Star Trek - Requiem. Part 15

Or-and there was always an or when dealing with the sanct.i.ty of the timestream-was it possible that his intervention would somehow have the opposite effect? Would he throw history off course, despite his best efforts, in some way he hadn't considered-and thereby eliminate the timeline in which he and the Federation made peace with the Gorn?

There was no way to know for sure. All Picard had to go on was his instincts-and his instincts told him that he had to prevent the matter-antimatter source from going haywire. As ironic as it sounded, he had to save the outpost and its people-so that the Gorn could destroy them a short time later.

The captain took in his surroundings and sighed again. But you can't do anything, he told himself, as long as you're stuck here in the brig. So the first step is to get out of here.

The thought had barely formed in his mind when the doors to the larger room opened and Julia Santos walked in. Immediately, her eyes flicked in Picard's direction-but only for a moment. Then she was giving the guard her full attention.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the man was saying. "He's not supposed to have any visitors."

"I'm not just a visitor," Julia replied. "I'm a doctor. And despite whatever else may have happened, he is still my patient."

The security officer frowned, Casting a glance in Picard's direction, he seemed to momentarily a.s.sess the prisoner's potential for violence. In the end, he nodded.

"All right," he said. "But make it as quick as possible, okay?"

Agreeing that she would do that, Julia approached the energy barrier. This time, when her eyes met the captain's, they did not let go.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

Picard shrugged. "I don't like being incarcerated. Other than that, not badly."

The doctor turned to look back over her shoulder. "I need to go inside," she told the security officer.

The man made a sound of exasperation, but Julia stood firm. Obviously acquainted with her stubbornness, and knowing where any argument would eventually end, the reds.h.i.+rt covered the distance to the brig in four long strides.

Taking out his phaser, he made sure that it was set on stun. Then he touched the pressure-sensitive wall pad that governed the barrier. A moment later, it was gone, allowing the physician to step over the threshold.

As soon as she was inside, however, the security officer reactivated the energy field. When Julia looked at him, he shrugged. But this time, she didn't protest. After all, the man was only doing his job-just as she was.

There was a bench built into the wall in the back of the cell. The captain indicated it with a gesture that smacked of more gentile surroundings.

Normally, the doctor would have been amused by the incongruity. However, her expression didn't change as she accepted his offer and took a seat. Sitting down next to her, Picard watched her eyes as she ran her tricorder over him.

He would have to keep his voice low. He didn't want what he had to say to be overheard by his guard.

"Julia ..." he began.

She shook her head. "No," she corrected. "Dr. Santos. Julia was the one who trusted you, remember? Me, I'm just your doctor." With forced intensity, she studied her tricorder readings.

The captain nodded. "All right. I deserved that. But despite what I've done and said, I need your help."

The doctor chuckled dryly. "Of course you do."

"I mean it," Picard insisted. "I wasn't lying about that matter-antimatter core. It's going to experience a runaway reaction. And when it does, it will take the whole colony with it."

Julia's expression changed ever so slightly, as if she was at least thinking about believing in him again. Then she turned away.

"Look, Mr. Hill, or whatever you're really called. I don't have time for your shenanigans anymore, so let's just drop it."

"They're not shenanigans," he told her. "I can prevent the core from exploding. But to do that, I need your help. I need to get out of here."

When the doctor allowed her eyes to meet his again, they were full of undisguised, red-rimmed hurt. The captain winced at the sight of them.

"I trusted you," she said, her voice flat and accusing. "And I got burned. Now you want me to trust you again? To ... to commit mutiny for you?" She grunted. "You must be out of your head."

Picard cursed inwardly. This was his one chance. He couldn't afford to let it get away-even if it meant risking everything on one roll of the dice.

He licked his lips. "What if I told you I could prove I know what I'm talking about?"

That got her attention. "Prove it?" she echoed warily.

"Yes. What then?"

Julia looked at him askance. "I'm listening. Just for the entertainment value, mind you."

The captain knew what kind of chance he was taking. But he was guided by the eerie knowledge that she wouldn't live to spread the story he was telling her; it was just a question of which disaster would claim her first.

"My name," he told her, "is Jean-Luc Picard. I command a Federation stars.h.i.+p called the Enterprise." He paused, letting what he'd said so far begin to sink in. Then he hit her with the punchline. "However, if you were to look up the captain of that vessel, you would find that his name is James T. Kirk. That is because my Enterprise exists in the twenty-fourth century."

Julia blinked-once, twice. Then an expression of disappointment came over her. "I thought you'd do better than that," she responded. "I mean, really."

