Imzadi. Part 32

Data gestured for Blair to follow and the two Starflect officers made their way quickly down toward the Guardian.

Mary Mac swung Riker's arm around and clamped down with her teeth. Riker howled in pain and slammed her in the face with as hard a punch as he could remember ever using. Mary Mac released her grip and staggered, wiping at the blood trickling down her mouth.

"You'll destroy everything!" she shouted.

"This 'everything' has no right to be!"

"You're not the one to make that decision!"

"Wrong! I'm the only one!"

She leaped at him again, a feral snarl ripping from her throat. Riker ducked and she sailed over him, and he stood quickly, catching her in midlunge. Before she could make a countermove, he deliberately threw himself backward and body-slammed her to the ground. He twisted quickly around while she was stunned and, giving it everything he had, slugged her on the side of the head. The green-skinned woman's eyes rolled up into the back ofher head, and she went limp.

Quickly Riker felt under her chin and checked her pulse. He wasn't entirely sure what was normal for an Orion, but this felt strong and firm. Good enough.

He grabbed his fallen tricorder and forced himself to he dispa.s.sionate as he programmed it. Carefully, he began to calibrate the tricorder to the enlarged screen designed specifically to display the Guardian's readouts. The tricorder would be able to measure the speed of the Guardian's actual display against the time-delayed playback of specific moments as depicted on the screen. Once it was all fed in and cross-programmed, the tricorder would be able to tell him exactly when to jump through the portal.

There would still be no guarantee of 100 percent accuracy. But it was the only shot that Riker had. His determination was to try to leap through as close to the actual event as possible. He knew that the longer he was back in the Enterprise 1701-D, the more chance he had of affecting things he wanted to leave alone. So he had to bring himself as near to Deanna's death as he could without missing it... while leaving himself enough time to do something about it.

His fingers flew over the tricorder's controls, cross-referencing the two displays. He programmed in, basically, a countdown. When the correct moment was approaching, a small green light on the tricorder would snap on. The moment that happened, Riker had to leap through precisely five seconds later... a built-in delay factor, as he had calculated how long the actual, physical act of taking two steps forward and jumping through would require.

"Guardian!" he shouted. "The display I just witnessed-on my mark, begin again. Three... two... one... now!"

Images began to coruscate across the face of the Guardian of Forever. The same dizzying blur that Riker had seen before. The primary command had been simple: Riker had asked to see the history of the Enterprise. The Guardian had proceeded to show it-except that the display had begun with the first event that the Guardian had considered to be instrumental to the creation of the mighty stars.h.i.+p. Unfortunately for Riker, that event had been the invention of fire. Images of beings that were barely recognizable as ancestors of humanity, cl.u.s.tered around a small pile of sparking wood, was hardly what Riker needed.

Fortunately enough, the Guardian was renowned for its speed. In an eyeblink Riker witnessed the creation of the wheel. the development of tools. They were wonders that, under other circ.u.mstances, Riker would have been spellbound to witness. As it was, he was merely impatient to get past them.

The tricorder's programming had brought it on line as soon as the Guardian began the playback. It hummed along silently, matching and timing the display. Inside its circuitry, the countdown had begun.

Riker patted the vial that he had hidden in his jacket.

"Admiral!" came the shout from behind him.

Riker spun, and he saw Blair and Data approaching. For a moment he was startled and even frightened that they would stop him when he was so near to his goal... and that he would never get another opportunity. But then he remembered the force screen that was serenely in place. "It won't do any good, Data!" Riker called. "My mind's made up!"

Data and Blair came to a halt just on the other side of the force field. Blair's thick fur was blown this way and that in the fierce windstorm that surrounded them. Data called out, "Is Mary Mac all right?"

Riker checked the Guardian. Leonardo da Vinci was stroking his chin thoughtfully, studying his designs for a primitive flying machine.

"She's fine, Data! She was less than cooperative when I forced her, at phaser point, to open up the forcefield. I told her I'd just stun her and used her handprint and retina pattern even if she was semiconscious. She chose to remain conscious, hoping that she could talk me out of this. And when she realized she couldn't, she seized a moment when I was distracted and tried to take me out. d.a.m.n near did, too," he said, rubbing the back of his neck ruefully.

