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He looked down at the strip of uniform that now acted as his bandage. A laser suture on boardwould have been nice, or even a roll of gauze, but the lack of either wasnt enough reason to squelch a mission.
We have our orders. Im not going to let this stop us.
Orders. He bent his lips into a frown. The captain had asked the impossiblenot unusual for Picardbut this time Riker saw no reasonable way. Thousands of square kilometers of land couldnt be surveyed in a flying dinghy with a souped-up tricorder.
Deanna gave a final tug at the bandage and pulled herself out of the small crevice she had been folded into.
Its not a small injury, Will. No ones been on this planet long. We dont know what kind of microbes ...
She let her sentence trail off.
What kind of microbes what?
She settled into the only other chair, the copilot seat, and looked out the starboard window. A real window. With real blue-green sky and endless fields of grain below.
Nothing, she murmured.
He pursed his lips and silently fumed, unable to stem the burst of emotion he knew would probably catch Deannas empathic attention. He could feel her staringthose know-all-tell-nothing eyes of a counselorand wondered where the intimate eyes of a friend had gone. Or did he even want them?
And what didThomas Riker see when he looked into Deannas eyes?
Therewas a strange and confusing turn of events. Recently Riker decided he led a ... well, anodd life.
What normal person wakes up in the morning to find that a transporter malfunction years ago had created an exact duplicate of himself? It had been strange to look inthat mirror ... to see a man he could have beenwouldhave beenhad things not happened at certain turns in his life.
ThomasRiker, as Wills duplicate now called himself, had been stranded early in histheir?career, marooned at an abandoned post. ThatLieutenant Riker, as he would remain while Will Riker received two promotions, lived his life not among the stars, but sc.r.a.ping an existence from day to day. Thomas Riker only dreamed of the life thatWill Riker was actually living. More than that, Tom Riker was still in love with Deanna Troi.
Not so surprising, that. So why wasnt Will Riker? And why did he feel those twinges of jealousy and guilt when Tom and Deanna had began ... or was it continued? ... where he and Deanna had left off?
Maybe he was still in love, in a way. He still enjoyed her companymore than any woman he had ever known, but he wasnt really interested in rekindling anything at this point, was he? Falling in with Barbara was evidence of that. Then why did he feel those twinges?
It probably didnt matter. Deanna wasnt interested in Will Riker anymore, it appeared. She was interested in Tom Riker. Even if Willdid want to rekindle anything ... well, he didnt know if that was possible. It all depended on Deanna, and she wasnt an open book right now.
What else was new? For a psychological counselor she was a master at uncovering other peoples feelings while s.h.i.+elding her own. She could sense, feel and report on others, but so often bottled her pa.s.sions while seeming to be open.
Right now she didnt even seem that, and it was beginning to annoy. Since when didnt she confide in him?
Since Tom.
The manual control, the frustration of not even knowing what they were looking for ... itall had worn on him. Mile after mile of grain and mile after mile of edged talk was not a prescription to stop the throbbing of his leg or to find what on the planet was absorbingEnterprise s energy.
All he was sure of so far was that Velex seemed to be a giant power sponge that soaked up the white-noise blanket with fervor.
Every last bit of the flitters reserve power had been diverted to sensors to hack through that blanket.
That left manual navigation turbulent, and what energy was left being drained by the planet as well.
He gritted his teeth and tried to think about his piloting more than anything else. If he was going to be resentful about something he should at least take it off of her. She could be reading him. Another problem with empaths ... theyd leave their victims wondering what thoughts had been listened to.
Each attempt to block his emotions just frustrated him further. Like trying to blow out a camp fire, he was only fueling what hed hoped to smother flagging for perusal those thoughts he wanted hidden. The harder he tried not to be read, the easier he would be to read.
Sensor penetration?
he asked, knowing the answer was the same as ten minutes ago.
She looked from one screen to another.
Twelve kilometer radius and holding.
Monotone. Distant.
Dammit, Deanna!
He was looking at her, and she snapped her eyes up to his.
What?
she asked, perplexed.
Riker hesitated, then decided to push forward.
Whats with you today?
She looked at him for a moment, then looked away, back toward the window.
Im not sure.
Concern thumped around his gut, pulling his jaw tight. His leg throbbed with the pumping of his heart but it seemed the least of his problems.
