Star Trek_ Generations - J M. Dillard [36]
He ran to his friends side just as Data collapsed. Data! He knelt beside the android and put a hand on his shoulder. Data, are you all right?
Datas eyes flew open, then focused on Geordi, who helped the blinking android sit up.
I believe the emotional chip has overloaded my positronic relays, he said with mild but distinct surprise.
Wed better get you back to the ship. Geordi hit his comm badge. La Forge to Enterprise.
No response. Geordi frowned for a split second, then realizedthe dampening field, of course. But before he could react, a voice spoke softly:
Is there a problem, gentlemen?
He turned to see one of the observatory scientistsa thin, pale-haired civilian dressed in blackstanding in the doorway. The sight startled him for a fleeting instant; the observatory had been so silent, hed assumed no one had yet returned. Recovering, he said, Oh … Doctor. Yeah, as a matter of fact, there is. Theres a dampening field in here blocking our comm signal. He nodded at Data, still sitting on the floor. Will you give me a hand?
The scientist stepped toward them. Id be happy to. He said it kindly enough that Geordi took no alarmnot until the last second, when he saw the scientist glance swiftly at the partially dismantled probe, saw the distress cross the pale mans features, saw the phaser held by the mans side.
By then it was too late. Geordi tensed, thought to make a move for the phaser; it did not occur to him to shield himself from the mans other hand. The fist caught his cheek and jaw with a resounding dull thud and sent the VISOR hurtling. There was a millisecond burst of unbearably brilliant color, then darknessa darkness that deepened the instant his head struck the floor.
EIGHT
Picard sat at the desk in his quarters and stared down at the holo in the open album before him. In the background, classical music played softly; at his elbow, a cup of tea sat cooling. But the music remained unheard, the tea undrunk; he could focus on nothing save the picture before his eyes, a scene from happier times: the PicardsRené, Robert, Marieat their family estate. Robert had presented it to him a few years ago, when he was visiting the vineyard.
Picard gently laid fingertips against a corner of the holo, as if to capture the moment pictured there. There was his shyly grinning nephew, René, flanked by his mother and father. René would be some four years older nowtaller, with a deeper voice, but the same cap of golden brown hair falling in a straight fringe above the same bright, intelligent eyes full of promise. Picard remembered the moment of their first meeting, on the family estate. He had teased the boy, but only to hide his own amazement, for he had looked on René and seen himself. Hed seen, too, the gleam of admiration in the boys eyes, and realized self-consciously that René looked up to his uncle Jean-Luc as a hero.
Marie had later confessed that René wanted nothing better than to follow in his uncles footsteps, to become a starship captain. There she stood beside her son, golden-haired, graceful, and warm, the perfect counterpoint to her husband.
Robert stood, glowering and stiff as ever, chin tucked in, eyes narrowed and gleaming with faint disapproval at the world … and secret pride for his son. Dressed like a modern French peasant; always the traditionalist, Robert. A faint, fond smile played at the corners of Picards lips. Always the conservative, who predictably raised a great hue and cry when he discovered his sons interest in Starfleet. Always grudging, always stodgy. Always. Always …
Time is the fire in which we burn. It was as if Soran had known.
Picard squeezed his eyes shut at the words, trying to blot out the mental image they evoked: René, Robert, screaming in final agony as flames consumed them. What had it been like in those terrible, final seconds before death? What had it been like for Robert, to see his only son burned alive, to know that they would never escape? Or had he perished first, leaving René to suffer the final torment …?
Stop.
Stop.
He could not be sure it had happened