Part 29 (1/2)

Not that he hadn't wanted it... they had both wanted it...

But what had they wanted? Momentary gratification? Or something more... a rekindling of something that they had thought they'd left behind them?

Perhaps they'd been kidding themselves. Here he was someone accustomed to command situations, and here she was someone who was always in touch with feelings. So it was only natural that they would decide that they could control their feelings, dictate their relations.h.i.+p. Turn their emotions on and off like an old-style light switch.

How realistic was that, though? Lying there in the darkness, imagining Deanna at that moment, wrapped in the arms of Dann, laughing or saying things softly...

Did she say the same things to Dann that she had to Riker?

For a moment there he had actually been drifting off, his feelings about Deanna lulling his brain and convincing him that everything would seem more clear in the morning. And then something, some impulse, made him sit bolt upright in bed, moving so swiftly that he had a momentary sense of disorientation.

Someone was there. He didn't know how, he didn't know why... but someone was there, hiding in a comer, lurking in the darkness.

He called out, ”Li-”

But he didn't get the word out.

A hand clamped over his mouth and shoved him back down onto the bed.

Riker struggled fiercely, shoving at the arm that held him down. He reached upward, grabbing at his a.s.sailant's face, feeling skin that was like parchment and a bristling beard.

And then a voice said, ”Lights!”

Riker froze. Because the voice sounded insanely familiar.

The lights came up on command. He blinked against the sudden brightness and the voice amended, ”Half lights.” They dimmed 50 percent, and now Riker could make out the features of the intruder.

The hair and beard were thick and gray. The skin was wrinkled and timeworn. But the eyes burned fiercely with determination, and the face... the face was unmistakable. He was looking up at himself... except he was decades older.

”Shut up!” hissed the cider Riker. ”We haven't much time.”

Riker's eyes were wide with stupefaction. For one moment he thought he might still he sleeping, and he started to struggle again, tried to shout over the hand that was clamped on his mouth.

”Didn't you hear what I said?” snarled the old man. ”Shut up, you idiot! They may be here to try and stop me at any moment! So lie still! Listen to me, and be prepared to do exactly what I tell you. Deanna's life hangs on what you do next.”

CHAPTER 34.

The curator of the Betazed national archives shook hands with Admiral Riker and bowed slightly in acknowledgment. ”Your donation of Lwaxana Troi's effects will be quite a boon to our collection, Admiral.”

Riker smiled indifferently. ”I'm glad I could he of service, sir. And now... if you'll excuse me, I believe that my transport back home is here.”

”Ah, yes,” said the curator. ”I understand the Enterprise herself has come to get you.”

”Just happenstance.” Riker smiled evenly. ”It was the closest s.h.i.+p. It's not as if I'm anyone particularly important.”

”Oh, now, Admiral, let's not sell ourselves short. Some of us still remember your handling of the Sindareen raiders all those years ago. They stayed well clear of Betazed after that.” The curator frowned. ”Although it's a pity... they've become much more aggressive in the last decade or so. My understanding is that they've resumed many of their warlike ways. Truly a shame.”

”Yes,” agreed Riker, at this point anxious to just get out of there. He felt as if he would say just about anything to escape.

At that moment the air hummed a few feet away with a familiar sound, and Riker grinned openly. It was rare that he smiled these days, but when he did, it was genuine.

”Commodore Data,” he said evenly. ”It's a pleasure to see you again. You haven't aged a day.”

Data c.o.c.ked his head slightly. ”Why would I, Admiral?”

Riker chuckled silently. ”You may have gotten the hang of a lot of things since I first met you, Data, but humor still eludes you. Comforting to know some things don't change.”

”I'm sure it is.” Data turned and indicated his second officer. ”You remember my science officer, Lieutenant Blair.”

”Yes, of course,” said Riker, and shook Blair's large, furred hand. ”Well, gentlemen... shall we get going?”

”Whatever you say, Admiral... if you're done here, that is.”

Riker looked at the curator questioningly.

”As far as I'm concerned, Admiral, we're finished. Oh,” the curator added as an afterthought, ”a woman stopped by... Wendy, I believe she said her name was... and said that you should stop by and say good-bye before you leave.”

”We can wait if you wish, Admiral,” offered Data.

But Riker just shook his head. ”No,” he said softly, and the general melancholy that routinely hovered over him these days enveloped him once more. ”No, I've never been particularly good at saying good-bye on this planet.”

Data didn't pretend to understand. He merely tilted his head and said, ”Enterprise. Three to beam up.” And a moment later, with a crackle of blue energy, they were gone.

When Riker first set foot on the s.h.i.+p that bore the name of that vessel he'd once served aboard, he felt a rush of pleasure. But it was quickly borne away by the realization that this wasn't really that Enterprise... that there would never be another one like it. It had been a unique, special time in his life, and... he realized bleakly... probably the high point. Certainly nothing since then had come close to approaching the pure joy and wonder that that particular a.s.signment had given him.

He was more than happy to inspect the s.h.i.+p, examine all the various new and exciting wrinkles that had been added. Ultimately, though, once all that had been done, he was more than content to sit in his cabin, alone and comfortable with the loneliness to which he'd grown so accustomed.

It was in this state that Data found him when he came to inform Riker that they would be arriving shortly at Starbase 86.

”Thank you, Data,” Riker said simply upon being given the news. He went back to staring out the viewport.

”You seem to be preoccupied, Admiral,” observed Data.

”I'm watching the stars.” Riker smiled thinly. ”Did you know, some people believe that whatever happens to us is decided by the stars. That we have no control over our fates. I think Shakespeare even wrote that 'the fault is in the stars'.”

”Actually, Admiral, that is incorrect.”

”You're going to tell me that it's ridiculous to believe that interstellar phenomenon could possibly have any sort of effect on the affairs of men?”

”No, sir. That's so self-evident it's not even worth pointing out. No, I was simply going to tell you that your endeavor to quote Shakespeare was not only imprecise, but in fact wildly wrong.”

”How wildly?”

”If you're quoting the pa.s.sage I believe-namely Julius Caesar, act one, scene two-then you have reversed it. The proper line is, 'Men at some time are masters of their fates: The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, but in ourselves, that we are underlings'.”