Dark Mirror - Diane Duane [60]
Geordi smiled grimly. “There’s a Jeffries tube that feeds right into it, Captain. That’s one of the reasons I picked it. It can take a lot of time to get around this ship without being seen, by way of access tubes—but it can be done, and I know how to do it.”
“Very well,” Picard said. “Think about how you might get at either engineering or this La Forge’s quarters without being detected. At least we’re all still going to be in the primary hull: that’s a mercy. And I will find out whatever I can about exactly what these people want from us.”
“Our own communicators are working scrambled at the moment,” Geordi said. “I’ve changed the frequency to a very high one that even we don’t normally use. It shouldn’t trigger any alarms … as far as I know. But one thing you should notice, Captain—these people’s badges don’t seem to work as communicators. The ones on your counterpart’s uniforms appear to be just jewelry.” Geordi looked puzzled. “If you can, see if you can find out what those things are for, if they’re not for talking to each other, or being found.”
“Very well. Here, wait a moment.” Picard reached down to his counterpart and worked at his vest for a moment to remove several objects that stuck to the material in the same way the communicators did. They came away with a tug. “Decorations,” Picard said, putting the first few in place on his own tunic. “For what, I don’t like to think. But—” He finished, straightened up. “There. Get him out of here—and keep yourselves as safe as you can. Counselor, if you feel any major eruption of emotion on this ship that I should know about …” He touched his badge. “I’ve set this on vibrate rather than sound. Understand that there may be a pause between your call and my reply: I may have to get away from people and back to somewhere that I’m not likely to be scanned—probably here.”
“Yes, sir,” Troi said. “And, Captain —don’t forget your personal guard. For whatever reasons, they seem to be loyal to “y”’ here. They’re help you shouldn’t be afraid to use.”
He nodded. “The concept of such a group existing bothers me as it is, but the point is well taken. It appears, from what that one said”— he motioned with his head at the other Picard—”that your counterpart has a guard of her own. If you can get any sense of their movements, and let me know as need arises.”
“I’ll do my best,” Troi said. “There’s this at least: there are a lot fewer people on this ship to be kept track of. I haven’t sensed any children’s minds, and very few couples.”
Geordi looked up. “Come on, Counselor, Chief O’Brien’s got the coordinates.”
Reluctantly, Troi moved over to join him. “Energize,” Geordi said. And she and he and the alternate Picard were lost in shimmer and vanished away.
CHAPTER 7
Picard stood there in the silence for a moment, watching them go. He looked around the room and found it physically much the same. It was only small details that were changed, such as the uniforms hanging in the closet.
One thing was the same: the covered easel off to one side. He stepped over to it softly, tossed the cover back from it. The wood in the Luberon: the beams of sunlight strung on the woodland dimness like harpstrings; the tiny scrap of light, the wavering wings caught, frozen in a golden moment under the trees, among the honeysuckle. Picard shook his head. How can that man—he was carefully avoiding using the word I, for that would be a fallacy, possibly a fatal one—how can that man do this and still be what he is? Or be what he is—and do this? He thought of Data looking over his shoulder. That at least could never happen here. Data’s creator had been killed in a purge of scientists on his home planet: a great genius, shot out of hand for injudiciously expressing the wrong political opinions—that was to say, anything that didn’t support the Empire. It was not a universe that