Unification - Jeri Taylor [81]
They entered a cubicle not unlike the turbolifts on the Enterprise and began a dizzying journey down, sideways, and up again. Picard tried to estimate the time that had passed since they left the office. At some point, the real Sela would regain consciousness from the Vulcan pinch, and realize she had once again been the victim of Data’s holographic expertise. She and her guards had lain unconscious behind that false wall, and could waken at any moment. If that happened before they were safely out of the building, they were doomed.
The cubicle finally came to a rest and doors slid open. The group exited to find themselves in a cavernous black corridor that reminded Picard of the caves he had recently visited with members of the unification movement. He had the sense that they were very deeply underground; all sound seemed muffled, and kekogen lights provided the only illumination.
They walked for some minutes through a labyrinth of passages, twisting and turning, until he had lost any sense of direction. He knew the maze had been planned for exactly that purpose; those who descended into these lonely depths were not intended to find their way out.
Picard stumbled slightly and paused briefly, unsure of his footing. “Keep walking,” ordered one of the guards brusquely. Picard turned slightly toward him. “I’m having trouble breathing,” he gasped. He bent over, drawing ragged breaths of air; a wheeze escaped him. He crumpled to the ground.
The guards were not fools. They did not rush to help him. They stood alertly at a distance as Spock and Data bent over Picard. Fillally Spock rose and announced, “He cannot get up.” “Then carry him,” came the terse reply. “I am old. I do not have the physical strength.”
The guard jerked his head toward Data. “Then you do it.”
Data bent to Picard and then, as the captain’s lips began moving, put his ear close to Picard’s mouth. Then he rose.
“The captain is losing consciousness. He greatly fears torture. He is willing to tell you what information he has, but he cannot speak above a whisper.” “It’s a ruse,” cautioned one of the guards.
Data shrugged. “I would not want to face Commander Sela with the news that the prisoner has died without having revealed what he knowsmand all because you were afraid to listen to him.”
The guards exchanged glances. One nodded to the other, and both drew their disruptors.
The first guard got to his knees and leaned in close to Picard. “There is a Federation spy among you,” he whispered, “at the uppermost levels of the Romulan hierarchy.”
Picard saw the guard look up toward his compatriot and nod. Then he leaned down again.
“His name,” began Picard, “his name… his name is…” he began to wheeze again. The guard bent nearer still. “The name of the spy ism”
Had it not been for Data’s speed, the rest could never have happened. Data was able to whirl and advance on the guard holding the disruptor so quickly that he literally had no idea what had happened.
At the same time, Spock pinched the neck of the guard listening to Picard.
A split second later, both guards lay unconscious from the pinch, and Picard and Data held their disruptors. There had been brief consideration of vaporizing the guards, rather than risk their recovering consciousness too soon, but none of the men could bring themselves to do it. Now, they looked back down the twisting maze of corridors through which they had been led. They needed the east-wing exit— but where was it?
“I think this way,” said Picard, pointing to a passageway branching off to his right.
“I would have said this direction,” countered Spock, pointing to the left.
“Forgive me, Captain, Ambassador,” said Data mildly. “But if we are to get out of the Irnilt, you will have to rely on me.”
And he began striding down