Oblivion - Michael Jan Friedman [56]
But what could he do about it? Set up a diversion so the captain could escape?
Too risky, the glinn decided. And besides, even if Picard did elude security, there was no guarantee that Tain would find him again before he located Demmix.
The Cardassian’s teeth ground together. No diversion, then. No intervention at all.
As much as it galled him, he had no choice but to accept the situation—and hope he would eventually find a way to turn it to his advantage.
Guinan was still reeling from her experience in the footwear emporium, or she would have noticed it moments earlier.
Crowds had a certain sound to them—raucous, subdued, or any of a hundred flavors in between. And not every part of a crowd sounded like every other.
When she and Picard walked into the shop, the crowd of merchants on both sides of the thoroughfare had sounded exactly as she would have expected—a mix of purposefulness and pleasure, with accents of happiness or remorse over deals that had either been cut or abandoned.
But it sounded different now. There were dead spots in the crowd, places where people were simply watching and not speaking. And no sooner had Guinan realized this than the dead spots began to migrate.
Not randomly, either. They were converging on a single point. And the point they were converging on was Guinan herself.
Security officers, she told herself, feeling ice water trickle down her spine. She and her companion had been discovered somehow, despite their disguises.
“Picard,” she breathed.
He looked at her. “Yes?”
“Don’t look now, but we’re surrounded.”
His brow lowered. “By whom?”
“Security,” she said. Then she added, “I think,” because she couldn’t be completely sure, and because her talents weren’t as sharp as they used to be.
“Just keep walking,” Picard told her.
Guinan could almost hear him add: I’ll think of something.
And despite the severity of their circumstances, despite the odds stacked against them, Guinan had a feeling that Picard would think of something.
After all, he was the man who had saved her life more than four hundred years ago. If he could get the better of those time-traveling snakes in San Francisco, he could get them out of this mess as well.
Guinan looked to him, wondering what her companion was going to do next—wondering what kind of rabbit he was going to pull out of his hat.
But Picard didn’t produce any rabbits. All he did, suddenly and without warning, was take off like one—cutting a path among the assembled merchants without so much as a backward look.
Guinan didn’t understand. It looked to her as if her friend was abandoning her.
No, she thought. That can’t be it. It was just a ruse, designed to fool the security officers.
But she was too smart to believe in it. She knew Picard. She knew he wouldn’t let her down.
Then a couple of figures closed in on her, phasers in their fists. Even if they weren’t in uniform, it was obvious that they were security officers.
“Don’t move!” one of them barked.
Okay, Guinan thought, it’s time, Picard. Show these guys what you’ve got.
But her companion wasn’t stopping. As she watched, he became more and more a part of the crowd. By the time the ripples of what was happening to her began to spread through the shopping area, Picard was gone altogether.
Guinan swallowed back her shock and disappointment. It hadn’t been a ruse after all. Picard had really run away, leaving her there to face the music by herself.
A couple of other armed figures joined the first two, blocking Guinan’s escape on all sides. “Hands up!” one of them snapped at her. “Stay where you are!”
It wasn’t necessary. She wasn’t going anywhere.
Chapter Fourteen
PICARD LOOKED BACK OVER his shoulder to see if anyone was pushing through the crowd to come after him.
No one was—at least, as far as he could tell. The authorities seemed to be focusing all their attention on Guinan, the proverbial bird in the hand.
The captain frowned as he headed for the hatch that would let him out of the shopping enclosure. Obviously, Steej had caught