The Children of Hamlin - Carmen Carter [86]
“Blame me if you must blame someone. I gave him permission to go.” The leaves of the twig on Krn’s grave were already wilting in the heat. “He’s saying good-bye to his friend.”
“The boy was too long aboard that ship,” pronounced Tomas, although with more resignation than spleen. “Take my word for it, he won’t abide by our creed anymore. Soon he’ll dream of leaving the community.”
“I won’t ask him to stay,” Patrisha replied quietly.
She had lost her own faith many years ago, but not soon enough to forge a life elsewhere. Her place was here on New Oregon, with Krn’s daughter, because there was nowhere else to go.
The last meeting between Wesley and Dnnys was uncomfortable for many reasons.
Dnnys had never experienced a molecular transport before, and though he had always scoffed at Farmer stories of bodies mangled by equipment malfunctions, he was overcome by a last-minute terror when the beaming lock took hold of him. The boy materialized on the transporter platform with a pale face and trembling legs, certain that both Wesley and the console operator could see his cowardice.
For his own part, Wesley felt an unreasoning guilt for the good fortune of living aboard a starship. He had tried to share this advantage, but when he observed the sour expression on his friend’s face, the ensign wondered if the Farmer wouldn’t have been happier knowing less about the life he was missing.
After an awkward silence, Dnnys stepped down from the dais. He carried several books in his arms. “I won’t be needing these anymore,” he said gruffly, and thrust the engineering texts into Wesley’s hands. He scowled to cover the welling of tears in his eyes, then made an effort to explain his actions. “All my life, I’ve been without an uncle. I can’t leave Emily without one, too.”
“I figured you’d decide to stay,” said Wesley, untroubled by the return of his gift. He stepped over to a table by the operating console and exchanged the Farmer’s books for another set which he had prepared. “So I brought along these.”
Dnnys accepted the new books. “What are they?” he asked, though without real interest. There seemed little point in reading anything Wesley could provide; a Farmer’s life would leave him little time for dreaming.
“The technical specs on the terraforming station.” Wesley was pleased to see his friend look down with sudden astonishment at the books he held. “A replacement crew is already on the way to rebuild the control center, but terraform engineers are in short supply, so the station will probably be understaffed.”
“And anyone who can help … ” started Dnnys with the beginnings of a smile.
” … will be very welcome,” finished Wesley with an answering grin.
No more time remained for them to talk. “We’re about to break orbit,” announced the transporter operator. “You’ll have to go now.”
Dnnys stepped back onto the dais, books clutched tightly to his chest. As the whine of the transporter rose in pitch, he thought of one last pressing question. “How long does the finishing stage of terraforming last?”
“A lifetime,” called out Wesley. And his friend was gone.
Ships of the sea sailed out of harbor with the tides, but the Enterprise was free to leave New Oregon at a time of the captain’s choosing. Picard chose to leave when the lights of the ship’s interior were dimmed to the level of a setting sun.
“Engage,” he ordered, leaning back against the cushioned contours of his command chair. Given the lateness of the hour, some captains might have delegated this duty to their first officer, but no departure was routine for Picard, and he was always present when his starship left planetary orbit. He would remain on the bridge for a few more minutes, savoring the promise of adventure which lay hidden in each new beginning.
The captain listened without comment as Counselor Troi engaged in mild banter with Will Riker. The barbs flew back and forth from either side of the command center.
“A conference is not a recreational event,” said Troi. “The gathering serves an important professional