All Good Things__ - Michael Jan Friedman [10]
Abruptly, they were interrupted by a voice on the intercom net. “Worf to Captain Pieard.” The captain looked up. “Go ahead, Lieutenant.”
“Sir, there is an incoming transmission from Admiral Nakamura. It is a Priority One message.”
Priority One? Crusher knew that Starfleet didn’t use that designation lightly. Jean-Luc turned to her. “Beverly?”
She knew what he wanted—and she had no objec-tions. “Go ahead,” she said. “Use it if you like.” The captain nodded by way of a thank-you. “Mr. Worf,” he instructed, “route the communication through to Dr. Crusher’s office.” “Aye, sir,” replied the Klingon. “Rerouting…”
As Jean-Luc started across sickbay, the chief medical officer sighed. She hoped that Nakamura didn’t want too much of the captain. It wasn’t as if he didn’t have enough on his mind.
CHAPTER
5
Entering the doctor’s office, Picard sat down at her desk and activated the desktop monitor. After a mo-ment, the solemn visage of Admiral Nakamura appeared on tho screen.
“Captain,” said the admiral:
“Admiral,” returned Picard. One didn’t drag out Priority One messages with small talk.
Nakamura shifted slightly in his chair. “Jean-Luc, I’m initiating a fleetwide yellow alert. Starfleet intelligence has picked up some disturbing reports from the Romulan Empire.”
“What sort of news?” asked the captain:
The admiral frowned. “It appears that they’re mobi-lizing for something. At least thirty Warbirds have been pulled from other assignments and are heading for the Neutral Zone.”
That was disturbing news indeed. “Is there any indication why they would make such a blatantly aggressive move, Admiral?”
“Perhaps,” said Nakamura. “Our operatives on Romulus have indicated that something is happening in the Neutral Zone—specifically, in the Devron system. Our own long-range scans have picked up some kind of spatial anomaly in the area, but we can’t tell what it is—or why the Romulans might have taken an interest in it.”
“I see,” responded Picard. “And what are our or-ders?”
The admiral scowled. “As you can imagine, this is a delicate situation. I’m deploying fifteen starships along our side of the Neutral Zone. And I want you to go there as well—to see if you can find out what’s going on in the Devron system.”
The captain pondered his instructions. “Am I authorized to enter the Zone?” he inquired.
Nakamura shook his head. “Not yet. Wait and see what the Romulans do. You can conduct long-range scans, send probes if you wish… but don’t cross the border unless they cross it first.” “Understood,” Picard assured him.
“Good luck,” said the admiral. And with that, his image vanished, replaced with the official insignia of Starfleet. Turning off the monitor, the captain stood…
… and felt a sudden wave of vertigo wash over him. He felt himself falling… falling… reaching out… until he was caught by a pair of strong arms.
Looking up, he saw that it was La Forge who had rescued him. The man’s face was puckered with concern.
“Captain… what’s wrong?” he asked.
With his friend’s help, Picard steadied himself and looked around. His family’s vineyard seem to stretch out forever in every direction. But… that wasn’t right, was it? He didn’t belong in the vineyard… or didn’t…
“Is something wrong, sir?” pressed La Forge.
The older man tried to think. “I don’t know,” he responded. “I… I wasn’t here a moment ago …. “
His visitor’s worry lines deepened. “What do you mean? You’ve been right here with me, sir.”
Picard groped for an answer. He tried to concentrate, to remember… but the damned Irumodic syndrome kept dragging down his every effort.
If only he were younger. If only his mind hadn’t deteriorated. If only…
Stop it, he told himself. You’re not going to get anywhere feeling sorry for yourself. Now, what happened to you? Try to remember, dammit.
“No,” he said at last. “I wasn’t here. I was somewhere else… a long time ago.” He concentrated harder. “I was talking to someone …. ” And then it came to him. Beverly… “Beverly was there.”
He