Part 15 (1/2)
Lwaxana opened her mouth for a moment and then closed it again. ”So I was,” she said in a neutral tone.
”If I do this,” he continued, ”will it... please you?”
”Only if it will please you,” replied Deanna.
”It will please me ... but only if-”
The door to Alexander's room flew open, Alexander stuck his head out, and he fairly shouted, ”Will you just do it, Father, so you can get married and I can get some sleep?!” And he slammed the door shut again.
The adults looked at each other.
”When do we start?” asked Worf.
CHAPTER.
I om Riker was going out of his mind with boredom.
He had completely lost track of how long he had been cooped up in the brig of the Romulan warbird. Day pa.s.sed into night with no clear delineation, which might have been as much by design as anything else. It was as if they were trying to destroy his internal rhythm, throw him off and thus make him more susceptible to ...
... to what?
What were they planning to do to him? What the h.e.l.l did they have in store? Had they seen through his charade somehow? Were they just trying to make him crazy out of pure Romulan sadism? What was their plan? They have to have a plan, he kept telling himself, there must be a plan. They wouldn't have mounted a raid to rescue Saket just out of nowhere. There had to be a reason for it, had to be something they wanted.
Except, since Saket was dead, there was the possibility that it was all moot. He might have been the key to whatever it was they wanted to do, and with him gone, the door was locked tight and the key was gone. In which case, they might just be busy trying to decide what would be the most painful way to dispose of Riker.
Then one day (night?) Riker heard the sound of marching feet. Since it was the first time that he'd detected such p.r.o.nounced stomping, he could only surmise that it was being done for his benefit. They wanted him to know they were coming, probably to scare the h.e.l.l out of him. But Tom Riker, at that point, was too tired and aggravated and just plain bored to feel anything more than impatience. He figured, Let's just get it over with.
The perpetual guard at his door stepped to one side as two more guards stepped into view. One of them reached up and shut off the field guarding the exit. Without a word, he gestured for Riker to emerge. For a moment, Tom considered the option of just folding his arms, crossing his legs, and refusing to budge. Try to provoke some sort of reaction from them. The thought gave him some small amount of satisfaction; on the other hand, the thought that it might prompt them to simply blow a hole in him the size of a sunspot prompted him to err on the side of discretion. As a result, Tom Riker stood and walked into the corridor.
They had not even bothered to draw their weapons. This was a bit of arrogant overconfidence that Riker couldn't help but feel the desire to test. One guard was in front of him, the other behind him. He stood there for a moment, poised on the b.a.l.l.s of his feet, looking for all the world as if he were completely relaxed.
Then he made his move, darting toward the guard in front of him.
He actually managed to get three whole inches before the guard had his disrupter in his hand.
Riker had never seen a draw quite that fast. And he had the sneaking suspicion that, were he to turn around, he would see that the guard behind him likewise had a weapon trained on him. He risked a glance over his shoulder and, sure enough, he was looking down the barrel of a weapon. Without moving an inch, Riker casually took his outstretched hand and tried to move it, in a graceful manner, to the back of his neck, which he idly scratched. ”You boys are jumpy,” he observed, as if he had made no effort at all to attack them.
They didn't buy it. He knew they wouldn't. But they didn't seem to care particularly, either. Without further holdups on Riker's part, they walked down the corridors of the vessel. Very quickly Riker lost track of which hallway led into what. He had a feeling that that, likewise, was by intent. The last thing they wanted him to do was learn his way around the s.h.i.+p. But they wouldn't want simply to blindfold him, since that would make it too obvious that they were concerned that he could do them harm.
After what seemed the hundredth angle around yet another corner, they stopped in front of a door. It slid open and Riker, at their urging, entered. He looked around in confusion. It appeared to be a bathroom and dressing room, with a sonic shower in the corner, and a set of clean, pressed Romulan-style clothes draped over a chair. Fancy it most definitely was not, but it was definitely serviceable.
”What's this for?” he asked.
”You. Shower and then change clothes.”
”Why?”
”Because you stink,” the shorter of the two guards said reasonably. ”Humans give off an odor that Romulans find distasteful. You are fairly reeking of it.”
”Sorry. What with my being a prisoner and all, I probably sweated a bit more than I usually do.”
