The Devil's Heart - Carmen Carter [115]
He watched instead.
He watched as Guinan pulled a phaser out from behind the counter. She was hit before she could even pull the trigger. Her body went up in flames.
The Borg took another step and five more people crumpled to the floor. A few writhed and groaned, the others lay still.
He watched as Beverly Crusher brushed past him, rushing to the aid of one of the dying crewmen. A sweep of a Borg arm sent her flying through the air. Her body landed at Picard’s feet, her back oddly twisted and her face slack and wooden.
One last step. A Borg was standing right in front of him.
Picard watched as it raised an arm and extruded a whirring metal rotor from the tip.
The twirling blades shredded the cloth of his uniform, the skin beneath, and then bored a hole straight through to his heart …
Picard woke with a burning sensation deep in his chest; there were other pains, needle-sharp and throbbing, embedded in his muscles and bones. Two years after their removal, his body still remembered exactly where the Borg implants had been placed. He clutched the front of his uniform and nearly retched at the feel of the damp, sticky cloth.
It’s only sweat.
He took a deep, shuddering breath. Not so bad. After all, this nightmare hadn’t wrenched tears and screams from him. He was beyond the need to drag Deanna Troi out of her bed to hear him babble about terror and cowardice and loss of control. This was just a predictable reaction to the presence of a captured Borg on board the Enterprise last month; Picard’s brief impersonation of Locutus had triggered uncomfortable memories …
… or the dream was a warning.
No, dammit, this has nothing to do with the Heart.
His fingers curled, cold and stiff, as if they yearned to wrap themselves around the stone’s fire. His chest was still aching. Had he experienced a routine nightmare or another vision? If the Heart could show him the past, could it also show him the future?
“Picard to bridge,” he called out as he swung his legs over the edge of the couch.
“Data here, Captain.”
He rose and moved across the room to his bookshelves. “Lieutenant, increase speed to warp six and initiate evasive maneuvers.”
“Sir?”
“You heard me. Maintain our previous destination coordinates, just get us there a different way than originally planned.”
“Yes, sir.”
The captain reached up to the shelf and closed his hands around the Heart. Its warmth flooded through him, washing away the tension in his muscles.
The pain in his chest began to fade.
CHAPTER 31
Warden Chandat was accustomed to spending long hours sitting in place while maintaining an air of dignity and supreme authority over tedious proceedings. He had developed this skill presiding over countless Faculty meetings, but he was somewhat disillusioned to discover that the demands on a starship commander were not so very different from his own administrative duties. The bridge chair was more comfortable than the one in the council chamber, Chandat conceded, but the view was less interesting.
Over the last two days, the novelty of staring forward at nothing but stars on a flat screen had worn off.
“Estimated time of arrival is one hour and five minutes,” announced Dean Shagret from the helm. He, unlike the warden, could constantly entertain himself by scanning the console readouts and playing with the controls.
“Maintain course and speed.” The phrase felt less foreign on Chandat’s tongue after several repetitions. Without such squelching directives, the dean had an annoying tendency to practice new flight maneuvers that sent the ship careening in unexpected directions.
“Initiating long-range sensor scans,” announced Thorina. This would be her third scan within the last hour, but whenever Shagret issued one of his status reports, she was spurred to activate her console again.
Their rivalry had started soon after the Sullivan’s departure from Dynasia when the two deans began squabbling over who among the Faculty had sufficient seniority to sit in the command area. Recognizing the importance