by Peter David
“Hope you’re keeping your nose clean, Barclay,” Riker warned him.
“Good morning, Barclay,” said Data’s head. “You look much more relaxed today.”
Then the turbolift hissed shut.
“Thank you, sir,” was all Barclay managed to say, before he mercifully passed out.
Deanna Troi and her escort started down the hallway. Data had already determined how he would pin the blame on Lore, thus leaving his own time line unaffected. Now he studied her long neck, trying to decide what would be the most painless method of disposing of her. For some reason, now that the moment would shortly be at hand…he felt…
Reluctant.
But his duty was clear.
In the conference room, Riker suddenly jumped as if someone had jammed a rod into his back.
He had done so right as Nici began to make her opening remarks, and she looked at him with stern disapproval.
“Commander?” said Picard.
“Data said he’s calling for her.” He turned to face Picard and looked as if he’d seen a ghost.
Picard was at a loss, but he saw the consternation of his first officer. “I know, Number One. You told me th—”
Riker’s voice became louder. “You don’t understand, Captain! That’s exactly what Data said. ‘He’s calling.’ He said ‘he’s.’ Several times! He used contractions!”
“But Data doesn’t use—”
Immediately both officers were on their feet, but Riker was nearer the exit. The ambassadors were babbling in utter confusion as Riker bolted out the door.
He saw them, just turning the corner of the corridor.
As if from a separation of years, he shouted, “Deanna! It’s a trap!”
Troi spun, his words and his mind reaching out to her and warning her.
Data, aware that he had been found out, drew back his fist, and Troi saw it just as she turned. He stepped forward and drove his fist straight toward her face.
With a cry of alarm, Deanna dropped back. Data’s fist whistled bare inches from her face and smashed into a wall, going in with such force that his arm penetrated up to his elbow.
Deanna tried to run, but Data lashed out with one of his feet and tripped her up. She fell with a cry, and Will charged forward, bringing his phaser up.
With the hand that had already entered the wall, Data ripped out a huge chunk and hurled it directly at Riker. Riker dodged it, and as the twisted metal thudded to the ground in back of him, Riker fired the phaser.
Data moved with blinding speed and grabbed at the phaser that Riker was holding. Taking a desperate gamble, knowing that he couldn’t match Data’s superior strength, Riker relaxed his grip and instead shot his hand out toward Data’s off-switch.
It wasn’t there.
“I had it disconnected, Commander,” said Data, sounding almost apologetic. “It became a nuisance.” Data’s fingers wrapped around the phaser and squeezed, and Riker had to release his grip or risk his hand getting crushed along with it.
Data dropped the twisted metal to the ground, then picked up Riker and hurled him against the far wall. Riker crashed into it and slumped to the ground, dazed.
Picard came from nowhere, hurtling through the air and grabbing Data from behind. Data reached around, grabbing the captain’s arm and twisting it around and back. Picard cried out, but that didn’t stop him from slamming his free hand up into Data’s face. The resulting injury was severe…but not for Data. Picard, however, sprained his hand.
“I’m doing this for you, Captain,” said Data, sounding almost remorseful. “If I had any choice, I’d do anything else.” And he lifted Picard completely off his feet, about to hurl him into the ambassadors who were flooding into the hallway. They fell back, trying to get out of the way.
And Will Riker, pushing off from the wall, charged and tackled Data around the legs. It knocked the android off balance, and he lost his grip on Picard, who tumbled down on top of him.
“Stop it!” Deanna was shouting. “Stop it!”
Picard and Riker each grabbed an arm, trying to pin Data. It didn’t work. With his superior strength, Data twisted around, lifting Riker clear and crushing him against Picard. Data started to get to his feet.
All the ambassadors were shouting at once.
Data was turning his attention to Deanna.
Riker, indomitable, was grabbing at Data’s leg, trying to slow him down. Picard, using the wall for support, was pulling himself to his feet.
Everywhere there was confusion, chaos, raw emotions running rampant…
And that was when Deanna Troi pointed at the Sindareen delegation.
“They’re deceiving us!” she cried out.
Time froze.
“It’s a lie!” said Nici with amazing calm.
“No,” said Deanna, her voice building in intensity. “No, it’s not a lie.”
“Shut up,” Eza now said, looking to Nici. “Make her shut up.”
“I sense that you want him”—she pointed at Data—“to succeed. You…you did not come here in good faith. I sense duplicity…lies, cheats, anything to stall for time for the Sindareen.”
“This is madness,” Nici snarled, louder and angrier.
But Deanna ignored her, whirling on Eza. “And you! You want me dead! You’d do anything to see me dead. You…you tried! You tried to kill me! Put something in the drink…I sense your emotions, homicidal, murderous.”
The air around them seemed to be shifting, coming to life somehow. There was a crackling of energy that seemed to come from nowhere…
And Eza howled, “You empathic bitch! You’ve ruined everything!”
From his sleeve he produced a small phaser, smaller than almost anyone had ever seen.
