Star Trek_ Generations - J M. Dillard [74]
We have to go back to a planet called Veridian Three, he continued, and stop a man from destroying a star. There are millions of lives at stake.
The nonchalance in Kirks expression chilled him. The captain shrugged and said lightly, You said history considers me dead. Who am I to argue with history?
Picard let the anger through in his voice. Youre a Starfleet officer, and you have a duty to
Kirk stopped abruptly at the foot of the staircase and faced the other captain, his voice and expression hard. I dont need to be lectured by you. I was out saving the galaxy when your grandfather was still in diapers. And frankly, I think the galaxy owes me one. He paused, struggling to master his indignation, lest it overwhelm the euphoria of the experience. I was like you once, he said, and for the first time, he seemed to seereally seePicard. So worried about duty and obligations that I couldnt see anything past this uniform. And, in the end, what did it get me? An empty house. A shadow flickered over his features; he glanced toward the top of the stairs. Not this time.
He brushed past his companion. Im going to walk up these stairs, march into that bedroom, and tell Antonia that I want to marry her. This time, things are going to be different.
And he strode up the stairs and disappeared behind a bedroom door, leaving the younger captain to look after him.
Picard took in a determined breath and followed, hesitating only an instant at the closed bedroom door before grasping the knob and yanking it open.
He froze in the doorway. Beyond lay not a bedroom containing the mysterious Antonia, but an old barn, sunlight streaming through its wooden slats, pitchfork and shovel hanging against the opposite wall. Picard stepped forward onto the dirt floor, scattered with straw, and drew in the scent of farm animals.
In front of him stood Kirk, sans breakfast tray, looking every bit as amazed as Picard felt.
This doesnt look like your bedroom, Picard said dryly.
No, Kirk replied. A slow smile dawned over his face. No, its not. Its better.
Better?
This is my uncles barn in Iowa. Kirk moved to the far end, to a group of stalls containing horses. One of them, already saddled, with a coat the color of gleaming coal, snorted in recognition as the human reached up to stroke its neck. I took this horse out for a ride nine years ago … on a spring day. Inspired, he hurried to the barn door and swung it open, revealing a green, sunny landscape outside. Just like this. If Im right, this is the day I met Antonia.
He turned toward Picard. This nexus of yours is very clever. I can start all over again, do things right from day one.
Kirk hurried back to the horse, swung up into the saddle, and galloped out of the barn. Picard watched the receding figures of horse and rider for only an instantthen took a saddle from the wall and found a mount of his own.
This time he followed on an intelligent, cooperative steed, over rolling green countryside, riding hard to keep within sight of Kirk: across a clear-running stream, through a copse of ancient oaks, out onto a grassy plain. From a distance he watched as Kirk spurred the American saddlebreed toward a wide ravine, never once slowing pace. At the last possible instant, the horse made a beautiful, arcing leap and landed on the other side, its hind hooves barely clearing the edge.
Kirk slowed at once; then came to a complete stop and paused to gaze at the ravine behind him. He frowned, then wheeled his horse around and galloped back for a second try.
Kirk made the jump a second time; yet this time, the older captain reined his animal to an immediate stop and sat, frowning, as Picard rode up beside him.
Kirk looked once again at the ravine, his expression saddened, confusedfor the first time, free of any trace of the euphoria induced by the nexus. Picard felt a stirring of hope, but remained silent as the other man sorted through his feelings.
I must have