Reunion - Michael Jan Friedman [40]
Not that he believed Cadwallader was the assassin. Far from it. But if Riker let out some detail of the investigation, and she unknowingly passed it on to the guilty party … “Will,” she said, “there are lots of officers who have … relationships with one another. It’s not as if we’re even serving on the same ship.” She looked at him in a way that made his heart sink. “Or is there some other reason? Perhaps the bit of difference in our ages?”
He steeled himself, shook his head. “No other reason. I like you, Tricia. I like you a lot. But I just don’t feel comfortable with … with what’s happening between us.”
She smiled ruefully. “That’s too bad,” she told him. “I thought– well, never mind what I thought.” There was just the slightest trace of huskiness in her voice. “I guess
I’ll see you around, then, eh? Maybe in the gym or something.” Riker nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised.” And before he could falter—before he could change his mind about the line he’d drawn between his feelings and his duty-he turned and left the suite. Even after he was outside in the corridor, the doors to Cadwallader’s quarters closed behind him, he could see her expression. The disbelief. The disappointment. The embarrassment. He felt like something one would scrape from the bottom of one’s boots.
It was strange. The more time passed without any other incidents, the more it seemed that the sabotage of the holodeck had never taken place.
As Picard looked around the bridge, everything seemed so placid-so orderly. It was difficult to contem-plate the possibility of violence in such a setting. Even the viewscreen, with its familiar image of stars stretched into taut lines of light, conspired to create an illusion of stability.
Of course, Picard knew that this was a pitfall he would have to avoid. As much as he wanted to believe otherwise, he knew that someone had attempted to kill Morgen-and perhaps Lieutenant Worf as well.
He could feel the Klingon’s presence at the Tactical station-like an anchor in a sea of uncertainty. They hadn’t pursued the possibility that Worf might have been the primary target and not Morgen. But then, given the presence of the Stargazer survivors, and the fact that the Daa’Vit’s life had been threatened once before …
Playing devil’s advocate for a moment, Picard asked himself if any of his former officers might have a reason
for wanting Worf dead. As far as he knew, none of them had ever met him before they’d boarded the Enterprise. And the only one who had a reason to hate Klingons was Morgen-the very individual who had shared the security chief’s peril in the holodeck. It seemed far more likely that the Daa’Vit was the intended victim. But just to be sure, the captain resolved to discuss the alternative with Commander Riker. And with Worf himself, naturally, at aThe captain’s thoughts came to an abrupt halt as he felt the ship surge violently beneath him. On the viewscreen there was an accompanying shift— as the dashes of starlight shortened up considerably.
“Mr. Data,” he said, “I gave no order to accelerate.” The android had stationed himself at the Conn station for the day to give Solis more practice at Ops. His fingers were fluttering over the controls at a quicker than usual pace.
“Nor did I initiate any change in speed,” said Data. He swiveled in his seat to face Picard. “Nonetheless, sir, we have accelerated. We are proceeding at warp nine point nine five.”
The captain shook his head, incredulous. The Enterprise’s engines weren’t supposed to be capable of propelling it that fast-at least, not for more than a few seconds.
“Are you certain?” he asked Data.
The android turned back to his console and checked.