All Good Things__ - Michael Jan Friedman [6]
To his knowledge, La Forge had never set foot in the ship’s botanical gardenwmuch less acquainted himself with Terran parasites. He’d been far too busy running herd over the ship’s engines.
“My wife is quite a gardener,” La Forge explained. “I’ve picked up a little bit of it. I mean… when you live with somebody who eats and breathes the stuff, it’s hard not to. Just the other day, she spent hours planting a single flower. Something real fragile… a b’lednaya, I think she called it.”
Without asking permission, he picked up a small length of shielded wire off the ground and began tying some of the vines. Satisfied—and yes, surprised—that his friend was taking the proper care, Picard knelt down beside him. “How is Leah?” he asked.
La Forge chuckled softly. “Busier than anyone has a right to be~even when she’s not planting flowers. She’s just been made director of the Daystrom Institute. That means she’ll be working harder than ever~but it’s something she’s always wanted.”
Picard nodded, duly impressed. “The Daystrom Institute, eh? And what about the little ones… Bret and Alandra? And, er…” He tried to remember the last one’s name.
Fortunately, his companion supplied it. “And Sidney. They’re not so little anymore, Captain. Bret’s applying to Starfleet Academy next year. His teachers think he’ll make it, too—if he can beef up a little more on his quantum mechanics.” The older man swore under his breath. “Incredible,” he remarked. Then, looking up at his visitor: “So what brings you here?”
La Forge kept his eyes focused on the vines he was tying. “Oh… I just thought I’d drop by. You know how it is. I’d been thinking about the old days on the Enterprise, how much fun we used to have… and anyway, I was in the neighborhood…”
Picard smelled a rat. “Don’t give me that,” he rasped. “You don’t make the trip from Rigel Three to Earth just to… to drop by. It’s…” He tried to think of how many light-years, but finally gave up. “A long way,” he finished lamely.
La Forge swallowed. He was no more skilled at deception now than he had been a quarter of a century ago.
“Yes,” he agreed. “I suppose it is.” Picard eyed him. “So you’ve heard,” he pressed. The younger man turned to him. “Well,” he confessed, “Leah has a few friends at Starfleet medical, you know? And word has a way of getting around… especially when it concerns someone of your stature.”
Picard flushed with indignation. “I’m not an invalid, you know. Irumodic syndrome can take years to run its course.”
La Forge nodded. “I know. But when I heard, I just… I wanted to come by all the same.”
The older man looked at his friend for a moment. La Forge hadn’t meant to offend him… just to lend some support. Certainly, he didn’t deserve to be condemned for that. When Picard spoke again, his voice was softer, less cantankerous. “Well,” he said, “as long as you’re here, you can help me carry in some of these tools.” La Forge grinned. “It’s a deal,” he said.
Awkwardly, and not without some pain, Picard got to his feet. “My cooking may not be up to Leah’s standards,” he warned. “But I can still make a decent cup of tea.”
Grabbing an armful of his farming implements, he saw his visitor do the same. Together, they started walking toward the house where Picard had been raised. It was barely visible around the bend of the hill.
“By the way,” said the vintner, “I read your last novel. ú Not bad, not bad at all.”
“Really?” replied La Forge. Like a great many authors before him, there was something of the small child about him, seeking approval.
The captain nodded. “Really. It had a certain, er… authenticity to it that I found quite refreshing. Of course, I didn’t like the main character all that much… what was his name?” “Patrick.”
“Patrick, of course. Not quite the fellow I would have chosen t() run my ship. But that’s just my own, personal…”
Suddenly, Picard stopped dead in his tracks. Standing in the vineyards, not fifty meters away, was a trio of the sorriest, scraggliest excuses for human beings that he’d ever seen.
He didn’t recognize any of them. In fact, he’d never seen them