The Devil's Heart - Carmen Carter [124]
Catching a glimpse of the Heart’s reflection in the window, Picard’s thoughts rocketed back to the events of the last hour. On the bridge, when the time came to actually let go of the stone, he had tried to fend off Data. Only the android’s superior strength had ensured that the staged event was resolved according to plan.
“Data, you’d better leave—” “Bridge to Captain Picard,” called out Riker. “Sensors have detected an ion disturbance off the port bow.”
Somewhere beyond the comet, Picard spotted a pinprick of gleaming light. It was surrounded by a shimmering aura of radiant energy.
“Indications are that a wormhole is forming out there.”
“A wormhole?” whispered Picard to himself.
A split second later, the pinprick expanded into a glowing sphere, then exploded outward. He found himself staring into the gaping maw of a tunnel that had bored its way through light-years of space.
“Data, that’s it!” Picard marveled at the ingenuity of those who had built the Guardian of Forever. “The comet is merely a herald for the wormhole’s appearance. If the Heart passes through that cosmic gate, it will be sown in some far distant galaxy.”
“That is an interesting hypothesis, Captain.”
“No, Data, this is more than just a theory; it is the fulfillment of a dream.” Tapping his comm insignia, the captain said, “Picard to transporter chief. Mr. O’Brien, I have one last miracle for you to perform.”
Moments later, Picard listened to the high whine of the transporter beam at his back. Without looking, he knew, he could feel in his very bones, that Data’s hands were now empty.
Pressing his palms flat against the window’s cold surface, the captain searched in vain for some glimpse of the Heart’s reappearance. The stone was too small and too dark for him to trace its passage through the vast tunnel.
As the comet passed perihelion and began its long fall toward night, the ring of the wormhole rippled and quavered, then collapsed. This fleeting channel into another galaxy was gone, and it would not return for another five thousand years.
With the shuddering breath of a man waking from a long sleep, Picard pulled away from the window.
“Our part in this story has ended now, Data.”
CHAPTER 34
“We are being hailed by the unDiWahn,” said Worf.
Picard nodded and turned toward the main viewscreen.
With one word, Kierad@an could order his forces to advance and destroy the Enterprise in a storm of fire. Picard had accepted his own death as the price for the Heart’s escape, but the loss of his ship and crew filled him with bitter regret.
The master appeared. His face bore a serene smile.
“Good-bye, Gem-Bearer,” said Kierad@an.
“Our guardianship is over, so it is time for us to leave this place.”
Before the captain could reply, the leader of the Faithful had faded off the bridge viewscreen, displaced by an image of deep space.
“Do you think he means it?” asked Riker.
“Are they really leaving?”
The captain nodded. Somehow the unDiWahn had sensed the stone’s passage through the wormhole.
He would have expected knowledge of its loss to trigger a violent retaliation against the Enterprise, yet Kierad@an had addressed him with respect.
Gem-Bearer. It seemed a hollow title to Picard now that the Heart was gone.
A patch of color flashed across the screen, then another. One by one, the unDiWahn ships were breaking away from their spherical formation to gather around their flagship. When the last vessel had reached the tail end of the swarm, they all took flight. Soon distance worked its magic, and the deadly fleet was transformed into a cloud of butterflies fluttering away on a summer breeze.
In their wake, however, the Faithful had left behind a lumbering stepchild.
“We are being hailed by the USS Sullivan,” announced Worf.
“On screen, Lieutenant.”
The view shifted once again, this time to the bridge of a starship. Picard winced when he took a close look at the man sitting in the captain’s chair. He had a greenish-purple bruise on his forehead and a jagged scratch down one cheek. “You look