The trio continued on in silence, with neither Riker certain of what to say.
“I’m asking, do you think they will want me to die for starting all this?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Kyle said. “It’s not something you did consciously. Someone had to be first and fate picked you.”
“Me and not one of the four other poor fools,” Bison said. “Me, the Federation’s lab rat.”
“Okay, if it wasn’t fate, then the Federation figured you had it in you,” Kyle said testily.
“That’s not a lot of help,” Will replied.
“Are we still on course for getting out of this god-forsaken jungle?” Kyle asked.
“More or less,” Will said.
“More or less?”
“Is there an echo in here?”
“Shut up,” Kyle said to Bison. To his son, he added, “Explain please?”
“I’m judging from the way the trees grow that things are beginning to thin. But the shadows also make it tough to tell. Shouldn’t be much longer.”
“You keep leading the way,” Kyle said.
They continued to march.
Finally, Will could see something other than leaves and trees. He spotted the beginnings of twilight peeking through the limbs. The forest was ending and they were emerging just when it would have gotten too dark to manage much farther. They were dirty, tired, and hungry but they had made it through the forest alive. Bison continued to complain about everything, mostly hunger and his fate, but Will managed to tune him out.
As they cleared the last tree, the trio paused and took stock of their situation. In the near distance, over a rise, were lights indicating a village or city. There were sounds of machinery, even a voice or two. That was clearly their direction, even if it was farther west than Will would have preferred. Still, they’d find food and hopefully a means of reaching the capital and the Council. Along the way, Will imagined only the very worst possibilities, not daring to hope they’d return to find a cure in effect courtesy of Beverly Crusher, M.D. and miracle worker.
“Something’s wrong, son,” Kyle said, breaking the moment.
“What do you mean?”
“Look at the way that light is moving. It’s flickering like it’s alive.”
“Like it’s on fire,” Will said, alarm in his voice.
“We better hurry over there.”
“How do you see us helping?”
“Extra hands, I guess. We don’t have any emergency aid equipment but we have to be there.”
“I know,” Will said. “Because you fix things.”
“Damn right,” Kyle said and set out at a strong pace. It didn’t take long for Will to follow and he never turned back but was gratified to hear Bison’s footsteps behind him.
Within twenty minutes they had cleared the rise and saw the outline of a small city. Boxy, squat buildings—no surprise there—but these didn’t look like homes. This part of town had to be the business district, and to the right were the flickering lights. Then a tongue of flame rose above as if to beckon them closer.
And drawn like moths, the men moved closer.
Will forgot all about eating. As they neared, it was clear the building in flames was populated. He saw emergency workers helping people with blankets and even oxygen masks. A few more minutes and the figures became more distinct.
“My God,” Kyle muttered.
“Children,” Will said.
“It’s a school,” Bison said. “I’d know those markings anywhere. Primary school. Had some terrible times there…”
“Shut up,” Kyle said. “Willy, we have to go help. My God, children are in there. My fault…”
Will turned on his father, grabbed his shoulders and shook the older man once. “Look at the fire! Study the pattern. What do you see?”
Kyle did as he was ordered and was silent for over a minute. Finally he began speaking. “Pattern burns are even on the south wall. East wall is clean. No fire on the ground. The fire’s moving from one side to the other. Given the elevation of the fire, it didn’t start on the ground or in one spot.”
“Arson,” Will concluded for him.
“Most likely. And no surprise given the madness we’ve seen elsewhere.”
“Someone threw the bomb,” Bison said.
“Point to you,” Kyle agreed. “If they’re still around, we might be able to put an end to their threat.”
“Spoken like a good tactician,” Will added with a grin. “Okay, let’s go play hero.”
His father’s features darkened. “We’re neither playing nor heroes. We’re responsible for this carnage.”
“Thought so,” Bison said.
“Shut up,” both Rikers said in unison.
“Definitely an echo around here,” Bison said and then, looking at Kyle’s expression, shut his mouth.
As they neared the school, everyone studied the damage that continued to spread. The rooftop was aflame and windows on two sides had been blown out. People were running back and forth, their movements appearing aimless from the air. Firefighters were present, as were other emergency service workers, but they were no match for the ferocity of the flame. Barricades kept most of the onlookers a safe distance away, but again, there were too few peace officers to ensure they remained on the proper side. Will imagined that many of them were worried parents.
“Do we have anything to protect us?”
“The cold weather gear is heat resistant, or so I’m told,” Kyle said.
Will eyed the outer clothes he wore. “It will have to do, I suppose.”
He was already closing up the coat, ensuring every fastening was closed and used a scarf to act as a mask. “Dad, you can scan the perimeter while I go inside.”
Without looking back, his father agreed. “Each to our strengths.”
Will nodded, more to himself than to his father. Before moving closer to the burning building he looked over at Bison. Narrowing his eyes, Will said, “Stay put. Don’t complicate this any more than it needs to be.”
