by Peter David
And he would have to perform it no matter what the cost.
“The top speed of the Chance is warp six,” Data said, accessing his thorough memory of all ships in the registry. “There is little doubt that they are heading for the Forever World. Helm, set course for the Forever World, warp eight.”
“Course plotted and laid in, sir.”
“Engage,” said Data calmly.
The Enterprise leaped into warp space, and Data rose from the command chair. “Mr. Blair, come with me to the briefing room, please. We need to discuss worst-case strategy.”
Blair followed his commanding officer into the ready room, and Lamont at conn looked over to Tucker at Ops. “You know,” she said, “I don’t know which is preferable. Not knowing what’s going on…or finding out.”
“Approaching the Forever World, Commodore.”
Data had sat rigid and unmoving, staring intently at the screen, all of his considerable brainpower focused on the problem that awaited them. In an even more sedate tone than he usually used, he said, “Sensors. Is there another ship in orbit around the planet?”
“Negative,” said Margolin at tactical, but then he paused and said, “No…wait. There’s—”
The Enterprise was jolted slightly as they came within range of the time distortion ripples that were standard for the vicinity of the Forever World.
“—a ship in standard orbit,” continued Margolin. “Markings and registry indicate that it’s the Chance. Sorry about the confusion, sir. The time distortion ripples are especially—”
Once again the ship was knocked around, this time to a sufficient degree that automatic restraints snapped into place on the chairs of the bridge, holding the personnel firmly in their seats.
“—fierce,” Margolin persevered, as if the severe buffeting were only a minor inconvenience designed to slow down the dissemination of information. “It’s interfering with our sensors.”
“Compensate, Mr. Margolin. Give me a hailing frequency to the Chance.”
“You’re on, Commodore.”
“Chance, this is the USS Enterprise, please acknowledge.”
There was no response from the smaller ship. There was, however, continued pounding from the waves of time distortion, and Data could practically sense time slipping away from him—in more than one sense of the word.
A second hail brought continued radio silence, and now Data gave an order that even he didn’t quite believe. “Mr. Margolin,” he said quietly, “arm phasers.”
“Sir?” Margolin was thunderstruck.
They were all looking at Data with shock on their faces. Nevertheless, the commodore knew he had no choice. “Carry out my order, Mr. Margolin,” he said quietly.
“Yes, sir,” said Margolin hollowly. “Phasers armed and locked on target.”
“Mr. Blair, inform the transporter room that you and I will be beaming down to planet surface within two minutes. Attention Chance,” Data continued, raising his voice and thereby activating the comm link. “Our phasers are armed and locked on you. Unless you respond immediately, we will be forced, in this state of emergency, to fire on you. Acknowledge or suffer attack. Acknowledge.”
The intership radio crackled to life immediately. “Enterprise,” came an irritated gravelly voice, “this is Captain Tennant of the Chance. What in hell do you think you’re playing at?”
“I believe,” responded Data, “that the same could be asked of you, Captain.”
“We’re simply obeying orders,” shot back Tennant, “as part of a confidential mission, the contents of which I am not at liberty to disclose. Not even to one of the flagship vessels of the fleet.”
“Disclosing them would be pointless,” Data said. “I have no doubt that they are utter fabrication. I would assume radio silence is one of those orders. One moment, please.” Data turned to Margolin. “Are we within range of the Forever World yet?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Raise them…Captain Tennant,” Data continued the first conversation, “am I correct about the assumption of radio silence?”
“Yes, you are. And to be blunt, I’m jeopardizing the safety of that mission by conversing with you. But with the safety of my crew on the line, I decided to acknowledge your hail, in direct contradiction of my orders.”
“Excellent judgment, Captain,” said Data calmly. “Am I also correct in assuming that Admiral Riker is not there?”
“That is correct. He beamed down to the surface fifteen minutes ago. He told us to maintain orbit and radio silence.”
“That does not surprise me.”
“Sir,” said Margolin, “we’re unable to raise anyone on the surface.”
“That also does not surprise me. Transporter room, can you lock on any life-forms on the surface? If so, I want them all beamed up immediately.”
There was a pause as the transporter chief ran a quick scan. Then her voice came over the comm: “Negative, bridge. Readings are too sketchy. If someone is down there and gives us coordinates, that’s not a problem. But as it is, I’d be afraid to try and lock on and bring something up. I might get nothing at all, or maybe a puddle of protoplasm. There’s no predicting without solid confirmation.”
“Very well. Mr. Blair,” said Data, “with me.”
Data crossed quickly to the turbolift, Blair right behind him. Almost as an afterthought, Data called out, “Chance… maintain position. We will inform you if there is anything you can do.”
“Enterprise, would you mind telling us what’s going on?” came the voice of Captain Tennant. “Admiral Riker said that we were being commandeered as part of a top-secret mission for Starfleet. He even had orders—”
“I’m sure he did,” said Data. “I assure you, however, they were forged. You are on a mission, Chance… but it’s not on behalf of Starfleet. It’s on behalf of Admiral Riker.”