He had a clear shot at Deanna. He wasn’t going to miss.
And suddenly, arcing through the air over Deanna’s head, came a tumbling, golden object. It struck Eza squarely in the chest, knocking him backward. The phaser fired but the shot went wide, striking the ceiling over Deanna’s head.
The golden object skittered across the floor and rolled up to Deanna’s feet. She looked down in astonishment at Data’s face. “I suggest you drop to the floor, Counselor.”
Deanna was still staring in confusion at Data’s head, presenting a perfect target. A split second later, Data’s body slammed into her from behind, knocking her to the floor next to Data’s profusely apologizing head. However, his apologies were drowned out by the phaser beam that crackled over them. It enveloped Eza, staggering him, and he screeched in protest.
Adm. William T. Riker advanced on him slowly, inexorably, the power blasting out of his phaser. “Stay down, Deanna. It still takes a lot of phaser power to put these bastards down for the count.”
“Bastards!” shrieked Nici in indignation. “Captain Picard, I object to being described in—”
“Be quiet!” snapped Picard.
Eza writhed in the power of the phaser. He lost his grip on his own phaser and it tumbled to the floor, but so consumed with fury was he that he still tried to make headway against the blast.
“You’re from my time, aren’t you,” said the admiral, progressing relentlessly. “That’s the only place you could have gotten that weapon. You’re from the time stream that was…and will be again. You decided that this point in time was the turning point for your people—was the downfall of your race—and you decided to come back and change it to your liking. Kill the woman who blew the whistle on your people. And in one reality, you got away with it. But not in my reality, you murderer. Not in my reality! Because you picked the wrong focal point!”
Around Eza the scream of the phaser merged with the howling of the air, and he was knocked completely off his feet, thrown against the wall like a straw in a hurricane. He sagged to the floor, unconscious and helpless.
And then the air around them was roaring. Roaring with far-off winds that seemed to call from another time and place, from an infinity of maybes. A coruscating, sparkling whirlpool of c
olor and light.
Eza was starting to dematerialize, his very molecules being drawn into the vortex around them.
And Will Riker suddenly lost his grip on Data. For a panicked moment he thought that the android had slipped loose and was going to make one final, desperate lunge for Deanna. But he realized his error immediately. Data was starting to fade. Will’s hands were passing through him.
Deanna whirled to face the admiral.
He, too, was being drawn off. The color seemed to be fading from him, as if being yanked away.
“Deanna!” he called to her, reaching out.
Heedless of the danger to herself, Deanna Troi stretched out her hand to the man who had crossed decades, remodeled the universe, all for her.
Her hand passed right through him, as if he were a ghost. The ghost of things yet to come.
His body started to flatten out, twisting from three dimensions to two and then one.
“I’m sorry!” she cried out to him. “I tried…to touch you one last time.”
He smiled, his body disappearing like the Cheshire cat’s. His voice sounded distant as he said, “Don’t be. Maybe it won’t be the last time. Besides…who really cares about all this physical touching. Not young Deanna Troi. It’s the spiritual that’s important…that’s forever…”
And then, with a final roar and burst of wind that swept over everyone in the corridor…
He was gone.
Forty-three
“Come in,” said Deanna as the tone at her door chimed.
Riker entered, his hands behind his back. He stopped as the door closed behind him. “Are you okay?”
She shut off the computer screen she was studying, folded her hands, and said, “Why shouldn’t I be okay?”
“Well…you went through a lot.”
“We both did,” she reminded him. “But that was twenty-four hours ago. I bounce back quickly, given time.”
“Given time.”
He walked slowly toward her. “I thought you’d be interested…the Chameloid disappeared about the same time as…the others.”
“I assumed as much,” she said quietly.
“The Sindareen ambassador has been sent packing. She’s not particularly happy about it. The peace initiative has fallen apart, and the experts predict that it’s just a matter of time now before the entire Sindareen civilization collapses. There’s already talk about how the Federation might come in to pick up the pieces if that happens.”
“That would be very humane.”
“Oh, and Data has his head together…so to speak. It turns out that I…that the admiral told him that this other Data—the one who tried to kill you—was actually Lore.”
“And was it?”
Riker paused. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I know Data believes it to be. I think he is far more…satisfied…with the notion that it was Lore than he would be with the concept that there would be a circumstance in which he’d try to murder you.”
“We have no idea what influences will shape Data over the next forty years,” she said slowly. “For all we know, given a set of circumstances where the life of one woman is weighed against the reality that he knows…he might very well decide that that woman is dispensable.”
“Even if the woman is you?”
“Even if. And frankly…I’d understand his decision.”
“Yes…but maybe he wouldn’t understand. That’s a hell of a thing for him to have to live with. So maybe it would be better if we…”
“Kept it between ourselves?”
He nodded.
“Consider it kept.” She leaned back. “So…did you come here to discuss everything except what you really want to discuss?”
“And what might that be?”
“Us.”
