Requiem - Michael Jan Friedman [69]
After all, this was where he wanted to be, where he needed to be, and where he would be—for another thirty-three hours or so, until his orders forced him to call off the search. At this point, horrible as that prospect might be, the first officer could envision no other conclusion.
Sure, he still held out a slim hope that somehow, some way, they would find what they were looking for. But his Alaskan upbringing had forcibly made a realist out of Riker, and he knew, in his heart of hearts, that they were just playing out the string.
“Commander?”
The first officer turned at the sound of Worf’s voice. He couldn’t help but search the Klingon’s face for a sign of good news. But Worf’s expression told him that it was just more of the same.
“The scan is negative,” he concluded softly, knowing the Klingon would be as disappointed as he was.
Worf nodded. “That is correct.”
Riker returned his attention to the viewscreen, where the class-M planet with its three presentient species still hung in the void. There were seventeen other worlds in this star system, but none of them were even remotely equipped to support human life.
The first officer sighed. “Proceed to the next system,” he said.
Worf ran a quick calculation. “That would be Beta Artemnoron. Estimated time of arrival twelve hours and thirty-six minutes.”
Riker felt his heart sink inside him. That was more than a third of the time they had left. If they failed to locate the captain there as well, they would have no choice but to recover Geordi’s away team and make a beeline for Gorn. And even then, they’d be cutting it close.
“Beta Artemnoron,” he told his helmsman. “Best speed.”
“Aye, sir,” came the reply, as Ensign Rager—whose shift had just begun—brought the Enterprise about. A moment later, they were making their way out of the system at full impulse, waiting for clearance to go to warp.
As Riker watched, he found himself wondering what would have happened if he had taken Ro up on her offer a little sooner. Say, a day earlier. Or two. That might have made the difference. But he had let his pigheadedness get in the way of his finding the captain, and he would have to live with that the rest of his life.
Speaking of Ro … she deserved some thanks for her efforts, both as acting exec and as proponent of the Bon Amar plan. The ensign had done all he had expected of her and a good deal more. As soon as she reported to the bridge, he would ask her into the captain’s ready room and let her know what all her help had meant to him.
For now, however, he had a more pressing responsibility. He had to contact the moderate faction on Gorn and let them know that Jean-Luc Picard would not be available for the negotiations. Riker would take the captain’s place at the …
Riker stopped himself. No one could take Captain Picard’s place—not in this or anything else. He would merely fill in as best he could.
Of course, he had never even met a Gorn, much less matched wits with one—except in the holodeck recreation of Captain Kirk’s historical first encounter. And he had a feeling that that would be slim preparation for what was ahead.
In short, the outlook wasn’t very bright.
Chapter Eight
PICARD LOOKED BACK over his shoulder. The distant buildings full of colonists were hidden behind a bone-white shoulder of rock. That was good. After all, if he couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see him either.
Of course, that situation wouldn’t prevail for long. Though the captain hadn’t seen any signs of pursuit earlier, as he made his way posthaste across the flats between the outpost and the lowlying mountains, that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be any. Travers was not the sort of man to just let him go, after what he had done.
Negotiating the blunt ridges