Of course, Picard had known this wouldn't be easy. "Think, Julia. I have a bionic heart, engineered to imitate my cell structure. Have you ever heard of any race, Federation member or otherwise, capable of manufacturing such a device?"

The doctor recognized the question as rhetorical. "Go on," she instructed.

"As the commodore pointed out, I have no scar tissue to indicate that the procedure ever took place. In fact, I have no scar tissue at all. And I'm immune to the common cold. Why? Because in my era, medical science has made great strides in cell replication and immunology."

Julia sighed. He had made it difficult for her to remain completely skeptical, but he still had a long way to go.

"Now you know why I didn't want to divulge my ident.i.ty," the captain persisted. "Because I didn't want to upset the flow of sequential time by my presence here-which, I a.s.sure you, is completely accidental. And now you also know how I can be so sure about the defect in your power source. In this time, matter-antimatter technology hasn't come far enough to detect such problems. But in mine, even a cadet knows how to look for them."

The doctor's green eyes narrowed. 'I'll give you credit. It almost sounds convincing. But if you were truly concerned about messing up the flow of sequential time, you wouldn't be telling me all this-would you? You'd be keeping your mouth shut, no matter what."

Picard shrugged. "Not if I knew that this outpost isn't supposed to be destroyed by a matter-antimatter accident. Not if I suspected that my presence here was necessary to the prevention of that accident."

Julia was wavering, but the captain still hadn't won her over. He could see it in the rather stubborn set of her jaw.

"Surely," he said, "you've heard rumors of time travel ... of a planet, perhaps, where something called The Guardian of Forever provides access to all the ages of the universe?"

At the mention of that name, her expression softened. "Yes," she replied, after a moment. "I have heard rumors of people traveling through time. But ..." She paused. "Until now, I thought they were just fantasies."

Picard's heart pounded a little harder. "Then you believe me?"

The doctor swallowed. "Don't put words in my mouth. All I said was that I'd heard rumors."

The captain decided to switch tacks. "Not so long ago," he reminded her, "your physician's instincts told you I was a good man. What do they tell you now, Julia? That I'm an exquisitely apt liar, trying to obtain access to your power source for my own selfish ends? Or that I am who and what I say I am-and that if we don't act soon, you and all your colleagues will meet with catastrophe?"

Julia stared at him-and swore softly. "There's something strange about you, all right. I said that from the beginning. But ... a man from the future? I don't know. I just don't know."

"Because the stakes are too high if you're wrong?" Picard suggested.

She nodded. "Yes. Because the stakes are too high."

The captain laid his hand on her tricorder-and in the process, brushed against the doctor's fingers. Her skin was soft and warm to his touch, reminding him of their embrace the night of the commodore's dinner. But he couldn't let himself be distracted now, no matter how much he would have liked to be.

"You want to be sure about me," he said. "Then program your tricorder to act as a lie detector. I'm certain that you know how-medical students have been doing it since the d.a.m.ned things were invented."

Julia hesitated. "You've got a bionic heart," she told him. "How do I know that this will work?"

Picard smiled. "Because my heart is the only thing that's artificial about me. And, ultimately, because you have to trust something, or we will never get to the bottom of this."

That seemed to satisfy her. Focusing her attention on her tricorder for the moment, she set it to measure his pulse rate and several other physiological indicators. Then she looked up again.

"What is your name?" she asked.

"My name," he told her, "is Jean-Luc Picard."

"And your business here?" The doctor glanced down at the tricorder's tiny, electronic readout.

"I came here accidentally," the captain repeated. "Ultimately, my goal is to return to my own time, if that is possible. But whether it is or not, I would like to prevent your power source from exploding-and wiping out this entire colony."

Julia's brow puckered. When she looked up at him, it was with an entirely new perspective. "It says you're telling the truth," she reported.

"As well it should," Picard remarked. "Now, will you help me?"

The doctor was obviously torn-between her wounded pride and skepticism on the one hand and the tricorder's evidence on the other. And from what the captain could see, it was a standoff.

Suddenly, he heard the approach of the guard, his heels rapping sharply on the hard-plastic floor. He looked as if he'd made about all the concessions he was going to. After all, how long did it take to make a pa.s.s over someone with a tricorder?

His opportunity was slipping away. But what could he do? If he tried anything, the guard would be treating him to the wrong end of a phaser.

"Julia," the captain pressed, "we dare not wait any longer. If I'm to keep this colony from being-"

"Shut up, already," she told him. She glared at him. "Just shut up, will you?" Abruptly, her gaze softened. "And when you see your chance, take it."

