Imzadi. Part 36

The communications function for the cabin had been deliberately disabled by Commander Riker. Wisely, he had antic.i.p.ated the possibility that his older self might try to take advantage of their natural voice similarities and use that function to summon help from some unknowing individual. But the locator function still worked just fine.

"Deanna Troi is on deck twenty-three," replied the computer.

"Probable destination?"

The computer did not hesitate. "The Sindareen peace conference is scheduled for conference room twenty-three-D. Deanna Troi is among the personnel scheduled to attend the conference. She is presently one hundred and fifty meters from the conference room and moving towards it. The likelihood that her destination is the conference room is approximately-"

"Never mind. I get the idea."

He twisted the heel of his boot and it came clean off. Holding his palm under it, he upended it.

A miniature phaser fell into his palm.

He nodded approvingly and snapped the heel back in place.

As he did so, he prayed that he had done the right thing in withholding the information that he had. He could have told them so easily that the Sindareen were being duplicitous. Flus.h.i.+ng that knowledge out into the open might have ended all of this... especially if it was, in fact, the Sindareen who were somehow behind the whole thing.

But he had spoken the truth to Picard. He was indeed treading on very shaky ground and was not at alI sure just how far he should go in giving them information. Should he tell them about the Sindareen? Should he tell them about the fact that perhaps Data himself-Data from the future-might be wandering the s.h.i.+p? Certainly if he had been Data, that's what he would have done: gone back himself. Who knew the s.h.i.+p better? Who could blend in more effectively than someone who was already supposed to be there?

He couldn't just tell them all these things. Where would it end? Worse... what would it begin?

But he could take action himself... actions without explaining them. Be Deanna's guardian angel. Her knight, her cowboy riding to the rescue.

Her Imzadi.

First, though... he had to get out of there.

He went over to the far wall. He knew that the officer in the adjoining cabin was already on duty, so this was definitely the preferred exit route.

He held the phaser close up to the wall and set it for as low and quiet a setting as he could. He couldn't risk giving the guards any sort of warning at all.

He pressed down on the trigger device and a pencil-thin beam of light emerged from the miniature phaser. Forcing himself to be patient, Riker proceeded to cut a hole in the wall.

The s.h.i.+p's security system, programmed to recognize 398 different weapons, did not recognize the futuristic phaser for what it was. Therefore, it identified the weapon as the closest a.n.a.logue in its system, a hand-held arc welder-just as the admiral knew the computer would do. Hardly a weapon, the welder was not something that required any sort of security alert. Riker continued his work undisturbed.

When Will and Deanna entered the conference room, they saw that Picard and the delegates from the Cordians, the Luss, and the Byfrexians were already there. Only the Sindareen had yet to arrive.

Dann was sitting next to the Luss amba.s.sador, and he had a profoundly befuddled expression on his face. His inquiries as to how in h.e.l.l he had come to be unconscious in his cabin had not really been answered by anyone. When he saw Deanna, he started to rise, his entire face a question. But Deanna silently gestured for him to sit back down, somehow putting across that she'd speak to him later about it.

Will turned to Worf and the other guards and said in a low voice, "All right... we'll be okay for now."

"If you are certain," said Worf slowly.

"Yes," said Riker, and he patted his phaser. "I have the only working weapon in the room-it's keyed into the safe code of the null field. I'll sit next to her and make sure no one gets near her. All this attention... it's disconcerting to her. We'll be fine."

"Very well," Worf said. "But summon me instantly at the first sign of trouble."

It sounded remarkably like an order, which was not particularly appropriate for a lieutenant to issue a commander. But Will took it in stride. "Yes, sir."

If Worf picked up on the amused sarcasm, he gave no sign. Instead he grunted again and then turned and exited the room.

"I see the Sindareen are not yet with us," observed Picard as Riker and Troi settled into their seats.

"Perhaps we should start without them," suggested the Cordian amba.s.sador. "After all, the Sindareen peace initiative will probably go far more smoothly without the Sindareen actually being involved." This produced a small chuckle from around the table.

"I think we'll wait for them," said Picard good-humoredly. "After all... it would be the polite thing to do."

Data sat on the bridge, watching the home planet of the Sindareen turning beneath them.

The turbolift door opened and Worf emerged. Data waited until the Klingon had taken his station before rising and saying, "I have something I must attend to, Mr. Worf. You have the conn."

He walked out before Worf could say anything. Mentally, the Klingon shrugged. Whatever Data had to take care of, certainly it was none of his concern.

Lieutenant Barclay, deciding that the entire previous night had been one, long bad dream-overstimulation of the imagination-stepped out of the shower, dried himself off, and got dressed for duty.

The two security guards outside Riker's quarters took no notice when the door to the adjoining quarters hissed open.

As a result, they never had a chance to react before the phaser beam, now set to stun, cut loose from the miniature weapon in the hand of Admiral Riker. Instantly, they both fell to the ground, unconscious.

Riker bent over them, glancing around quickly and breathing a sigh of relief that no one was coming. He grabbed each of thern by one wrist and, moving as quickly as he could and cursing the achiness of his aging muscles, backed up and dragged them into the cabin from which he'd just exited.

He left them lying on the floor, next to the large piece of wall that he had cut out and pushed through into this cabin. He knew that the phaser blast would have knocked them both out for at least an hour.

When he reemerged from the cabin, he was wearing the uniform of one of the guards. Although there was nothing he could do about his obvious resemblance to the Enterprise's second-in-command, at least he could make himself a bit less noticeable as he moved through the corridors.

He had a little bit of time. He hoped that would be all he needed.

Data, he thought desperately, if you are here... where would you be? What would you be up to? Would you really be so coldhearted as to kill Deanna... and if so, how would you go about it?

