To Storm Heaven - Esther Friesner [104]
Worf at the bar. The Klingon was engaged in a losing tug-of-war with the hamster, which had decided it wanted to add a lock of Worl% hair to the booty already swelling its cheek pouches. “Wolff. Over here!” “Yes, Geordi?” Worf loomed over the couple.
“Would you escort Ma’adrys to the transporter room? If it’s not too much trouble.” “I know what trouble is,” Worf remarked cryptically, still tugging at the determined hamster. To Ma’adrys he said, “If you would come with me.” Ma’adrys stood. “Goodbye, Geordi. I will see you again.” This time the tears fell freely.
“Goodbye, Ma’adrys,” Geordi said. He did not rise, or make any move to hold her one last time.
Instead he bent his head and remained where he was until the last echo of her footsteps vanished from the room. Only then did he get up and go to the bar.
Guinan put a drink in front of him. “I didn’t order this.” “And you wouldn’t if you knew what was in it,” she retorted. “Drink it anyway.” Geordi shrugged, drained the glass at a gulp, and shuddered. “Well, you sure told me the truth about that.” “Truth’s the specialty of the house,” Guinan said.
“Not that there’s much call for it, but still…” She picked up the dish of peanuts that batlh-gobbogh-yIH had pawed over and dumped it. “You know she’s not coming back, don’t you.” It wasn’t meant to be a question.
“That’s not what she said,” Geordi replied automatically. There wasn’t a lot of faith behind his words, but he had to say them anyway.
“She’s going to be traveling with him. That oberyin, Bilik, the one she used to have some kind of understanding with. First on board the Marcus, then on Orakisa, Skerris IV, wherever her new duties as an envoy take her, he’ll be there too. A face she knows, a voice from home, someone who shares the same memories, someone familiar to turn to in a strange place.
“She said she’d come back,” Geordi repeated.
“Yes,” Guinan agreed. “That’s what she said.” Geordi sighed. “She won’t, will she?” Guinan was silent for a moment, then she snapped her fingers against the side of Geordi’s empty glass so that it rang with a single, pure, musical note.
“Another? On the house.” “I could’ve made her stay,” Geordi said, ignoring the invitation. “I had the chance. I could’ve told her she was right about that whole hari’imash thing, that she didn’t need to honor an outworn tradition. she shouldn’t even give it lip service. Why stop there? ú I could’ve told her to let someone else be the first Ashkaarian representative to Orakisa, someone older, someone with more experience, an oberyinwBilik oberyin. Why not? That would’ve gotten him out of the way permanently. I could’ve said somethingw anything—to keep her here with me. She would’ve listened. She loves me. Why didn’t I say it?” Guinan refilled Geordi’s glass unasked and pushed it toward him. “Because you love her,” she said quietly. “And because you knew that Ashkaar needs her.” Geordi’s fingers linked around the glass, but he made no move to raise it. “I need her, too,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I need her, and I let her go. Why, Guinan? Why?” “Sometimes a man doesn’t understand how much love is in him, Geordi, until he lets it go,” Guinan said. “I can’t say if that’s any consolation for you, though. Maybe you should think of it like this: I’ve known a whole lot of people in my life who’ve given up the world for love, but you, Geordi La Forge— you’re the first I’ve met who’s ever found the greatness of heart to give up love for the sake of a world.”
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue