What's Past_ The Future Begins (Book 2) - Michael Schuster [37]
The owners of the El Dorado Hotel and Vacation Resort were not the only ones to advance an offer. Others from all over the planet did the same, some even going so far as to say that he could have his own private island if he agreed to work for them.
He politely declined every offer.
The truth was, he did not feel he needed to remain on Risa a single day longer. Ever since Viola’s sabotage had been repaired, he’d felt restless, as if something was calling to him, telling him to move on.
One evening, a twelvenight after Quincy’s funeral, he sat in the wicker chair on his small veranda, holding a glass of Scotch in his right hand. He watched the fireworks on the horizon, a colorful display of happiness that marked the end of the Lohlunat Festival over in Suraya Bay. Melancholy was washing over him like waves at high tide, and it was not a pleasant feeling.
When he lifted the glass to his lips, he was surprised to discover that it was empty. He didn’t remember finishing his drink, nor did he remember drinking it, for that matter. He supposed he should be worried about that, but at the moment he just didn’t give a damn.
Another plume of fireworks, then nothing. After a while, the muffled sound of the explosion reached Hanotis Harbor, but the sky was dark once again, only illuminated by the constellations of the stars and the two moons.
In a weird, morbid way, the fireworks reminded him of exploding ships in planets’ atmospheres, and this, in turn, reminded him of the story that Ross had told him. A person’s mind was a strange thing. So utterly abstract, yet there was no denying its existence. And the worst thing was, it operated in mysterious ways. Nobody could tell what dreadful memory of the past it dredged up next.
Ross and his offer, though, were not all that unexpected. Scotty had thought about them on an on-and-off basis during the last two weeks, and he grudgingly admitted to himself that it was indeed rather tempting. Yet he didn’t know if he shouldn’t just make a clean break now, leave Starfleet forever and buy himself a house on Caldos Colony, far away from SFHQ.
Absentmindedly, he took another sip of his Scotch only to notice again that the glass was empty. Something was wrong with him—had to be—because he normally never failed to consciously enjoy a drink.
Oh, sod it.
He abruptly rose from his wicker chair and entered his bungalow. Once inside, he went into his office and activated the com terminal there.
“Computer, do me a favor, will you?”
“Please state your request.”
“Get me Admiral Ross’s office. And better make it quick, before I change my mind.”
“Working.”
“You’re a good lad.”
Epilogue
Stardate 53509.7
May 2376, Old Earth Time
“I knew the planet Kropasar rang a bell,” Geordi La Forge said, setting down his glass. He was on his third drink—yet still, the taste of Scotty’s Scotch lingered. “I remember some of the da Vinci crew talking about the S.C.E.’s relief efforts there.”
“Aye, laddie,” Scotty said. “We’re only just beginnin’, an—”
He was cut off by a chirp from his comm badge. “I hate these bloody things,” he grumbled. “No damn off-switch.” Despite his complaints, he tapped it. “Go ahead.”
“Sir, this is Deg,” came the voice of his aide.
“What is it, lad? I thought I told you I was out.”
“There’s a bit of a crisis in lab seventeen that…needs your touch.”
Scotty shook his head. “Fine, beam both of us over.”
“Aye, sir.” Scotty stood up, and Geordi followed suit just before both of them were swallowed by the blue sparkles of the transporter beam.
When they rematerialized, they were in what seemed to be the cockpit of a Starfleet runabout. It resembled the Danube-class La Forge was used to, but seemed more advanced. Alarms were blaring, and red lights were flashing.
There were two engineers already in the cockpit, though La Forge didn’t recognize them. “What have you done, lads?” Scotty shouted. Both engineers were furiously tapping buttons on the runabout’s control panels.
One of the engineers, a human man, looked