Lost Era 05_ Deny thy Father - Jeff Mariotte [19]
He stopped his arm at the peak of his motion, though, when a different idea dawned on him. Instead of throwing the thing he sat down in the alley, back against one of the high walls, and spent a few minutes reprogramming it. When he was finished, instead of accurately signaling its position, it would send signals to satellites chosen at random, in orbit all around the world. Anyone who tried to track it would find themselves hopelessly confused. Satisfied then that his padd would no longer give away his location, he tucked it into a pocket and hurried away from the alley.
As he walked quickly through the city’s nighttime streets, Kyle hoped that whoever was looking for him developed a massive migraine from trying to use his own padd against him. Once he had figured out who was after him, and why, he hoped to give them a much worse headache.
At the very least.
Chapter 5
A sharp knock at Will’s door woke him from a sound sleep. He glanced at the chron near his bed. Four-forty in the morning. Who…?
“Yes?” he called, hoping his animosity was clear in his voice.
“Will Riker?”
“That’s right.” He spoke these words defiantly. Anyone who would be rude enough to come around at this hour-especially today, of all days, when he was about to embark on his final project for Admiral Paris’s survival class-was going to be told off, Riker style. “Who’s there?”
“Starfleet security, cadet. Please open the door.”
“Come in,” Riker called, the vocal command unlocking the door. Two gold-shirted officers pulled down the old-fashioned handle to open the door and enter. One of them looked at Will, his hand resting on the butt of his phaser pistol, while the other glanced about the room. “Looking for something?” Will asked, sitting up on the edge of his bed.
“We’re looking for your father, Cadet. Mr. Kyle Riker. Have you seen him recently?”
Will couldn’t restrain the laugh. “That depends. What’s recent to you?” he asked. “Five years?”
The security officer looked surprised. “He’s your father. He works here at Starfleet Headquarters.”
“And your point is…?”
The second security officer, the one giving Will’s small quarters the once over, seemed satisfied by his search. “He’s not here.”
“I told you that,” Will said. “He’s never been here.”
“Have you heard from him? Tonight?”
Will shook his head vigorously. “You don’t seem to get the point,” he said. “We don’t talk. At all.”
“So you’d have no idea where he is right now?”
Will glanced at the chron, as if for emphasis. “Since he’s not crazy, as far as I know, I would guess he’s home in bed. Wherever that is.”
“He’s not there,” the security man said.
“Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that.”
“Do you know where he might go? Any favorite places, anyone he’d turn to in an emergency?”
These guys just don’t have a clue, Will thought. And they’re supposed to be providing security? “I have no idea,” he said. “Listen to me-Kyle Riker and I haven’t seen or spoken to each other in five years. I don’t know who his friends are, I don’t know where he spends his time. I just don’t know. The last time I saw him was in Alaska, if that helps.”
The second security officer touched the first one on the arm. “Come on, he’s got nothing.”
The first one paused, as if unwilling to admit defeat, but then he gave a little shrug and turned away. “If you hear from him, contact security immediately,” he called over his shoulder as they left the room.
Yeah, Will thought. Because that’s likely to happen.
He looked at his bunk again, and he looked at the time. Almost o-five hundred. They were to report to the Academy’s transporter room by six-thirty. Other squadrons were being transported into the city at different times during the morning. It was foolish to think he’d get back to sleep now, and even