Lost Era 05_ Deny thy Father - Jeff Mariotte [104]
“Funny?” Will echoed. “We are talking about Spock the Vulcan, right? Not some other Spock?”
“Well, you know, not the kind of funny that you see in Estresor Fil’s cartoons, but wry.”
“I guess I can see wry,” Will said. “I’m glad you had such a good time.”
She hugged him again, and then sat him down on her bed, with one hand clutching his arm and the other resting across his thigh. “I did, Will, I really did. I just kept wishing you were there. You’ve got to watch the speech, though, even if you don’t get to meet him yourself.”
“Well, maybe one of these days,” Will said. “Assuming I don’t get kicked out of the Academy.”
Felicia’s beautiful lips made an O shape. “Kicked out? What do you mean?”
“I’m surprised you haven’t heard,” he said. “Bad news usually travels fast around here.”
“I haven’t heard anything, Will. What’s going on?”
He told her about the unauthorized race, the theft of the shuttles, and Paul’s misadventure on Phoebe. He didn’t leave out any details, and when he was finished she had a look of total shock on her face.
“Will, you stupid dumb idiot! I am so glad you’re okay. But how lame can you possibly be?”
“How many degrees of lameness are there?” he replied. “Because I guess I’m pretty far down the list.”
“And you don’t know yet what your punishment is going to be?”
“I’m supposed to report to the superintendent in…” he looked at his chron. “Twenty-two minutes. With Paul. I guess we’ll both find out then.”
“Can I go with you?” she asked, stroking his arm solicitously.
“Better not,” he suggested. “Guilt by association, you know. Save your own career.”
“I’ll wait outside,” she said. “But I want to know what happens as soon as you get out.”
“Deal,” Will agreed. “If I get thrown out you can make me dinner to console me. If I don’t, you can make me dinner to celebrate.”
“There are… various ways we could celebrate,” she said with a sidelong glance.
“If you’re suggesting what I hope you are,” Will said, “I don’t want to think about it until after I’m out of Superintendent Vyrek’s office. I swear that Vulcan can read minds. Even without a mind-meld.”
“Then I’m not going to tell you what I’m suggesting,” Felicia declared. “Until after.”
Twenty-seven minutes later, Will and Paul were standing at attention in the superintendent’s office as she paced in a circle around them, hands clasped behind her back. Captain Pendel, their flight instructor, and Admiral Paris were also in the room, but both men stood back and let the superintendent have the floor. “You are lucky that I am a Vulcan, gentlemen, and not a human. Because a human, at a time like this, would have a very difficult time controlling her anger. You are both, for the most part, excellent cadets, with admirable records. But you are both headstrong, impulsive, and apparently lacking in any kind of what you call common sense and what I call reason. You stole-stole- vehicles from the Academy’s Flight Training Base. One of those vehicles was in for repairs, but you somehow were not even aware of it. You, Mr. Rice, managed to crash that vehicle into one of Saturn’s moons without killing yourself. You, Mr. Riker, disobeyed a direct order and flew into an ion storm in order to rescue the foolhardy Mr. Rice. The fact that you are both standing here is an affront to the laws of probability, not to mention the regulations of Starfleet. Does that about sum it up?”
“It seems to, sir,” Will said, suitably chastened by her monologue.
“Yes, sir,” Paul agreed.
“You are both in your last year,” Superintendent Vyrek continued. “I should put you back a year. But Starfleet can use your skills sooner rather than later. And I would have to put up with you both for another year, and that aggravation, I assure you, is more than I can bear. Therefore, I will not punish myself and my instructors in such a fashion. Instead, I will put a strongly worded reprimand in each of your permanent files. And I will advise you not to be brought back to this office again, for any reason, during your final months at this Academy. If you are, I will