Imzadi. Part 31

He swiveled in his chair and looked out at the stars. The Enterprise had departed orbit around the s.p.a.ce station, off to whatever their new great adventure was. For there was still adventure out there, that much was certain. Still a big galaxy with a lot going on. Just not a lot that interested him.

He heard it behind him.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The grandfather clock. His pride and joy.

His symbol of the pa.s.sing hours.

He watched the pendulum slowly, ponderously. swing back and forth. Back and forth.

Like a large, heavy scythe. Slicing through the air, cutting through time, minute by minute, cleaving it neatly. Each second unaffected by the previous second, and uncaring of the next. Every second was the same to the pendulum.

Nothing mattered.

It just marked time.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The sound grew louder in his head, louder throughout his entire being. The sound that reminded him that this was it, that time was unyielding and pointless and there was nothing to be done about it, it was just there, that's all.

The cogs of the clock irrevocably moved against each other, each tooth engaging smoothly and flawlessly, unheeding of anything except its relentless clockworks.

And he saw her.

In his mind's eye, he saw Deanna, lying there on one of the cogs. The teeth of the cogs calmly integrated, and without t.i.ttering a whimper she was mashed in between. The cogs moved on and spit her out, her remains littering the clockworks, and nothing mattered because she was just another piece of garbage to he crunched and tossed aside.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

With a barely controlled scream of rage, Riker grabbed the grandfather clock from behind and, with all his strength, shoved. The heavy clock toppled forward and crashed to the ground like a giant redwood, the crash virtually exploding throughout the s.p.a.ce station. Gla.s.s shattered, wood cracked and splintered, and there was the eminently satisfying sound of clockworks screeching to a halt, cogs and wheels skittering out and across the floor and rolling in small circles before clattering to a halt.

Dexter ran in, alarmed at the racket, and saw Riker standing over the mess, his fists clenched and a crooked smile on his face. Riker looked up at him and all he said was, "Whoops."

When the surveying s.h.i.+p Chance arrived barely twelve hours later, Riker was ready.

CHAPTER 36.

The Enterprise 1701-F was halfway to its next port of call when a subs.p.a.ce communication came in that immediately got Commodore Data's full attention.

"This is Enterprise, he said when the computer's automatic hailing program informed him of the incoming message and the point of origin. "Go ahead."

"Commodore Data?"

It was precisely the voice Data would have preferred not to have heard. "Yes, Lieutenant Dexter. Computer, on vid."

A three-dimensional image appeared directly in front of Data, projected there by a free-floating chip. It was Dexter, and he wiped his brow with considerable discomfort. "Commodore, we have a problem."

"Specify."

"It's the admiral."

Blair and Data exchanged glances. "Is he ill?" asked Data.

"No. He's gone."

"Do you have any idea as to where?"

"Not in the slightest," said Dexter, sounding uncharacteristically put out. "He beamed up to the Chance, supposedly for some sort of routine business. The next thing I knew, the Chance had blown out of here at warp three... with the admiral."

"Have you endeavored to contact them via subs.p.a.ce?"

"Oh, I've endeavored, all right. They don't answer. They're maintaining total radio silence."

"Yes," said Data, sounding extremely practical. "They would. The admiral would make certain of that."

"But why?" demanded Dexter. "Why? What in h.e.l.l is he doing? Commodore, do you have any idea?"

"I have an excellent idea, Lieutenant. However, it is only an idea... one that I would prefer not to bandy about unless I have confirmation. Thank you for alerting me to the situation. I will attend to it. Enterprise out."

Dexter's image blinked out of existence before he could get out another word.

Data swiveled in his chair to face Blair, who said worriedly, "You know where he's going, don't you, Commodore. It's connected with what happened on Betazed, isn't it?"

Data felt the worried eyes of all his bridge crew upon him. He wished that somehow he had been able to impress on the admiral that all these people, these people right here, had something at stake in the way that things were. But Data had not been able to do so, and now the best he could do was to perform damage control.

And he would have to perform it no matter what the cost.

"The top speed of the Chance is warp six," Data said, accessing his thorough memory of all s.h.i.+ps in the registry. "There is little doubt that they are heading for the Forever World. Helm, set course for the Forever World, warp eight."

"Course plotted and laid in, sir."

"Engage," said Data calmly.

The Enterprise leaped into warp s.p.a.ce, and Data rose from the command chair. "Mr. Blair, come with me to the briefing room, please. We need to discuss worst-case strategy."

Blair followed his commanding officer into the ready room, and Lamont at conn looked over to Tucker at Ops. "You know," she said, "I don't know which is preferable. Not knowing what's going on... or finding out."

"Approaching the Forever World, Commodore."

Data had sat rigid and unmoving, staring intently at the screen, all of his considerable brainpower focused on the problem that awaited them. In an even more sedate tone than he usually used, he said, "Sensors. Is there another s.h.i.+p in orbit around the planet?"

"Negative," said Margolin at tactical, but then he paused and said, "No... wait. There's-"

The Enterprise was jolted slightly as they came within range of the time distortion ripples that were standard for the vicinity of the Forever World.

"-a s.h.i.+p in standard orbit," continued Margolin. "Markings and registry indicate that it's the Chance. Sorry about the confusion, sir. The time distortion ripples are especially-"

Once again the s.h.i.+p was knocked around, this time to a sufficient degree that automatic restraints snapped into place on the chairs of the bridge, holding the personnel firmly in their seats.

"-fierce," Margolin persevered, as if the severe buffeting were only a minor inconvenience designed to slow down the dissemination of information. "It's interfering with our sensors."

"Compensate, Mr. Margolin. Give me a hailing frequency to the Chance."

"You're on, Commodore."

"Chance, this is the USS Enterprise, please acknowledge."

There was no response from the smaller s.h.i.+p. There was, however, continued pounding from the waves of time distortion, and Data could practically sense time slipping away from him-in more than one sense of the word.

A second hail brought continued radio silence, and now Data gave an order that even he didn't quite believe. "Mr. Margolin," he said quietly, "arm phasers."

"Sir?" Margolin was thunderstruck.

They were all looking at Data with shock on their faces. Nevertheless, the commodore knew he had no choice. "Carry out my order, Mr. Margolin," he said quietly.

"Yes, sir," said Margolin hollowly. "Phasers armed and locked on target."

"Mr. Blair, inform the transporter room that you and I will be beaming down to planet surface within two minutes. Attention Chance," Data continued, raising his voice and thereby activating the comm link. "Our phasers are armed and locked on you. Unless you respond immediately, we will he forced, in this state of emergency, to fire on you. Acknowledge or suffer attack. Acknowledge."

The inters.h.i.+p radio crackled to life immediately. came an irritated gravelly voice, "this is Captain Tennant of the Chance. What in h.e.l.l do you think you're playing at?"

"I believe," responded Data, "that the same could he asked of you, Captain."

"We're simply obeying orders," shot back Tennant, "as part of a confidential mission, the contents of which I am not at liberty to disclose. Not even to one of the flags.h.i.+p vessels of the fleet."

"Disclosing them would be pointless," Data said. "I have no doubt that they are utter fabrication. I would a.s.sume radio silence is one of those orders. One moment, please." Data turned to Margolin. "Are we within range of the Forever World yet?"

"Yes, sir."

"Raise them... Captain Tennant," Data continued the first conversation, "am I correct about the a.s.sumption of radio silence?"

"Yes, you are. And to be blunt, I'm jeopardizing the safety of that mission by conversing with you. But with the safety of my crew on the line, I decided to acknowledge your hail, in direct contradiction of my orders."

"Excellent judgment, Captain," said Data calmly. "Am I also correct in a.s.suming that Admiral Riker is not there?"

"That is correct. He beamed down to the surface fifteen minutes ago. He told us to maintain orbit and radio silence."

