no way that they can possibly be close

  enough to make any sort of difference. In fact,

  it'd probably take you a couple of days

  to rendezvous with them, seeing how much time has gone

  by. And so I'm calling your bluff,

  Lieutenant. Tell them to shoot. Go ahead."

  "This is your last warning," said Riker sternly.

  "I know. I'll chance it."

  Riker looked bleakly at Deanna and said,

  "I'm sorry." And then, suddenly, he spread

  his hands wide and shouted, "All right, men!

  Fireffwas

  For a second there was nothing, and then, to his

  shock, Maror caught movement out of the corner of

  his eye, to his right. He snapped his weapon around

  and fired, and then he saw something over to his

  left. He spun, not sure where to look first.

  He had been so certain that Riker was alone, and

  now there was movement behind--

  The distraction was all that Riker had wanted,

  all that he had time for. Without hesitation he took

  two quick steps and leaped off the slope, arms

  outstretched, directly toward Maror.

  Maror looked up in alarm, realized his

  error, swung his blaster around, and fired.

  Deanna chose that moment to shove upward and

  back, and the sudden movement sent Maror's shot

  wide, just missing the fast-moving Riker.

  Riker plowed into Maror, pushing

  Deanna clear with one hand while grabbing at

  Maror with his other. The two of them went down,

  rolling and shoving, struggling desperately, each of

  them trying to get leverage.

  "Will!" shouted Deanna, for Maror had

  temporarily gotten the upper hand and was now trying

  to bring his weapon to bear on the Starfleet officer.

  She ran toward them and grabbed at Maror,

  trying to yank him off Riker. Maror rammed the

  stock of his blaster back, slamming Deanna in

  the stomach. She went down, gasping and retching, the

  agony threatening to overwhelm her.

  It was all the delay Riker needed. He

  swung his hands up and boxed Maror on either side

  of the throat, at the base of the nictating

  membranes that served as his vocal apparatus.

  It was the equivalent of slamming a punch to the

  Adam's apple in a humanoid.

  Maror gagged, his breath momentarily cut off,

  but his strength was still far superior to Riker's. So

  when Riker got his hands on the blaster, Maror was

  still able to hold on to it as his injured membranes

  fought to regain their equilibrium.

  The combatants shoved against one another, pitting

  their full weight and strength, grunting and growling

  low and incomprehensible noises. A twist, a

  turn, jockeying for position, and Riker managed

  to get his feet planted. With a quick twist of his

  hip he slammed Maror up against a tree with a

  bone-jarring jolt.

  Maror lost his grip on his blaster, and it

  clattered to the ground at his feet. Riker had a

  split instant to make a decision. He released

  his grip on Maror, gambling on his speed and the

  damage he'd inflicted on the Sindareen thus

  far, and lunged for the blaster.

  It was the wrong move. Maror's foot lashed

  out, kicking the blaster away into the underbrush.

  Riker was off-balance, and Maror drove his foot

  up into Riker's face.

  Riker went down, rolling, tasting his blood

  welling up in his mouth. Ma
ror came after him,

  kicking furiously, Riker just barely staying

  ahead of him.

  Riker managed to scramble to his feet, and

  Maror came in fast. Riker braced to meet the

  charge, his back against a tree, and only at the

  last moment did he see the knife flashing in

  Maror's hand. Where he'd pulled it from, Riker

  hadn't a clue ... probably he'd

  kept it secreted up his sleeve.

  Riker immediately switched tactics, twisting and

  just barely avoiding the slashing attack. The

  blade sank into the tree trunk. Riker's hands

  swept up and he slammed his head forward, his

  forehead cracking against Maror's face.

  Maror fell back toward some brush ...

  And his questing hand came up with the blaster that had

  been knocked over there.

  Riker dove for cover as the blaster bolt

  sizzled over his head. Maror pivoted, dodging

  to the right to try to get a clear shot at Riker.

  And Riker saw where Maror was heading.

  "Wait!" shouted Riker. "Stop! Don't go

  there! Don't move!"

  Maror, his voice returning, cackled, "Why

  not, Federation man? Because this will give me the best

  angle to turn you into a sack of boneless skin?

  Or maybe security men lie in wait for me?

  I'm tired of your bluffso, Lieutenant! I'm

  tired of you!"

  Maror leaped to his right, landing with an odd

  squishing noise, and aimed his blaster at Riker,

  whose hiding place was now fully exposed.

  Incredibly, Riker had not given up the

  apparent pretense that he somehow had the upper hand.

  In what seemed a masterpiece of acting, Riker

  shouted, "Move! Before it's too late!" and he

  waved his hands wildly.

  "The one who it's too late for is--"

  And that was when Maror realized that he was getting

  shorter.

  He looked down.

  He was standing squarely in one of the infamous

  Jalara Jungle mud pits.

  He knew what they looked like. Yesterday a

  small animal he'd been chasing for food ran

  headlong into one and had sunk from sight in a little under

  two seconds.

  From the speed with which Maror was vanishing into the

  dark, pasty nonsoil, it appeared that larger

  creatures, such as humanoids, took a bit

  longer. Like, five seconds.

  He looked back up and finished the sentence with

  slow realization. "Is me," he said as the mud

  crept up to his shoulders.

  Riker scurried forward, arm outstretched,

  watching for the edges of the mud pit so that he didn't

  slip in. "Hold on!" he shouted.

  Maror actually seemed amused.

  "To what?"

  That was the last thing he was able to say as the mud

  covered his throat. Riker got to the edge of the

  pit, which he could discern by the dark rim, and reached

  out, trying to grab at Maror's hair. But

  Maror was just beyond Riker's grasp, and then five

  seconds were gone ... and so was Maror. He

  vanished beneath the surface of the mud pit without a

  trace.

