Reunion - Michael Jan Friedman [50]
When the call for Picard came up from sickbay, a chill played along Riker’s spine. And when Dr. Crusher subtly declined to discuss the matter in public, the first officer’s fears were pretty much confirmed.
There had been another attempt on Morgen’s life.
And as before, someone had gotten hurt. But who? Had the assassin been injured in the course of being apprehended? Or was there another victim-maybe even a fatality?
Of course, Deanna was as much in the dark as he was. She wasn’t a mindreader-not as a full-blooded Betazoid would have been. She could only gauge emotions-and neither the captain’s nor Crusher’s were telling her anything instructive.
On the other hand, someone had to look after the ship. So he and Deanna remained on-the bridge, striving to remain calm-trying not to exchange too many worried glances.
In the past, when they were in trouble, Riker had been able to take solace in the celestial beauty captured on the viewscreen. But now, with the starpaths stretched as taut as tightropes-reminders of the slipstream that was propelling them toward who-knew-what—even that op-tion was closed to him. He almost wished that Geordi’s engineering team hadn’t gotten the damned thing work-+ again. It seemed like years before they heard from Picard. And though his voice was well under control, the nature of his request only aggravated their misgivings: “Commander Riker. Counselor Troi. Avail yourselves of my ready room, please. I would like to have a word with you.”
Getting up from the captain’s chair, the first officer escorted the empath to the captain’s private office. Since Picard wasn’t actually inside, there was no need to wait until their presence was acknowledged. Instead, they walked right in. Riker looked up at the intercom grid. “We’re in your ready room, sir. What’s happening down there?”
“Nothing good, Will. There’s been another attack, as you probably guessed. A phaser attack. Cadwallader’s been hurt.”
Riker felt his throat constrict. “How badly, sir?” “She’ll recover completely, Dr. Crusher tells me-though it’ll be a few days before she’s ready to leave sickbay. And a couple more than that before her tissues have fully regenerated.” A pause. “She was hit with a phaser beam at setting-six intensity.”
The first officer gritted his teeth. At setting six, a phaser beam could punch a hole in duranium. Cadwallader was lucky she was even alive.
“Where and when was she attacked?” Deanna Troi asked. “Deck seventeen,” Picard answered. “She was with Morgen and Dr. Crusher, in one of the lounges, when we tried to outrun the slipstream. The killer took advantage of the power blackout to try again. Morgen and Dr. Crusher escaped without injury, but Cadwallader was not so fortunate.”
Riker bit back his anger. “Did they get a look at the assassin?” The captain’s sigh was audible. “They did not. However, Mr. Worf is engaged in an analysis of the scene now. Perhaps he will turn up some clues as to the killer’s identity. In fact, that is where I am headed once our discussion is over.”
“Is there anything we can do?” the first officer asked. “Not right now, Number One-you are needed on the bridge. I just thought you should know what happened.” “Thank you, sir,” Riker said. Picard didn’t reply. Apparently, he had already started out for deck seventeen. In the silence, the first officer turned to the ship’s counselor.
“Rotten news,” she commented:
He nodded. Right about then he should have said something clever and optimistic-“silver linings” kind of stuff. That would have been characteristic of him.
But somehow, he didn’t feel like it. All he could think about was Cadwallader, and how she might have died without ever knowing why he’d canceled their dinner. It was sort of maudlin-but hell, it was the way he felt.
He desperately wanted to see her. To sit down at her bedside and explain. But he couldn’t. The captain had left specific instructions that he was to remain on the bridge. . “Will?”
Abruptly, he remembered