Imzadi. Part 34

Worf stood in the doorway, his phaser leveled. "One side, Commander," he said calmly. Immediately Riker leaped out of the way and Worf fired again. The phaser beam enveloped the Chameloid once again. He wailed in frustration, and then consciousness slipped from him and he pitched forward, right on top of Riker.

Worf helped roll the Chameloid off Riker, who sat up, rubbing his chest in pain. Then he looked to Deanna, who was making a similar motion of her own. "Deanna," he said urgently, "are you all right? Are-"

"I... I felt something. Some sort of... of burning pain in my chest... but now it's gone. Will... what's happened here? Who is... is that?" She pointed distastefully at the unconscious Chameloid. "Where did this vial come from? How did you know...?"

Riker patted her hand with all the rea.s.surance that he could muster at that moment. Then he said, "Worf... gel our 'friend' here to the brig. Alert the captain, tell him to meet me outside my quarters. Emphasize that. Outside my quarters."

"Very well," said Worf, hauling the Chameloid over his shoulder.

Two other security men had shown up by this point, but Worf clearly had matters in hand. "Am I correct in a.s.suming that this is our intruder?"

Will looked up at him bleakly. "Worf, you don't know the half of it."

Worf grunted and headed off to the brig with the Chameloid. When he was gone, Riker rotated his arm, which had been banged up as he'd wrestled with the Chameloid.

Troi, for her part, merely looked at him with awe. "You saved my life, Will," she said quietly. "I was in danger, and you came charging in here-risked your life-and you saved me."

"Actually," said Riker, "not to sound boastful or anything-but it appears I went to even greater lengths than that to save you. You'd better get dressed and come with me. I don't think you're going to believe this unless you see it. I'll..." He cleared his throat, chucking a thumb toward the hallway. "I'll wait out here for you to put some clothes on."

"That's very decent of you, Commander."

She slid off the bed, stood on her toes, and kissed him.

"Thank you for saving me," she whispered in his ear.

He smiled tiredly. "All part of the service."

CHAPTER 39.

When Will and Deanna returned to his cabin, Picard was standing there looking extremely annoyed.

"All right, Number One," he said stiffly, arms folded. "I have complied with your wishes and stood here outside your cabin. I cannot say I like to be kept waiting."

"The counselor was just making herself look presentable," said Will.

"Presentable for whom?" demanded Picard.

"Yes, Commander," chimed in Troi. With the danger past, she was all business. "Whom exactly am I being made presentable for?"

For answer, Will walked into his cabin, hoping his future self had stayed put. It had potential to be a very embarra.s.sing situation if- He was gone.

Will stood in the middle of the cabin, looking around dismally. Troi and Picard followed him in, staring uncomprehendingly at the officer's obvious discomfiture.

"He was right here!" said Riker desperately.

"Number One," Picard told him, speaking slowly and deliberately, "who... precisely... was here?"

"Me."

It had been Will Riker's voice that had replied, but it was not the Will Riker that Picard was looking at. For an instant Picard thought that Riker was practicing ventriloquism or some such nonsense. But then, slowly, Picard realized that the voice had come from behind them.

He turned in time to see a grayhaired version of his second-in-command emerging from the bathroom. "I was here," he said. "Still am, actually. Which makes me con-"

He caught a glimpse of Deanna, who was standing just behind the younger Will Riker. Will stepped aside and gestured to her. "I did it," he said quietly, "or rather... we did it."

Picard had not yet fathomed what to say, much less what to make of the situation. At that precise moment, however, Picard could have been a million light-years away and Adm. William Riker would not have noticed.

Instead Riker was staring at Deanna Troi with a mixture of disbelief and shock. "Deanna...," he whispered.

She took a step toward him, stunned. "Will-?"

It was the fastest shift in emotion that Deanna had ever felt. An air of despair and doom had hung like a shroud over the man facing her... until he had set eyes on her. And suddenly it had been ripped away, just like that. How was it possible that one person-one person-could make that much difference in someone's life?

He approached her, reaching out to her. Picard and his Number One made no move, but merely watched in pure amazement.

The admiral brought his hands up to her face, hovered over it for an instant as if afraid to touch her. As if afraid that if he made any such movement, she would burst like a soap bubble and all of it, all of this moment, would just vanish.

But then he did touch her. Riker put his hands to her face, and they were shaking. "Oh... my G.o.d," he breathed.

It was like that moment in the Jalara Jungle, except now he was the one who was trembling. Deanna, for her part, reacted entirely on instinct, putting her arms around him and pulling him tightly against her.

His chest began to heave with pent-up emotion, and the old man began to sob. He no longer cared where he was, or who was watching. The ethics of his actions did not weigh on him. All that mattered was that she was there, and she was alive, and in his arms. Years of agony and guilt and second-guessing, washed away by the hot tears and first real emotion besides grief that he had experienced for decades.