"That does not surprise me."

'Sir," said Margolin, "we're unable to raise anyone on the surface."

"That also does not surprise me. Transporter room, can you lock on any life-forms on the surface? If so, I want them all beamed up immediately."

There was a pause as the transporter chief ran a quick scan. Then her voice came over the comm: "Negative, bridge. Readings are too sketchy. If someone is down there and gives us coordinates, that's not a problem. But as it is, I'd be afraid to try and lock on and bring something up. I might get nothing at all, or maybe a puddle of protoplasm. There's no predicting without solid confirmation."

"Very well. Mr. Blair," said Data, "with me."

Data crossed quickly to the turbolift, Blair right behind him. Almost as an afterthought, Data called out, "Chance... maintain position. We will inform you if there is anything you can do."

"Enterprise, would you mind telling us what's going on?" came the voice of Captain Tennant. "Admiral Riker said that we were being commandeered as part of a top-secret mission for Starfleet. He even had orders-"

"I'm sure he did," said Data. "I a.s.sure you, however, they were forged. You are on a mission, Chance... but it's not on behalf of Starfleet. It's on behalf of Admiral Riker."

"What? What in h.e.l.l is this about, Enterprise?"

"Don't concern yourself about it, Captain Tennant. Whether the admiral's mission succeeds or not... either way, you'll never know. Enterprise out." And then he cut the transmission rather than waste more time.

After all, the entire conversation might end up being moot.

When Data and Blair arrived on the planet's surface, they discovered precisely what they thought they would find.

The bodies of the scientists were scattered about. A quick inspection revealed that they were alive, but clearly phaserstunned. Riker must have secreted a small hand unit... perhaps several... on his person. He'd done it in such a way that Tennant hadn't known... otherwise he'd certainly have let Enterprise know about it.

What tissue of lies had Riker constructed? Data wondered as he and Blair quickly made their way across the compound. Sindareen scheme? Romulan incursion? Or perhaps the Ferengi were up to their old tricks? There was no end to the possibilities that an inventive mind could conjure, and Riker's mind was as inventive as anyone's.

Data scanned the entire area and came to an immediate realization. "Mary Mac is not here."

"Which means-"

"She's with him," concluded Data. "Odds are it's an unwilling accompaniment."

Above them the air swirled and crackled, and more than once lightning lanced across the sky. Data felt forces gathering around him, as if some ma.s.sive, insane celestial experiment were in the works.

Quickly they ran through the compound, small bits of dirt and rock swirling around in whirlpools that moved, Data noticed, in opposite directions from one another. Somehow that seemed perfectly in keeping with the rest of the environment.

"He's crazy," Blair was muttering. "He's completely crazy."

"No, Mr. Blair," Data replied, speeding up slightly. "He's not crazy at all. He's merely determined, and certain he is doing the right thing."

The wind grew louder, and Blair raised his voice. "And what if he is? How do we know for sure?"

"We don't. But we cannot take the chance."

They raced to the top of an outcropping. Far, far in the distance, the ruins of the city were still there, as silent and unproviding, of information as they had ever been. There below them was the Guardian of Forever.

The protective force field surrounding it was intact.

Riker, however, was on the inside.

So was Mary Mac. He had a firm grip on her wrist, but now she was struggling with the fierceness of her Orion heritage. Her teeth were bared, her fingernails flas.h.i.+ng. Riker had been holding a tricorder, but it had clattered to the ground. Data saw that Riker needed both hands to keep off her savage onslaught.

She was shouting something that even Data, with his supersensitive hearing, couldn't make out over the howling of the winds. And then Data also saw, on the large screen that had been erected nearby the Guardian, events being played out that were horribly familiar. There was Deanna Troi, on the floor of her quarters, writhing and gasping, and a terrified and confused Commander Riker leaning over her, looking more helpless than he ever had in his life. On the ground nearby, the fallen tricorder continued to record the information with precision.