The Children of Hamlin - Carmen Carter [31]
“I understand, Farmer Patrisha.” Riker stood to take his leave. “The Enterprise will get you, and your livestock, safe to New Oregon.” But he was relieved that she didn’t ask him when.
“What time of year do you want?” asked Wesley.
The computer blinked a steady query remark and patiently waited for new input.
Dnnys instantly whooped out, “Spring!” The Grzydc year was very long, and he had experienced that glorious growing season only four times in his life. He wasn’t sure what a Terran spring was like, but he was sure it would be better than what Grzydc had offered, as was almost everything Dnnys had encountered since leaving that planet.
“And I’ll put in a few fancy details,” continued Wesley as he entered a series of numbers into the holodeck program. “Commander Riker says that if you can take the time to make a project good, then you might as well work hard enough to make it great.”
“That sounds just like Dolora,” sighed Dnnys. “But somehow I don’t mind it so much coming from Mr. Riker. I like him.”
“So do I.” Wesley’s fingers stopped their tap-dance on the keyboard. “Sometimes I wonder if … ” But he didn’t finish.
“Go on,” urged Dnnys.
“Well, it’s just that I was kind of young when my father died. I try to remember what he was like, but it’s hard.” It was equally hard to admit that to his mother. She would probably understand, but the knowledge that Wesley’s memories of his father were fading would make her sad. “And so sometimes I wonder if he was anything like Mr. Riker.”
“Not having a father must be like my not having an uncle,” said the Farmer boy. “Except you miss a real person, whereas I just think about a make-believe one.” He had never revealed that fantasy to anyone, but his friend would understand the desire that prompted it.
The simulation program was forgotten for the moment. “So it bothers you, too?”
“Not that often, really,” said Dnnys, shrugging. Sometimes he didn’t think about an uncle for weeks on end. Other times the sense of loss drove him to seek out Tomas, whom he didn’t like much at all, but who was made of flesh and blood rather than air. “And I get along pretty well with my mother. Not like my sister Krn. They were always fighting. I think that’s one of the reasons Krn volunteered to go to New Oregon ahead of the group.”
Wesley tried to conjure up the image of a red-haired sister yelling angrily at his own mother, but the very idea set him laughing. “Don’t they like each other?”
“Of course they do. Or at least they love each other.” He could see that more easily than the two women. “Tomas says they’re two of a kind.”
A deep male voice echoed this last phrase. “Two of a kind?” Riker had entered the room just as Dnnys finished speaking. “Are you building a farm or playing cards?”
The boys broke up laughing, then eagerly waved the first officer over to the computer to review their work. Thoughts of fathers and uncles gave way to the demands of the holodeck project.
Picard usually stayed on the command level of the bridge, but as the search for the Choraii dragged on he noted the unconscious frown Tasha Yar directed at her console. When the frown deepened, but she remained silent, the captain took a stroll onto the aft deck. His security chief was quick to speak her mind, too quick many times, but her dogged attempts to discipline her own temperament could go too far. Yar had good instincts which must not be lost beneath the weight of caution.
“Have you found something, Lieutenant?” he asked with assumed carelessness.
His question caught her off guard. “Yes, sir,” she said, then amended that to, “I mean, maybe.”
Picard looked down at the search grid. It appeared normal. “A hunch?”
She squirmed uncomfortably at the implied imprecision. “It’s probably only edge distortion, Captain.” With a pointing finger she drew his eyes to a tiny ripple on the outer perimeter of the scan field. “This coordinate isn’t on Geordi’s current trajectory.”
“Mr. Data, what do you make of the lieutenant’s reading?”
Data’s interpretation of the