Day of Honor 01_ Ancient Blood - Diane Carey [65]
“What?” Alexander pulled on Picard’s arm. “You mean, if my father doesn’t back Uncle Ross up, he could get hurt?”
Both men looked down at the boy, weighing need to know against the right to know.
“You’ve got to tell me!” Alexander insisted. “I’ve heard things!”
Picard paused, but realized he’d already crossed that bridge and, like the fleeting of youth, there was no turning back.
“Your father didn’t see the woman hurt her husband, Alexander. He can’t say he did.”
Alexander backed away a step and squared off in a position where he could look at both officers. “Why can’t he?”
The simplicity of youth was still effecting a cost despite all the rites of passage. Picard gazed into the boy’s determined eyes, but there was little assurance to be given.
“If he knows the truth happened,” Alexander persisted, “why can’t he say it happened?”
Picard drew his brows tight. “It’s a matter of honor, Alexander. For your father, it is.”
The boy looked at him, struggling. “But honor and truth are supposed to be the same, aren’t they? They go together, don’t they?”
“Number One, I’ve faced some of the most challenging adversaries in the galaxy. I’ve come up against the Borg, the Q, the Cardassians, Romulans, Orions, the Klingons, and even my own holodeck gone hog-wild, yet never have I been so paralyzed as I was five minutes ago, staring down at a boy with one damnably simple question.”
As the two men strode down the ship’s corridor toward the captain’s office, Commander Riker replied, “Sometimes facing the simple logic of a kid’s mind can be pretty daunting, sir.”
“It’s not the child. It’s the question.”
A work crew doing repairs on the bridge jumped out Picard’s way as he and Riker headed for the Ready Room. Picard chuckled inwardly at himself, thinking in terms of the Justina and not crowding the captain on the command deck. He stared briefly at the working ensigns, then his own knees, seeing beyond the Starfleet uniform to the 1777 Royal Navy breeches and jacket that now felt somehow as natural. He wished he were still wearing them. He felt as if he’d abandoned something, and ached to go back.
“Why didn’t I have an answer for Alexander?” he mourned. “Poor boy, he certainly deserved one.”
“Yes,” Riker said, settling down in the chair at one end of the couch. He smiled and his eyes sparkled devilishly. “After all, he’s a member of the crew.”
“Well, yes, he is,” Picard said, brushing away Riker’s attempt at a joke. “Everyone subject to the fate of any vessel over any stretch of time is a member of its crew. Alexander has a sense of self. He doesn’t just feel he’s part of the crew because of his father. He thinks that because of himself and his loyalties. He’s quite a young man.”
Riker smiled again. “Learning more than history, are we, sir?”
“On two fronts, I’m afraid,” the captain admitted as he watched two ensigns attempt to dislodge a heavy climatecontrol unit from the ceiling panels. “When I first began the program I never imagined either would take on this much substance. And this Odette Khanty is a poisonous creature.” Picard leaned back thoughtfully. “If Worf doesn’t back Grant up, Khanty can put her organization in place and the planet’ll never be rid of her. She’ll be the single most powerful person in the quadrant.”
“And you’ll never hear the end of it from Mr. Toledano.”
“Oh, I don’t care about—Good God!”
Picard nearly jumped out of his skin when a reddish-gold life-form vaulted from behind the couch and landed on his shoulder. Then the alien announced, “MMrrrrrrewwwww!” in his ear and put a paw on his nose.
“What—what is Mr. Data’s cat doing in my ready room!”
Riker reached over and scratched the cat’s neck. The amenable tabby arched in gratifying response and leaned into Picard’s ear. “Don’t you like cats, sir?”
“I can’t imagine what an android needs with a cat, Mr. Riker!” He shouldered the liquid creature down onto his elbow, and somehow the cat melted onto his lap from there.
“What does anybody ‘need’ with cats, sir?” Riker tortured.
“Well, I need this