Imzadi Forever

by Peter David

  “Of course. But since you are here, and since you’ve already interfered…”

  “In for a penny, in for a pound? Is that it?” The admiral smiled humorlessly. “I wish it were that simple. I came here for one reason and one reason only: to save Deanna. Violating those regulations—taking the responsibility for a universe on my shoulders—was the second most difficult thing I’ve ever done…the first being when I had to leave you behind to be killed by the Romulans.”

  The last time Will had seen Picard as white as he was now was back when he’d been transformed into a Borg. “I’m…” His voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m killed by the Romulans?”

  “No, Jean-Luc. I made that up.”

  “You…” Picard looked at Will and Deanna, and then back to Riker. “You made that up? Why? Why would you joke about such a thing?”

  “It wasn’t a joke. It was to make a point. If I start talking about events—any events—beyond my immediate goal of saving Deanna, then I run the risk of saying the wrong thing. The slightest slip could end up changing the time stream beyond what I’ve already committed to. Making the initial decision was already enough of playing God for me. I’m not prepared, under any circumstance, to expand on it. What if I accidentally talk about someone on this ship—you, Worf, Beverly—in the past tense? Let slip that people I know now aren’t around forty years from now. Then they get to spend the next forty years, every time they run into any sort of difficult situation, wondering, ‘Is this it? Is this what results in my death?’ Or the other way around. What if I tell you, Jean-Luc, that in my time, you’re running Starfleet? That could result in your becoming overly confident. You could go into dangerous scenarios thinking that you’ll definitely get out of them because, hell, you know you’ll be around four decades hence. And as a result, you can get yourself, and everyone else, killed. Time is very malleable, Jean-Luc. And I’m just not going to mold the clay any further. I’m really very sorry.”

  The three younger officers looked at each other, and then Picard—drumming his fingers on the table—said, “If you don’t tell us the bare facts we need to know in order to handle the situation…then Deanna could still die.”

  Riker looked up at her grimly. “I know that, Jean-Luc, but the first time, there was no warning. Now…forewarned is forearmed. That will have to do for you. And I still have a few tricks up my sleeve. I just can’t show them to you, that’s all.”

  Riker sat down and folded his arms in a manner that made it quite clear he was not going to say anything further.

  Picard sighed. “Very well. I can’t say that I’m overly pleased with the situation. On the other hand…thanks to you…Counselor Troi is still alive. It would seem that I am going to have to hope that the instincts of the man whom I presently trust to be my second-in-command…are still present in the man who is also—at this moment in time—my superior officer.”

  Picard rose, and Riker stood with him. “I’ll need some sort of modern-day Starfleet uniform…and preferably some sort of disguise, so I can move about.”

  “What you will need, Admiral, is some reading material to keep you busy. I have no interest in marching you around the ship—I think the fewer people who see you, the better. These quarters are going to serve as your personal brig. The doors will be sealed with an override that only I can command, and guards will be posted outside. You are going nowhere, Admiral.”

  “You can’t do that!” said the admiral angrily. “There are things I can do that you can’t! Things I know to watch out for.”

  “Maybe,” said Picard. “Then again, maybe not. As you have made clear, time has already slipped into another stream. From here on in we are all of us improvising, Admiral, and to be blunt, I can tap-dance as well as you. You will stay safe and secure here so that I don’t have to worry about a random time factor running about my ship. You, Counselor,” he said to Deanna, “will go nowhere without Lieutenant Worf as a security escort.”

  “Won’t he question why you’ve given him that full-time assignment if, as far as he knows, the danger is past?” said the admiral.

  Picard, Will, and Troi looked at him in surprise.

  He grimaced in chagrin. “What was I thinking? Of course he won’t question: he’s a Klingon. Forgive me. It’s been a while since I dealt with…” He stopped. “Well…it’s been a while. Captain…believe me, you’re not pursuing the right course here. You’ve got to give me freedom to move.”

  “Number One,” said Picard calmly, “kindly check him for weapons.”

  The first officer went to Riker, who stood absolutely still, glowering at Picard. Will took off him the phaser he’d taken from the guard, as well as another, much more diminutive phaser that he found hidden in his jacket. Will held it up and whistled. “Small. What’ll they think of next?”

  “You’ll find out,” the admiral informed him dryly. “Jean-Luc…”

  “Save it, Admiral.” Picard tapped his communicator and summoned two security guards to be stationed outside Riker’s cabin. As they waited for the guards to arrive, no words were exchanged between the four of them…until finally Picard broke the silence and said, “Can you at least tell me…is there still a vessel named Enterprise?”

  At that, Riker smiled slightly. “Is it important for you to know that?”

  “I would like to.”

  “All right. The answer is yes,” said Riker quietly. “And she carries the name as nobly as her forebearers did. You…” He paused and then said, “You see? I was either going to say that you will be proud of her, or that you would have been proud of her. Very easy to make mistakes. Like the one you’re making by cooping me up in here.”

  “As with all mistakes, Admiral, we learn to live with them.”

  Riker looked at Deanna, his dry skin crinkling around the eyes. “Some of us never learn,” he said in a bittersweet voice. “And some of us will move heaven and earth to change things for the better.”