“What? What in hell is this about, Enterprise?”
“Don’t concern yourself about it, Captain Tennant. Whether the admiral’s mission succeeds or not…either way, you’ll never know. Enterprise out.” And then he cut the transmission rather than waste more time.
After all, the entire conversation might end up being moot.
When Data and Blair arrived on the planet’s surface, they discovered precisely what they thought they would find.
The bodies of the scientists were scattered about. A quick inspection revealed that they were alive, but clearly phaser-stunned. Riker must have secreted a small hand unit…perhaps several…on his person. He’d done it in such a way that Tennant hadn’t known…otherwise he’d certainly have let Enterprise know about it.
What tissue of lies had Riker constructed? Data wondered as he and Blair quickly made their way across the compound. Sindareen scheme? Romulan incursion? Or perhaps the Ferengii were up to their old tricks? There was no end to the possibilities that an inventive mind could conjure, and Riker’s mind was as inventive as anyone’s.
Data scanned the entire area and came to an immediate realization. “Mary Mac is not here.”
“Which means—”
“She’s with him,” concluded Data. “Odds are it’s an unwilling accompaniment.”
Above them the air swirled and crackled, and more than once lightning lanced across the sky. Data felt forces gathering around him, as if some massive, insane celestial experiment were in the works.
Quickly they ran through the compound, small bits of dirt and rock swirling around in whirlpools that moved, Data noticed, in opposite directions from one another. Somehow that seemed perfectly in keeping with the rest of the environment.
“He’s crazy,” Blair was muttering. “He’s completely crazy.”
“No, Mr. Blair,” Data replied, speeding up slightly. “He’s not crazy at all. He’s merely determined, and certain he is doing the right thing.”
The wind grew louder, and Blair raised his voice. “And what if he is? How do we know for sure?”
“We don’t. But we cannot take the chance.”
They raced to the top of an outcropping. Far, far in the distance, the ruins of the city were still there, as silent and unproviding of information as they had ever been. There below them was the Guardian of Forever.
The protective force field surrounding it was intact.
Riker, however, was on the inside.
So was Mary Mac. He had a firm grip on her wrist, but now she was struggling with the fierceness of her Orion heritage. Her teeth were bared, her fingernails flashing. Riker had been holding a tricorder, but it had clattered to the ground. Data saw that Riker needed both hands to keep off her savage onslaught.
She was shouting something that even Data, with his supersensitive hearing, couldn’t make out over the howling of the winds. And then Data also saw, on the large screen that had been erected nearby the Guardian, events being played out that were horribly familiar. There was Deanna Troi, on the floor of her quarters, writhing and gasping, and a terrified and confused Commander Riker leaning over her, looking more helpless than he ever had in his life. On the ground nearby, the fallen tricorder continued to record the information with precision.
Data gestured for Blair to follow and the two Starfleet officers made their way quickly down toward the Guardian.
Mary Mac swung Riker’s arm around and clamped down with her teeth. Riker howled in pain and slammed her in the face with as hard a punch as he could remember ever using. Mary Mac released her grip and staggered, wiping at the blood trickling down her mouth.
“You’ll destroy everything!” she shouted.
“This ‘everything’ has no right to be!”
“You’re not the one to make that decision!”
“Wrong! I’m the only one!”
She leaped at him again, a feral snarl ripping from her throat. Riker ducked and she sailed over him, and he stood quickly, catching her in midlunge. Before she could make a countermove, he deliberately threw himself backward and body-slammed her to the ground. He twisted quickly around while she was stunned and, giving it everything he had, slugged her on the side of the head. The green-skinned woman’s eyes rolled up into the back of her head, and she went limp.
Quickly Riker felt under her chin and checked her pulse. He wasn’t entirely sure what was normal for an Orion, but this felt strong and firm. Good enough.
He grabbed his fallen tricorder and forced himself to be dispassionate as he programmed it. Carefully, he began to calibrate the tricorder to the enlarged screen designed specifically to display the Guardian’s readouts. The tricorder would be able to measure the speed of the Guardian’s actual display against the time-delayed playback of specific moments as depicted on the screen. Once it was all fed in and cross-programmed, the tricorder would be able to tell him exactly when to jump through the portal.
There would still be no guarantee of 100 percent accuracy. But it was the only shot that Riker had. His determination was to try to leap through as close to the actual event as possible. He knew that the longer he was back in the Enterprise 1701-D, the more chance he had of affecting things he wanted to leave alone. So he had to bring himself as near to Deanna’s death as he could without missing it…while leaving himself enough time to do something about it.
His fingers flew over the tricorder’s controls, cross-referencing the two displays. He programmed in, basically, a countdown. When the correct moment was approaching, a small green light on the tricorder would snap on. The moment that happened, Riker had to leap through precisely five seconds later…a built-in delay factor, as he had calculated how long the actual, physical act of taking two steps forward and jumping through would require.
“Guardian!” he shouted. “The display I just witnessed—on my mark, begin again. Three…two…one…now!”