Admittedly the attempt at humor was lame, but Riker felt that at the very least the guard could have tried to crack a smile. Such was not to be as he simply regarded Riker with an unsmiling face. When he was certain he had Riker's attention, he continued, ”After you have cleaned yourself, you will put on those clothes and follow us.”
”Where to?”
He should have known he wasn't going to get an answer, but rather just another cold stare. Knowing there was no point to fighting about or arguing over the matter, he stepped into the room and showered as quickly as he could ... even though his impulse was to revel in it since it was the best he had felt in weeks. He dressed just as quickly and then stepped back out into the corridor. As near as he could tell, the guards had not moved so much as a centimeter from where they had been when he left them.
They went the rest of the way in silence, and then the guards halted in front of a set of doors. Clearly this was where they had been a.s.signed to bring Tom. Riker wasn't sure what to expect when he walked in, although he was mentally prepared for anything, up to and including an abrupt barrage of phaser fire. For all he knew, this was the famed Romulan sense of humor about to display itself for his amus.e.m.e.nt.
Curiously, he was not expecting what he found.
There was a small table elegantly adorned, with a tall, thin candle flickering in the middle. It was the only source of light in the room. Food was laid out, not in abundance, but in sufficient quant.i.ty nonetheless and actually prepared to appear palatable. Seated on the far side of the table was Sela. She was still in uniform, but she had removed some of the armor pieces so that she appeared softer, if not exactly warm and cuddly. And she was actually smiling. For a moment, just a moment, Riker mistook her for someone else, so gentle were the lines in her face. Then he remembered that she was supposed to be a half-breed, born of an Earthwoman named Tasha Yar and a Romulan n.o.ble. Riker found himself wis.h.i.+ng that he had known Tasha Yar ... and then had to remind himself that William Riker had known Tasha, and he would be well advised to remember that.
”Sit,” she said, gesturing to the seat opposite her. Tom did so, his gaze never leaving her. She laughed, and it was a surprisingly musical noise. He had a feeling that she rarely did it. ”You never take your eyes off me. Either you are utterly enamored of me, or else you are concerned that I'm going to slide a blade between your ribs.”
”Let's just say a little bit of both.”
”Fair enough. Eat.” When she saw his hesitation, she reached over with a utensil, speared a piece of meat off his plate, and ate it. ”See? No poison.”
He pointed to another section of the plate and said, ”That one.”
She sighed. ”You think I would eat off the 'safe' part and leave the rest to you. I may be part human, but I'm beginning to wonder if you may be part Romulan.” She ate from the indicated section as well without hesitation. ”Satisfied?”
”Of course, it could be a poison that works on humans and not Romulans.”
”Perhaps. But as I just noted, I'm half human, so I would be at risk.” She leaned forward, interlaced her fingers and rested her chin on them. She actually looked almost playful. ”Riker, this is ridiculous. We have matters to discuss in which trust will be involved. If we can't even get past an entree, what is the point? Now eat the d.a.m.ned food or I'll blow you out an airlock, all right?”
Riker ate. In point of fact, the food wasn't too bad. A bit bland to his taste, but certainly palatable.
”Tell me about my mother.”
The question caught him momentarily off guard. ”You mean Tasha?”
She nodded. ”I have hated her for many years, for betraying my father and leaving me. But...”
He might have been imagining it, but she actually seemed slightly to have let her guard down at the moment.
”I have ... so few memories of her. She died when I was quite young. She... used to tell me stories. Fantasy stories. She spoke of giants, and magicians ... and genies. Genies in a bottle where you would open the bottle and all your wishes would come true.” She paused and then said, ”I know, I know, it's very confusing ... your records show that Tasha Yar died on some misbegotten planet somewhere, and yet she wound up on the bridge of the Enterprise-C as a lieutenant in Starfleet even though she'd really only been born a couple of years previously ... I know all that, I understand that. Well... I think I understand it. That the Tasha you served with wasn't necessarily the same woman. But even so, there must have been some similarities. So ... tell me what you know of her ... knew of her...”
The problem was that Riker didn't know all that much about her. Will Riker did, of course, but not Tom. Then again, it didn't really matter if he kept it vague.
”She was ... a superb officer. Brave. Dedicated. She was beautiful... and funny ...”
”Funny?” Sela frowned. ”I don't remember her ever being particularly ... funny ...”
”Well... considering what she'd been through ... perhaps she wasn't feeling very humorous by the time she had you.”