Star Trek_ Generations - J M. Dillard [72]
Yes. Yes, it is … He forced himself to ignore the dazzling surroundings and focused his mind on those who had died to bring him here: the crew of the Enterprise, and the millions on Veridian IV.
Kirk pointed cheerfully to a log on a nearby woodpile against the house. Do you mind?
Picard blinked, momentarily confused. Oh … He went over, retrieved the log and set it on the block at Kirks feet.
Captain … He paused, searching for the most potent, direct words to explain himself and his need for Kirks help, to dissolve the nexuss seductive hold on the famous captain. Do you realize what
Wait a second! Suddenly galvanized, Kirk glanced at a point beyond Picards shoulder. I think somethings burning!
He dropped the axe and began to run.
Picard pivoted. Smoke was billowing out one of the houses open windows. Kirk rushed inside, leaving the back door open behind him; Picard followed, then paused in the open doorway, feeling suddenly awkward about barging into a strange houseeven if that house happened to be the construct of James Kirks imagination.
The door opened onto a kitchen of the nineteenth-century American West, Picard judged, with a few twenty-third-century touches thrown in for good measure. Copper pans hung above an antique cast-iron stove, upon which rested a dented, well-worn teakettle; nearby stood an outdated computer console, upon which rested a padd and a communicator of the sort Picard had only seen in the Starfleet museum.
The source of the smoke was a large cast-iron frying pan on the stove. Kirk reached for it, swore and yanked his fingers away, then found a nearby dishtowel. He swathed his hand in it, successfully grabbed the pans handle and, waving the smoke away from his face, dumped the pan and its contents into the old-fashioned sink.
Looks like someone was cooking eggs, Kirk mused to himself, then glanced up and caught sight of Picard in the doorway. He smiled. Come on in. Its all right. He gestured at their surroundings. This is my houseor at least, it used to be. I sold it years ago.
Picard entered, and decided to broach the matter directly. Im Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Starship Enterprise.
As he spoke, a timepiece chimed the hour, making him think at once of Soran. Distracted, Kirk moved over to a nearby shelf and gazed in surprise at the sounds source, an antique mantel clock with a gleaming gold face.
This clock … Kirk whispered, entranced, and ran his fingers admiringly over its polished dark cherry surface. I gave this clock to Bones … A beatific smile spread over his face as he turned toward Picard. He said it was the best present anyone ever gave himwith the exception of his grandchildren.
Captain, Picard said sharply, hoping to pull Kirk from his reverie. Im from what you would consider the future. The twenty-fourth century …
Kirk gave a vacant nod to indicate he had heard, but the lure of his surroundings held his attention fast. He started at a sudden sharp bark, then broke into a wide grin as a great dane bounded through the open back door and ran toward him, tail wagging.
Jake! Kirk crouched down and embraced the animal, who gave his masters cheek a thorough licking, then sat and grinned, tongue lolling. Jake, you miserable old mutt … how can you be here? He looked over his shoulder at Picard as he scratched the dogs head. Hes been dead seven years.
Frustrated, Picard opened his mouth to speak, but another voicea womans, firm but playful, filtered down from somewhere upstairs.
Come on, Jim, Im starving. How long are you going to be rattling around in that kitchen?
Kirk rose and turned in the direction of the sound, his lips parted in amazement. Thats Antonia, he murmured to himself. He glanced over at the stove and the scorched pan in the sink, frowning faintly as inspiration came to him. Wait a minute …
He moved over to a drawer and pulled it open as he spoke to Picard. The