A Call to Darkness - Michael Jan Friedman [15]
“Noted,” said Riker. He was glad now that he’d opted to keep the shields up, that he’d been prepared for any eventuality from the start-even if it had seemed like over-preparation just a few hours ago. “Mister Crusher, continue to scan. If the Mendel’s in there, we’ve got to find it somehow. Maybe as we get closer, the mantle will become a little more penetrable.”
“Aye, sir,” said Wesley.
The first officer stroked his beard with thumb and forefinger. As they approached the golden ball, questions came to him. Some easy to answer, some not so easy.
What was that energy field all about?
That was one of the easy ones. Obviously, the Klah’kimmbri wanted some privacy from prying eyes.
Why? What was it they wanted to keep private?
That was a little harder.
Was it simply a matter of defense? If so, why were there no working outposts? No satellites or ships or other, simpler ways of keeping intruders at arm’s length?
A harder one still.
And what would the Klah’kimmbri be defending against? Or more to the point, who? Was there a new aggressor in this sector-one they should be aware of?
He couldn’t even guess.
But as they approached A’klah-and very likely, the end of their mission-he wished he had more answers. He had a feeling they might come in handy.
Picard could not begin to count the number of orders he had followed in the course of his career with Starfleet. Apparently, he had followed them well enough, or he would never have been placed in command of a ship like the Enterprise.
It was ironic, then, that be should have so much trouble following his own directives. Perhaps familiarity did breed contempt.
Here he had instructed his command staff to relax during their off-duty hours. But instead of heading for a recreational area, he had come directly to his quarters. And too contrary-minded to even get some sleep, he had paced the length and breadth of them-which is just what he would have done if he’d remained on the bridge.
This is getting you nowhere, he told himself. Nor is it any help to Dani.
Picard had met Abraham Orbutu more than twenty years ago. They were assigned to the same colonization team on Cassiopeia Gamma Four-he as Starfleet liaison, Orbutu as survey zoologist. The two of them hit it off right from the start-and no wonder. Picard had always had an interest in zoology-had in fact considered it as his life’s pursuit after his initial failure to get into Starfleet Academy. In a similar vein, Orbutu would gladly have traded his zoologist’s credentials for a chance to serve aboard a starship-were it not for a rare brain dysfunction that caused him to black out under duress.
What’s more, Orbutu spoke fluent French, having been educated in Tangiers back on Earth. It was rare to find someone with whom Picard could converse in his mother tongue, much less someone as jovial and entertaining as big, broad-shouldered Orbutu.
The stint on Cassiopeia Gamma Four had lasted only a few months, but their friendship went on long after that. Orbutu eventually married and had a family, and finally-after an incident in a Glorgothan jungle during which his dysfunction almost claimed his life-grudgingly returned to Earth to teach at his alma mater.
It was shortly after that that Orbutu’s daughter followed in his footsteps. A bright and pretty young woman with her father’s sense of humor, Dani began corresponding with Picard on her own after her first assignment in space. Once, they had even managed to cross paths on Starbase 19-she making a transfer en route to a zoology conference, he in for the Enterprise’s scheduled maintenance check. They had spent a delightful few hours there, trading stories about the elder Orbutu and discussing Dani’s future with the Survey Service.
He remembered how eager she had been to join a research mission out of Starbase 84-one that was headed out beyond the pall of Federation space. Months later, he learned that she had gotten the berth she wanted-zoologist and second medical officer-thanks in some part