  She looked down, her cheeks reddening slightly. The admiral picked up on it immediately. “I’m sorry. I’m embarrassing you…because I’m being so overt about how I feel for you, and you’ve gotten used to the nice, easy, comfortable relationship we developed while on the ship.”

  She bobbed her head. “Yes,” she admitted.

  The admiral turned and slapped Will on the chest. “You idiot,” he admonished the surprised younger man. “You’re choosing the tidy, easy path instead of the more difficult but ultimately more rewarding path. You aren’t even smart enough to know when you have a good thing.” The admiral made a noise of utter disgust and dropped down into a chair.

  Picard, Will, and Troi slowly backed out of the quarters, leaving the sullen admiral to himself. Once in the corridor, they received the security guards, whom Picard instructed to stand outside and listen for signs of problems. If there were problems, they were to summon Captain Picard at once. They were not to enter under any circumstance. The guards nodded in obedience, if not in understanding, and then Picard issued an order to the computer to keep the doors sealed unless he himself should order them unsealed.

  They moved away from the guards, who had taken up their position outside the doors. “I apologize, Captain,” said Will. “And to you, too, Counselor.”

  Picard looked at him in surprise, as did Deanna. “Good heavens, Number One, why?”

  “Because of his attitude.”

  “Yes, but he’s not y—well, he is you, I suppose. But there are significant differences, Number One, not the least of which is years and experience. You shouldn’t feel badly.”

  “Well…I do. Seeing someone who is, to all intents and purposes, me, acting that way…”

  “I don’t know,” said Deanna with a shrug. “He didn’t seem so bad to me.”

  “You’re kidding,” said Will. “I don’t know…I mean…I know how much I owe him”—he looked at her—“for everything. But there was still something about him that just…just rubbed me the wrong way.”

  “But he’s what yo
u’ll become, Number One,” pointed out Picard. “You must have seen something of yourself in him.”

  “No,” said Riker firmly. “Very, very little. To be honest, he reminded me of…” Then he stopped.

  “Of who, Number One?”

  Riker sighed. “He reminded me of my father.”

  Deanna chuckled, and Riker shot her a look.

  “Yes, well,” said Picard, trying to hide his own smile, “be that as it may…due to the delicate situation that we’re in, we’re going to keep this on a need-to-know basis. However…there is someone whom I feel that it’s important to consult. Someone who should be able to afford some unique insight into our situation.”

  On the bridge, Data answered the signal on his communicator. “Commander Data here.”

  Over the comm unit came the familiar, clipped tone of Picard. “Mr. Data…I have a matter of some urgency to discuss with you. Please report to your quarters immediately.”

  “My quarters?” Data tilted his head in curiosity. “That is a rather unusual procedure, Captain.”

  “We’re in a rather unusual situation, Mr. Data.”

  “Very well, Captain,” said Data, standing. “I will be there directly.”

  Lieutenant Barclay was walking down the corridor, feeling disoriented, and he bumped shoulders with Data just as he passed the android officer’s cabin. Data looked at him curiously. “Lieutenant…are you quite all right?”

  “I’m…I’m fine, sir,” said Barclay hollowly.

  “Very well.” Data turned and walked into his cabin.

  Barclay sighed. He still didn’t know what to make of his holodeck experience. Perhaps…perhaps he simply needed some regular, normal R&R. Not something holodeck-generated. Some real experience instead. Otherwise…

  Well…was it possible that he was having difficulty separating fantasy from reality? Was he, in fact, totally losing touch with the world around him?

  No, he thought. It couldn’t be. It simply couldn’t…

  He turned a corner and bumped shoulders with Data.

  Barclay stepped back, gasping in confusion. “But…but…”

  Data stared at him, his yellow eyes glittering in curiosity. “Lieutenant, are you quite all right?”

  With an insane sense of déjà vu, Barclay stammered out, “I’m…I’m fine, sir.”

  “Very well,” said Data, taking him at his word and continuing on his way toward his cabin.

  Barclay’s head snapped back and forth like a yo-yo. Then he sagged against a wall and whimpered like a lost child.

  Data entered his cabin and said, “Captain?”

  The door closed behind him, but there was no sign of Picard. “Captain?” he said again.

  He sensed a presence behind himself and he spun…

  And a hand was already at his off-switch. He did not even manage to get a look at his assailant before he went limp.

  The gold-skinned intruder lowered the insensate android onto the bed and then stepped back. Then he turned and studied his reflection in the mirror.

  Perfect, of course. But then again, why shouldn’t he be? He was, after all, the same individual. He hadn’t aged a day. His body was the same, his brainpower undiminished. And his ability to mimic voices—in this case, Picard’s—had been invaluable.

  He tilted his head as a thought hit him. He had no recollection of this event ever occurring. But it had just happened in, effectively, his own past. How was it possible for something to have happened to him without his remembering it?