"Admiral, you must turn away from this destructive course."

Riker glanced back at the Guardian. Alexander Graham Bell was just informing Watson that he needed him, and in an overlapping image, Thomas Edison was staring in wonderment at the glowing light in front of him.

"I'm going to save her, Data! For forty years, I've been eaten up by the thought that I should have done something! She begged me to... I promised that I would, and then all I did was stand there and watch her die!"

"She wouldn't have wanted this, Admiral! You're risking everything!"

"Don't you remember, Data?" called back Riker. "The name of James Kirk's autobiography?"

Data needed only a moment to recall it. "It was ent.i.tled Risk Is Our Business."

"d.a.m.n right! I owe Deanna nothing less than to try everything' You hear me, Data? Nothing less!"

"Admiral, if you do not come out of there immediately, I shall order the Enterprise to open fire and use s.h.i.+p's phasers to penetrate the force field! You may very well be destroyed if that happens!"

"And the Guardian might be as well!" shouted back Riker. He took a step toward the time gate. Seconds before, a Saturn V rocket had been lifting off. Now Zephram Cochrane was about to activate the first warp drive unit. "Would you do that, Data? Would you risk destroying the Guardian? Don't you see, Data? You've longed to understand humanity! You've longed for a soul! Well, Mr. Data-the Guardian is the resting place of all the souls, throughout all time! It's G.o.d's window on eternity! Who are you to destroy it?"

And with icy calm, Data replied, "I have already contacted Starfleet, Admiral. Their orders were very specific. Protect the time stream, no matter what. Deanna Troi must die... and if it takes the destruction of G.o.d's window, then who better, Admiral, to a.s.sume that responsibility? After all... I am not one of G.o.d's creatures." And Data angled his head upward and said, "Enterprise... target the s.h.i.+elding directly in front of me. On my command... fire."

"Don't do it, Mr. Data!" called Riker with genuine pleading in his voice. "Don't kill Deanna!"

"I did not kill her, Admiral. But if maintaining the integrity of the s.p.a.ce-time continuum were at stake, I would take her life with my own hands. I would derive no satisfaction from it. Indeed, the counselor was as dear to me in my own way as she is to you in yours. But I am prepared to accept that her death is a requirement in the natural order of things, and to preserve that order, I will do whatever I have to do."

Data had spoken with certainty and a sense of implacable decision. And Riker knew that lines had been drawn. "So will I, Mr. Data."

"Enterprise," said Data tonelessly. "Fire."

From orbit, the mighty phasers of the Enterprise cut loose. They struck the force field directly above Riker's head. The force field sparked and s.h.i.+mmered under the barrage, resisting the power of the weapons.

It was the strongest force field that Federation technology had to offer... on par with the deflector s.h.i.+elds of the Enterprise herself. Furthermore, the Forever World had been equipped with its own heavy-duty defense array, protected by similar s.h.i.+elds. If a hostile vessel had shown up, the scientists below could very easily have given a very formidable accounting of themselves-in all likelihood, blowing the attacking s.h.i.+p out of orbit.

But the Chance had not been a hostile vessel, and the renowned and esteemed Adm. William T. Riker was hardly considered to be a malevolent presence. It had been the scientists' error to take Riker's word that there was urgent Starfleet business to discuss.

By the time they had realized their mistake, it had been too late.

Data was trying to make up for that mistake now. He watched, stone faced, as the Enterprise pitted her phasers against the force field. That they would eventually penetrate, he had no doubt whatsoever. The question was whether they would break through in time.

Riker took a step back, watching the phasers with a sense of grim desperation. There was nothing he could do. He was trapped inside, and besides, getting out would simply put him farther from the Guardian. He heard a low moan behind him-Mary Mac was coming around. Perfect-that was all he needed.

The field began to buckle. He could see the power reserves straining, the field integrity collapsing. How incredibly ironic that here he was at the gateway to all time, and time was the one thing he did not have.

