A Call to Darkness - Michael Jan Friedman [99]
“I know,” she said. “When you were very little, you sustained a wound-some sort of hunting accident. And since Klingons don’t believe in cosmetic surgery, you carry the scar to this day. In fact, it’s just below your…”
He growled dangerously. “Enough,” said Worf. “I believe you.” He lowered his voice, so that the others could not hear. “But how did you know?” he asked.
The female shrugged. “I’m your doctor, Worf. I know everything there is to know about you-at least, from a medical standpoint.”
That did not please him-nor did he disguise the fact. “You know so much about me-and I know so little about you. Not even your name.”
She chuckled. “Pulaski,” she told him. “Kate Pulaski.” And under the watchful eyes of her companions, she began untying the ropes that held him.
“Puh-laskee,” he repeated. He had heard some strange names in his time among the warriors, but that was one of the strangest.
Ensconced in the command center, Will Riker stared at the computer-enhanced image of A’klah on the viewscreen. He didn’t need the computer to remind him of the seconds ticking away.
All around him, ship’s personnel went about their duties. Like him, they were painfully aware of the time-though they didn’t show it. There was a tension in the air-a sense of expectation that was almost tangible.
Troi emerged from the turbolift and took her usual path across the bridge. Gracefully, she settled into her seat.
“You’re early,” said Riker.
“I know,” she answered. “But the Mendel’s people were all right for the time being. They’ve come to trust us, to feel secure.” A pause. “And I felt that I should be here right now.”
He tapped his fingers on his armrest. “Truth be told, Deanna, I’m glad you made that decision. It’s starting to feel a bit lonely at the top.”
A moment passed, during which he knew she was scanning his emotional ebb and flow. “Are you having a change of heart?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No-not really. How can I? There are twenty-six people down with that bloody disease now-not as many as Burtin predicted, but enough to scare the hell out of me.” He shifted in his seat. Suddenly, it seemed too small for him. “I don’t dare wait any longer. As soon as we make contact with Data, we’ll beam him up-along with whomever else he’s managed to round up. And that’s it. There’s no time for another extension on his deadline.”
Troi didn’t offer an opinion. That wasn’t her function. But she did probe to determine the full extent of his feelings.
“Can you live with yourself,” she asked, “if you have to leave the others behind? Or worse yet, if you have to abandon Data into the bargain?”
Riker thought about that, and not for the first time. “Good question,” he told her. “I wish I had an answer.”
Dov’rellir had been chosen as the marshals’ field headquarters because of its uselessness as a true fortress. Whoever built it had-remarkably enough-failed to reckon with the eminently negotiable trails that led down the mountainside into which it was built. Any invader could descend along those trails and plunk himself down into the fortress, as long as he took some care not to be spotted.
The assumption that no one would be crazy enough to attack a keep full of marshals only made Dov’rellir that much more vulnerable. It was a situation for which Dan’nor found himself grateful as he picked his way down the mountainside, darting from cover to cover.
Of course, once they got down into the fortress proper, it would be a different set of affairs. There was no way around the sheer numbers of the marshals-nor was there any telling how long he and Rin’noc and Ka’asot would be able to distract them while Ma’alor and the others carried out their real purpose here.
As Dan’nor reached a spot within a few meters of the battlements, he stopped and considered the courtyard below. The gallows at the center of it was easy to see-it dominated the open area. What’s more, there were two aerial monitors transmitting pictures of it from two different angles.
For a moment, he saw the tableau through the eyes of someone still in