Lost Era 05_ Deny thy Father - Jeff Mariotte [90]
“Is there some reason that you can’t be?”
“I’m part of that Saturn exercise. We leave tomorrow. I’ll be flying maneuvers the whole time Spock is here.”
Trinidad’s face brightened. “You got picked for that run? Congratulations, Will. That’ll be such a blast.”
“You really love to fly, don’t you?” Will asked him.
“More than anything. I don’t ever want to make captain, that’s for sure. They hardly get to have any of the fun.”
“It’s too bad,” Will said, trying to sound sincere when things were playing right into his hands. “I want to be here, and you want to be there. And yet, our positions are reversed.”
They sat in silence for a few moments while Trinidad processed the idea that Will had planted. “But do they have to be?” he asked.
Will casually took a sip of his ale and arched an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“What if there was a way to trade places? If I could go to Saturn and fly, and you could stay here and see Spock.”
“I don’t know if they’ll just swap out our orders like that, especially this late,” Will hedged.
“Maybe they don’t need to. We don’t look a lot alike, Will, but we’re about the same build. And no one on Saturn knows you, right?”
“Not that I know of,” Will replied.
“So if I borrowed your identity for a while…”
“The people going to Saturn to fly with me know me,” Will pointed out. He hadn’t been able to get over this hurdle, though he hoped maybe Trinidad could come up with something.
“But they’re friends of yours, right?” Trinidad offered. He seemed even more excited by the prospect than Will was. “So maybe they could be encouraged to go along with the gag.”
“It’s possible, I guess,” Will relented.
Trinidad raised his glass and held it out toward Will’s. “Come on,” he said. “A toast. To getting what we want.”
Will lifted his glass and clinked it against Trinidad’s, watching the amber liquid catch the light as it sloshed around. “To getting what we want.” He liked the sound of those words.
He wondered what it actually felt like.
After leaving Trinidad at the Ready Room-fortified, he knew, by his success at persuading his friend to take a dangerous chance as well as by several glasses of strong Aldorian ale, Will decided that he wasn’t ready to stop getting what he wanted. His trip back to campus was kind of a blur, but he eventually found himself standing outside Felicia Mendoza’s door. He raised a hand to rap against it, but the door suddenly moved a little farther away than it had been. Looking down, he realized that the whole floor was moving-turning in a slow circle and pulsing up and down at the same time. He thought at first that it was an earthquake, but realized a moment later that it was far more likely the full effects of the ale kicking in. His stomach was making similar motions.
He had come this far, though, so he steadied himself and knocked at the door. It was only after he had done so that he considered the possibility that Estresor Fil might be here, and the embarrassment that might ensue.
But Felicia was alone when she came to the door, in blue cotton pajamas. “That’s not regulation uniform,” Will observed.
“Nor do regulations require me to be in uniform at oh-two-hundred,” Felicia shot back. “Will Riker, are you drunk?”
“There is a very distinct possibility that I am, yes.”
“Get out of here.”
“But, Felicia…”
“Will, I would be perfectly happy to have you visit my room at virtually any other time. Although waking hours are, of course, preferred. But not when you’re too drunk to think straight. Much less stand up straight.”
What she was saying probably made sense. But Will couldn’t really concentrate on it because the floor was moving faster now, dipping and rising like a thrill ride, and she swam in and out of focus, and his stomach…. “Felicia, I…” he got