He glanced down at the tricorder.

The green light was glowing.

He emitted a horrified yell. He should have been standing in front of the Guardian the whole time, watching, monitoring, waiting for the signal to flash to life. Had it just come on? Had it been on for a few seconds?

Too far! his mind screamed. Too far from the Guardian!

He spun and charged at the gateway. The sand crunched beneath his hoots. On the display face of the Guardian, he saw a brief image of Q dancing with Lwaxana Troi, and then Locutus threatening the s.h.i.+p, and it was all merging and blending together...

"Admiral, we will stop you!" came Data's voice, rising above the wind and the screaming of the Enterprise phasers, and he heard Blair's voice shouting something as well.

No time! No time!

Help me, Imzadi... the voice seemed to reach back through the years.

Riker leaped.

And then he was out of time.

Literally.

CHAPTER 37.

Lieutenant Barclay stood in the holodeck of the USS Enterprise 1701-D and cracked his knuckles.

He knew that he shouldn't. He knew he might get caught. But the odds were slim. Captain Picard, Commander Riker, all the senior officers had been involved with a major diplomatic bash that evening. So the chances were that they wouldn't be anywhere near the holodeck that night.

Besides, he was off duty now. And he had pared down his holodeck activity to once a week. It wasn't interfering with anything important. And if he had his own ways of entertaining himself, well-as long as he didn't hurt anyone, and as long as he wasn't overdependent on it... well, where was the harm in that?

He had already informed the computer precisely what he wanted. Now he said simply, "Run program."

A moment later he was standing on a vast, gra.s.sy plain. Far in the distance, ancient Rome stood in all its glory. But right in front of him was a small temple, circular with tall pillars.

Standing in the middle of the temple was Deanna Troi. She was scantily clad in gauze, flowing robes. She extended her arms to him and in a musical lilt said, "I am the G.o.ddess of the mind."

Barclay started toward her, his voice robust and deep. "And I am the one who wors.h.i.+ps you... and whom you will wors.h.i.+p in return."

And at that precise moment, something else appeared on the holodeck-seemed to just step right out of nowhere.

Barclay stopped, utterly confused. It was a man in what appeared to be some sort of uniform. It even looked vaguely like a Starfleet uniform, but the coloring was different and- Then Barclay took a close look at the face.

"What the h.e.l.l...?" he breathed.

The new holodeck image, which appeared for all the world to be an older version of Riker, looked around in what seemed to he momentary disorientation. Then "Riker" turned, looked at Barclay, then to the image of Deanna, and back to Barclay. Riker put his hands on his hips and addressed Barclay with a voice of utter authority. "So... I should have known. Still at it, Lieutenant?"

In total confusion, Barclay called out. "Computer. Remove image of..." He wasn't sure what to call it. "Remove new image and run a systems check."

Riker merely stood there, showing no signs of disappearing. "l," he said, "am a holodeck failsafe, built in to monitor the types of programs you're engaging in, Mr. Barclay. I am very disappointed to see you still perpetrating such... bizarre... scenarios. I want it halted immediately." He pointed at Barclay sternly. "Is that clear?"

"Y-yes sir!" stammered Barclay uncomprehendingly. "Computer! Cancel this program! In fact... in fact, cancel all programs that I've created. As a matter of fact-cancel all my future partic.i.p.ation in holodeck activities!"

Rome, its environs, and the image of Deanna Troi, all vanished back into the nothingness they had come from. The only things remaining in the room were the glowing yellow grids, Barclay, and Riker.

"Very good, Lieutenant," said Riker approvingly.

"Are... are you going to go now, too?" asked Barclay hopefully. He had no idea why, of all images, an older Riker had been chosen. But whatever the reason, it was a d.a.m.ned effective selection. He was totally unnerved by it.

"Yes, I'm going to go, too," said Riker. "And I'll tell you what. If you don't mention this incident to anyone, then I won't, either. We'll keep it just between us."

"Th-thank you, sir," Barclay said.