Picard almost smiled. Almost. But since that would have given them away, he maintained as dour and downcast an expression as possible. The guard didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong as he stopped in front of the energy barrier.

"I know," said the doctor. "Time's up." She stood, casting one last, remonstrating glance at Picard. "If that bothers you anymore, tell this officer. Don't keep it to yourself that way."

The captain nodded. "Whatever you say," he told her.

The guard drew his weapon as he moved to the switch that would turn off the energy field. His eyes glued to the prisoner, he didn't take any notice whatsoever of Julia. After all, she was one of the most trusted people in the colony. Who in his right mind would suspect her of colluding with an alien spy?

A moment later, the barrier fizzled out of existence. "Come on, Doctor," said the dark-haired man. "Before our friend here gets any funny ideas."

By way of reply, Julia brushed the hand that held the phaser with her tricorder. A blue aura seemed to envelope the guard's hand for a fraction of a second-but that was enough to make him yelp and drop his weapon.

Wasting no time, the captain leapt up and put all his weight behind a blow to the man's jaw. He caught him as solidly as he'd hoped; there was a sound like a branch breaking and the security officer's knees buckled.

Before he could recover, Picard grabbed his phaser. Unfortunately, the man still had some fight left in him, because he tried to swipe it back. Rather than take any chances, the captain fired-and sent his captor sprawling against the wall in back of him.

Only then did Picard turn to his benefactor. "Neat trick," he observed, pointing his phaser at her tricorder.

She advanced and knelt beside the guard, making sure he hadn't been hurt worse than the captain intended. "I picked it up in medical school," she said. "Though I never thought I'd ever need to really use it." A pause. "Looks like George here will be fine, except for a whopping big headache."

With his free hand, he took hold of hers. "Let's go," he urged. "We've got a matter-antimatter core to shut down."

Julia hesitated-but only for the amount of time it took to draw a breath. Then she let the captain pull her after him as he emerged into the bright light outside.

If anything, thought Riker, Admiral Kowalski looked more hollow-cheeked than the last time he'd communicated with the Enterprise. Obviously, the political situation on Gorn hadn't improved any.

"I take it," said Kowalski, "You've had no luck finding Captain Picard?"

The first officer felt the emptiness of the captain's ready room all around him. "No luck," he echoed. "We've investigated seventy-six star systems without turning up the slightest sign of him." He took an almost perverse pleasure in the extent of his frustration. "But that doesn't mean-"

"It means," the admiral interjected, "that you've got a day and a half left. And believe me, my colleagues think I'm crazy to even give you that much, considering the upheavals taking place among the Gorn." He leaned forward. "I know how much you think of Captain Picard, Commander. But your duty is clear. Thirty-six hours from now, I expect you to be entering orbit around the Gorn homeworld. That's understood, isn't it?"

Riker nodded. "It's understood, Admiral. I'll be there."

And he would. The captain had worked hard to establish relations with the Gorn. He wouldn't want to see them jeopardized now-even at the expense of his own life.

"Good," concluded the admiral. "I just wanted to make sure. Kowalski out."

Sighing, the first officer sat back in his chair. One day wouldn't be anywhere near enough unless they got lucky. And the way things were going, he didn't feel very lucky.

d.a.m.n. He couldn't let it end this way. He couldn't.

Suddenly, he pounded Captain Picard's desk, watching its polished surface s.h.i.+ver under the force of his blow. It felt good-but it didn't change anything. They were still leagues from their goal, and Starfleet and circ.u.mstances had hobbled them until they could barely walk.

Then he remembered. There was a chance, if he was willing to seize it. But he couldn't wait any longer. h.e.l.l, it might already be too late.

"Ensign Ro," he said, looking up at the intercom grid.

The reply came almost instantaneously. "Aye, sir?"

"Join me in my ... in the captain's ready room. I think there's something we have to discuss."

Ro didn't bother to acknowledge his order. But a moment later, he heard a beep at the door.

"Come in, Ensign."

The doors had barely slid aside before the Bajoran was past them, approaching him with an eagerness that told him she knew exactly what he wanted. Under the circ.u.mstances, Riker decided, he would get right to the point.

"Not too long ago," he said, "you offered me the services of the Bon Amar. If the offer's still on the table, I'd like to take you up on it."

He searched her face for a hint of the triumph she must have been feeling. He couldn't find any. Ro was a professional, he'd give her that.

"I'll contact them immediately," she answered.