Q & A - Keith R. A. DeCandido [72]
“What are you saying?”
“This (This) [This] {This universe} [universe] (universe) universe {must} must [must] (must die.) die. {die.} [die.]”
“That’s it?” Picard found his voice once again.
“Yes. (Yes.) [Yes.] {Yes.} This universe (This universe) [This universe] {This universe will die.} [must die.] (bores us.) is dull.”
Jean-Luc Picard couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t enough that Q had apparently had a purpose to all his tormenting of the Enterprise crew, and Picard in particular. It wasn’t enough that the fate of the universe was tied up in some ridiculous game. But all Picard could do was float here while this group of disembodied beings condemned all life as he knew it to cease to be.
He found himself thinking about everything Q ever did, much of which was making sense in light of the past two days. Not all of it. Allowing Data to laugh didn’t really have much to do with what was happening—it had been a parting gift from Q, a rare magnanimous gesture.
Except even his selfish gestures appear now to have meaning. Q chose to send Picard back to when he got his artificial heart. That had appeared to be an excuse to torment Picard. However, it also seemed to be another magnanimous gesture—it allowed Picard to be an alternate version of himself.
It was absurd.
Completely, totally, in all ways absurd.
The first sound that came out of Picard’s mouth was a short, “Heh.” He felt his lips curl back into a smile.
First, he just chuckled, shaking his head.
That grew into a laugh.
Which grew into a guffaw.
Before he knew it, Picard was having trouble breathing, he was laughing so hard. Life and death all seemed to be a matter of whimsy in any case, so why not indulge in the most whimsical thing he could manage? Certainly this whole exercise was one big joke, so why not go along with it?
He continued to laugh and laugh until he could no longer breathe.
“Much [Much] (Much) {Much} [better.] better. {better.} (better.)”
Picard was still laughing when he found himself prone, lying on rock.
The sensation of being somewhere was enough of a shock—because it was a contrast to the nothingness he’d just come from. Looking around, Picard saw that he was on the angled floor of the cavern. There was no sign of Kadohata, Leybenzon, Stolovitzky, or de Lange, but Picard did hear voices up ahead. He recalled that La Forge and Kadohata’s X-ray and magnetic scans revealed that the cavern opened up into a large space—one that was apparently full of people, based on the noise.
The captain tapped his combadge. “Picard to Enterprise.” True, he’d seen his ship destroyed—along with all the others from the various universes that had come through the fissure—but life and death appeared to be malleable concepts today.
No response. Of course, if they’re still proximate to Gorsach V, they’d be out of the range of the combadge.
Looking ahead down the incline, Picard thought, We went to a great deal of trouble to find out what’s in here.
He stood up and walked forward.
20
U. S. S. Titan
Gum Nebula
CAPTAIN WILL RIKER AND COUNSELOR DEANNA Troi stood at the window of their shared quarters. The stars stopped streaking and normalized to points of light. Titan had dropped out of warp and arrived at the Vela 3AG system.
Recalling the premission briefing, Titan was supposed to come into the system at an angle that would provide Will with a view of the star and its fourth planet and its ten moons from his cabin port—it was the reason he’d awakened so early, to catch the vista he was promised.
The captain was rather pleased to see that view was even more spectacular than promised.
From behind him, Troi said, “It’s beautiful.”
Grinning, Riker said, “And today, we get to see what makes it tick.”
He turned around and kissed his wife. This is the way to start a day—a new star system to explore, and my imzadi to share it with.
Bravo Station
Sector 221, Alpha Quadrant
Admiral Elizabeth Paula Shelby’s persual of Starfleet records was interrupted by a comm from Bravo Station’s operations