The image of Riker headed for the door. Barclay waited for it to vanish, as all holodeck creations did if they tried to leave the holodeck. Instead the doors hissed open obediently, and the elder Riker walked out, turned left, and headed down a corridor. The doors hissed shut behind him.

Barclay stood there for a long time. And then he went out, turned right, and returned to his cabin.

He didn't go near the holodeck for the rest of his stay on the Enterprise.

Admiral Riker walked quickly down the corridor, looking neither right nor left. He pa.s.sed a couple of crewmen, some of whom did double takes upon spotting him. Perhaps they would a.s.sume that some uncle of Riker's had come to visit the s.h.i.+p, or maybe the commander was coming from some sort of costume function. He didn't slow down enough for anyone to get a really clear look at him, and he certainly didn't stop to answer any questions.

He had to get his bearings. Figure out precisely when he was. He could have asked Barclay, but he hadn't wanted the lieutenant to question his existence as anything other than some sort of confusing holodeck manifestation. It had saved him time-and he didn't know how much time he had.

He ducked into a room to his left that he knew was going to be vacant because it was one of the guest quarters. Once inside, he called out, "Computer! Tell me the stardate and time."

There were few moments in Riker's life that he could precisely remember down to the second of their occurrence. But the day and time of Deanna Troi's death was certainly one of those. He was able to recall the exact sound of Beverly Crusher's voice as she had labored to bring Deanna back to life. And when she had failed... when she had finally realized that nothing was going to help, and her best friend on the s.h.i.+p was forever gone... she had said, in a voice that sounded choked with dirt from a grave, "Record the time and date of death." The computer had obediently, and uncaringly, said it out loud for the record.

Riker had been standing there and had heard it-heard it punctuated by a choked sob from Beverly Crusher. There had been no noise from Riker himself-already the cloud was settling over him. The cloud that would cloak him for forty years.

Now, in the vacant guest quarters, the computer informed him of the day and time.

He felt his breath catch in his throat, the blood pounding in his temple.

He had hoped to arrive a day or two beforehand. Somehow, cautiously, make contact with Deanna. Inform her of what was to happen. Convince her, put her on guard. And even more importantly-give her the antidote for the poison that he had brought back with him, securely stored in his jacket.

He had known that it would he dangerous. Somewhere, somehow, Data might have sent people back, antic.i.p.ating his moves. Trying to block his plans. But Data would have to be judicious-he didn't want to upset the applecart of time, and he would be very, very careful as to what he did and how he did it. Riker had antic.i.p.ated that there would be something of a chess match of strategy, played out through the corridors of the Enterprise 1701-D.

But he had been wrong.

He didn't have time for subtlety. He didn't have time for finesse.

What he had was twenty-three minutes.

Twenty-three minutes from right now, until the point where Deanna Troi would be lying on Beverly Crusher's medtable, a lifeless bundle of flesh.

"d.a.m.n!" he snarled.

He charged out into the hallway, resetting his chronometer, and bolted down the corridor, running full-tilt toward Deanna's quarters.

His arms pumped furiously, and as he turned a corner, his pounding footsteps alerted a security guard. The guard turned, and Riker didn't recognize him. That, in and of itself, didn't mean anything. Even when he was the second-incommand, he didn't necessarily know every single crewman on sight-particularly if it was a relatively new arrival. And he wasn't even the contemporary Riker-forty years had pa.s.sed, and faces blurred with the years.

Then again-it might be someone sent back by Data.

The security guard frowned and started to reach for his phaser. "Hold it!" he called out.

Again, Riker had no way of knowing for sure. Certainly, with so many dignitaries presently on board the Enterprise, it would be standard operating procedure for guards to be on alert to anyone who didn't seem to belong there. And Riker certainly seemed out of place.

Then again-the "guard" might know precisely who the grayhaired man was, and what his mission was.

Riker raised an arm in front of his face to block the guard's view and slammed into him, knocking the younger man back before he could bring his phaser up. "Security alert, deck fourteen!" shouted the guard, and then Riker grabbed him up, pivoted, and slammed him headfirst into the wall. The guard went down, unconscious, and Riker scooped up his phaser.