He let out a slow breath. She waited for him to speak.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen with us,” he said. “I saw what my life was like without you…saw what I developed into. I can’t say I like it very much. But…that was when you had been pulled from my life completely. We could continue in the way that we are now, and as long as you’re there to be friend, confidant…soul mate…things could work out well for both of us.”
“I see what you’re saying,” Deanna said slowly. “Of course, on the other hand, if we become…or go back to being…lovers…things could work out even better for us.”
“Or worse,” he pointed out.
“Or worse,” she acknowledged.
He shook his head. “I feel so ridiculous. Do we really have to wait forty years until we’re ready to take a chance on the two of us?”
“No, Will”—she smiled—“we just have to wait until we’re ready. It might take forty years. Or who knows? It might take forty days. We have to wait and see. But at least we have a chance. It’s up to us how we use it.”
He nodded and then said, “Oh…by the way…I made something for you. It’s only an approximation, of course, based on my memories…memories which were filled, at the time, with the sight of a particularly nubile young maid of honor and her magnificent figure.”
Her face colored slightly. “Will, what are you talking about?”
He brought his hand from behind his back. In it was a thin, white, gauze headband.
She stared at it, uncomprehendingly at first. But then she understood. “That’s…that’s like the one Chandra wore!”
“So I did make it close enough so that it’s recognizable. Good. Um…if you wouldn’t mind turning your head…”
She angled her head around and he looped it around and back, pulling her hair through. She stood and presented herself for inspection. “How does it look?”
“As beautiful as the woman wearing it.”
She felt her emotions turning to melted butter, and she went to him. He enveloped her in his arms, and their lips came together….
And for a long moment, all the confusion and complexity of their lives fell away, and they were once again the young man and woman hungering for each other; the couple shyly learning about one another and exploring the things that each of them lacked and each of them provided; the new lovers in the jungle, intoxicated with their environment and each other; she was the woman whose life he’d saved, and he was the man whose life she had made.
And they had all the time in the universe….
The Beginning
of the
End
Triangle:
Imzadi II
Forty-four
Mary Mac watched in astonishment as four people emerged from the swirling vortex of the Guardian of Forever: Admiral Riker, Commodore Data, Lieutenant Blair, and one more form that tumbled forward, clearly unconscious.
She went to them, rolling the body over to get a better look and confirm what she had thought. “This…this is Mar Loc!”
Data looked at her, his head tilted. “The scientist whom you said had departed?”
She nodded in silent amazement.
And then the Guardian spoke, in that vast and all-encompassing way that it had: “All is…as it was.”
Data turned to face the Guardian. “You mean that Admiral Riker did indeed restore the time line to its original form?”
“All is as it was,” repeated the portal.
And now Blair stepped forward, his long fur swirling. “For crying out loud,” he shouted, “if you knew that time had been tampered with in the first place, and you knew that the admiral’s actions were correct…then why in hell didn’t you tell us that?!”
With utter serenity, the Guardian replied, “You did not ask.”
There was dead silence, except for the howling of the wind, for about ten seconds. And then Blair managed to get out, “We didn’t ask?”
Riker started to laugh.
“We didn’t ask!” Blair sounded positively outraged. “You mean everything we went through, all the difficult decisions we had to make, all the…we didn’t ask!”
“We didn’t,” said Data in quiet amazement. “Tha
t was very foolish of me. In my determination to uphold the Starfleet imperative of noninterference with time, I…”
And Riker, who had managed to calm himself down sufficiently, said, “What you did, Data, is forget the very first duty of Starfleet…something that I started thinking about when I was spending time with Capt. Wesley Crusher, and remembering the hard lesson he learned back in his Academy days. The duty that supersedes all the imperatives and directives…”
“That we must always seek the truth,” said Data.
“Right. And the truth,” said Riker, hauling the unconscious Mar Loc, a.k.a. Eza, to his feet, “is that this little sleaze decided to make his people’s life better. Mary Mac…have you had any unexplained bruises in recent weeks?”
“Why…why yes,” she said, looking at Data. “Remember, Commodore? I had a round bruise on my upper arm.”
“A spray-hypo mark,” said Riker. “Press down too hard, you leave one. One night while you were asleep, he must have shot you up with something to make sure you stayed asleep—or perhaps even something that induced sleepwalking. He brought you out to the Guardian, used you in your sleeping state to open the force field, returned you to where you were sleeping, stepped into the Guardian…”
“And the rest is history,” said Blair.
Riker smiled. “Not anymore.”
Moments later, Mary Mac had enlisted Blair’s aid in dragging the unconscious Mar Loc away, vowing that when she got through with her report to the Federation science council, Mar Loc was going to be sent somewhere where time could truly be appreciated…an Orion prison (for his crimes against Mary Mac), where life was so difficult that days tended to pass like years.
“I want you to understand, Admiral,” Data said slowly as they stared into the glowing arch of the Guardian of Forever, “that I am truly sorry for my actions.”