Images began to coruscate across the face of the Guardian of Forever. The same dizzying blur that Riker had seen before. The primary command had been simple: Riker had asked to see the history of the Enterprise. The Guardian had proceeded to show it—except that the display had begun with the first event that the Guardian had considered to be instrumental to the creation of the mighty starship. Unfortunately for Riker, that event had been the invention of fire. Images of beings that were barely recognizable as ancestors of humanity, clustered around a small pile of sparking wood, was hardly what Riker needed.
Fortunately enough, the Guardian was renowned for its speed. In an eyeblink Riker witnessed the creation of the wheel, the development of tools. They were wonders that, under other circumstances, Riker would have been spellbound to witness. As it was, he was merely impatient to get past them.
The tricorder’s programming had brought it on line as soon as the Guardian began the playback. It hummed along silently, matching and timing the display. Inside its circuitry, the countdown had begun.
Riker patted the vial that he had hidden in his jacket.
“Admiral!” came the shout from behind him.
Riker spun, and he saw Blair and Data approaching. For a moment he was startled and even frightened that they would stop him when he was so near to his goal…and that he would never get another opportunity. But then he remembered the force screen that was serenely in place. “It won’t do any good, Data!” Riker called. “My mind’s made up!”
Data and Blair came to a halt just on the other side of the force field. Blair’s thick fur was blown this way and that in the fierce windstorm that surrounded them. Data called out, “Is Mary Mac all right?”
Riker checked the Guardian. Leonardo da Vinci was stroking his chin thoughtfully, studying his designs for a primitive flying machine.
“She’s fine, Data! She was less than cooperative when I forced her, at phaser point, to open up the forcefield. I told her I’d just stun her and used her handprint and retina pattern even if she was semiconscious. She chose to remain conscious, hoping that she could talk me out of this. And when she realized she couldn’t, she seized a moment when I was distracted and tried to take me out. Damn near did, too,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck ruefully.
“Admiral, you must turn away from this destructive course.”
Riker glanced back at the Guardian. Alexander Graham Bell was just informing Watson that he needed him, and in an overlapping image, Thomas Edison was staring in wonderment at the glowing light in front of him.
“I’m going to save her, Data! For forty years, I’ve been eaten up by the thought that I should have done something! She begged me to…I promised that I would, and then all I did was stand there and watch her die!”
“She wouldn’t have wanted this, Admiral! You’re risking everything!”
“Don’t you remember, Data?” called back Riker. “The name of James Kirk’s autobiography?”
Data needed only a moment to recall it. “It was entitled Risk Is Our Business.”
“Damn right! I owe Deanna nothing less than to try everything! You hear me, Data? Nothing less!”
“Admiral, if you do not come out of there immediately, I shall order the Enterprise to open fire and use ship’s phasers to penetrate the force field! You may very well be destroyed if that happens!”
“And the Guardian might be as well!” shouted back Riker. He took a step toward the time gate. Seconds before, a Saturn V rocket had been lifting off. Now Zephram Cochrane was about to activate the first warp drive unit. “Would you do that, Data? Would you risk destroying the Guardian? Don’t you see, Data? You’ve longed to understand humanity! You’ve longed for a soul! Well, Mr. Data—the Guardian is the resting place of all the souls, throughout all time! It’s God’s window on eternity! Who are you to destroy it?”
And with icy calm, Data replied, “I have already contacted Starfleet, Admiral. Their orders were very specific. Protect the time stream, no matter what. Deanna Troi must die…and if it takes the destruction of God’s window, then who better, Admiral, to assume that responsibility? After all…I am not one of God’s creatures.” And Data angled his head upward and said, “Enterprise… target the shielding directly in front
of me. On my command…fire.”
“Don’t do it, Mr. Data!” called Riker with genuine pleading in his voice. “Don’t kill Deanna!”
“I did not kill her, Admiral. But if maintaining the integrity of the space-time continuum were at stake, I would take her life with my own hands. I would derive no satisfaction from it. Indeed, the counselor was as dear to me in my own way as she is to you in yours. But I am prepared to accept that her death is a requirement in the natural order of things, and to preserve that order, I will do whatever I have to do.”
Data had spoken with certainty and a sense of implacable decision. And Riker knew that lines had been drawn. “So will I, Mr. Data.”
“Enterprise,” said Data tonelessly. “Fire.”
From orbit, the mighty phasers of the Enterprise cut loose. They struck the force field directly above Riker’s head. The force field sparked and shimmered under the barrage, resisting the power of the weapons.
It was the strongest force field that Federation technology had to offer…on par with the deflector shields of the Enterprise herself. Furthermore, the Forever World had been equipped with its own heavy-duty defense array, protected by similar shields. If a hostile vessel had shown up, the scientists below could very easily have given a very formidable accounting of themselves—in all likelihood, blowing the attacking ship out of orbit.
But the Chance had not been a hostile vessel, and the renowned and esteemed Adm. William T. Riker was hardly considered to be a malevolent presence. It had been the scientists’ error to take Riker’s word that there was urgent Starfleet business to discuss.
By the time they had realized their mistake, it had been too late.