“Save the kids,” he said quietly. Will was surprised by the compassion in the man’s voice. Within seconds he could feel the heat generated by the fire, amplified by the winter gear he wore. Moving quickly, he worked his way past gawkers and panicked parents. The security cordons were fine for those trained to obey the rules but had the crowd wanted, they could have overrun the scene, slowing up relief efforts. Whatever had happened to these people, at least all their common sense hadn’t fled.
Since the school was aflame mainly on the south side, he chose to enter from the north. The heat grew worse with each passing step, and he felt sweat form on his chest and a trickle run down his spine. He hadn’t eaten a proper meal since the one at Seer’s house over a day ago, and sleep had been a series of catnaps. He was pushing his limits of physical endurance and realized that soon he’d be at less than peak performance—probably already was.
The windows on this side were still intact, and he quickly pushed one open and stepped through. Like the other buildings he’d visited, the school was a series of boxlike rooms and connecting hallways. He stood in the classroom, amid overturned chairs and tables, and computer terminals flashing error messages. Listening, he tried to determine where the flames were, where the children might have gone to await rescue. There was the telltale crackle of fire overhead and in the distance a stream of water, but no cries from children. He longed for a tricorder.
He placed a hand against the classroom door, which someone had wisely closed. It didn’t feel particularly warm, so Will gingerly cracked it open and paused. No rush of heat or flame, so he was safe. Carefully, he opened it all the way and then looked up and down the hallway. He tried to imagine himself a frightened child. Where would he go? A sound of breaking glass to his right decided matters for him, and he headed in that direction.
The hallway was littered with dropped belongings, padds, data chips, articles of clothing, even some old-fashioned paper. The fire hadn’t reached here yet
but it would. The building was a loss, just waiting to be consumed as a sacrifice to the problem unleashed by the Federation.
Will worked his way carefully toward the end of the hall, where he suspected the sound came from. All the doors he passed were closed, and he looked for any signage to give him a clue where children might be found. Finally arriving at the last classroom, he tested the door and then opened it.
No one was inside, but Will cracked a smile anyway. It was a science lab, with all manner of tools and equipment on the worktables. There was some form of communications device half assembled on the middle table. A quick glance told him it was a person-to-person device, the kind families would use. It didn’t have a lot of range, but it might still be useful. Pulling off his gloves, he knew he had only a few minutes at most.
Will hadn’t worked with chips, wires, and soldering equipment like this in some time. Still, the relatively simple nature of the device made his job easier. He took two power supplies and connected them, allowing him to boost the signal. Then he used a small stylus to adjust the frequency, one he hoped the Enterprise would be able to pick up. Riker then pulled out pieces of the device and found some adhesive tape. He unfastened his coat and found a seam. Using a sharp edge of the stylus, he ripped open the seam and quickly taped the power supply and pieces of the communicator to the upper chest portion of his jacket. With luck, someone on the starship would pick up the signal and then track his whereabouts until he could be contacted or beamed up.
Finished, he used more tape to repair the seam and then closed the coat. Turning, he quickly plotted a course of action. He jogged down the corridor, back in the direction he had started from, and opened each room, shouting for children. The smoke was thicker now and turning black, so he knew the fire was approaching. Running while breathing smoky air through his scarf wasn’t easy, and he felt himself getting a little winded. With each empty room, Will grew more and more concerned that there were still people in need of help and that but he was in the wrong part of the school.
Children would know enough to run away from flames, so he was in the right half of the building; he just wasn’t in the right room. They would not go up where the fire sounded closer but…Will wondered if the school had a basement.
He found a T-shaped juncture and turned, heading closer to the fire. The heat had risen, he sensed, as more perspiration ran down his brow and neck. Halfway down the hall, he spotted a door that had an emergency graphic. It was wider than the classroom doors and painted a dull gray, in contrast to the muted colors of the other rooms.
He yanked open the door without checking for heat and shouted down.
Within seconds, voices answered. Scared, young voices all pleading for rescue.
“I’m coming,” Will yelled as he bounded down the steps.
The basement room was well built for any disaster. Light panels were affixed to the walls and ceiling, and there were emergency medical kits every ten feet as well as a locker full of rations. A communications unit sat unused alongside one wall, and Will lingered over that for a moment before focusing on the center of the room.
Three children, two boys and a girl, huddled together, tears running down their faces. They looked about six years old, but because of their accelerated aging, Will could only guess.
“I’m here to help,” he said, making certain his smile was wide and reassuring. “The fire isn’t entirely on this side of the school, so we can get out safely. Are you ready to go?”
Three nods.
“Okay. First of all, I’m Will. I’m trained to help, so you have nothing to worry about. Now, I need to go first and make sure the way is clear. All right with you?”
Three more nods.
“Then let’s get started. We’ll go single file up the stairs. Once we’re all up, I’ll show you the path we’ll follow. Here we go.”
He turned and started up the stairs and then paused, making certain they were following. All three had stopped crying and were following, although they seemed petrified at the notion.
“How’d you get separated from your teacher?” he asked as he climbed the stairs.
