Synthesis - James Swallow [152]
Will smiled. “And that’s right. It’s what should happen.
Parents are eclipsed by their children. They go where we can’t venture, with all of the joy and sadness that brings.”
Deanna chuckled. “Who’s the counselor now?”
“I’ve picked up some things along the way.”
The door chimed. “Captain?” said a deep voice over the intercom. “It’s Doctor Ree. Am I early?”
Will grinned, leaning in to steal two quick kisses, one from his wife and one on the cheek of his daughter. “Come in,” he called.
The door hissed open, and the Pahkwa-thanh hovered on the doorstep before entering. “I, uh, brought a bottle of subaa juice,” he explained. “It’s native to my home islands. Replicated, sadly, but still a good approximation.”
Will took the bottle and patted the saurian on the shoulder. “Thanks for coming, Shenti. Have a seat, the sushi’s in the chiller.” He moved to the kitchen alcove.
“Thank you… William.”
Deanna sat down with Tasha, and the child immediately leaned over and patted the doctor on the snout, giving a melodic giggle.
Ree showed a few teeth in a reasonable approximation of a nonthreatening grin. “I also brought the notifications for the memorial service for Tylith and the others,” he said.
“Later,” said Deanna. “We’re off duty.”
Will returned with a tray sporting a dozen tiny dishes, each one a delicate whorl of white rice and blue Andorian seafood. “I hope you’ll—”
The alert siren spoke louder.
Ree cocked his head. “So much for off duty.”
The tray was put aside, and Will was immediately the captain once again. “Bridge, Riker,” he snapped into the intercom. “Report.”
“Sorry to interrupt the dinner, sir,” said Vale. “Intruder alert, Airlock Eight. That’s your deck. Keru’s there with a security detail.”
“I’m on my way.” He shot a look at his wife. “Stay here. Secure the door after I go.” He paused on the threshold. “And try the zetta roll. It’s good.”
Keru checked the phaser’s charge for the second time in as many minutes, his fingers tight around the grip of the hand weapon. He glanced at Dennisar, who had come, as expected, with a bigger gun. The Orion took up a kneeling stance and stared down the barrel of his compression rifle. Crewmen Blay and Krotine were taking up stations along the wall where the inner hatch for Airlock Eight was situated.
“No life signs,” Krotine reported from her tricorder scan.
Keru glanced up as fast footfalls signaled the arrival of the captain, albeit in civilian attire. “Sir?”
“What do we have?” said Riker.
“Metallic mass,” Krotine continued. “We didn’t detect it with all of the debris floating around out there, not until it was too late. It attached to the hull and then used some sort of override to access the exterior hatch.”
“It’s in there now, running the recompression cycle. Security protocols are ineffective.” Keru gestured with his phaser.
“A Sentry drone,” Dennisar said with a grimace. He toggled the dekyon emitter on his weapon to firing mode.
“Doesn’t anyone ever knock first?” Riker muttered.
With a heavy thud of magnetic bolts, the inner hatch released and retracted into the walls. Keru and his team went to the ready.
There was a grinding of pistons, and a spiderlike machine stepped out of the airlock. A thin patina of ice had formed on the machine from the moisture in the Titan’s atmosphere cooling on its space-chilled exterior.
“White-Blue?” said Riker. “You look different.”
“My droneframe has been upgraded. But I could say the same for you, William-Riker. I believe the correct phrase is ‘Nice outfit.’ ”
“It learned that from me,” Keru noted.
The captain gestured for the security team to lower their weapons. “Why are you here?”
“My apologies for this unorthodox method of entry,” said the Sentry. “After your words to the Governance Kernel, I was given much to consider. And on reflection about the brief period I spent onboard this starship, one fact has continued to concern me.”
“And you just thought you