Data stood on the turbolift as it whisked him to his destination. He had worked out what needed to be done and was reasonably certain that he could succeed.

He would leave some confusion in his wake. But confusion could easily be dealt with. There would be nothing absolutely incriminating.

And Deanna would be dead.

The Sindareen entered the conference room. "Our apologies," said Amba.s.sador Nici. "We were unaware that the switch had been made to this conference room."

Eza was staring at Troi with a most peculiar expression on his face. And Deanna started to feel the first tickle to her mind of something... something that she was starting to place...

That vague feeling that she had encountered once before... when she had been the captive, years ago, of a Sindareen raider.

In the corridor, Admiral Riker suddenly skidded to a halt.

"Of course," he whispered.

He turned and barreled down the corridor.

Data stepped off the turbolift and abruptly a voice called, "Data!"

Geordi LaForge came up to him quickly. "I'm glad I happened to run into you. We've been getting some weird variants in the warp field fluctuations."

"Now is not a good time, Gcordi." Data started down the hallway.

Geordi stopped him, looking at him with concern. "Data, are you okay?"

"Functioning perfectly. We can discuss the field fluctuations at a later date, Geordi. For the moment, I have other things to attend to."

"But it's really odd. The time-s.p.a.ce capacitors seem to be reacting to... well, to nothing that I can detect."

"Later." Data's voice was firm. He turned and walked off, leaving a very puzzled chief engineer behind him.

Will Riker studied the amba.s.sadors around the table. Everyone seemed perfectly calm. Everything seemed friendly... or at least polite.

He looked to Deanna. A faint, puzzled expression was on her face that he knew quite well. She was concentrating, trying to pick the threads of emotions out of the air and weave them into something that she could examine and make p.r.o.nouncements on.

He thought of giving her a gentle nudge, to ask her what was happening... but then decided against it. When she was ready to tell him, she would.

Lieutenant Barclay checked his morning duty log, saw nothing particularly unusual, glanced in the mirror once more, approved of his hairstyle, and walked out of his quarters whistling and ready for a far more sane day.

He walked past Lieutenant Commander Data, who barely afforded him a glance. "Good morning, sir."

"Good morning, Barclay. You look much more relaxed today," said Data, and kept on going. Barclay, still whistling aimlessly, headed for the turbolift.

Admiral Riker dashed into Data's quarters and moaned softly.

Data was lying, unmoving, on the bed. From his skewed position, it was clear that he had been shut off and tossed there like a sack of wheat.

And to make matters worse... his head was gone.

Riker allotted sixty seconds to locate it before he went after the future Data himself. It would have been nice to have the strength of the present Data as backup... but he would make do if he had to.

He always had in the past...

...or future...

...or whatever.

The door to the conference room hissed open, and Data stepped in. Picard looked up at Data questioningly.

"A private matter, sir, for Counselor Troi."

"Very well," said a slightly puzzled Picard.

Troi rose, as did Will. With Data, they stepped over to one of the corners of the room.

"You are aware that the captain has filled me in on the present situation," Data said softly. When Riker and Troi nodded, he continued, "I have some rather bad news. Admiral Riker... your future self... seems to have suffered some sort of ma.s.sive heart attack. Dr. Crusher says he's barely stabilized and"-he turned to Troi-"he's calling for you, Counselor."

Deanna frowned. "I... I don't feel him in that sort of distress."

"He's barely conscious, Counselor. Perhaps that affects your empathic abilities... or perhaps the proximity of our own Commander Riker deters your ability to focus on the other. I took the liberty of coming in person, rather than using communicators. In the event that unauthorized individuals are somehow tapping into our comm systems..."

"Yes, good thinking, Mr. Data," said Riker.

"I'd better go to him," Deanna said worriedly.

"I'll go, too," Riker added.

"Are you certain you wish to do that, Commander?" Data asked. "Watching yourself die... I'd think it would be difficult for you." Deanna turned to Riker. "He's right, Will. Please... I don't want to put you through that. Data's with me. I'll be fine. Honestly... if you ask me, I think you're being overconcerned. The danger is probably over."

Data nodded in agreement.

CHAPTER 42.

With three seconds to spare in his self-imposed countdown, Admiral Riker found Data's head. It had been wrapped carefully in a sheet and shoved into the back of the closet... just inconvenient enough to serve as a delay, but not so dangerous that it would actually endanger the future existence of the android called Data.

Riker activated the head as soon as he had pulled it free from the cloth. Data blinked and looked around. Then he stared up into the face of his liberator.

"I a.s.sume you are not the person who put me into this predicament."

"No, Data. You did this all to yourself"

"You appear to be Commander Riker... but significantly aged."

"Come on," said Riker, getting to his feet. "Can you operate your body from here?"

With a cybernetic impulse from Data's positronic brain, his body lurched off the bed like something from an old horror film.

"Good," Riker snapped. "I'll fill you in on the way. Come on, let's go!"

"Be certain to face me forward so that I can see where I am going," Data cautioned him.

Riker bolted into the corridor and started down the hallway, Data's head tucked under one arm. Behind him at a rapid jog came Data's body.

"Would you care to apprise me of what is happening?" asked Data.

Riker was ready for this. He knew that if he told Data the truth, or even part of the truth, he might have a bigger problem than when he started. If this Data decided that the future Data's mission was a sound one, then he might very well have two androids trying to kill Deanna. That he did not need.

So he lied through his teeth.

"I'm Will Riker, all right, but from another dimension. We're pursuing the individual you know as Lore. He crossed over into our universe, killed Deanna Troi there for reasons that we do not know, and now has returned to this dimension and is intent on performing the same murderous act. We have no idea why he's doing these things."

"Neither do I," Data said, "but Lore has been known to behave in an irrational manner. He must be stopped. Shall we warn Counselor Troi via communicator?"