Dark Mirror - Diane Duane [117]
The communicator under her fingertips buzzed. She read him the coordinates of the storage area quickly and said, “I’ll let you know as soon as anything else happens. Ou.”
She went quickly out and headed down the hall toward the turbolift, making for deck fourteen, where Geordi was. The timing on this is going to be very close, she thought. But she kept the fear out of her face and strode down the corridor with that proud, fierce look she had seen on the other’s face, thinking, in her mother’s best tone of voice, I am a daughter of the Fifth House. Who dares stand in my way?
No one did. Again she watched the looks on their faces, the fear, the concern, and felt a little sweet-sharp prickle of excitement, enjoyment, at it. Respect she had in plenty, back home, but not like this.
Deanna smiled ruefully at herself. The price was too high to pay: the temptations inherent in the enjoyment of others’ pain were too great. What does it matter how much you enjoy this kind of thing, if you lose your soul, your humanity? And it’s all too enjoyable.
She got into the ‘lift. “Deck fourteen,” she said, and waited for the doors to open.
Coming out, she heard the sounds almost immediately: sobs, a man’s voice weeping, that cheerful voice always full of such good humor. She set her face, set her tone of mind, and strolled down to the Booth, saying to the guard there, “Very well—that other matter’s in hand. Lower the setting on that—I’m going to take him out for a visit. The captain wants to see him.”
“Uh-oh,” the guard said, and started working over the panel.
“Take it slowly,” Deanna said, though everything inside her screamed, Hurry! She could feel what his nerves felt and was concerned that stopping this torment too abruptly might throw him into shock. “Good,” she said as the field cut out fully, and he collapsed finally to the floor of the platform like a puppet with its strings cut.
She unholstered her phaser. “Give me a hand up with him. He’ll get his legs back in a moment.”
The guard helped him up roughly. Geordi half-leaned, half-slumped against Troi, and she dug the phaser meaningfully into his ribs. “The captain wants to see you, mister,” she said, putting into the words all the ferocity she felt toward the people who had done this to him. “Let’s go.”
“Do you want some help with him, Counselor? He might—”
She turned cool eyes on the guard. “He’ll do nothing … but I thank you for your concern, Harrison.” She turned her back on him.
Together she and Geordi started down the hall, he lurching, she half-dragging him, trying not to make it show in her urgency. “Come on, Geordi,” she whispered in his ear, “we’ve got work to finish!”
Under the twitching, squeezed-shut eyelids, there was a moment’s convulsive movement of surprise, confirming the great wash of desperate joy and fear that went through him. The walking began to strengthen a little; the breathing became less labored. Deanna straightened, too, slowing her pace, conscious of the guard’s eyes on her from behind. It did not befit a daughter of the Fifth House to hurry through the halls, even on a matter of life and death. She walked on down the hall, haughty as a queen, and people she passed looked at Geordi and tsked at each other and grinned small grins—their emotions saying plainly that they knew Geordi was doomed. She ignored them. She would get him back to his quarters and do what she could to get him back in shape, and after that …
Heaven only knew. Or maybe the captain.
CHAPTER 14
Picard took his phaser, checked the charge on it, and went out in a rush.
He had never liked being out of control in a situation. He liked it less now than ever before in his life. The truth was that his officers were to