All Good Things__ - Michael Jan Friedman [61]
Pointing into the depths of the pond—at something no human could hope to discern, ofcourse—Q provided a blow-by-blow description of the action. “Here they go… the two proteins are moving closer… closer … closer…”
Suddenly, he recoiled, disappointment etched into his features. “Oh, no! Why… nothing happened! Nothing at all!”
Picard stared at him through eyes rubbed raw by primordial pollution. “What do you mean, nothing happened? Don’t tell me you stopped it!”
Q looked at him and wagged his finger. “Now, Jean-Luc, we’ve talked at length about your incessant need to blame me for all your problems. You did this all by your lonesome, I assure you.” The captain frowned. “I did nothing, Q.”
Q stood. “Au contraire.” He pointed to the sky. “You did that. And that disrupted the beginning of life.”
Removing the pair of dice from his pocket, he showed them to Picard. “You see? Snake eyes. You lose.”
The captain glanced at the dice. They had turned up snake eyes, all right. But the dice weren’t the ultimate arbiter of his fate; they couldn’t be.
Despite the omens Q had presented to him, there was still a chance that he would find a way out of this… a way to preserve humanity. He looked up, intending to question Q further…
… and realized he was looking at Deanna Troi instead. By her uniform and her hairstyle, he could tell that he was back in the past.
It was funny how well he was adjusting to his transits through time. The feelings of disorientation were now at a minimum.
Looking around, he saw that he was on the bridge. O’Brien, Data, Tasha, and Worf were at their usual stations.
Troi spoke as if she were answering a question he had just posed to her. “Dr. Selar has reported that twenty-three children on board have contracted some kind of illness. She said their tissues appear to be… reverting to some earlier state of development.” Oh, no, he thought. Not here, too.
She paused, well aware that he wouldn’t like what she had to tell him—not knowing he appreciated the nature of the problem better than she did. “She thinks it’s being caused by the anomaly, sir.”
Picard nodded, then turned to Tasha. “Lieutenant, inform Starfleet Command that we believe the anomaly has toxic effects.”
“I already have,” she said. A beat. “They’ve ordered us to withdraw from the Neutral Zone and to escort the pilgrim ships back to Federation territory.”
The captain considered the order grimly. “Tell Starfleet we’re remaining here,” he replied. “However, we’ll tell the pilgrim ships to withdraw.” He turned to the android. “Mr. Data, as soon as the tachyon scan is complete, I want you to—”
Tasha interrupted. “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that, sir.”
Picard was surprised. He faced her. “What?”
The security chief straightened, her resolve evident in her every feature. “We’ve received direct orders to leave the Neutral Zone, sir. There are children dying— children we may be able to save if we act now. And our presence here is in direct violation of the Treaty of Algeron.”
The captain remained calm, despite the stakes they were playing for. “Are you questioning my orders, Lieutenant?”
Tasha took a breath. “Yes, sir… I am. And unless you take this ship back to Federation territory… I’m prepared to relieve you and take command of this vessel.”
Picard hadn’t been prepared for that. He looked around and saw that the rest of the bridge crew was watching the confrontation.
Obviously, he told himself, this was going to be a lot more difficult than he’d anticipated. Picard eyed Tasha. He wanted to tell her that they would grow to know and trust each other. He wanted to say that, one day, she would be willing to lay down her life for him.
But he couldn’t. He had to tread a thin line here, and apprising his ocers of what was in store for them was outside that line.
For now, all he could do was appeal to his officers’ pride and integrity… their sense of justice and disci-pline. And then hope that that would be enough.
“Lieutenant, you are coming close to mutiny,