  And insanely, Maror's final expression had

  been one of quiet triumph.

  CHAPTER 26

  Riker went to Deanna and saw how she was staring

  at the center of the mud pit. In a low whisper,

  she said, "He won. He was never caught."

  "Are you all right?" asked Riker, taking her

  by the shoulders. "Did he hurt you?"

  "I'm fine." She got to her feet, pausing

  only to nurse the dull ache in her stomach.

  "I'm fine. I want to get out of here."

  "All right. Let's just wait a few minutes

  until--"

  "No. Now." There was an urgency in her

  voice, a desperation to try to distance herself as much as

  possible from the site of these events.

  "Okay. Let me just get my equipment

  together."

  She nodded, her gaze never wavering from the mud

  pit.

  Riker quickly got his jacket and belt and

  retrieved his phaser from where he'd tossed it.

  Then he tapped a small button on one of the

  belt compartments, and Deanna blinked in

  surprise as two small diamond-shaped

  objects shot past her. "What are those?"

  "Target-practice devices. Standard

  issue for ground-based security personnel.

  They're what I used to distract Maror."

  "Oh." She nodded, and her voice sounded very

  distant. "That was quite clever, w. Quite clever."

  He stared at her. "Are you sure you're all

  right?"

  "Positive. Let's go."

  Riker didn't say anything further, but

  simply guided her gently away from the mud pit

  site. He studied her bedraggled condition and,

  insanely, still couldn't help but think how good she

  looked despite her ordeal. She

  seemed to have an endless reserve of inner strength.

  Once they began walking, Riker contacted

  Tang. Maror had indeed been correct in his

  guess. Riker and the various members of the

  security crew had split up, the better

  to cover the vast distances of the jungle. It had been

  Riker who was fortunate enough, after several days of

  searching, to detect the life readings of Deanna

  and Maror using his tricorder.

  He informed Tang that Deanna had indeed been

  recovered (he avoided using the ^w rescued

  ... it sounded melodramatic somehow) and that they

  would now be heading toward the rendezvous point. It

  would take a few days to get there, but Riker was still

  well stocked with provisions, and no abnormal

  delays were anticipated.

  Riker had been preoccupied with his mission

  throughout the past few days and had not paid all that much

  attention to the jungle, other than to avoid its

  pitfalls or obstructions. His judicious use

  of a phaser to carve himself a path now served him in

  good stead, making it that much easier for him to make his

  way back ... even if the tricorder weren't

  capable of enabling him to retrace his steps.

  With the pressure off, he was really able to take

  notice of the true beauty of the Jalara

  Jungle. He realized now that the flowers and

  vines that had decorated the interior of the wedding

  chapel must have been taken from the jungle. The

  flowers and growths were exotic combinations of

  colors. The air was warm, even steamy, without being

  irritatingly humid. It was filled with a scented

  mist that was invigorating, or perhaps simply

  smelled all the sweeter with Deanna's

  freedom now a reality.

  He turned and looked to Deanna, who had

  been extremely silent for the past half hour.

  She was shivering. Her arms were wrapped around

  herself, and there, in the midst of a warm jungle, she

  was shivering. Her teeth were chattering.

  Immediately he knew what was happening. All

  during the time when she was in danger, she had

  managed to keep everything bottled up. She
had

  detached herself from the fear and uncertainty, from the

  terror that must have accompanied every moment. Such

  feelings could be repressed or ignored for the

  duration of a crisis. But sooner or later they

  would come roaring back and would have to be dealt with.

  He went to her and put his arms around her,

  settling her into a seated position.

  "Shh. It's okay. Let it out, Deanna.

  That's all right."

  She trembled more violently, staring not at

  Riker but straight ahead, as if she expected

  someone or something to come at her from the underbrush. Her

  hand clamped onto his upper arm, her fingernails

  digging into the skin with such fierceness that Riker had

  to stifle the impulse to push her hand away. As it

  was, he kept his mouth shut, not letting on that it

  hurt like hell.

  He stroked her face, continuing to make soft,

  comforting noises. Letting her know that it was okay

  to be frightened. Reminding her that she wasn't

  alone. Telling her that everything was going to be all

  right, that she was out of danger and soon all of this would

  just be a distant, bad dream.

  As he spoke, she drew herself closer to him,

  pressing against him and readjusting his arms so that he

  completely enveloped her. The quaking still convulsed

  her body, and her lower lip trembled. Tears

  rolled down her face, but she did not cry out

  loud. Her complete silence was almost eerie.

  He didn't say anything further. He

  merely rocked with her, back and forth, gently,

  letting his mere presence be something from which she could

  draw reassurance. And slowly, ever so slowly,

  the trembling diminished and eventually stopped. The

  tears ceased, and then she brought her hand up and

  wiped away the remainder of the moisture.

  Then she looked up at Riker. He smiled

  down at her and, wondering if she was prepared

  to move on, said, "Ready?"

  She nodded. "Yes. Yes, I am." She

  reached up, wrapped her hand around the back of his

  head, and drew his face to hers.

  The kiss was very long and very sweet and filled with

  promise. Their lips parted and he looked at

  her, the jungle air making him feel giddy.

  There was an unreality to it all. Going native

  was the old phrase.

  "Deanna," he said, his voice low. "This

  ... this isn't right. This isn't the time. You aren't

  thinking straight, you've been through a lot, you--"

  "Let me"--she held his face in her hands--

  "let me put this to you in a way that I know you'll

 

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