  For that matter, how could Admiral Riker be acting as if the entire notion of saving Deanna Troi was just occurring to him? If he had gone back in time to his own past, then he should be aware of everything that had already happened. But unless he was engaging in a massive subterfuge for Data’s benefit…

  No. Data didn’t think that was what was happening. The only thing that he could conceive of was that neither he nor Admiral Riker had any memory of the events because, to all intents and purposes, they hadn’t happened yet. Right here, right now, was where they were shaping all that was to come.

  Except all that was to come had already been shaped. Riker was trying to re-mold it to his own image. Data, on the other hand, had to try to preserve it.

  Deanna Troi could not live to affect the peace conference…no matter what was required.

  He removed the communicator from the unconscious Data’s uniform, removed the one that he had taken from the same supplies room that he had stolen the uniform from that he was now wearing, and affixed Data’s actual communicator to his uniform front. No point in leaving anything to chance.

  He tapped the communicator. “Computer,” he said briskly, “locate Counselor Deanna Troi.”

  For one moment he hoped that the computer would say, “Deanna Troi is in the morgue.” That would have simplified things immensely.

  Instead the computer said, “Deanna Troi is in her quarters.”

  Data nodded. Then he went to the unmoving form of Lieutenant Commander Data, made one small change to it as a safety precaution, and headed off to kill the ship’s counselor.

  Forty

  Picard had gone straight from Riker’s cabin to the Ten-Forward, and now he said in soft tones to Guinan, after telling her as much as he knew, “What do you think?”

  “What do I think? I think it’s possible,” Guinan allowed.

  “Would you know?” asked Picard. “If time had shifted around us…one way or the other…would you be aware of it? You’ve intimated in the past that you have a sensitivity for such things.”

  “A sensitivity, yes, but I’m not omniscient.” She had just poured Picard a drink and slid it over to him. Now she stared at her reflection in the glass. “Look…I live day to day, same as you, Captain. Same as anyone. Now if there’s a large enough disturbance in the space-time continuum…particularly when it has its origins in the past…I might be aware of it and be able to tell you that something’s wrong. But if it’s happening right here, right now”—she shook her head—“then I’m on the same roller coaster as you are, Captain. And all we can do is hold on.”

  He nodded. “For a moment I toyed with the notion of canceling the peace conference. After all, it would logically appear that an attempt on her life would be connected with the conference. Or I could have all the delegates questioned, or…” Then he shook his head in exasperation. “But now we enter the realm of temporal second-guessing. How far do I go, beyond guarding Deanna? If none of this had happened, then I would have no reason to take extraordinary measures. Which means that I really don’t have any reason now.”

  “Best to let matters proceed then,” said Guinan.

  Again Picard nodded. At that moment Data walked into the Ten-Forward. He looked around thoughtfully, then glanced up as Picard gestured for him to come over. Data took a place next to the captain, and politely nodded to Guinan.

  “A question, Captain,” said Data. “Why are Lieutenant Worf and three other security guards stationed around Counselor Troi’s quarters?”

  Picard glanced at Guinan and then lowered his glass. “I will tell you, Data, and will inform Commander Riker that you have been brought into our little circle of secrecy. But it is to go no further. Now the official reason is that an unknown assailant, presently in the brig, made an attempt on the counselor’s life. That much is, in fact, true. However, it’s quite a bit more involved than that…”

  Data, naturally, knew precisely how involved it was.

  He had gone to Troi’s quarters, and when he had seen the guards there…including a scowling Worf studying every passerby with intense scrutiny…he knew he had a problem. It was, of course, perfectly likely that he could force his way past Worf and the others. They were not expecting a friendly face to turn on them, and he could probably down them before they could mount a serious defense. Deanna would have been dead before any help could have been summoned, and once that happened, the currents of time would have pulled him—and presumably, Riker and Blair—back to the
ir own time.

  But to attack her so overtly would have exposed that there was more than one Data waltzing around on the Enterprise. Or even worse…what if the present Data were unable to convince the others that he had not, in fact, simply gone berserk? In one scenario, they would have come to the realization that Data still existed in the future…and that knowledge could have serious consequences. On the other hand, if they simply decided that their own Data had become unreliable, or even dangerous, they might conclude that the only reasonable course of action was to deactivate or dismantle him. If they did that…

  Then what?

  Would he, the Data of the future, then cease to exist? And if he didn’t exist, then who would go back to stop Admiral Riker? But if he didn’t exist to come back to try to stop Admiral Riker, then how could he possibly kill Deanna Troi and set in motion the events that could get himself shut off? And who…?

  It was this sort of self-involving confusion that had once prompted Geordi LaForge to declare, during one such discussion of a theoretical paradox, “This is precisely why time travel gives me nosebleeds.”

  Data didn’t have a nosebleed. Data had a situation.

  But one way to remedy that situation was to get himself “officially” brought into the information loop. Which was precisely what he was doing now.

  And once he had that information, it was just a matter of determining the most effective way to proceed.

  Forty-one

  There had been one change of security guards since the captain ordered the guard. Worf, however, had remained. This did not surprise anyone. In similar situations, Worf had displayed stamina that was, quite simply, inhuman.

  As a result, when Will Riker approached, Worf turned to him with just as fierce a protective glare as he had possessed since he’d first taken his post.