The Last Stand - Brad Ferguson [82]
“She hasn’t set off her emergency recall signal, has she, Mr. La Forge?” Picard asked.
“No, sir, she has not.”
“I don’t believe she’s being kidnapped, then,” Picard said. “If she was able to activate the communicator for audio pickup, she could just as easily have actuated the recall signal. No, the counselor simply wanted to let us know that she was going somewhere. Number One, tell me quickly about this Wiggin.”
“We met him at the party,” Riker replied. “He’s a young Krann who claims to be a weapons designer of some sort. I think he may not be what he claims to be.”
“You think he may have been a plant.”
“Yes, sir. I believe he arrived at the celebration just after we did and only pretended he’d been there all along.”
“I see. So you believe your location aboard the flagship has been detected.”
“Yes, sir. I do.”
“If that’s true, then the Krann want you to be there, at least for now, “Picard observed. “They haven’t done a thing to remove you. I wonder why?”
“We do have their agreement to board their ships and take a look around, sir.”
Riker heard Picard chuckle. “Yes, but I hardly expected them to live up to it quite this diligently. Well, we’ll take advantage of Presider Hek’s apparent generosity for as long as possible. Number One, Mr. La Forge will guide you to Counselor Troi’s present position. Follow her and this Wiggin person, but don’t be caught at it. I’ll now leave you in the hands of Mr. La Forge. Picard out.”
“Aye, sir. Geordi?”
“Locked on to you, Will.”
“Good.” Riker opened the service door and, looking around, stepped inside the bistro. “I’m heading for the concourse just outside the restaurant,” he said very quietly. “How far away are they now?”
Troi and Wiggin were heading down the concourse. The crowds swarming through the passageways had not ebbed. If anything, they had grown, despite—or perhaps due to—the combat alert not long before. The counselor considered that some of the Krann might be celebrating their relief.
“Wait’ll you see this!” Wiggin said enthusiastically. “Anybody who has is really impressed—and I helped substantially with the design, of course.”
“So I assume you’re going to show me a weapon of some sort?” Troi asked lightly.
“Maybe, maybe not,” the young Krann said, grinning. “It’s supposed to be a secret. You’ll see.”
“Counselor, this is Picard,” came a voice in Troi’s ear. “We have been listening in and are tracking your movements via your communicator. I assume you are wearing your audio pickup. If you are, tap the communicator once.”
Troi did so unobtrusively.
“Very good. We have you heading for an area that we’ve marked on our maps as one of the main mass transit stations aboard the flagship. Tap once if you understand.”
Troi did so.
“All right,” Picard said. “We see that the inbound portion of the tube system leads directly into the area of the flagship that we have been unable to probe with our sensors. Wiggin may be taking you there, and Mr. La Forge says we will likely lose communication with you when you enter that zone. Commander Riker is trailing you at a distance. He will follow you into the sensorproof zone, and he’ll be there to render assist hould you need it. Good luck to you, Counselor. Picard out.”
The tube car stopped in a station marked BAY FOURTEEN, and Troi and Wiggin pushed their way out onto the platform. The station was choked with passengers.
“Sorry, Pralla,” Wiggin said. “We’ve hit the end-of-watch commuter hour. It’s the worst time to be here. Just push your way through. Go that way.” He pointed.
Troi did so. “Today was supposed to be a holiday,” Troi complained.
“Oh, it’s no holiday here, and especially not now, with all that’s going on.” Wiggin moved through the crowd toward Troi and took her hand again. “I’ll show you what I mean,” he said, pulling her along. “Come on.”
There were two exits from Bay Fourteen—a large, open