Section 31_ Rogue - Andy Mangels [135]
But for all of his frustrations and problems, Picard knew that his own agonies did not cut as deeply as those carried by Keru.
The shuttle flight had been awkward and uncomfortable, and though both men tried to discuss topics unrelated to the grim reality of Hawk’s death, the lapses into silence came often. It was during one of those interludes when Keru spoke, his eyes on the red-and-ocher world before them on the viewscreen.
“I don’t blame you, Captain.” He hesitated, and added more softly, “Well, I’m trying not to.”
“I can see where you might, Ranul,” Picard said quietly. “I was responsible for the specific mission that cost Sean his life.”
“He volunteered, though. It was his own choice. His last great adventure.” Keru shifted in his seat, as if uncomfortable. “I’m not sure I want to face Commander Worf any time soon, however.”
Picard had expected this. “You know that Worf only did what he had to do. If there had been any way-“
“But there was a way,” Keru said, interrupting. “You’re proof of that. They were able to recover you after you were assimilated. And that was after quite some time. Hawk had just been… infected. He could have… he might have been saved.”
Picard kept quiet. Any response he could give would only deepen the pain. He concentrated instead on the consoles, his fingers tapping in coordinates as Mars loomed larger in front of them.
“I’ve thought a lot about it the last few days… about leaving the Enterprise,” Keru said. “On the one hand, I think it holds too many bad memories. I wonder how I’d respond to you. How I’d feel if Worf came back aboard. How I’ll feel when I’m walking those corridors, entering the mess hall or holodecks, even our quarters. All those things will remind me of him. Of losing him.”
“I’m sure that if Deanna were here, she’d probably counsel you that the pain will grow less every day,” Picard said.
“Yeah, she said something similar to that, along with quite a bit of other… crap.” Keru turned to look at Picard, his eyes wet with tears. “You know, when you’ve lost the person you love most in life, the pain doesn’t ever feel like it’s going to go away. It’s not going to be okay. You’re never going to hold them in your arms again, never going to laugh at their stupid jokes, never going to quarrel over something trivial… they’re never… just never there again.”
Picard felt his own eyes well up with tears as he regarded his officer, and found himself again unable to respond.
Keru sniffed, and wiped his eyes. “I know you’ve lost family, and officers who’ve served under you. We’ve all lost people in our lives. Death is inevitable. We’re supposed to realize that, we’re supposed to celebrate the lives of those we’ve lost, we’re supposed to take comfort in some place beyond death-Heaven, Sto-Vo-Kor, Valhalla, whatever. But there’s no comfort for those still alive other than their own continued existence. And I’d give up years of my life to have more time with Sean.
“I always dreamed I would find someone I could love as much as Sean. I’ve forgotten so many of my dreams in life, but he… he was real. And he was mine. And I was his.”
Keru turned away from Picard, wiping at his cheek again. Picard closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again and began procedures for entry into the Martian atmosphere.
Leaving the shuttle docked beside one of the peripheral pressure domes, Picard shouldered a small duffel bag, and he and Keru entered Bradbury City through a tube-shaped extrusion of the municipal forcefield. Mindful of their awkwardness in the low Martian gravity, the two men made their way through a series of airlocks and settlement streets before entering an area of the city that seemed older and more antiquated than anything else they had seen here thus far. Picard noticed several people using archaic technology, and the modern, redundant interplexed forcefields-through which the salmon-tinged sky could be seen-gave way to older atmospheric domes composed of semi-opaque