Dark Mirror - Diane Duane [45]
Geordi blinked at the sight of her, then grinned widely. “Counselor, I’m envious. You’ve got more on than I have!”
Troi smiled. “Probably just by a few percentage points, I think. I take it we’re about ready?”
Geordi nodded. “We’re loading in some provisions—we had to strip the replicator out: no room for it. Everything else is aboard.”
“I brought a copy of this,” Troi said, holding up a chip. “The view we got of the other Troi, and the other La Forge. We’ll have about an hour or so on impulse before we reach the beam-in point?” Geordi nodded. “A little more time to spend studying these, then.”
“Very well,” Picard said. Behind him the corridor doors opened again. Riker came in and stood quietly behind Picard, but Picard knew where Riker’s attention was turned and found it completely understandable.
“It seems inadequate to wish you luck,” Picard said. “But I do. Complete your mission and come back safely, as quickly as you can.”
They nodded and got into the shuttlecraft; its door sealed down, and the whisper of the maneuvering system came up softly as it began to warm toward ready. The engineering crew headed quickly out of the shuttle bay, until only Picard, Riker, O’Brien, and Hwiii remained, watching. Then Picard turned toward the doorway.
“Number One,” he said, to spare Will the pain of remaining the extra few seconds, and headed off for the bridge, the others following him, the doors shutting softly behind them.
CHAPTER 6
There was no sound in the shuttlecraft but the soft hum of its impulse engines and a different small sound, one Troi had never noticed before, made by the transporter: a tiny, soft, continuous “shimmer” of sound that mirrored the larger sound made during transport. Deanna sat and listened to it, using the slight, soft phasing she heard in the sound as a focus to help keep herself centered and calm. It needed a fair amount of doing.
Beside her, Geordi was gazing at the screen, watching the brief recording of his counterpart in the other Enterprise’s engine room. “I don’t see much difference, Counselor,” he said, glancing up at Deanna.
“There is some, though. Computer, stop. Reverse to”—she eyed the display— “44002.2.” The image raced backward, blurred, then froze on the other Geordi, standing over the master engineering console. He swung away from it after a moment, walked into one of the ancillary bays, and leaned over one of his staff working there. “He swaggers a little,” Deanna said. “Look at the extra arm movement. Computer, repeat.”
Geordi watched the screen thoughtfully. “I’m still not sure I see it.”
“Wait for it. It comes up again.” They watched together as the other Geordi nudged the crewman whose work he was supervising—not a friendly gesture—and moved on back to the main console.
“Hands-on management,” Geordi muttered, not liking the look of it. “It is a swagger, though. Look at that.” He shook his head. “I can’t do that.”
“Don’t try to mimic the movement. Just be familiar with it. It’s going to be more effective to try to think yourself into the mind-set that causes the motion. Look at his face instead.”
“I’ve been trying to avoid it,” Geordi muttered, but he ran the recording back again and did so. There was a curl to the other La Forge’s lip that suggested emotions normally alien to Geordi: a nasty enjoyment of someone else’s discomfiture, at the very least. Troi viewed the expression on the counterpart La Forge’s face with nearly as much unease as she had felt on first seeing her own face set in that very alien mold—the chilly look, the look of luxurious superiority, of pleased domination. Nonetheless, these were the people she and he had to be, at least for a little while, if they were to do