Gulliver's Fugitives - Keith Sharee [14]
Crichton backed away from Picard. The captain was heating up.
“Let me make it simple for you, Crichton, and end this absurd search here and now. In our computer we have a complete copy of every notable piece of literature, art, and music ever produced by humankind, from the first paleolithic cave paintings right up to the present. Everything, no matter who banned it, in whatever country, for whatever reason. Not one word or image is missing. Got it?”
Troi’s attention was drawn to Ferris. The major was looking over at the one-eye while Crichton and Picard had their words. Filling the one-eye with his intent, Troi was sure.
Now Ferris waited for an order, which came immediately from Crichton.
“It’s time to return, Major Ferris,” he said. “Procedure Rhombus.”
“Yes sir. Procedure Rhombus.”
A clicking sound and then a mounting whine emanated from the one-eye as it glided around the two men from Rampart and took up a position in front of them. Flanges below the one-eye’s camera lens rotated and formed a hollow tube.
In the frontal lobes of security officer Timoshenko’s brain, a recognition dawned: the tube was a wave-guide, probably a weapon. His R-complex and limbic system became involved in the emergency. The alarm flashed out to a dozen different brain-loci of thought and action, bypassing any work on the problem of why, in favor of here and now.
Within the same second he was already drawing his phaser and shouting a warning to his fellow crew members.
But the one-eye had already intercepted his thought, acquiring him as a target, and the one-eye was faster. It fired.
A silent and invisible stream of radiation passed through Timoshenko’s chest, destroying all tissues it touched. He collapsed like a stricken bull.
Frazer, the other security man, was already drawing his phaser. Another blast of radiation from the one-eye caught him in the head and upper body, and he fell.
Riker, who had been standing next to Troi at the moment the attack began, pushed the counselor to the ground and managed to get both of them partially into a recessed doorway.
“Stay here,” he told her.
He peered around the corner of the bulkhead, just in time to see Ferris knock Picard cold.
A snarl escaped Riker’s throat. His rage swept away caution as he moved to help the man to whom he owed his own life many times over.
But the one-eye instantly read the burst of energy in Riker’s limbic system. It turned to face him. Riker realized he had no weapon. Frazer’s phaser was still in his lifeless hand, under his body. Timoshenko’s had skidded several meters away.
Ferris and Crichton watched Riker as they propped up the unconscious form of Picard.
Ferris let Picard go and came forward. It seemed to Riker as if he wanted to fight, wanted to abandon procedure in favor of a primitive need for enemy-blood.
Riker was surprised Ferris could do something so stupid. He got control of his own anger and looked for a way to exploit Ferris’ lapse.
“Major Ferris.” Crichton’s voice was like a bucket of cold water. “Let the one-eye do its job.”
Ferris held Riker’s stare for a moment and then stepped back. Riker could hear a whine build in the one-eye. He realized the one-eye was readying itself for firing. He searched around for a path of escape, and found none.
Suddenly Timoshenko, face white and sweating from the pain of his internal wounds, reached up and grabbed the one-eye from behind in a bear hug. His superb musculature momentarily overpowered the one-eye’s antigravs, and he pinned it to the floor under his torso.
He looked up at Riker, his shout escaping through clenched teeth. “Go!”
The one-eye released another stream of radiation into Timoshenko’s body. He bellowed.
Riker pivoted and ran. He ducked into the doorway where Troi still crouched. He grabbed her hand.
“Come on. Holodeck.”
They ran, passing the doors the teacher and her students had just entered. Troi didn’t look back. She felt the numinous emotions of death flowing down the