Reunion - Michael Jan Friedman [70]
Picard’s nostrils flared. “I wish I could, Idun. I truly do. But both Worf and Dr. Crusher agree-only a Klingon ceremonial knife could have inflicted wounds such as Ben Zoma sustained. You carried such weapons onto the Enterprise. And outside of Worf, you are the only one here practiced in their use.” A pause. “What’s more, you have no alibi—other than the computer
record of yourhaving been in your quarters at the time. But the computer only records the presence of your communicator,” He scowled-a sincere expression of his pain and regret. “I have no choice but to place you under arrest.”
She shook her head. “You’re making a mistake, Captain. If you’ll tell me what’s going on, I can-was “You’ll be notified of the charges in detail,” said Picard, “once you’re in the brig.” He looked to Riker. “See to it, Number One. And don’t forget to check her for dispoisons.”
The first officer nodded. “Aye, sir.” Worf had told him how Klingons imprisoned by their enemies often chose suicide as an honorable alternative to captivity.
“Thank you,” Picard said.
It might not have been plain to anyone else, but Riker knew how this was tearing the captain up inside. Asmund had been part of his crew-just as he and Troi and Worf were now. No, more than his crew-his family.
It wasn’t easy to confront the fact that a member of one’s family was a murderer. Not under any circumstances. As Picard turned to leave, Asmund appealed to him. “Captain-this is insaneA would never do anything to hurt Ben Zoma or anyone else. If anyone knows that, it’s you.”
Picard headed for the doorway, appearing not to hear her. And after he was gone, Worf filled the opening, glancing meaningfully at Riker. The first officer nodded.
He turned to Asmund. She stared back at him, hard. As if she were fighting to keep her grip on emotions so powerful they might rip her apart.
Momentarily, Riker’s heart went out to her. It was a
terrible thing to see one who had been Klingon-bred fighting to maintain her dignity.
Then he remembered what had been done to Ben Zoma. And to Cadwallader. And his sympathy for the woman melted away. “If you please,” he told her, indicating the exit. With a visible effort, Asmund collected herself. Then, without another word, she gave herself up to the security officers waiting outside in the corridor.
“Let me get this straight,” the engineering chief said. “You think we can skim the Enterprise out of the slipstream?” “In a word,” Simenon answered, “yes.”
They were gathered again around the master situations monitor in engineering-Geordi, the Gnalish, Data, and Wesley. And the ensign was finding it increasingly difficult to keep quiet. It was Simenon’s theory, Simenon’s plan. So it only made sense for Simenon to explain it. But Wes was so sure it was going to work that he could feel himself bubbling inside with excitement. “You see,” said the professor, “I was teaching Wesley how to skim stones. You know—flat rocks?”
Data looked puzzled. “I am not familiar with the activity.” “That’s all right,” said Wesley. “You don’t really have to be.” The android took the ensign’s word for it. “Very well,” he said. “Please proceed, Professor.”
“Anyway,” Simenon went on, “in all my years on Gnala and elsewhere, I’ve skimmed hundreds—maybe even thousands-of stones. But I never gave much of a thought to the principles of physics that govern it. After
all, they are so basic, so simple, as to be taken for granted. The stone’s surface and the water’s surface collide; the resulting exchange of energy between the two objects impels the stone upward as well as forward. In short, it skips. Its momentum has been diminished some, thanks to things like friction and gravity and the energy absorbed by the water in the collision-but not by much, as long as two conditions are satisfied: the angle of collision must be fairly oblique and the stone must be relatively flat.” As the Gnalish paused for effect, Geordi leaned forward over the monitor to look at him. “Professor, this is all very enlightening. But what’s it got to do with-was
Sirnenon stopped him with a raising