He stared at the back of her head, then looked out the starboard window, trying to follow her gaze to whatever it was she saw, or felt.
He leaned over, nudged her shoulder.
Deanna, I didnt mean to snap, he offered a bit softer, knowing it should have been a lot softer.
She shook her head a little, looked up.
You didnt, she murmured.
You all right?
Fine.
But she wasnt.
I know when youre fine. Whats bothering you?
She turned to him, those mahogany Grecian eyes catching his and pulling him in. There was such confusion pasted on her face ... pain almostworse than when she was swept up in a tempest of emotions that were the Hidran and Klingon delegations.
She stared at him a bit longer, looking the little lost girl. Perhaps trying to put thoughts into words.
He glanced out the window, made a course adjustment, tried to lose his tension in the churning jasmine fields below. Tried to, but couldnt and swiveled back to her.
They rode up and down an air pocket and she said nothing. Riker got the feeling she was trying. Her knuckles were white marbles on her lap and he half twisted out of his seat to face her.
She inhaled deeply and let it out slowly, folding her hands together thoughtfully on the edge of the console.
I dont quite know how to put it.
Riker tapped the autopilot control, but the white-noise blanket still interfered with compu-nav-sensors and the computer refused his command again. He grumbled something and had to turn back to the console.
Tell me what youre feeling.
This planet ... theres something unnerving about it, she said slowly.
It was barely noticeable before ... but as we get farther from the colony ...
From the corner of his eye he noticed she was looking out the port again.
The planet makes you uncomfortable? What could do that?
c.o.c.king her head to one side, as if listening to something in the distance, she focused her eyes on a remote point and whispered, Nothing.
Rikers brows knitted. He s.h.i.+fted toward her, forgetting their mission to scan and just allowing the flitter to travel off in a relatively straight line.
She bit her lower lip softly, then finally spoke.
What do you hear when you go to the beach?
His brows shot up.
Excuse me?
Seriously, she said.
What does a beach sound like?
People She cut him off with a wave of her hand.
No. Say youre alone.
He shrugged, briefly wondering why hed be alone on a beach.
Birds, the surf. I dont know. What else?
Right.
She nodded.
Even blindfolded youd know you were near the ocean. Entire planets are like that for Betazoids. The millions of life-forms, from insects to people, put out a sort of ... hum of life.
I can sense it. Sometimes I can even tell one planet from another by how itfeels to me.
How does this planet feel to you?
There was a cold silence for a moment, but Riker suddenly realized it wasnt an emotional cold. It wasnt pa.s.sionless.
Picture your beach without sound, she said.
The tide coming and going silently as if you were deaf. But you could still hear the sound of your own voice and your boots crunching the sand.
The image sent a shudder down Rikers spine. It was the stuff of nightmares.
Maybe a better way to describe it is like walking down that beach breathing stale air.
She was raising her voice now, almost angry at the situation.
It sickens you. Suffocates you.
Riker frowned again.
What do you think it means?
She gripped his arm, her fingers now talons and her eyes burning with small tears. She was scared. One emotion he hadnt thought ofshe was scared.
As sure as were alive, Will, she said, I know this planet is dead!
Klingon! You are dead!
Urosks bellow cracked through the hall and yanked Picard to his feet. It echoed as Worf spun to see Zhads form collapse over a Klingons. Worf looked up at Urosk, and the indicting Hidran finger that meant to bore through him.
Picard followed the line of Urosks arm straight to Worfs eyes. Surprise tinted the Klingons features only a moment before becoming angled with strength. He bent his knees and braced himself.
Captain Picard vaulted over his table, phaser drawn, and stabbed at his communicator.
Enterprise!Beam down emergency security team!
Urosk, down on one knee, grabbed the dagger in the dead Klingons chest. The armored corpse jolted up with the blade, then fell back down as Urosk shook the body free. Urosk hurtled forward, toward Worf.
Picard bolstered his foot against the edge of the table in front of him and shoved. It went sliding across the room, grinding toward Urosk. It slammed into the Hidran captain, barring his way to Worf for the moment.
The other Hidran smashed their chairs on the hard stone floor and instantly each one was armed with a strong, threatening club.
Splinters flew as wood cracked against marble and the Klingons suddenly had equally sinister weapons.
The Hidran captain held his blade, clamped tight between rustred fingers.
Iwill kill you myself, Klingon!