After several seconds of silence, the girl spoke up in a tiny voice. “Addie here insisted we go back and get his art project. We followed one way, the teacher kept going the other way.”
“It was my for my da’s birthday,” one boy said defensively.
“Do you still have it?” Will asked.
“No, the hall was too full of smoke.”
“Well, the smoke is still there, and it’s probably thicker. You need to cover your faces with your shirts when we come out. I’m going first.” With that he stepped out into the hallway that was now dark and thick with smoke.
“Hurry,” he urged them and in a burst they stepped into the hallway. Immediately they all began coughing, and one of the kids began crying again.
Will shepherded them toward the large window he had entered through. The air would be clearest there, and he could signal for help if necessary.
The classroom was dense with soot and smoke, but it was fire-free. Will walked the children to the window and hoisted them one by one through the opening, placing them gently on the grass. Within seconds, they were all clear.
Will doubted he’d be able to get back in and free others—if there were any—before the fire reached every foot of the school. He was inordinately pleased about having saved three innocents, but more than that, he finally had a way to get back in touch with Picard.
He walked the children toward the barricades, and an alert peace officer spotted the ragtag group approaching. She hurried over, muttered thanks to Riker, and ushered the children away for medical attention.
His duty done, Will unwrapped the dirty scarf from around his face and sucked in huge lungfuls of clear air. He coughed a bit and then breathed normally. The air carried the stench of the fire, but it was cool and felt great. He unfastened the top of his jacket, letting the cooler air refresh him. He was tired and he needed a shower, but more than that, he missed Deanna. She wasn’t far from his mind the entire time they were apart and her absence was a constant ache.
He trudged back to the edge of town and spotted his father leaning against the hull of a purring flyer. Kyle looked a little the worse for wear. His pants were ripped, and a small streak of blood was visible above his brow. Will worried for a moment and then shoved the thought aside. Kyle Riker was more than capable of taking care of himself. He certainly didn’t look like he needed any help.
“You find whoever fired the bomb?” Will asked as he got within earshot.
Kyle nodded slowly. “They won’t be bombing any more children.”
Will looked sharply into his father’s eyes, trying to read into the sentence. All he saw was guilt, pain, and steel, the same things he had been seeing since they first met up several hours and more than a few continents before. He wanted to ask his father for details, but he knew from his expression that there would be no answer.
For the moment, that would have to suffice.
“So now we owe someone else for yet another flyer?”
“You want to get back to the capital or not?”
“I don’t,” Bison piped up from the doorway.
Will gave him a look, too tired to yell at him.
“Can we leave now?” Kyle asked his son. Will nodded and together, they entered the new, cleaner craft. Bison remained where he had been, nothing out of place. For once, Will thought the tide of circumstance was changing in his favor. Carefully, he put his jacket on the deck, threw the scarf and gloves atop it and walked back to his seat.
“Did you save them?” Bison asked.
“Yeah.”
“Good.” The tenor of his voice changed and he practically growled, “Okay, we can go to the capital so they can try and execute me and we can end this nonsense.”
Kyle told the man to be quiet and busied himself with preparations for lifting off. Will sat, trying to wash the exhaustion from his mind and body, but he
felt he was failing at it. He knew he would need to remain sharp and seize any opportunity there was to gain control of his own situation.
Father or not, there was much Kyle had to answer for, and his time was rapidly approaching.
They were getting nowhere fast.
Vale and Troi stood at the edge of a forest and looked for clues their tricorder might have missed. The sun was starting to set and the fall air was cooling rapidly.
“The signal came from right here,” Troi said, perplexed.
Vale finished walking a circle around the clearing. She finally put her hands on her hips and looked at the darkening sky.
“They were above us when the badge was smashed. It’s the only explanation, Deanna.”
“And we don’t even know which way they were headed,” Troi said glumly.
Vale walked over to the other woman and paused, taking one final look around. She shook her head and stopped to think of the next step. Troi wanted to be patient, but she’d spent way too long just waiting and liked the notion of acting.
“Will would have put up a fight before the badge was disabled,” Deanna said. “So who broke the badge? His own father?”
“Never met him. You have. So, tell me, is this something Kyle Riker is capable of?”
Troi pondered the question and admitted, “I don’t know. If he’s still as desperate as he appeared on the lab recording, then anything is possible.”
“Wish your senses could work like the sensors,” Vale said.
“Me too, but we’re not that lucky.”
“Okay, I’m going to do some old-style detective work. I want to look through these reports from my teams, see if I can find a correlation. Maybe that will help.”
She began walking away from the trees, her features highlighted by the tricorder’s glowing screen. After a moment, Troi followed behind her, happy to at least be moving.
“So tell me, if you don’t mind, what’s up with you and the commander?”
Troi shrugged. “I know what you’re asking, but I don’t know the answer myself.”
“Wasn’t always like that, I gather.”
“True. We spent most of our time on the Enterprise as colleagues and friends.”
A Time to Hate Page 16