Reunion - Michael Jan Friedman [113]
Oh, come on, she remarked silently, slowing down as she approached the place. I’m not that late. And even if I were, he owes me one after the way he—
Abruptly, the doors to the holodeck opened and Riker stepped outside. He was wearing a fitted black suit, the kind worn on Earth for formal occasions. The first officer smiled and extended his hand to her.
She looked past him into the holodeck. What she saw
looked like a patch of lush green fir forest, with shards of deep azure sky showing between the needled branches. “Don’t just stand there,” Riker said. “Come on in.” She turned to him. “Are you, um, sure I’m dressed for it?”
He nodded reassuringly. “You couldn’t be dressed more perfectly.” Laying her hand in his, Cadwallader let him draw her into the holodeck. As the doors closed behind her, she got a better idea of her surroundings.
They were perched on a steep mountainside-or more specifically, on a wooded ledge jutting out from a steep mountainside. She could see other mountains all around them-a chain stretching in every visible direction to the horizon. And above them was a perfect dome of blue heaven, uninterrupted by even a single wisp of cloud. It looked like the kind of place that should have been quite cold, but the sun was hot and strong, and the trees protected them from the winds.
“You approve?” Riker asked. She nodded. “Where are we?” “Alaska,” he told her. “Not far from where I grew up.” He tapped his foot on the moss-covered ground. “I got a chance to see this place only once—comj before I left for the Academy.”
“Helipod?” she guessed.
“Nope. I climbed up. Took three whole days and a lot of bruised body parts, but I made it.”
Cadwallader looked down into the valley below. She whistled. “And it was just as beautiful as I thought it would be,” he went on. “Only one problem. There was nobody to share it with.”
She chuckled, amused. “I think I get the picture. But wasn’t this supposed to be a dinner date?”
Riker snapped his fingers. Suddenly, a gas-fired stove materialized in front of them. There were a couple of pans on the eking grill. The aroma that came to Cadwallader was spicy and faintly fishy. “Smells good,” she said. “What is it?”
“Trout remoulade,” he replied. “An old family rec-ipe.”
He snapped his fingers a second time, and a red-and-white checkered tablecloth materialized not far from the stove. It sported a basket of bread and a couple of glasses of wine. This time, Cadwallader actually laughed. “You think of everything, don’t you?”
Riker shrugged. “When I’m inspired.”
She turned to him. “And when it gets dark?” she asked. “What do we do to keep warm?”
“I don’t think that will be a problem,” he told her. “Really? And why is that?”
He was completely deadpan as he said it: “You’ll have to wait until after dinner to find that out.”
Today, there were only two of them at Ben Zoma’s bedside—Troi and Commander Asiiiund. Of course, the empath had a professional reason for remaining there. It was disconcerting to regain consciousness and find that so much had changed while one was unaware. Often, a ship’s counselor could smooth the transition. But not all Troi’s reasons for visiting were of the professional variety. She also liked Ben Zorna. Hell-it was difficult not to. And to be honest, she felt a little guilty for having had
to deceive him when he confronted her that time in the corridor. She was glad the time had come when she could drop the pretense and be honest with him.
Just as she was glad she didn’t have to lie to Idun Asmund anymore. Or to probe her emotions for evidence of murderous intent. “How long until we reach Daa’Very?” Ben Zoma asked softly. With the poison completely neutralized, he was considerably stronger than he had been the day before. He’d even gotten most of his color back. “Another four days,” Troi told him. “And that’s at warp nine.” Full warp capability was a luxury she’d never take for granted again. Not after crawling into and halfway through the Romulan