Gulliver's Fugitives - Keith Sharee [67]
Riker searched for an idea, some way to trick Ferris into becoming his own victim.
Picard seemed to want to cut the silence.
“What is going to happen to you, Will, is a kind of rebirth. You are insane right now; you have a serious and progressive mental illness that compels you to do criminal acts. I am not able to remember much from the time when I was mentally ill, but I’m sure it was terribly unpleasant, as it must be for you.
“What I want you to understand is, the transition is not painful, or difficult. These people will do it humanely. And the relief when it’s over!—when you see the world rationally, with no guessing, nothing unknown, or strange, or frightening. No mysteries, no stories to lie to you and distract you from the facts. The only enemies we really have, Will, are external—those people who want to perpetuate all the false -oods, all the heresies against truth and the true God.”
The woman had finished shaving Riker’s head. She smeared conductor on the electrodes, pushed the cap down onto his head, plugged the jacks into their wall-sockets, then powered up all the components on the cart.
She ripped a thick strip of white cloth tape from her roll, and leaned over to apply it over Riker’s mouth. Riker moved away from it. In a futile gesture of defiance, he pulled with all his strength against his restraining straps.
Picard seemed to want to say something else to Riker. He frowned, searching for words.
“Will, I promise your fears are groundless.”
The technician tried to put the tape on Riker’s mouth but he spat it off violently.
“You aren’t Jean-Luc Picard,” he said. Then he looked at Ferris and played his last card.
“I’m a Federation Marine, Ferris,” Riker lied. “I’ve been in combat worse than you’ve ever dreamed of. I’ve had my legs blown off and rebuilt and I’ve gone for weeks without food and water and still had the strength to kill.” Riker spoke the lies with all the false fervor he could muster.
Then Riker tried the bait. “You—you’re not a fighting man. You’re a housecat. You’ve never had a real fight in your life. I can take you or any of your soldiers one-on-one no problem. Right now. We’ll use the same weapons, you choose them.”
Ferris nodded slowly.
“I’d like to take you up on it. Maybe you’re a good soldier, maybe not, but one thing this soldier knows is how to finish his mission.”
Ferris turned to the technician.
“That’s enough time wasted. Let’s go.”
Ferris motioned for Picard to stand back. Picard seemed concerned yet hopeful, like a man about to witness an organ transplant.
There was a knock at the door.
“Go ahead,” Ferris told the technician. “Blank him. We’ll take care of the door.”
The technician flicked a switch. Her equipment made a buzzing sound. Riker’s eyes were clenched shut.
The knocking at the door continued. One of the CS men opened it. An object flew in, hit the wall, and landed on the floor. It was a small white canister emblazoned with the CS logo.
“Damn it!” shouted Ferris. He dove for the canister, but by the time he’d touched it, the grenade had gone off with an insipid peeping sound.
Ferris’ movements became slow. His expression turned imbecilic. He picked up the canister and stared at it uncomprehendingly. He turned it over in his hands, then shook it like a rattle.
The other CS men, the technician, and Picard all looked at each other torpidly.
“I was …” said the technician vaguely.
One of the CS men covered his mouth and started to giggle.
Amoret came into the room cautiously. She saw that the grenade had taken full effect. She saw the cart full of equipment, heard it buzzing. She slapped all the switches to their off positions and the buzzing stopped.
She pulled the cap off Riker and struggled with his restraining straps. Sirens started outside. Her sweaty hands slipped on the smooth leather and the chrome buckles.
She jerked Riker to a sitting position. His eyes roved like twin hobos. It was solely the effect of the thought