And she heard his thoughts, and it was as startling as that first time had been. Oh, G.o.d... Imzadi... I'm whole again, echoed in her mind, the prayer of thanksgiving from a man who had given up on everything, especially himself. I never knew... what I had until you were gone.

"It's all right," she murmured, stroking his back. "It's all right."

He drew back from her to look her in the eyes, those eyes that had been closed in death for years. They were as bright and transcendent as he had remembered, and both of their faces were wet with tears. Whether hers was wet from his or she had generated her own, he couldn't tell. He also couldn't care.

Standing to one side, Comdr. Will Riker watched the reunion of two lovers and realized-insanely-that he was jealous.

"Worf to Riker."

Riker the elder had to rein in his impulse to answer, but instead nodded in the direction of Will. "I think it's for you."

Will tapped his communicator. "Yes?"

"We checked the cabin to which Amba.s.sador Dann had been a.s.signed and found him unconscious. Apparently the Chameloid had accosted Dann at some point earlier this evening and taken his place."

The admiral's head now turned, his attention switching to the matters at hand. He released his hold on Deanna and turned to Will, making a throat-cutting gesture. Will said, "Thank you, Mr. Worf. Make sure the Chameloid is secure. Riker out." Then he turned to his future self and said, "This Chameloid is one of 'them,' isn't he."

"I believe so." said the admiral. "You sure he's a Chameloid? Large? Brown hair and furry?" When Will nodded, Admiral Riker continued, "Well, unless I miss my guess, he's an officer named Blair. There was only one Chameloid on... on the ship, and Lieutenant Blair was it. I doubt... they could have gotten another one so quickly. It figures that he would a.s.sume the appearance of someone close to Deanna. If they antic.i.p.ated my trying to save her, then the logical thing was to take on the aspect of whoever was with her at the key moment in time. Simplest way to keep an eye on her and make sure things progress smoothly."

"For all you knew," Will now said, "I could have been one of them. When you came here, you might have been walking into a trap." "I know. That's why I mentioned the lines of poetry to you. I watched your reaction very carefully. That wasn't just to convince you that I'm you. It was also to convince me that you're me."

"I hate to break this up," Picard now said, stepping forward, "but I, who am unquestionably me, would be most grateful if either of you cared to tell either of me what in h.e.l.l is going on?"

"Watch your tone with me, Captain," said the elder Riker with a half-serious smirk. "I have seniority, and I outrank you."

Picard was not someone who was easily fl.u.s.tered, but now he turned to his second-in-command with utter perplexity. "Number One-?" And there was a distinct tone of warning to his voice.

"Simply put, Captain," said Will, stepping forward and gesturing to the grayhaired man, "this is myself, from the future."

"I surmised that, Number One," said Picard tightly. "Now what the blazes is he doing here?"

"All right, Captain," the admiral told him. "To put this as succinctly, and as noncommittally, as possible-Deanna's life was in danger. I came back through time to see her through that danger. And there are some people who would prefer that I didn't."

"Will..." began Picard.

Two Rikers said, "Yes?"

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Deanna had to make an effort not to laugh.

"Admiral," Picard started again, "Counselor Troi has been in danger before. We all have. Why was this threat so significant that it warranted your taking the extremely dangerous step of coming back through time?"

"She died," said the admiral, trying not to look at her. "But now she hasn't... except that I haven't returned to my own time. Which means..." And his voice darkened. "It means the danger to her isn't over yet."

Picard leaned against a bureau. "How... how did you come here?"

The admiral gave Riker a long, hard look. There seemed to be a great deal going through his mind, as if he were coming to a variety of decisions. "I can't tell you," he said finally.

Picard blinked. "Well, then... tell us why Counselor Troi was"-he found he couldn't say the word and settled for-"attacked. What happened as a consequence of it?"

"I can't tell you that, either."

"Oh, for G.o.d's sake!" said Picard in exasperation. "It seems just yesterday we went through this with Rasmussen-and he turned out to be from the past, for that matter!"

"I know," the admiral reminded him. "I was there."

"Well, then?"

The admiral placed the palms of his hands together. "Jean-Luc," he began, and noted the surprised expression of the Enterprise captain upon hearing his first name spoken by the man he still thought of as a subordinate. "Jean-Luc... you understand the tremendous risk I've taken by coming back here. You know, as well as I, the Starfleet regulations against any sort of interference with the time stream."

"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 G.o.d for me. I'm not prepared, under any circ.u.mstance, 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, h.e.l.l, 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 scaled 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 he 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 a.s.signment 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 n.o.bly 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 embarra.s.sing 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 circ.u.mstance. 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.